#i’m emailing them like ‘i can’t answer the phone; just answer my emails if you want to talk. you’re clearly reading them or you wouldn’t be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bloatedandalone04 · 6 months

Text

I Promised You I’d Never Give Up - Part 4

➪the one where bradley comes home and the two of you finally celebrate your engagement.

Warnings: 18+, age gap, smut, fluff, swearing, unprotected sex, pain kink, oral (f receiving), pda, hair pulling, mentions of a sex tape, fingering, multiple orgasms, soft dom bradley, daddy kink...?, more than half of this is just smut lolz....the end...?

Word Count: 7.7k | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

“Yes…feels so good, Bradley,”

Bradley groaned as he watched the video you and he made the night before his two month deployment. He was painfully hard, and while his hand helped relieve it a bit, nothing compares to you.

“Bradley,” your voice cried through the phone’s speakers. “Touch me, please.”

“Fuck,” he grunted, stroking himself a bit faster and squeezing his eyes shut when the phone landed on the bed and kept recording the sounds of your sweet moans. He was left to imagine your beautiful face and your sinful body in his mind, the sounds you made when you came spurring his own release. “Baby.”

He wished you were there with him so badly. As he painted his hand white with his release, he glanced down at his phone and watched as you ran your finger through the mess he made on you before licking it clean and smiling.

Then the video ended and he was left feeling only half satisfied.

He felt grateful that he had the video on his phone, and a bit bad that you were left with nothing. He smirked to himself as he began cleaning up the evidence of what he did, the email you sent him nearly two months ago flashing in his mind.

I should’ve made you send that video to me before you left. I want you so badly, I can’t even function properly.

He knew you were over-exaggerating a bit, but it was still kinda funny to imagine you not being able to get yourself off when he wasn’t there to do it for you. It also turned him on, thus resulting in him watching the video you made together for the hundredth time since he started this deployment.

He could only imagine you laying on your shared bed, your fingers doing nothing at all to soothe the ache in your core. Then he imagines your fingers in general, and how he put a ring on one of them before he left.

“Bradshaw,” Jake called through the locked door. “You decent? We’re going home tomorrow, I need to pack.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bradley muttered as he stuffed his phone into his packed bag before unlocking and opening the door. “You really think I’m not aware of the fact that we’re going home in less than twenty hours?”

Jake rolled his eyes as he entered the small room and sat down on his bed. “No, I didn’t think that,” he answered as he pulled his bag out from under the bed frame. “You’ve been all packed up and ready to go for days now. You’re usually the one reminding me.”

“Can you blame me?” Bradley grinned as he sat down on his bed. “You know you miss her just as much as I do.”

Jake nodded and began messily throwing his clothes into the bag. “Just not in the same way,”

Bradley huffed out a laugh and moved to lay down. “Yeah, and you’re lucky that’s the case,” he said and looked over at the blond. “You ever like her as more than a friend, Seresin?”

Jake stopped packing and gave him a weary look, making Bradley’s small smile disappear as he put on a stern look.

“You can tell me,” he pressed. “I won’t get mad.”

“Yeah, right,” Jake snorted and set his bag aside. “Like hell you won’t. You’re so obsessed with Y/n, you’d get mad if Bob was looking at her in a certain way.”

“Nah,” the brunet disagreed as he tucked his hands behind his head. “I’d never get mad at Bob.”

“Just at me,” Jake muttered before sitting up straight. “No. I’ve never liked her as more than a friend. She’s like my sister, and you should know that by now, Rooster.”

Bradley hummed, closing his eyes as he refrained from counting down the minutes until he was back with you. “Just making sure we’re still on the same page here, Hangman,”

“We are,” Jake confirmed, zipping up his poorly packed bag and setting it down on the floor. “When we get back, are you going to let me say hi to her before you drag her back home and do whatever it is that you two do together?”

“No,”

When Bradley added a headshake in, Jake huffed and moved to lay down as well. “Why am I not surprised,”

I can see the dock. Please tell me you’re there.

Bradley hastily typed out the message before sending it to you, looking up as if that would help him figure out where you were in the crowd. The dock couldn’t get closer any slower if it tried, he thought as he looked back down at his phone.

Pretty girl: I’m here, Bradley. Of course I’m here. I missed you so much.

His heart skipped a beat or two as he dropped his bag onto the ground of the carrier deck and replied to you.

I missed you, too. Almost there, baby. I hope you’re ready.

Your instant response had him smirking.

Pretty girl: Been ready for the last two months. Been wet, too. Still am.

He picked his bag back up when the carrier finally reached the dock, and he had to refrain from using his size to his advantage like he didn’t necessarily enjoy doing. Bradley had long since lost sight of Jake as he finally made it off the carrier. He fumbled around with his phone when he stepped onto the dock, bringing it up to his ear after clicking on your contact. “Baby, where are you?” He asked as soon as you answered.

“Made it easy for you,” you answer and he could’ve moaned at how sweet your voice sounded. Sure, he heard your voice in the video, but hearing you in real life, even through a phone call, had his mind going into a frenzy. It was fucking torture that he wasn’t allowed to call you at all this time around. “At the very back, close to the road.”

He actually groaned this time as he moved through the crowd, pressing his phone tightly against his ear. “I’m coming, pretty girl,”

He could practically hear your smirk. “Not yet,” you say. “But you will be soon.”

Before Bradley could moan again, he felt someone grip his shoulder. He turned for a brief second, the sight behind him making him roll his eyes before turning back around and heading towards the far end of the dock. “Jake’s with me, too,”

“Jake! I missed him!” You say excitedly and Bradley once again rolls his eyes. Jake was such a fucking mood killer, it was unfair. This wasn’t the first time the blond had interrupted his time with you. He had nearly walked in on Bradley jerking off more than a few times during the last couple of months, and now he was interrupting his foreplay with you.

“You missed me more,” he said smoothly as Jake kept a firm hold on his shoulder, as if he was a mother guiding her child through a busy store.

“Jesus, Bradshaw, slow down,” Jake called out over the chaos of people around them. “I need a ride.”

Bradley stopped dead in his tracks, making Jake bump into him. “Like fuck you do,” he said, still holding the phone to his ear.

“Come on, man, I said I might need you to drop me off once we got back,” Jake pointed out and Bradley was about to disagree with that until he suddenly remembered the conversation the two of them had a few nights ago. It was right after Jake had nearly walked in on Bradley watching the video, and his head was still swarming with the image of you, he couldn’t be blamed for tuning the other guy out.

“Fuck, you’re right,” he muttered before continuing to walk, ignoring the smirk Jake gave him as he followed closely behind. “We need to drop Jake off, baby. Then we’re going home.”

“God, I can’t wait for you to take me home,” you all but moaned into the phone, and of course the sound went right to Bradley’s dick.

He grunted, glancing back at his…friend? Is that what the two aviators were now? “I’m almost there,”

“I can’t wait,” you say back. “I’m literally shaking.”

Bradley grinned as he finally made it through the swarm of people, and then he was scanning the area for both you and the Bronco. He barely acknowledged Jake as his eyes met yours, and he hung up the phone and was making his way over to you within four strides.

You met him a little less than halfway and jumped into his awaiting arms after he dropped his bag. “Bradley,” you say, relief evident in your voice as you wrapped your legs around his waist. “I missed you.”

His lips were on yours shortly after that, and his hands moved to hold your dress down so you didn’t accidentally flash the many people around. Your teeth nipped his lips as you pressed kiss after kiss to them, your hands sliding up and tangling in his slightly longer hair.

He was planning on going and getting it cut when he got back to San Diego, but might hold off on that as your relentless tugging felt even better than before. “Baby,” he mumbled when he pulled away and wrapped his arms around you tightly. “I missed you so fucking much. My girl. My fiancée.” He grabs your hand in his and kisses your finger that held your pretty ring, and it was nearly blinding as it reflected off the sun.

Now that he knew what it was like, he was certain that nothing felt better than having someone to come back to after his deployments, and having that someone be you was making him feel slightly feral.

You grin as he kisses you again, your lips meshing together a bit awkwardly at first before you start to kiss him back. “Bradley,” you sigh against his mouth, pulling away just slightly. “I need…Jake!”

“I need- what?” Bradley barely managed to ask before he felt a light slap on his back.

“Hey, sweetheart,” came Jake’s voice from behind him. “Did you miss me, too?”

You smile at him and move to get down. Bradley helps you steady yourself before you throw yourself at Jake. “Of course I missed you,”

“It’s good to see you,” he says as he returns the hug. The second you stepped away, Bradley was pulling you against his side and pressing kiss after kiss to the top of your head. “And I know, I know. I’m ruining your little reunion, so the quicker we leave, the quicker you can drop me off and the quicker you two can get home.”

“You’re right again, Seresin,” Bradley said as he picked his bag up and tugged you over to the passenger side door of the Bronco. He opens it and kisses you again once you are seated, moving to stand in between your thighs as you pull him closer. His hands grip your waist while yours tangle in his hair, and he knew if you kept this up, he would be sporting a hard on in no time. He groaned as he pulled away. “We gotta go.” He stated, kissing you one last time before closing the door and opening the back one.

Jake pushes past him and hops in the Bronco, grinning at Bradley as he says, “And they say chivalry is dead,”

You turn and look back at him as Bradley throws his bag at Jake before closing the door. “Have you two finally gotten past whatever it was that was between you? Dare I ask, are you two friends?”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Bradley answers as he gets in on the drivers side.

“We’re working on it,” Jake says and settles back against the seat.

You raise a brow as Bradley takes your hand in his and pulls out of the parking spot, driving a bit over the speed limit in order to get rid of Jake as fast as he could. “I’m really glad you two are finally getting along,” you say as you near Jake’s street. “My best friend and boyfriend are actually becoming friends. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“I’m sorry, your what?” Bradley asks, looking over at you with a smirk.

You match it as you lean over and grip his thigh. “Sorry,” you say. “I meant my best friend and my fiancé.”

“Better,” he murmured and refrained from rolling his eyes at the loud way Jake cleared his throat.

“You guys are too much,” he says and takes off his seatbelt. “Hold off on jumping each other for thirty more seconds, okay? I’ll be gone soon enough.”

You laugh and pull away, much to Bradley’s dismay as he reaches Jake’s house. “There you go, now get out,” he says and you slap his arm.

“Bradley,” you scold as Jake opens the back door and gets out.

“It’s fine. We spent the last two months together,” he says and smiles at you. “I’m sick of the guy, too.”

Bradley glared at him as Jake winks at you before walking into his house. “He’s gone,” you state the obvious and grip his thigh again. “Now don’t make me beg. Take me home.”

He groaned, pulling out of Jake’s driveway then taking your hand again. “But you know I love it when you beg,” he smirked as his thumb spun the ring around your finger. “My fiancée is so needy for me.”

You bring your joined hands up to your mouth, where you gently begin sucking on his index finger. “You have no idea,” you mumble and Bradley was barely able to concentrate on driving as he felt your tongue swirl around the tip of his finger. “I’ve only made myself come twice since you’ve been gone.”

“What?” He asked in shock, looking over at you when he stopped at a red light. His thumb pulled at your bottom lip, his brows furrowing when you let out a needy whine. “You’ve gotten yourself off twice in two months? That’s it?”

You whine again as your face heats up. “They both lasted less than a second each. I can’t make myself feel as good as you do,” you defended yourself. “How many times did you get off?”

“Like, nearly every night,” he grunted, driving again once the light turned green. “Fuck, baby, now I feel bad.”

You laughed, bringing his hand down so it was gripping your thigh. “Don’t,” you wave off. “It was quite eye opening to realize that you were right when you said I wouldn’t be able to forget you were gone once I tried to make myself come without you here to do it for me.”

His smirk grew as his hand slid higher up your thigh. “I’m really glad I was right about that,” he briefly looked over at you, his gaze softening as he noticed the way your face was flushed and your eyes were wide with lust. “You need me, huh?” His quiet question lacked any sort of mockery, and he sounded so genuine.

It had you squeezing your thighs together. “Bradley,”

“I need you, too,” he continued as he turned onto yours and his street. “I need to feel you, right here.” His hand moved under your dress and stroked your lace covered core.

“Oh, God,” you moan and grip his wrist as he begins to softly rub your clit.

Bradley pulled into the driveway and pulled the keys out not even a second later. “Come here, baby,” he rasped, helping you over the center console and letting you settle against his lap. “Come ride my thigh.”

You brace yourself on his lap and place your hands on his shoulders, your fingers digging into his uniform shirt. His hands grab your waist and pull your body right up against his before gently guiding you forward.

The soft, relieved sigh that leaves your mouth had him leaning in and connecting his mouth to yours. “Missed that sound,” he mumbled, rocking your hips against his thigh. “That video doesn’t do you any justice, pretty girl.”

You whine, tangling your hands in his hair. “I wanna see it,” you whisper, moving your body with the help of his hands. “Did you watch it a lot?”

He hummed, nodding before pushing you back a bit and kissing along the tops of your breasts. “I couldn’t stop watching it,” he confessed. You moan and lean back against the steering wheel, making sure, even in your lust filled haze, to not put too much pressure on the middle of it. “You looked so hot, baby, like you do right now.”

You whimper, blindly reaching for his biceps as his hands slide up your back. “Bradley,” you moan, helplessly clenching around nothing as you grind your core against his khaki covered thigh.

“I know, baby,” he cooed, kissing your neck before gently sucking a mark there. You moan a bit louder, reaching one hand down and gripping him through his pants. He groaned against your skin, sliding his hands to rest on the small of your back, where he tugged you forward with a bit more force than last time.

“Feels so good,” you whimper, leaning in and kissing him roughly.

Bradley didn’t really plan on getting you off in the Bronco and in your driveway, where literally any one of your neighbors could walk out of their houses and see you (which is why he didn’t pull your dress down and ravish your tits like he really wanted to - the neighbors did not need to see you in that way). But then you told him you hadn’t been able to make yourself feel good enough to the point of coming without him there.

At first he felt bad, but now he just felt smug and a bit full of himself. He had ruined you for any other guy - not that any other guy would even get a chance with you now - and even ruined you for yourself.

He had made you so needy for him, and that fact had made him painfully hard.

With that being said, he had a lot of making up to do.

He grunted quietly at your words, pulling away from your neck so he could take over the uneven movement of your hips. “Bradley,” you warn in a breathy voice.

“You gonna come?” He rasped, bending his knee a bit so his thigh tightened and gave you a more firm surface.

It was almost comical how quickly he was able to get you off without even actual penetration, and you were a bit embarrassed at the many hours you spent trying to do it to yourself when he was away. Nothing felt better than him, and that was beyond clear at this point.

You just whimper in response and cling onto him with shaky hands. “It’s okay,” he says quietly, kissing your jaw as your movements become a bit more frantic. “Come, sweet girl, you deserve it.”

His words go right through you and you cry out a bit, pressing your lips to his in an attempt to silence your sounds. “Fuck,” you whisper against his mouth as you stop grinding against him. You pull away with a fucked out expression on your face, and Bradley is sure he’s never seen a hotter sight. “Hi.”

He grins and kisses you quickly, smoothing out the fabric of your dress. “Hey,”

You smile back and glance down at the damp spot on his pants, a teasing look in your eyes. “I missed you,”

Bradley reached for the door handle and kept his free hand on your lower back as he got out. “I missed you,” he said back as he carried you up to the front door. He gives you his keys as he sets you down, his hands gripping your waist when you turn and unlock the door. “God, you look so pretty.”

You give him a smirk from over your shoulder as you enter the house, and he follows close behind and kicks the door shut behind him. “Guess what?” You ask as you turn around and drape your arms around his neck.

He hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as he pulled you against him. “What?”

“In a few days it’ll be one year since we met,”

Your words didn’t sound true to him, as it felt like he had known you for a lot longer than a year by this point, but when he gave it some thought, he realized you were right.

He was going on half a year of being with you, unofficially, when he fucked up and broke things off, then he spent a month and a half on his own, then another three after that with you as his official girlfriend, and now it’s been another two months.

“You’re right,” he mumbled, holding you even closer to him. “Almost one whole year since the second best night of my life.”

You squint as you play with his pins. “What’s the first?”

“The night I got you back,” he answered, kissing the corner of your mouth. “The same night I told you I love you.”

You give him a dumb grin as you tug at the hair on the back of his neck. “What a perfect night that was,” you agree and he shakes his head as he picks you up effortlessly and carries you down the hall towards your bedroom.

“It was perfect because you decided to forgive me for some reason,” he says as he lays you down on the bed. “Still haven’t quite figured out why you did that, but I’ll never complain.”

You shake your head as he unbuttons his shirt and lets it drop to the floor. “I’d forgive you a hundred times again if it meant it ended with us being together,”

Bradley kissed your mouth deeply, his hand coming up to grip one of your breasts through your dress as he did so. “We’ll always be together, I made sure of that,” he held up your left hand so your ring is on full display. That same hand tangles in his hair as he kisses his way down your body. “Now let’s see the mess you made.”

He pulls down your damp panties and drops them to the floor as well, his eyes darkening at your glistening core. You gasp as he leans in and licks a stripe up your folds, the sudden stimulation making your body shudder a bit.

His tongue gently traces circles onto your clit, and you tug on his hair in the way you know he loves. “Bradley,” you whimper, shaking a bit when he lifts a hand and slowly slips his middle and index fingers into you. “It’s too much.”

But your walls greedily sucked the digits in deeper, betraying your own words. “You can take it,”

And you could. He would never make you do something you weren’t comfortable with, nor would he ever push you past your limit. He knew how much you could handle, and he knew you weren’t close to that point yet. His dick twitched at the thought of getting you there, though.

You moan quietly, propping yourself up on one elbow as you thread your fingers through his hair. “Don’t cut this,” you softly request, making him laugh against you. The vibrations had you clenching tightly around his fingers and another moan leaving your lips, this one much louder than the last.

He pulls away from your core with wet lips that were curved into a smirk. “You like me with longer hair, huh?” He teased, tracing your clit again with a barely-there pressure.

“I love you with longer hair,” you correct and tilt your head back. “Please, don’t cut it for a little while, okay?”

He laughed again, fucking his fingers a bit faster into you. “I’ll keep it this way for as long as you want,” he offered and was completely serious. His hair had only grown about an inch while he was deployed, and though he preferred to have it short, he wasn’t opposed to growing it out for you.

In other words, he was completely whipped for you and wanted to do any little thing that would make you happy, and he would proudly admit that to anyone who asked.

“You love me that much, huh?” You tease back, your face scrunching up a bit as his fingers reach that spot deep within you.

“I think I love you a bit too much,” he said, his mouth returning to your clit. Your mouth opens in a quiet whine, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as he circles the bundle of nerves with his tongue. “You’re going to be my wife. My fucking wife.”

You grin down at him, your thighs shaking a bit when he fucks his tongue into you. “You kept your word, huh? About ensuring that I’d grow sick of you? I’ve heard a lot of horror stories about wives growing sick of their husbands, Bradley,”

He looks up at you, his mouth glistening. “We’re meant to be together, baby,” he states, wrapping his arms around your thighs. “You can grow as sick of me as you want, but I’m never getting over you.”

Tugging harshly at his hair, you whimper. “You always say the sweetest things,”

“I know,” he agrees. “You’ve made me so pathetic, but it’s worth it.”

You shake your head quickly, reaching further down and caressing the side of his face. “You’re not pathetic, Bradley,” you scolded with a hint of playfulness in your voice, but you were also dead serious. “Meeting you that night at the Hard Deck was the best thing that ever happened to me, and everything that happened after that led up to this. I wouldn’t change a thing. Not even the heartbreaks.”

Bradley pulled his mouth away and stared up at you with nothing but love in his dark eyes. “Baby,” he rasped, using his free hand to assist him in crawling back up your body. He continues to fuck his fingers into you as he presses his mouth to yours in a desperate and needy kiss. “I promise I will never hurt you ever again. That was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. I promise, for as long as I’m with you, I’ll make sure you’re so fucking happy all the time.”

You smile into the kiss, raking your nails down his back with just enough pressure to cause the sting he loved so much. “Guess I’m going to be so fucking happy for the rest of my life,”

He grinned back at you. “I’ll make sure of it,” he repeats as the tips of his fingers brush against your sweet spot.

Your smile breaks as a moan tumbles from your mouth, and you grab onto his hair tightly and bring his mouth to yours in a messy kiss. “‘M gonna come again,”

Bradley hums against your mouth, your salivas mixing together and wetting both yours and his lips. “Come for me, baby,” he practically begged, wanting nothing more than to get you off at least a couple more times in the remainder of the day since you had been deprived of it for so long.

You gladly do as he says and come for the second time since he returned home. Your body shook a bit uncontrollably as you moaned against his mouth, his throat swallowing all of your sweet sounds. “Bradley,” you nearly whispered, reaching down to still his hand once you felt the sensitivity begin to take over.

“I know, pretty girl,” he cooed, kissing you again before slowly pulling his fingers out of your sopping core. Seconds later he was sucking them clean of your release, never breaking eye contact with you as he did so. “You’re so good for me, baby. Taste so good.”

“Jesus,” you mutter as you try to stop your legs from shaking. He just smiles at you, his hands reaching down to pull your dress up and over your head.

He leans down and kisses along the tops of your breasts, his fingers playing with the straps of your bra as he did so. “You gonna let me fuck you, sweet girl?” He asked, reaching behind you and unclasping your bra. “Think you can take another one?”

You nod your head as he drops your bra off the side of the bed, your kiss swollen lips puffed out and begging him to cover them with his own again. “Always,” you answer, unzipping his pants with shaky fingers.

Bradley watched with a teasing grin, his eyes moving up your bare body and meeting your own. “I don’t think you’re ready for another one,” he mumbled, trailing his fingers down your chest until they were pinching your nipples. “Think you need a minute.”

“No,” you shake your head and push down his khaki pants just enough to be able to free him from his tight boxer briefs. “Bradley, please.”

He just grinned down at your pleads, smoothing your hair out again. “You need me, hm?” He knew he was being cruel, but the sight of you so needy and whiny and desperate for him was one he loved to see. “You need to be filled.”

It wasn’t a question, because you both know the answer to it. “I need it so badly,” you agreed, pulling down his briefs and wrapping your small fingers around him. “Haven’t you missed being inside of me?”

Bradley groaned quietly as you began to stroke him. “Of course I did, baby,” he answered, pressing his forehead to your shoulder. Your hand felt so much better than his own, and he knew no one else could get him going like you can. “Missed it so much.”

“Then stop teasing me,” you murmur, stroking him a bit faster. He grunted and kissed your shoulder before sucking a mark there, and you moan as you wrap your legs around his waist. Biting down harshly on your lip, you think about what you were going to say next very carefully, and more specifically, what you were going to call him. You were a bit nervous as you didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, but decided to go for it. You could wallow in the embarrassment later if he were to not be into it. “Come on, please….daddy.”

It was as if all the air in the room had been sucked away. Bradley tensed up immediately, his mouth detaching from your shoulder as he slowly began to lift his head. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears and your skin was on fire as you waited to see his reaction.

You were a bit worried that his silence meant something bad, but when he lifted his head all the way and finally met your gaze, his eyes were even darker and his expression told you all you needed to know. He was into it. “Daddy…huh?” He tested the word out and noticed the way you squirmed under him when he said it. He braced his forearms on either side of your head as he ground his front against yours, his mouth muffling the moan you let out as he pressed a deep kiss to your lips. “I’m your daddy, hm, baby?” He asked when he pulled away, his eyes flickering between your own and your mouth.

You nod once and smile shyly up at him, as if you hadn’t just called him your fucking daddy.

He groaned loudly, growing impossibly harder. “Is it because I’m ten years older than you?”

You shrug. “Maybe. I just wanted to try it out,” you mumble. “See how it felt. If you’re not into it-”

“Oh, I’m into it,” he cut you off, kissing your neck and throat as he tried to hold back his groans. “Fuck, am I into it. I’m trying not to come right now after hearing you call me that.”

You laugh, a blush taking over your face. “So, we’re both okay with it,” you state and he nods quickly. “Okay….now can you please fuck me? I missed you for two months, daddy.”

Bradley growled under his breath, reaching down and guiding himself into your dripping core without any resistance from you. “Fuck,” he grunted, sliding one arm under you while his other hand reaches up and tangles in your hair. “You feel so fucking perfect.”

You moan at the stretch of your walls, your own fingers being nothing compared to him. It was no wonder you couldn’t get yourself off when it was this you were so used to. “You’re so big,” you gasp when he begins to roughly rock his hips against yours. “Oh, God.”

“Not quite,” he rasped, pressing his forehead against yours with a smirk forming on his lips. “I think we established who I am to you, huh?”

Another blush takes over your face as you nod, raking your hands through his messy hair. “Right,” you say, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips. “You fill me up so well, daddy. Make me feel so good.”

“That’s right, baby,” he murmured, kissing you again as he fucked into you hard and fast, just the way he knew you needed. Your core greedily took every thrust, though sensitive, but desperate to be filled up by him. “‘M gonna make you my wife, pretty girl. Show everyone how much I fucking love you.”

Not that everyone didn’t already know, he wanted to add but didn’t. It was true, though. Everyone knew that he was in love with you before he even realized it himself.

You whine quietly, tracing his scars with the tip of your index finger. Your body rocked against his with every grind of his hips, your hands clinging onto any part of him they could get a firm grip on. “I love you, Bradley,” you moan, digging your heel into his lower back and driving him deeper into you. “I have since the very beginning.”

“I’ve loved you for almost a year now,” he commented, pulling away with a grin. “A whole year.”

You grin back, kissing his cheek and then his neck as you ask, “Bradley, let me ride you, please?”

It wasn’t a position you found yourself in too often, as you both preferred him to be on top, but it was one that allowed him to reach the deepest part of you.

He grunted and pulled away from you. “You think you can keep up, sweet girl? I’ve made you come twice now and you’re looking a little spent,”

“You’re the one who is ten years older, remember?” You remind him as you writhe around a bit. “I think I can keep up just fine.”

Bradley hummed, his grin turning into a smirk as he placed one hand on your lower back and pulled your body against his as he flipped you over so he was on his back. “Okay,” he challenged in a deep tone. “Ride me, then.”

You place your palms flat against his chest as you sink down onto him, the new angle making him stretch you in the best way possible. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

He laughs a bit as his hands move to grip your waist and help guide you up and down on him. “What makes you say that?”

Your brows furrow a bit as your nails dig into his skin. “You’ve gotten me off two times now, it’s not fair. You’ve ruined me,”

He laughed again, his thumbs pressing into the skin of your hips as you slowly rode him. “I thought that was a good thing,”

“It is,” you whisper as he reaches the deepest part of you, his tip brushing against your sweet spot. “Fuck.”

Bradley gives you a half smirk and half grin as he stills you by your hips and thrusts sharply upwards. “There?” He asks under his breath, knowing the answer but wanting to hear you say it.

Of course you give in. “Yes,” you whimper, scratching down his chest as he fucks up into you. “Right there, Bradley. Feels so good.”

You clench down tightly around him and Bradley had to force himself to not come right then and there. “I know,” he muttered through a tight jaw, his brows furrowing as you lean down and press multiple kisses to the scars on his throat and neck. “I know, baby, you feel so fucking good, too.”

“Bradley,” you whine, reaching a hand up and tugging on his hair. “I’m gonna come.”

Bradley, who had been holding off since he got you off in the Bronco, felt his body tense up as he helped you ride him until you had come for the third time since he got back. Your warmth floods around him and makes it easier to thrust up into you, and the fucked out expression you wore had him grunting as he came deep within you. “Fuck,” he rasped, keeping your body pressed firmly against his.

Still buried in you, Bradley slides his hands up your body until he is able to grip the back of your shoulders and hold you against him as he moves to lay on his side. You laugh loudly, wrapping your leg around his waist and draping your arms around his neck.

“I love you,” he murmured as he pressed kisses to your neck, his hand blindly reaching for your left one. He pulled back to be able to look at your ring for a few seconds, a dumb grin taking over his lips once he looked back at you. “I can’t believe we’re gonna get married. I mean, I can, but I can’t.”

You shake your head and lean up to kiss the base of his throat, feeling his deep groan against your lips. “Let’s go to the Hard Deck later,” you offer with a teasing smile.

He groaned again and shook his head, wrapping you up tighter in his arms and moving back up to the pillows. “No, baby, I wanna stay home with you all night,”

The movement caused him to shift slightly inside you, making you hold back a whine at the nearly overwhelming feeling of sensitivity. You couldn’t believe he had made you come three times in under an hour, when you couldn’t even do that after spending multiple hours trying to. “But we have some exciting news to share with our friends,” you state and run your fingers through his hair in an attempt to smooth it out.

Bradley furrows his brows as he runs his hand up and down your back. “What do you mean?” He asks, pulling back to be able to look at you when you didn’t respond. Realization kicked in and his eyes widened a bit. “You didn’t tell anyone?”

You smile and shake your head. “No, I wanted us to tell them together. I hid my ring in public,” you say. “Why, who did you tell?”

“Only Jake, like, right after it happened,” he says as he finally pulls out and sits up against the headboard. You prop yourself up on your elbow and trail your fingers over the crevices of his abs, your mind a bit hazy at just how fit he is. “I swear, if he’s already told everyone I will make sure he does not get invited to the wedding. I don’t care if he’s our friend.”

“Our friend?” You ask with wide eyes. “I knew you two made up! Bradley, I’m so happy! You two were feuding for way too long.”

“That wasn’t my fault. Yeah, I fucked up first, but he’s the one who never gave me the time of day after you and I got back together,” he pointed out and wrapped his hand around your wrist, his thumb twirling your ring around. “He acted like I didn’t feel guilty for six weeks straight after we…broke up.”

“Bradley,” you trail off, sitting up and nuzzling into his side. “No more thinking about that day. Look at us now. We’re engaged. You’re going to be my husband, Bradley. Everything worked out in the end.”

He nodded and kissed the side of your head, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “Yeah, I’ll always feel bad about it, though,” he mumbled but before you could scold him again he added, “Fuck it, we’re going out tonight. I can’t wait to show you off to everyone. Nat is going to freak the fuck out.”

“So, before we go in there, we need to address something,” Bradley says as you and he stand outside the Hard Deck. He wore tight fitting jeans and a pale blue and white Hawaiian shirt, and he looked damn near edible, you almost wanted to turn right back around so he could get you off for a fourth time.

Thinking he was referring to your secret engagement, you move closer to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “What is it?”

He grips your waist and the smirk that formed on his lips was all you needed to see to realize it wasn’t about the engagement. “This whole ‘daddy’ thing wasn’t a one time thing, right? Please don’t say it was a one time thing,”

You blush a bit and match his smirk, dropping your arms as you lean up and whisper, “Let’s go share our news, daddy,”

Bradley held back a groan as he blindly reached behind him and pulled open the door. You enter the Hard Deck tucked securely under his arm, your left hand hidden away in his back pocket. As soon as Nat locked eyes with him she was pushing her way through the crowd of aviators and throwing herself into her best friend’s arms. “I’m so happy you’re back,” she admitted and Bradley laughed as he hugged her back. “I gotta say, Y/n and I’s girl days weren’t really girl days at all. She spent the whole time whining about how much she missed you. It was sad, really.”

Your face heats up and you look away quickly, making Bradley grin down at you once he pulls away from the hug. “Yeah, well, I’m sure Jake feels the same way you do, Nat,” he said as he pulled you back into his side. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” she said back, looking between you and him. “It’s even better to see you two back together. So, when’s the wedding? I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t asked you to marry him yet.”

You and Bradley share a not-so-obvious look and Nat raises a brow.

“What? What am I missing…” she trailed off once you lifted your left hand and showed her the ring you spent the last two months hiding from her. Her face stayed a bit expressionless as she looked at the ring, then it was as a switch flipped as she let out a small squeal before covering her mouth. “You guys are engaged?! When? Where? How did this happen? Damn, Rooster, you haven’t even been home for twenty four hours yet and you already proposed to her?”

“As if,” he scoffed. “No, I proposed to her two months ago.”

Nat looked over at you with shock all over her face. “What? What the fuck, Y/n, how did you hide that from me?”

You shrugged. “I’m good at hiding things, I guess,”

This time Nat was the one to scoff. “Yeah, right. You couldn’t even keep your crush on Rooster a secret,” she said and you press your lips together in slight embarrassment when you hear Bradley laugh next to you. “We all knew you were in love with him from the night you met. You weren’t smooth about it at all.”

Bradley looks down at you with a teasing smile. “Aw,”

“Hey, you weren’t smooth about it, either,” Nat added, making his smile drop. “I can’t believe you guys are engaged! It took you long enough.” She moved to hug him again then moved onto you.

“Only you and Jake know now,” you say as you hug her back. “We’re going to announce it here.”

She pulled back with a barely concealed smile. “How did he go about it? Was it romantic?”

You look up at him with a sheepish grin. “He did it back on the dock before he left for his deployment. It was pretty romantic,”

Nat looked over at him as well. “Damn, Bradley, you left right after proposing?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t wait any longer,”

“You guys are seriously so cute. I’m so happy for you,” she beamed. “Now please tell everyone else. I have a big mouth and I’m refraining from screaming right now.”

And that was how you found yourself surrounded by the dagger squad, a beer in everyone’s hands as they congratulated you on your engagement. “Thank God you two got here before I did,” Jake said as he stood next to you at the bar. “I thought big mouth over here would’ve told everyone the second she left that dock. I was going to bring it up with Javy later. That would’ve been pretty awkward.” He nudged you and you rolled your eyes.

“Thanks for not spoiling the surprise, Jake,” you say and lean up to kiss his cheek.

“Congrats, sweetheart,” he winked at you and wandered off towards the dart board.

You turn to Bradley and find him grinning at you, and you weren’t able to smile back before he was leaning down and kissing you. “I love you,” he mumbles once he pulls away.

“I love you,” you say back and look down at the bar. “Hey, this is where we met. In this exact spot.”

Bradley, too, looked down and his smile only grew. “Would you look at that,” he said as he set his empty beer down before taking your half full one from your hand. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest, his hand finding yours and his thumb turning your ring again. “Look where we are now. We’re getting married. We belong together, pretty girl.”

“Took you long enough to realize it,” you teased and he just shook his head before kissing you again.

#rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun maverick #top gun au #rooster top gun #top gun rooster #tgm fic #tgm #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic

433 notes · View notes

romanestuffsposts · 7 months

Note

Hi! I like your stucky x little stories. And I was wondering If I can make a request?

Maybe the reader got into trouble and the and bucky and Steve are extra mad at her and punish her. And when they come check in her, she avoids them for a long time, even if they aren’t mad anymore.

I like these sorts of stories of yours, but I feel like they get off to easy (in my opinion). So, maybe some extra angst for them cause I’m not the kind of kilter that forgive easily.

Hi there love! 💜

Yes I know some of you don’t like when it’s too much while others want to see more so don’t hesitate to ask! I’m here to write what you wanna see! ❤️

I hope you like how I wrote it, sweetie! <3

Enjoy <33

****

Warnings : snapping, argument, yelling, cries, punishment, apologise, making up, comfort, mad, pet name

Pairings : Daddies!Stucky ; Daddy!Bucky x Papa!Steve x Little!Reader

Summary : you just wanted to relax after a day inside

****

You just got out of work, it’s the end of the day and you’re surprisely still in a good mood. You were inside a little room the entire day and feel like you hadn’t seen the world today so you decide to walk through the parc on your way home.

It’ll take you more time to go home but at least you would’ve clear your mind in the nature.

You hadn’t saw the time passing as you sat on a bench to watch little ducks on the water in front of you. It’s been already two hours that you finished your work and you hadn’t said anything to anyone as to where you were.

You decide to cut your walk short and go back home, you have the rest of the week home so you’ll have lots of time to come to the parc.

Not too long after leaving the parc, you open the door and step inside of your house. You thought you’ll be greeted by the smell of food or at least your men but none of those are home apparently. You don’t see their shoes inside nor their coat so you assume they’re still at work or something.

You decide to go relax in a warm bath, you put in your favorite soap and don’t lose a time before stepping inside. You groan at the hot water that’s warming up your cold body.

You enjoy your bath for a long and when you get out, your Daddies still aren’t home. You decide to call Sam to ask if they’re almost finish with work and when this one answer the phone after the first ring, you hear relief in his voice

‘’You’re home ? Please tell me you’re home little bird ?’’ He asks. You frown and explain that it’s been an hour now that you’re home and you wanted to know if their work will take them times or if you could prepare dinner.

You don’t really understand what happened after, you just know that Sam screams at someone that you were home and then there were nobody behind the call anymore.

A few minutes later you hear the door opening violently and loud and quick steps on the ground. You watch as your Daddies run toward you and it doesn’t take long for them to wrap their arms around you and hold you tight against them.

Their heartbeats were really fast and they felt out of breath, what happened ?

Before you could even ask questions, your Daddy pulls back, keep an hold on your shoulders with his hands and stare down at you with many emotions in his eyes that you don’t understand

‘’Where the hell were you ?’’ His voice is harsh and it made you flinch, you didn’t noticed they were mad at you ‘’do you know what a phone is used for ?? It’s for when you’re going to be late at home. You text, call or send an email, I don’t fucking care but you tell us that you’ll be late’’ he practically yells now.

‘’You know how worry we were ?’’ Your Papa adds ‘’it’s been hours that we’re looking for you outside. We disturbed the entire city just because you can’t using your goddamn phone!’’

You open your mouth to talk but nothing comes out, you know what you want to say. You didn’t wanted to worry them, you just needed to be outside a little and got lost in time. You wanted to apologies because you know you’re in the wrong here but it’s like the words are stuck in your throat.

‘’Next time think less about yourself and text us so we don’t worry’’ your Daddy snaps making you tear up.

Were you selfish ?

You really did worry them but that was an accident. You didn’t mean to.

‘’Go to your room’’ your Daddy says, his voice is calm now but he sounds really disappointed and it made things worst.

‘’But Daddy I-‘’ he cuts you off with a harsh movement to melt you stop walking to him ‘’I said go to your room. Do you understand or do we have to explain how to go upstairs in silence like we have to taught you respect ?’’ He snaps again this time.

You swallow your pain and go upstairs, they watch you until you close your door.

You look around your room and shiver in fear, it’s been a few nights now that you don’t sleep here because one night you had a nightmare and you are scared to be in this room alone.

And he knew that but he still sent you here.

You had spent the evening and the night in your room. They brought you dinner but they didn’t even glance at you or dried your tears. They just give you your food, your water and they came to get it back.

Not even a good night kiss or a glance of reassurance. You had to fall asleep with the only comfort of the memories of the little bird singing in the parc earlier.

The next morning you woke up with a note on your nightstand, they had to go to work but they wrote that the punishment was over and that you did good. They said they loved you and that they’ll be back later.

Seeing this writing instead of hearing it from their mouths feel fake. It feels like they didn’t meant it. You throw away the paper and walk downstairs, a second note in the kitchen tells you that they left your favorite breakfast for you in the fridge. They tell you a second time that they loved you before signing.

You don’t touch the breakfast, you take a glass of water and go in the couch. You spent your whole day laying in the couch and thinking about yesterday. To make it short, you had a bad day.

You wanted to go outside but since how it ended up yesterday you decide to not take the risk.

After a few hours you hear the front door opening and closing. Before you can see them entering fully in the house you get up from the couch and run upstairs.

You know it’s your Daddies but you don’t wanna see them just yet. You need to show them that you’re still mad.

What hurt you the most is not the fact that they yelled at you, you understood that they were scared and worried and from all of their emotions mixed up together they ended up yelling but you knew they were more relieved than angry.

But what if something really happened to you ? What if you were lost or what if you were held something against your will ? What you needed wasn’t hearing scream, what you needed was comfort if that happened. They didn’t even asked.. that’s what hurt you the most.

You close the door shut and sit on your desk to keep drawing your draw. After some minutes you hear a knock on your door. You don’t answer which cause you to hear a second one ‘’sweetie ?’’

‘’No’’ you say loud enough for them to hear. You don’t hear anything after so you thought they left but after some second of silence they knock again ‘’please baby, can we talk ?’’

‘’no’’ you say again, going back to your drawing. You hear muffled talk and then nothing. You sigh in relief that they respect you by letting you alone like you asked.

You almost finish your drawing when it’s dinner time and you at the same time, you hear knock again ‘’sweetie ?’’ Your Papa gently says

‘’We- dinner is ready’’ he waits for a second to see if you’re gonna say something but when it’s silence, he talks again ‘’we made your favorite food’’

After minutes of nothing, he was going to leave even tho he doesn’t like the fact that you don’t wanna eat but he hears and sees the door of your room opening.

You don’t look at him nor speak to him, you walk past him and down the hallway. You make your way downstairs, followed by your Papa. Your Daddy is waiting on his seat and his eyes light up when he sees you, he thought you wouldn’t got out of your room but apparently you’re too hungry for that.

You do the same to him that you did to your Papa, you don’t give him attention. You grab your plate, put food in it and then go back upstairs to your room.

You know your Daddies don’t like it when you eat upstairs but today you don’t care. You thought they would’ve said something to you about it but you hear nothing.

After eating you lie in bed and close your eyes.

Gentle touch are felt on your scalp causing you to coming back to reality. It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes.

You turn around and see your Daddies sitting on your bed. You turn back around as soon as you see them and get up from bed quickly.

You hear your Daddies standing up too as you approach the door ‘’wait please’’ the sad voice of your Daddy make you stop. You’re facing the door but you stopped walking.

‘’We’re sorry about yesterday’’ he says ‘’we were worried sick from the second we saw you weren’t at home and when we couldn’t find you we-‘’ he takes a shaky breath ‘’I thought my heart was ripping apart’’

You look down but keep your eyes wide open as you listen to them talking. "we shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday but we didn't thought about our reaction, we just let all out and i think we wanted you to understand how we felt."

"but it was in a bad way" your Papa adds after your Daddy "we should've said it in another way. We're sorry we went too far and yelled like that, we're really really sorry"

Nobody talk for some seconds but then you start to turn around, with tears in your eyes. They stand up and go to comfort you but stop because they don't know if they can come to you or not

"can we... can we hug you ?" your Daddy asks with an hesitant voice "please" your Papa adds.

You stroke your eyes causing the tears to fall and lift your arms up, nodding your head.

The next second, you feel two pairs of arms wrapping around you and you feel nothing else but the warmth of their bodies and the comfort they send to you.

"what were you doing before coming back home yesterday ?" Your Daddy asks as he stokes your hair.

"Parc. Watching bird" your mumble, as you snuggle closer into them.

"you want to go back to the parc tonight ? We can grab some bread to give to birds and ducks if we saw them" Your Papa proposes.

You sniff and nod your head, you wanted to go back there all day and maybe going back with them can be as relaxing a than going alone.

"Alright, let's get prepared then" Your Papa kisses your forehead and helps you standing up "we can even go take a breakfast outside, what do you say ?"

You nod your head and take their hands in yours to lead them toward your closet to get prepared. It'll be a great day, you're sure about that fact.

582 notes · View notes

doctorbitchcrxft · 2 months

Text

Skin | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: mentions of assault/battery, canon violence, canon gore (take care of urselves bbies)

Word Count: 5826

Series Rewrite Masterlist

You and Dean didn’t talk about Toledo. You were back to not talking about much of anything. Your fights had become much less frequent, and when you did fight, it was more playful than malicious. For that, you were grateful. You felt incredibly conflicted about the fact that he was beginning to grow on you.

‘Like a wart,’ you thought. ‘Or a blister, maybe.’

Whatever he was, he was beginning to chip through your hard exterior. You also found out he hadn’t told Sam what you’d told him about your family which you were surprised by.

The three of you spent more time on the road than you did anywhere else. When you used to drive cross-country by yourself, you felt yourself beginning to go crazy a few hours into the drive. As much as you loved your alone time, you also craved the company of others. Now that you had it, you weren’t sure how you were going to leave these guys once you found John.

Dean turned in his seat to face Sam. “Alright, I figure we’d hit Tucumcari by lunch, then head south, hit Bisbee by midnight.”

He didn’t respond.

“Sam wears women’s underwear.”

“I’ve been listenin’, I’m just busy,” he finally answered.

“Busy doin’ what?” you placed your head on his shoulder over the top of the seat.

“Reading e-mails.”

Dean had gotten out of the car and began pumping gas. “E-mails from who?”

“From my friends at Stanford.” Sam still seemed disinterested in conversation.

“You’re kidding. You still keep in touch with your college buddies?” Dean asked.

“Why not?” He still hadn’t turned his attention from his phone.

“Well, what exactly do you tell ‘em? You know, about where you’ve been, what you’ve been doin’?”

“I tell ‘em I’m on a road trip with my big brother. I tell ‘em I needed some time off after Jess.”

“And I couldn’t make my way into that lie?” you asked.

“What do I tell ‘em, (Y/N/N)? That we picked up some chick in California and took her on the road with us?” he chuckled. “And I don’t lie to them. I just don’t tell ‘em… everything.”

“Yeah, that’s called lying,” you retorted. “I get it, though, the truth is much worse.”

“So, what am I supposed to do, just cut everybody out of my life?”

His older brother shrugged.

“You’re serious?” Sam wasn’t really asking.

“Look, it sucks, but in a job like this, you can’t get close to people, period,” Dean responded.

“How many friends do I have, Sam?” you asked him.

“Me.”

“Exactly,” you giggled.

“You two are kind of anti-social, you know that?” He returned to scrolling through his emails.

“Eh, whatever.” You flopped back on the bench seat.

“God….” Sam trailed off.

“What?” you and Dean asked.

“In this e-mail from this girl, Rebecca Warren, one of those friends of mine.”

“Is she hot?”

You rolled your eyes. “Dean—”

Sam ignored the two of you. “I went to school with her, and her brother, Zack. She says Zack’s been charged with murder. He’s been arrested for killing his girlfriend. Rebecca says he didn’t do it, but it sounds like the cops have a pretty good case.”

“Dude, what kind of people are you hangin’ out with?” his brother questioned.

“No, man, I know Zack. He’s no killer.”

“Well, maybe you know Zack as well as he knows you.”

“They’re in St. Louis. We’re goin’.”

“Look, sorry ‘bout your buddy, okay?” Dean chuckled humorlessly. “But this does not sound like our kind of problem.”

Sam wasn’t having it. “It is our problem. They’re my friends.”

“St. Louis is four hundred miles behind us, Sam.” Dean and Sam got into what you can only describe as a staring contest before Dean scoffed; seemingly admitting defeat. Next thing you knew, you were headed to St. Louis.

***

The massive door on the undoubtedly expensive house you’d arrived at opened to reveal a beautiful blonde girl.

‘Damn all these pretty blonde bitches we keep running into,’ you thought.

“Oh my God, Sam!” she smiled, throwing her arms around her friend.

“Well, if it isn’t little Becky,” Sam jested.

“You know what you can do with that little Becky crap.”

“I got your e-mail.” His tone had become somber.

“I didn’t think that you would come here,” she answered earnestly.

Dean shoved in front of Sam. “Dean. Older brother.”

‘He’s making his fucking voice deeper again.’

She shook his hand. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she smiled back.

“We’re here to help. Whatever we can do.” You peeked out from behind Sam. “I’m (Y/N), by the way.”

“Nice to meet you!” You were only mildly annoyed by how wonderful her disposition was. “Come in.”

“Nice place,” Dean commented, taking in his grandiose surroundings.

“It’s my parents’. I was just crashing here for the long weekend when everything happened. I decided to take the semester off. I’m gonna stay until Zack’s free,” Becky explained.

“Where are your folks?” Sam asked.

“They live in Paris for half the year, so they’re on their way home now for the trial.”

‘Of course, they fucking do.’

“Do you guys want a beer or something?” she asked politely.

Dean obviously did, but his brother stopped him. “No, thanks. So, tell us what happened.”

“Well, um, Zack came home, and he found Emily tied to a chair. And she was beaten up and bloody, and she wasn’t breathing.” Becky began to cry.

‘She’s even pretty when she cries.’

“So, he called 911, and the police— they showed up, and they arrested him. But, the thing is, the only way that Zack could’ve killed Emily is if he was in two places at the same time. The police—they have a video. It’s from the security tape from across the street. And it shows Zack coming home at 10:30. Now, Emily was killed just after that, but I swear, he was here with me, having a few beers until at least after midnight,” she relayed.

“You know, maybe we could see the crime scene. Zack’s house.”

“We could,” Dean agreed, but you could tell he still wasn’t picking up where Sam was going with this.

“Why? I mean, what could you do?” the blonde asked.

“Well, me, not much. But Dean’s a cop.” Sam patted his brother’s shoulder.

“Detective, actually,” Dean laughed.

“Really? Where?”

“Bisbee, Arizona. But I’m off-duty now.”

“You guys, it’s so nice to offer, but I just— I don’t know,” she said.

“Bec, look, I know Zack didn’t do this. Now, we have to find a way to prove that he’s innocent,” Sam replied.

“Okay. I’m gonna go get the keys.”

“Oh, yeah, man, you’re a real straight shooter with your friends,” Dean mocked after Becky had walked down the hall.

“Look, Zack and Becky need our help,” Sam responded.

“I just don’t think this is our kind of problem.”

“Two places at once? We’ve looked into less.”

Dean said nothing, clearly defeated.

***

“You’re sure this is okay?” Rebecca asked Dean as the four of you walked into Zack's house.

Dean clearly was having fun with the whole “cop” thing. “Yeah. I am an officer of the law.”

You hated how smug he could be. Rebecca came inside with you and informed you that Emily had let her attacker in.

She then informed you about a recent incident that struck you as odd. “Um, there was something, about a week before. Somebody broke in here and stole some clothes— Zack’s clothes. The police— they don’t think it’s anything. I mean, we’re not that far from downtown. Sometimes people get robbed.” In the midst of her story, you could hear a dog barking angrily across the street. Dean peered out of the window, and Becca came up behind him. “You know, that used to be the sweetest dog.”

“What happened?” you asked her.

“He just changed.”

Dean turned over his shoulder to her. “Do you remember when he changed?”

“I guess around the time of the murder,” she shrugged.

You found Sam staring at a picture of himself, another college-aged boy you assumed was Zack, and Rebecca that was framed in the hallway.

Dean came up behind you soon after. “So, the neighbor’s dog went psycho right around the time Zack’s girlfriend was killed.”

“Animals can have a sharp sense of the paranormal,” Sam said.

“Yeah, maybe Fido saw somethin’.”

“So, you think maybe this is our kind of problem?”

“Yeah, prob—” you started, only to be cut off by Dean.

“No. Probably not. But we should look at the security tape, you know, just to make sure.”

You shot him a look. “The evidence is staring you in the face, and you still can’t admit you’re wrong.”

He shot a look back at you that said, ‘Don’t try me.’

Before you could push each other’s buttons any further, Rebecca came over to you, and Dean turned his attention to her. “So, the tape. The security footage— you think maybe your lawyers could get their hands on it, ‘cause I just don’t have that kind of jurisdiction.”

How Becky was buying into Dean’s lie, you had no idea. He was really laying it on thick.

“I’ve already got it. I didn’t wanna say something in front of the cop,” she giggled. “I stole it off the lawyer’s desk. I just had to see it for myself.”

The three of you went back to Becky’s parents’ home to review the security footage. It was of Zack entering his house, but a strange glint on the film caught your eye.

“22:04,” Dean noted the time stamp, “that’s just after ten. You said time of death was about 10:30.”

“Our lawyers hired some kind of video expert. He says the tape’s authentic. It wasn’t tampered with,” Becky added.

“Hey, Bec, can we take those beers now?” Sam asked.

“Oh, sure,” she replied politely, turning to go to the kitchen.

“Maybe some sandwiches, too?” He was putting on the puppy dog eyes just a bit to convince her.

“What do you think this is, Hooters?” she snarked.

“I wish,” Dean mumbled.

“Can you focus, please?” you asked him.

“What are you, my mother?” Your banter was no longer filled with malice, just a hint of aggravation.

“No, but frankly, the thought of you trying to bang someone makes me want to throw up in my mouth. I’d prefer not to watch it happen,” you replied playfully. “But look.” You rewound the tape an started it over. You caught the glint again, paused it, and realized Zack’s eyes were silver. “There!”

“Well, maybe it’s just a camera flare,” Dean shrugged.

“Does that look like any camera flare you’ve ever seen?” you asked rhetorically.

He just looked away, defeated.

“You know, a lot of cultures believe that a photograph can catch a glimpse of the soul,” Sam chimed in. “Remember that dog that was freaking out? Maybe he saw this thing. Maybe this is some kind of dark double of Zack’s, something that looks like him but isn’t him.”

“Like a Doppelganger?” Your brow knitted together, mind trying to wrap around what you were dealing with.

“Yeah. It’d sure explain how he was in two places at once,” Sam said.

Despite the luxurious villa Sam’s friend called home, the three of you didn’t want to intrude on her privacy; opting for yet another shitty motel. Something about this case was bugging you, though, and you tossed and turned all night thinking about it. And then, it hit you.

You pulled on your jacket and boots and rushed over to the boys’ room. A sleepy Dean answered the door. You hated to admit it, but he and his fluffy, mussed up hair were adorable when he’d just woken up.

“Morning, sunshine,” you grinned.

He scratched his head. “(Y/N), what the fu—”

“We have to get to Zack’s house. I just thought of something. “

Sam appeared behind Dean, already dressed. “Whatcha got?”

Dean stepped back from the door, letting you into the room.

“We saw ‘Zack’ go in, but never saw the killer leave,” you explained. “But of course, we didn’t. Why would the cops be looking for that when they nabbed Zack in his house with his dead girlfriend?”

Sam was with you, nodding his head.

“Did you have to realize that before five in the morning?” Dean yawned, pulling a pair of pants on.

“Sorry,” you replied sheepishly. “Couldn’t sleep. But I figured that out, so that’s all that matters.”

Dean shook his head and yawned again. “Sam, you’re driving. I might crash my baby if I drive right now.”

***

“He must’ve gone out the back door,” Sam said. You and the brothers were walking toward Zack’s house. “So, there should be a trail to follow. A trail the police would never pursue.”

“I still don’t know what we’re doin’ here at 5:30 in the morning,” Dean grumbled.

“C’mon,” you groaned, dragging his arm to follow Sam around the back of Zack’s house. Sure enough, there was a dried, dark red substance smeared on a nearby telephone pole.

“Blood. Somebody came this way,” Sam noted.

“Yeah, but the trail ends,” Dean added from a few paces ahead. “I don’t see anything over here.”

Just as he finished speaking, an ambulance drove past the house with its sirens wailing. You and Sam looked at each other before hurrying back to Dean’s car. Dean followed the ambulance to its destination where a man was handcuffed and being shoved into the back of a police car.

“What happened?” Dean asked a bystander.

“He tried to kill his wife,” she responded with a hand to her chest. “Tied her up and beat her.”

“Really?” you asked.

“I used to see him going to work in the morning. He’d wave, say hello. He seemed like such a nice guy.” She shook her head sorrowfully and watched as the police car drove away.

The three of you hung around the scene for a while until it had been completely cleared out. You regrouped while you snooped around.

“Remember when I said this wasn’t our kind of problem?” Dean asked as he approached you and Sam.

“Yeah,” his brother answered.

“Definitely our kind of problem.”

You gasped, feigning shock. “Mark it in the calendar, Dean Winchester admitted he was wrong!”

“Watch it, sweetheart,” he retorted.

“What’d you find out?” Sam asked.

“Well, I just talked to the patrolman who was first on the scene, heard this guy, Alex’s story. Apparently the dude was driving home from a business trip when his wife was attacked,” Dean explained.

“So, he was in two places at once, too.”

“Exactly. Then he sees himself in the house; police think he’s a nutjob.”

You paused for a moment, thinking. “You think it could be a shapeshifter?”

“Something that can make itself look like anyone? Sure,” Sam responded. “Every culture in the world has a shapeshifter lore. You know, legends of creatures who can transform themselves into animals or other men.”

“Right, skinwalkers, werewolves,” Dean added. “We’ve got two attacks within blocks of each other. I’m guessin’ we’ve got a shapeshifter prowlin’ the neighborhood.”

“Let me ask you this— in all this shapeshifter lore, can any of them fly?” the younger brother asked.

“Not that I know of.” You shook your head. “But someone ran out the back of his house and headed this way. And then… the trail just… ends. Just like at your friend’s house.” You gestured toward Sam.

“Well, there’s another way to go.” You followed Dean’s gaze down to a manhole.

“Ew, gross.” Your face scrunched up in disgust as Sam started to move the manhole cover.

The three of you quickly climbed down so as to not be seen.

“I bet this runs right by Zack’s house, too,” Sam said as the three of you made your way down the tunnel. “The shapeshifter could be using the sewer system to get around.”

You were leading the group, and stopped suddenly when you noticed a pile of blood and skin on the ground. “Blegh, look!”

“Is this from his victims?” Sam looked equally as disgusted.

Dean pulled out his pocket knife and lifted a piece of the skin off the ground. “You know, I just had a sick thought. When the shapeshifter changes shape, maybe it sheds.”

“That is sick,” you affirmed.

He dropped the skin back to the ground and turned to you to wipe his knife off on your jacket.

“Ew, dude!” you shoved his arm. “What the fuck?”

He just laughed in response.

You and the boys headed back up to the car to load up with some weapons.

“Well, one thing I learned from Dad—” Dean began, riffling through the weapons cavity, “—is that no matter what kind of shapeshifter it is, there’s one sure way to kill it.”

“Silver bullet to the heart,” you chimed in.

He nodded and handed you a case of the bullets.

Sam’s cell phone rang. “This is Sam… We’re near Zack’s, we’re just checkin’ some things out… What are you talkin’ about?”

He seemed caught off-guard. You thought he was talking to Rebecca, but had no idea why she’d be upset with you. You eyed Dean who shrugged.

“Why would you do that?... Bec— We’re tryin’ to help… Bec, I’m sorry, but—” And then he clapped his phone shut, looking disappointed.

Dean found it an appropriate moment to be a bit of a dick. “I hate to say it, but that’s exactly what I’m talkin’ about. You lie to your friends because if they knew the real you, they’d be freaked. It’s just—it’d be easier if—”

“If I was like you guys,” he replied quietly.

“Sam, I’m not trying to be heartless, but Dean’s kinda right.” Both brothers seemed surprised you were agreeing with Dean for once. “We’re not like other people.”

“But I’ll tell you one thing.” Dean’s lighthearted tone was back. “This whole gig— it ain’t without perks.” He held out a gun to Sam, whose face was still crestfallen.

You followed Sam and Dean back down the manhole, gun loaded with silver bullets. You carried the case of bullets Dean handed to you in your inner jacket pocket; just in case. After a few minutes of trudging through toxic sludge with baited breath, you noticed another pile of blood and skin on a pipe next to Sam’s head. “I think we’re close to its lair,” you told them.

“Why do you say that?” Sam asked.

“Because there’s another puke-inducing pile next to your face,” you snickered.

“Oh, God!” His face scrunched up in disgust.

There was another pile of clothing and rotting skin a few paces ahead of you.

“Looks like it’s lived here for a while,” you heard Dean say from behind you.

You turned to face him as you spoke. “Who knows how many murders he’s gotten away— Fuck, Dean!” you cried, seeing the shapeshifter in the form of its last victim behind him.

Dean wheeled around, only to be knocked to the ground by the smirking creature. You and Sam rushed to his side as the creature sped off.

“Get the son of a bitch!” Dean commanded.

The three of you sped down the tunnel and followed him out of the manhole. You couldn’t see where exactly he ended up, and you decided to split up.

Under the cover of night, you headed down streets and alleyways with your gun hidden inside your jacket. You came to a stop at a dead end and wheeled around at the sound of footsteps behind you. The shapeshifter, still in the form of the businessman, knocked you out cold before you were even able to raise your gun at him.

***

The next time you came to, you felt itchy bits of rope binding your hands, feet, and neck to a cold, metal post behind you. As your vision began to clear, you could see you were in some kind of a dark, dingy room. It seemed like a house, but you weren’t entirely convinced. You heard what sounded like the older brother’s voice coming from behind you.

“Dean?” you called.

“(Y/N), it’s not—” Sam shouted, but cut himself off with a groan.

“Hiya, sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning down to your eye level. He put a hand next to your head on the post.

You turned your face away from him, straining against the rope. He even smelled like Dean.

“You are one fucking trainwreck,” he said, searching your face.

You eyed him curiously. He just laughed coldly in response. “The more I learn about you, the more fucked up you get.”

“What do you mean ‘learn’?”

As if on cue, the shapeshifter held a hand to his temple, grunting in pain. After a moment had passed, he spoke again. “You made a big mistake telling him— I mean, me— about what you did to your family. If I wasn’t ready to get rid of you before, I sure as hell am now. I hope you’re tellin’ the truth about leaving the second we find Dad, ‘cause I don’t know how much longer I can put up with you. God, from your voice to your personality, you aggravate the livin’ crap outta me.” The shapeshifter leaned back down in front of your face, the two of you only inches away from one another.

“You’re a burden, (Y/N). You’re exhausting to be around. I constantly have to keep my guard up around you. I can’t trust you, not after what you told me in Toledo. How do I know you won’t turn on me and Sammy?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you kept them at bay. You instead reared back as much as you could and spat in his face. You had taken him by surprise, but his hand was around your throat in an instant. His lips were inches away from your ear and he squeezed your neck just tight enough to where you were beginning to see stars. “You fucking bitch. Y’know, take your voice and personality away, Dean would definitely wanna fuck you. He thought you were hot the first time he met you. Then he actually got to know you, and, eh, things changed. But I’m sure he’d have tons of fun with Sam’s little friend Becky.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “I think I’ll go pay her a visit.”

He released your throat and you sputtered and coughed when he did. He covered you up with a tarp moments later. You felt pathetic, but you let your tears flow freely now that he was gone, wiggling around to get the tarp off your head.

“(Y/N), are you back there?” Dean called from somewhere you couldn’t see.

You knew he hadn’t said those hurtful things to you, but it was still difficult to hear his voice. “Yeah, yeah. I’m here.” Your voice was still shaky from crying. “He went to Rebecca’s, lookin’ like you.”

“Well, he’s not stupid. He picked the handsome one,” Dean gibed at his brother.

You admired his ability to keep his snarky attitude and stupid jokes despite his circumstances. His confidence bewildered you at times.

You pulled at the ropes binding your hands, hissing when you felt the rope creating angry brush burns on your wrists.

“Yeah, that’s the thing. He didn’t just look like you, he was you. Or he was becoming you,” you heard Sam tell Dean.

“What do you mean?” the older brother asked.

“Yeah, it was like he was downloading your thoughts and memories,” you told him.

“You mean, like the Vulcan mind meld?”

You giggled. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Maybe that’s why he doesn’t just kill us,” Sam added.

“Yeah, he probably needs to keep us alive. Some kind of psychic connection— ah,” you yelped at the feeling of the rope aggravating your wrists again. The shifter had bound you unbelievably tightly.

“(Y/N), stop, I’m coming to help you,” Dean instructed.

“I’m a big girl,” you replied sassily. “I can do it.”

Dean had made his way over to you. “Do you have to fight me on everything?” He untied your hands with ease and began working on your neck.

“Yes, but thank you,” you told him. You still couldn’t look him in the eyes after what the shifter had told you. You were doing your best to keep your exterior steely. You couldn’t deny, though, that his tight-fitting gray t-shirt over rippling muscle and the way he’d helped you were starting to break down your walls a little.

“Come on, we gotta go,” you heard Sam order from behind you. “He’s probably at Rebecca’s already.”

Dean pushed a window out of the building you were kept in and the three of you climbed out.

Sam started down the street. “Come on. We gotta find a phone, call the police.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean stopped him. “You’re gonna put an APB out on me.”

His brother shrugged. “Sorry.”

“This way.” Dean led the three of you down the street. You ran shielded by the darkness until you reached a store window. There was a display wall of televisions in it, and the news was on. Conveniently, Dean was the breaking news.

“An anonymous tip led police to a home in the Central West End—” the reporter stated, “—where a S.W.A.T team discovered a local woman bound and gagged. Her attacker, a white male, approximately twenty-four to thirty years of age, was discovered hiding in her home.”

Of course, Dean’s attitude was unwavering. “Man! That’s not even a good picture.”

You looked around nervously.

“It’s good enough,” Sam said.

“Man!” Dean grumbled, following Sam down the street to an alleyway.

“They said attempted murder,” you pointed out. “At least we know—”

“I didn’t kill her.”

You nodded.

“We’ll check with Rebecca in the morning, see if she’s all right,” Sam said, looking over his shoulder.

“Alright, but first I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy crap out of him.”

‘He’s still as arrogant as ever.’

“We have no weapons, though. No silver bullets,” you countered.

“Sweetheart, the guy’s walkin’ around with my face, okay, it’s a little personal, I wanna find him.” He turned to face you, but you couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I get it. We need guns, though.”

“The car?” Sam threw in.

“I’m bettin’ he drove over to Rebecca’s.” Dean’s face began to heat up. You knew he was thinking about his precious Impala.

“The news said he fled on foot. I bet it’s still parked there.”

“The thought of him drivin’ my car—” he whined.

You shook your head. “Come on.”

“It’s killin’ me,” Dean whined again.

“Let it go,” you and Sam commanded over your shoulders.

The three of you rounded the corner along a tall hedge only to be greeted by the sight of the car.

“Oh, there she is! Finally, something went right tonight.” Dean’s joy was almost contagious.

His stupor was broken by a police car appearing down Rebecca’s street and blocking the end of the road.

“Fuck.” You spun around the way you came, but another cop car appeared back down that street, too.

“This way, this way,” Dean began leading you over to a fence and easily climbed atop it.

“You guys go. I’ll hold ‘em off,” Sam told you.

“What are you talking about? They’ll catch you.” Dean turned into a seated position on top the fence.

“Look, they can’t hold me. Just go, keep out of sight. Meet me at Rebecca’s,” Sam quickly spoke.

You and Dean hopped over multiple fences, fatiguing your limbs quickly. Several blocks from where you and the boys had run into the cops, the two of you stopped to catch your breath. You sat down on a street corner and tucked your knees into your chest.

Dean sat beside you. “What did he say to you?”

You turned to him. “Huh?”

“The shifter. What’d he say to you?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, it’s fine—”

“(Y/N), you haven’t looked at me once since we left that thing’s hideout. Tell me what he said.”

“Why can’t you drop it?” you spat, looking down at your boots.

“Because,” he protested. “I gave you a chance to explain in Toledo. At the very least, you owe me that.”

You sighed. “He said you think I’m annoying. And, um, a burden. He said you’re trying to find your dad so quick to get rid of me. And that you can’t trust me because of what I did to my family.”

Dean was silent for a moment. “Anything else?”

“He said everything about me aggravates you and that I exhaust you.”

He nodded. “Do you really believe that?” You could feel his gaze burning holes into the side of your face.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “You haven’t exactly proven otherwise to me.” You looked up at him for the first time in hours.

He seemed surprised by that answer.

“Don’t look at me like that. Aside from Toledo and a few seconds on that plane, all we’ve ever done is fight,” you reminded him.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” A few moments of silence passed before he spoke again. “But I don’t think those things about you. Honest.”

“I feel like I’m pulling teeth here, Dean,” you remarked. “What do you think of me?”

“I mean, you can be annoying.”

You scoffed, but a smile tugged at your lips.

“And you’re way too stubborn.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “And so are you.”

“And you’re too smart for your own good.”

“I wouldn’t say that…”

“Would you let me finish?” he deadpanned.

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, sorry.”

“You just… you intimidate me a little, honestly.” Now Dean was the one who couldn’t look at you.

You were shocked. “Really? Why?”

“Dammit, (Y/N), I’m not good at this,” he sighed. “I know you heard what I said to Haley about that being the most honest I’ve ever been with a woman.”

You giggled at the memory.

“This tops that by far,” he admitted.

You nodded. You’d have this conversation another time. You rose to your feet, and he followed suit.

“Can we start over?” you asked him.

He eyed you curiously.

“As… acquaintances, I mean,” you explained. “We’re no closer to finding your dad than we were the day I met you, so I imagine I’ll be around for a little while longer. I’d rather us not fight the whole time. It’s getting exhausting, if I’m being honest.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess we can do that.”

“Okay, then.” You cleared your throat and stuck out your hand. “Hi. I’m (Y/N).”

Dean shook his head at your antics despite the smile pulling on his lips. “Dean.” This time, he actually shook your hand.

***

Later that morning, you and Dean had returned to the car for weapons. Thankfully, Dean still had some silver bullets left in the trunk. With guns in hand, the two of you headed back to the sewers. A few minutes into your walk, you came across a rancid pile of flesh, teeth, and fingernails.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” Your face contorted in disgust. You looked up when you heard a rustling noise a little down the tunnel. You could see a dim glow from the place you’d heard the rustling. You tightened your grip on your gun and let Dean lead the way into the chamber. He nodded his head in the direction of the left side of a figure covered in a tarp at the back end of the chamber, indicating for you to go that way. You followed his instruction and crept up on the figure with him. He pulled the sheet away from the figure, only to reveal Rebecca.

“What happened?” you asked her. Her hands and feet were bound, her mouth was gagged, her hair was a mess, and her skin was littered with bruising and cuts.

She was still shaking and crying as she spoke. “I was walking home, and everything just went white. Someone hit me over the head, and I wound up here just in time to see that thing turn into me. I don’t know, how is that even possible?”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay,” Dean told her.

The two of you untied her and made sure she was able to walk before guiding her out of the sewers.

“We’ve gotta hurry,” Dean said. “Sam went to see you.”

When you got to Rebecca’s house, all you could hear was the grunting, furniture breaking, skin hitting skin, and bones cracking coming from the living room. And then, choking. You had no doubt it was Sam.

Dean seemed to pick up on that as well. He hurried into the den, shouting, “Hey!”

The shifter spotted Dean and got off of Sam. Dean shot twice, and with that, the shifter was dead.

You rushed over to Sam and cradled his head in your lap. “Are you okay?” you asked him.

He smiled painfully at you. “Peachy.”

You giggled at him. You looked up at Dean standing over… Dean… and watched as he ripped his necklace off the shifter.

You watched Rebecca say goodbye to Sam, and she waved at you and Dean who stood by the Impala. She turned to go back inside her house.

Sam approached the two of you.

“So, what about your friend, Zack?” Dean asked his brother.

“Cops are blamin’ this Dean Winchester guy for Emily’s murder,” Sam jested. “They found the murder weapon in the guy’s lair, Zack’s clothes stained with her blood. Now they’re thinking maybe the surveillance tape was tampered with. Yeah, Becca says Zack will be released soon.”

You giggled. Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Get in the car, (Y/N),” he chastised you. For the first time since you met him, you knew he wasn’t trying to tear you down. It was refreshing to have an amicable relationship with him.

As Dean tore down the road, he turned to his brother. “Sorry, man.”

“About what?”

“I really wish things could be different, you know?” the older brother said earnestly. “I wish you could just be… Joe College.”

“No, that’s okay. You know, the truth is, even at Stanford, deep down, I never really fit in,” Sam admitted.

“Well, that’s ‘cause you’re a freak,” Dean quipped.

You loved earnest moments between the two brothers. It made you feel normal; in a weird way.

“Yeah, thanks,” Sam said dryly.

“Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way.”

“Yeah, I know you are.” Sam’s voice softened.

“You know, I gotta say. I’m sorry I’m gonna miss it.”

You felt one of Dean’s stupid jokes coming on. “Oh, here we go.”

He eyed you in the rearview mirror.

“Miss what?” Sam asked.

“How many chances am I gonna have to see my own funeral?” Dean smirked.

You shook your head. “And there it is.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural series rewrite #spn series rewrite

206 notes · View notes

ramblingoak · 4 months

Text

A Nap With Secondo

~ A special edition of Naps With Copia ~

For @sodoswitchimage who needed a nap with Bone Daddy 💙

Secondo x gn!reader

The naps are all stand alone stories so you do not have to read one before the other! This series came from my post about wanting to nap with Copia all around the abbey. The stories will all have gender neutral readers and soft naps.

Warnings: reader has anxiety, Secondo being kind and soft, sfw, 1100 words (thank you to @gothdaddyissues for the dividers!)

“I’m going to kill your brother.”

Secondo seemed unmoved, partially because he had heard this threat from you before. When you stomped over to the couch in his office and sprawled across it with a groan he finally looked up from his work.

“Which one?”

You narrowed your eyes up at the ceiling, pondering his question for a moment before settling on your answer, “Terzo.”

He hummed thoughtfully and you heard the sound of paper being shuffled around before he finally spoke up, “Any particular reason or are you just feeling violent today?”

“You act like I come and do this all the time.” You turned your head to look at him, frowning when you were met with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

“I believe it was Sunday you sent me a very thoroughly researched email about, and I quote,” Secondo put his reading glasses on while he picked up and squinted at something on his phone. “Ah, here it is. How you were going to “raze Primo’s gardens to the ground and salt the earth to make sure nothing would ever grow again’.”

“I’m sorry, did you have to sit through an hour-long presentation on why he needed a new greenhouse?”

“Who do you think he practiced it on?” He took his glasses off, tossing them onto his desk and then steepling his fingers together while he regarded you with amusement. “And then there’s Copia.”

You resisted the urge to cuss his youngest brother out. Again.

“Copia is lucky he’s still here and not being roasted over a fire in the pit somewhere.”

“What was that argument over again? The touring budget?”

“It wasn’t an argument.” You jumped up from the couch and flounced over to Secondo’s desk, only stopping when you were at his side frowning down at him. “I just told him that if he showed up in yet another sparkly jacket I would shove those jackets so far up his a–ahh!”

Secondo was too quick for you, his arms slipping around your waist before you could move away. With a quick tug you had fallen into his lap and no amount of wriggling was working to set you free.

“Quit that I have work to do.”

“You can’t just yank me into your lap and expect me to quiet down.”

“I’m aware, amore. I just like having you close.” He brought a hand up to your chin, the leather smooth and warm on your skin as he tilted your head so your eyes met. “Even when you’re threatening to kill my family.”

“I haven't even told you what Terzo did.”

“Something bad enough to deserve whatever punishment you plan on dealing out, I’m sure.” He leaned in and gave you a gentle kiss before letting go of your chin. There was a smile threatening to break out on his face but you could tell he was fighting it. “Would you like help?”

“I think it’s best if you don’t get involved.” His chest shook behind your back with laughter and you sighed, settling back against him. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

“There’s nothing to ‘put up’ with, amore. I’m here for you just like you are there for me, sì?”

You nodded, the sudden lump in your throat making it hard to speak. Secondo wrapped his arms a little tighter around you and you closed your eyes while you took deep breaths. He was quiet as you worked on settling yourself. Trying to calm your anxiety and frustrations from the last few days. You felt so lucky to have him there, to have someone that understood what to do when you were feeling out of control and on edge.

You felt so lucky to have his love.

As your body relaxed Secondo started humming, nothing you recognized at first. The warmth of his body and the security of his arms was enough to nearly lull you to sleep. If it hadn't been for him starting to softly sing the chorus of ‘Jigolo Har Megiddo’ you would have fallen asleep right then. You let out a little growl, wriggling in his lap again until you were free and on your feet once more. It was impossible to keep a straight face at the sight of his grin so you spun and made your way towards the bedroom.

“Off to commit murder?”

“I’m going to sleep on it first, if that’s alright. Maybe after a nap I’ll feel less murderous.”

You heard his chair move behind you and the steady sound of his steps coming your way. He reached the bedroom door first, opening it for you and placing a hand on your lower back to usher you inside.

“Perhaps a nap would be a good idea for us both, eh?”

He worked on his suit jacket and tie while you took off what you needed to in order to get comfortable. His shoes quickly joined yours on the floor and soon you both were pressed up against each other on the bed. You rested your face where his neck met his shoulder and took a deep breath of his cologne, the familiar scent grounding you even further.

“Have I ever told you how good you smell?”

“Only once or twice.”

When you pulled away to look at him you could just see the pink tinge under the paint on his cheeks. You smiled as you leaned close to kiss each one, following with a kiss to the tip of his nose and then one on his lips. The paint was slightly bitter on your tongue, something you had grown used to but it still had you making a face.

“We’re going to be covered in your paint when we wake up.”

“I’ve been covered in worse.” You had to hide your face against his neck again, your body shaking with laughter. His breath was warm against your ear when he continued, “So have you.”

“Are we going to nap or do you want to keep talking about substances?”

Secondo smiled against your ear before placing a light kiss there followed by a few across your cheek until he was smiling down at your face. You resisted the urge to say thank you again, mostly because you knew he would say there was no need for it just like he always did. Instead you leaned up to give him a kiss on his lips before dropping back down onto the bed and settling against the pillow.

“Let your mind rest, amore. I’ll be here to help you with whatever battle you need to fight when you wake up.”

You didn’t answer, you couldn’t answer. Your throat was so tight with emotion, with the love you had for this man. All you could do was get as close to him as possible, your arm tight around his waist and his own arms keeping you near. He was humming again and that was enough to lull you to sleep feeling warm, safe and loved.

Up next is a nap for an Anon 💙

~ Naps With Copia series masterpost ~

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

#oakie's writing #secondo x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #secondo fanfiction #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #reader insert

200 notes · View notes

wolfjackle-creates · 4 months

Text

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 2

Happy WIP Wednesday! So last week, we had a tie between Bring Me Home and Answer My Call. The tie breaker didn't come in until Monday after I'd already finished the entire Bring Me Home chapter and half the Answer My Call one.

So y'all will be getting two fic upates today then I'm going to sleep. I'm tired after a full day of work with a call out. XP

If you want a say in next week's update, vote in the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Chapter 2: Part 1

Word Count: 1.3k

-----

After the performances—an odd mix where the main band yielded the stage to a poet or an accordionist when they needed a break—Jazz and Todd continued to mingle.

Jazz waited until about fifteen minutes had passed before reaching into her bag to search for her phone. “Todd!” she cried.

“Jazz? What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find my phone! Shit, what time is it?”

Todd pulled out his. “Eleven fifty. Did you have it when we arrived?”

“I don’t know! I haven’t checked it. Where could it have gone?”

One of the other attendees broke into the conversation. “Lost your phone? What does it look like? We can help you look.” She was a woman in her forties or fifties. Next to her was another woman who nodded her agreement.

“Thank you, that’d be great.” It didn’t take much effort to bring tears to her eyes—all she had to do was remember that Danny was still missing. “It’s a Samsung in an unfortunately standard black case. The lock screen has picture of and my brother. My name’s Jazz, by the way. And this is Todd.”

“I’m Mel and this is my wife Jayden. I’m sure we’ll find your phone soon enough.” Then, in a voice loud enough to cut through the chatter, “Oi! Anyone see an unattended phone lying around? Jazz here misplaced hers?”

Even Mel, though, had to admit defeat after half an hour of searching through the entire apartment yielded nothing.

Jazz sat down on the floor and let herself cry. “And by now we’ve missed the last train. I’m sorry, Todd. What a disaster.”

“Hey, no. None of that, now. Tonight’s been a blast. This sucks for sure, but I can get us an uber or something—”

“How far are you kids going?” asked Jayden.

“Too far,” cried Jazz. “I live out of the city. Parked at Alewife and took the red line in.”

Jayden winced. “Well, we parked nearby. Is there somewhere close we can drive you?”

Jazz blinked up at them. “You’d do that?” She turned to Todd. “I just want to go to sleep. Is there a motel nearby we could stay at?”

Todd pulled out his phone and searched. “Looks like there’s a Holiday inn just down the street or a La Quinta that’s a little cheaper just a bit further out.” He smiled ruefully at the women who’d been helping them. “If you could get us to either place, we’d be more than grateful.”

One of the residents, an older man named Rob, took a seat next to them. “Hey, kiddo. What’s your email? We can contact you if anyone finds it.”

Jazz smiled at him gratefully and gave it. If it wasn’t so necessary, she’d feel bad for lying to and worrying all these people. But they were in so much danger. To the women, she said, “Would the La Quinta be too far out of the way? If I end up having to get a new phone, I’d like to save as much money as possible. Thank God I still have my wallet.”

“Sweetie, it’s totally fine,” assured Mel. “We’d take you all the way home if we didn’t live on the opposite side of the city.”

“Thank you, but that’s really okay. I just want to go to bed and worry about it tomorrow.”

“Come on, dear.” Mel reached out a hand to help Jazz up. “Let’s get you cleaned up then we’ll be on our way.”

Jazz thanked Rob for his help before Mel led her towards the bathroom with an arm around her shoulder.

Less than forty minutes later, Todd and Jazz were alone in a hotel room together. She pulled the blinds shut and finally let herself relax.

When she turned back to the room, Todd was looking at her with one eyebrow raised. “Want to explain to me what all of”—he threw out his hands—“that was about?”

Jazz glared back at him. “You didn’t tell me you died! Damn it, if I’d known in advance—!” she cut herself off and took a deep breath. “Never mind. What’s done is done.”

Todd was deadly still. “How do you know that?”

Jazz threw her hands in the air. “It’s obvious to anyone who knows how to tell. Including the Guys in White who I told you are dangerous to ghosts and liminals! I had plans for what I’d say when they found us, but those won’t work if you’re dead!”

“Wait.” Todd held up his hands. “You’re saying I can be persecuted under those Anti-Ecto acts?”

“Yes! You’re more ghostly than me, and I am watched every minute of every day.”

Todd narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment before asking, “Have you heard of Lazarus Water or had any dealings with the League of Assassins?”

“No! I have no idea what you’re talking about. Quit changing the subject. My brother is the only thing that matters and you and Red Robin promised to help me find him.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do!” Jason’s eyes flashed green, and Jazz glared right back at him. “The League of Assassins are the ones who brought me back to life with Lazarus Water. I need to know if you and your brother are mixed up with them because that would change our approach. If it’s a rogue government agency, that’s one thing. If it’s also the league, we’ve got a whole set of other problems.”

Jazz sat down heavily on one of the bed. “Oh. Sorry, I didn’t— It’s been a long few months. After a long few years.”

Todd sat down across from her and nodded for her to continue. “Tell me what happened.”

“It started three years ago. My parents, they’re ghost hunters. Been building weapons to detect and hunt ghosts since before I was born. But three years ago is when they finally finished their life’s work: the ghost portal. Only it didn’t work at first. Then my brother Danny and his friends decided to be stupid. They went to check it out. I wasn’t there and the three of them don’t talk about it, but something happened down there that day.

“My brother died and the portal was working. Only, he didn’t die all the way. He became half-ghost, half-human. And that would have been bad enough, but with the portal open, ghosts came through from the Infinite Realms, sometimes called the Ghost Zone by humans. Some were benign, but many of them came to cause problems or hurt people. Danny stopped them.”

Todd held up a hand to stop her. “Your brother became a supehero? How didn’t the Justice League hear about this? How old was he?”

Jazz shrugged. “I don’t know about the Justice League. It could be that no one ever contacted them. It could be they didn’t believe us. And it could be that no one cared. Danny felt responsible though, since it was his fault the portal turned on. And he was the only one with the ability to stop the ghosts, so…” She held up her hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.

Todd closed his eyes and let out a careful breath. “I can guarantee you the JL didn’t know about your town. A fourteen-year-old would never have been left alone to monitor an interdimensional portal if we had.”

Jazz had no idea what she thought of that. Danny had done it all alone. So finding out he could have had help? She shook her head. What-ifs were a waste of time. “Well, he did. But the government didn’t like that a ghost was the main defense against ghosts. So the Ghost Investigation Ward, more commonly called the Guys in White or GIW was formed. At first, they were as incompetent as any other ghost hunter. But they didn’t stay that way.”

“What happened to your brother, Jazz?” asked Todd.

-----

Sorry to end it there. But it's the right length and I need to go to bed. XP

Hope you enjoy!

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

Not much to say about this one. When I went to the event at this location, my friend and I very nearly missed the last train. It was pulling into the station as we entered. If we'd been 2 or 3 minutes later, we would've been stranded so far from my car, I don't even want to know what that uber or cab would've cost.

Luckily Jazz and Jason had a few good Samaritans nearby.

Next up: We learn more about what happened to Danny!

#dpxdc #answer my call #wrong number au #jazz fenton #jason todd #eventual anger management ship #emotions are running high #and jazz is Stressed™️#but they can finally talk #and be safe about it

191 notes · View notes

lushafterglow · 2 months

Text

Self Destruction is… well.

Chapter One -> ever get the feeling of being watched?

Paring: Mafia Boss Toji x Lawyer F!Reader

Summary: Every morning is the same, wake up, go to the local coffee shop right by your firm, go to your office, work, go home, repeat. Always the same, thought while your one to keep to yourself you just can’t but help the little kid with spiky hair. Only to find the father to too much longer after.

Tropes: Mafia romance, stalker romance, frenimes to lovers, single dad.

Masterlist

Warnings: 10 year age gap. (Reader is 20.) Stalking, cussing, descriptive violence.

Taglist: @queendessi24 @idkdudsworld

Series Masterlist.

You silently curse yourself when you walk into the coffee shop to see it packed. You looked down at the clock on your phone, seeing the clock tick from 7:08 to 7:09. You had time. You were supposed to clock into the office at 7:30, and it was right around the corner.

You claim your place in line and silently wait, scrolling through your email. You rolled your eyes and your friend and colleague, Rosie, email that was actually just secret gossip. A thing the two of you started to do since you were still interns. You two got scolded for being on your phones, so Rosie sent you an Email talking shit about your guy’s boss at the time. It soon became a regular thing.

A slight bump in your leg pulled your attention away from your phone and brought it to the little kid who just accidentally ran into you. Your brow rose curiously as you looked around for parents who seemed to have claim over him. You turned to the person behind you and subtly pointed to the kid – who had quite unusual spikey hair – and titled your head.

The person shook their head, answering your silent question. You sighed, you knew it wasn’t the person in front of you kid. “Do you know where your parent is?” The kid just stared at you for a moment before silently shaking his head, a quiet child indeed, granted he was probably scared.

“When did you last see them?” The boy was quiet again for a moment until his timid voice eventually spoke up. “I saw Daddy by the street.” You nodded and made your way out the line, cursing God for making you go a day without it, however you refused to let this kid be left alone.

“And your name? Can you tell me that?”

“Megumi.” His name means blessing. You smiled at the thought, his dad and mom must really love him. They were probably worried to death. “Do you know your last name?” The kid only nodded his head yes, making you raise your brow as if asking, ‘Well?’. “Fushiguro.” The name sounded familiar but you couldn’t place your finger on it, granted you processed probably 100 names a day.

You made your way onto the street and looked around for an adult who bared any resembalnce to Megumi. You told Megumi to look for his parent as well and you kept a hold of his hand tightly, not wanting to lose him too. After a few moments you heard a loud voice yell “Megumi! Through the crowd.

Megumi pointed to the man and told you, “That’s my daddy.” You nodded and, with your grip still tight, made your way through the sea of people and two the man. When you came to a stop the man in front of you couldn’t deny being his father. Besides the texture of his hair, he looked like a bloody older twin. Your grip on Megumi hand dropped, and his father rushed to pick him up.

“What did I tell you? You can’t go sneak off, you could have been killed!” That was a teeny bit dramatic, but granted there are some creeps in the world. You smiled to the family, “I found him in that coffee shop, no harm done to him.” His father for the first time looked to me and I gave him a little wave in return. He put Megumi onto the ground and after giving him a ‘stay’ look he turned back to me.

“I owe you thanks.” His voice was rich, deep, smooth. It was the kind of voice you would think of when reading a romance book and the male main character said something that mode you blush like crazy. “It’s no problem at all really, I’m just glad you two found each other.” I gave his little boy a tiny smile, as a way to not leave him out of conversation.

“Trust me, not as glad as I am that he found you.” You gave the two one last kind smile the hurried to bid him good day, it was almost time for work.

You walked up too the crosswalk and waited for the light to turn green so you can pass. You started at that red hand, waiting. You fingers drumming against your phone. The light flicked to green and you started to walk, but ou felt the hair’s on your neck stand and goosebumps form across your arms. You looked over your shoulder and you saw the boy and his dad.

They were seated in the coffee shop by the window. The dad said something to the waitress and he nodded her away. You were about to continue crossing the road but then he looked back. He looked over his shoulder giving you a grin that would surely light the flames in hell. Your breath hitched. He winked, taking a sip of his drink.

You shook off the encounter and turned back around, rushing across the street. You turn the corner and land your eyes on your firm. What a weird encounter. You opened the door and sighed out, here you were the one who controlled everything, and the thing about control is that it’s just a illusion. An illusion that some people can’t sell, and one some people live off of.

You didn’t tell Rosie about the strange interaction you had earlier that morning. You didn’t tell her because it wasn’t strange, a dad lost his kid, and you helped them out, but the why did you have this strange feeling in your gut?

You walked through the door of your lovely home, kicking off your heels by the door. You rolled your neck, sighing as you took off your coat and hanged it by the door. You walked through your house without a second thought heading straight for the kitchen.

You opened the glass door beside your pantry and pulled out a bottle of wine. Luxury of being a well off Law-firm owner. You grabbed a single glass cup and walked to the counter top. Red poured into the cup, not a drop landing elsewhere. You took a long sip, staring at the wall when you placed the cup back down. You started at the cup for a moment before getting up – cup in hand – and walked over to the sink. You placed the cup above it, and then titled it, watching the rich red wine pour down the drain.

You didn’t bother to wash the cup, you left it in the sink and made your way up the stairs. You walked into your room and took a seat on your bed. You loved being surrounded by trees. Being an hour away from the city. You called ubers to bring you into the busying city when needed.

You could live in the city if you wished it, and the only way you would is if you had a penthouse or something, away from neighbors. You could afford it, you were successful, but money can’t cure your fear of heights.

You looked around before standing up again, you started to unbutton your blouse, shrugging off the fabric. You then next worked on your dress pants, button, unzip, kick off. You opened your dresser and started to find one of your comfy pajama’s. You closed the door and then you felt it.

Your hair stood, goosebumpes spread all over you, and that feeling in your stomach came back. You felt like you were being watched. You hurried the clothes on the walked to your balcony, the door’s were locked but you still had the curtains open. You always did, and you’ve never felt off.

You gripped the curtain and gave the trees surrounding you one last glace over but ultimately found nothing. If there was someone out there then the darkness was their friend tonight. You closed the curtains quickly and hurried around the house, locking all doors and windows.

When you reentered your room you shook your head, ‘It’s just the wine, get a grip.’. You turned off your bed room light trying to find sleep, sleep that didn’t come.

First chapter done!!! Chapter Two is in the works right now and I can’t wait to get it out to ya’ll I hope you enjoyed this! I wrote this in google docs so if the writing format is weird then that’s why :) Also ik this seems short but it’s because that why I’ll get chapters out faster. Plus this is only the first chapter.

#jjk masterlist #jjk #jjk toji #dilf toji #toji masterlist #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #toji x reader

150 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months

Text

Dirty Work 11

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Alright, another double duty day.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Her name is Leslie. The nurse with her graying brown hair and square jaw arrives just before eight. You tell her your father’s still in bed as you show her around; you go through the meals you prepped in the fridge and where his meds are and everything else. Still you feel like you’re forgetting something.

“I’ll go get him up,” you say.

“Miss, that’s my job,” she insists.

“Oh.”

“Don’t you worry, I’ve got twenty years under my belt. I’m certain you can see,” she touches the silver along her hairline, “we’ll get him up and at ‘em.”

“Mm, well.. He… isn’t much of a morning person. He can be a bit grumpy,” you warn her.

“That’s for me to worry about. I earn my money, hon. You look like you’re in a hurry,” she puts a hand on her hip, “you can call me and check in, huh? I know it’s hard when you’ve been a caretaker for so long. It’s not easy handing over the reins.”

You falter. Caretaker? You never really thought of it like that. You’re his daughter. You care for him sure, but that’s just what you do. It isn’t the control, it’s feeling like you’re pawning him off on someone else. Like you’re shrugging off responsibility.

“I just… worry about him,” you say.

“That means you’re a good daughter,” she praises, “now off with you. Look at you, all dressed for work. Promise, we’ll send an update at lunch time. By then, I’ve usually got a handle on things.”

You pout and wet your lips with the tip of your tongue, “thank you.”

“It’s my job, and I love it,” she assures you.

You feel a little better as you put your shoes on and say a final goodbye. You can’t help but be nervous. What if she calls you before you can even get to work? What if your dad chases her off? He can be downright nasty when he means to.

You head off with your big leather bag, your body on autopilot as your mind races a thousand miles ahead of you. Everything happened so fast. Your phone call turned into an email and a quick placement. You can’t believe how simple it all was. That’s what puts you on edge. Nothing is ever that easy.

You shudder as you step onto the bus. There’s worry behind you and before you. Certain not to be late again, you take the earlier route. It’s a different driver. The whole change throws you off.

You get to the stop well before your shift begins. You saw a cafe just before the last stop. You teeter, wondering if you have time, or even the money. Your first check cleared and you’ve doled it out almost to the cent. Just a little left for yourself.

You retrace the route to the cafe nestled beside the park and the library. The residential area borders on the more elite properties like Mr. Laufeyson. You can only dream of living in a neighbourhood like this, where you can walk without looking over your shoulder.

The cafe is mostly empty as you enter. You don’t really go to places like this. There’s been a few times you got a tea from MacDonald’s but nothing like this. You look at the menu handwritten in chalk and squint as if trying to solve a puzzle.

“What are we looking at today, miss?” The barista greets. You can’t find the teas anywhere.

“Erm, I wanted some tea, please,” you step up to the counter.

“Sure thing. What kind?” She points to the little board beside her till. Oh.

You read the options; they all sound fancy but you prefer what you know.

“Earl grey, please,” you order.

“Of course. Would you like a fog or plain?”

“Um, I… don’t know,” you cringe.

“No worries, fog is a latte, we steam it up and all that.”

“Uh,” you rub your neck, “I guess I could try it.”

“Alright, plain dairy?”

“Milk, yeah,” you confirm awkwardly as you dig out your coin purse.

You wait patiently after paying. Your cheeks are on fire and you take your drink with a thank you before fleeing. Another place you don’t fit. You inhale the scent of the tea but don’t taste it as the temperature burns your hand through the cardboard.

You already regret the indulgence. You don’t know why you had the thought. The idea of being so early put you off and lingering outside like a creep didn’t sound any better. You set off back towards the Laufeyson abode and blow the steam away as it sleep through the small slotted lid

The gate code, the pathway along the side of the house, the flapping birds and buzzing bees, the smell of pollen and the rustle of leaves. You leave the spring behind you as you let yourself in the back door into the grey silence. You leave your shoes on the mat and wander down the hall.

You’re met by a shadow that appears from around the staircase, almost as if expecting you. You slide to a stop in only your socks as Mr. Laufeyson wears his usual discerning expression. You grip the cup tight as foam seeps through the slot. He looks you up and down.

“That does not belong in the library,” he taps the lid.

You stare at the cup. You should’ve thought about that. You can’t have that around the nice furniture and all those books.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson, of course,” you accept.

“So…” he glares at the cup.

“Er, Mr. Laufeyson, may I have this in the kitchen? I’m early–”

“Very well,” he allows. “I need to be mindful of time today, yes.”

You nod and retreat, surprised as he follows you into the kitchen. You set your bag at your feet and rest the cup on the counter. You take off the lid to let the heat out.

“I am to be away. I’ll need a bag packed,” he instructs, “your duties will continue in my absence, yes?”

“Mr. Laufeyson,” you put your hand to the side of the cup.

He sighs as he glances at the tea again, “finish that then report to me. I’ve a list.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

He leaves you just as abruptly. You turn to the foamy tea and frown. You’ve not even begun the day and somehow it feels like you’ve already messed up.

🧹

The suitcase awaits you at the door of Mr. Laufeyson’s room. You near and stop before the leather bag, reminded of your venture beyond that door. The disaster of your entry and frantic flight that followed.

You try to shake it off as you grab the suitcase, the list pressing against the handle as it crinkles. You enter and peer around the space. The deja vu nearly chases you out. You cross to the bed and put the bag on top, flipping it open to begin the task.

You want this done as quickly as possible, just as Mr. Laufeyson directed. You smooth out the paper to find his long cursive in neat lines. You can admire the artistry of his hand. Your own writing would look juvenile in comparison.

In the bathroom, you gather up the noted toiletries into a pouch that matches the luggage. It feels intrusive but you try not to think. It’s simple, like an inventory. Nothing deeper than that. The rich scent wafts from the little vial of cologne as you slip it through the zipper, clinging to your fingertips even as you seal it up.

You take the little bag into the room and start on gathering the clothes. A number of shirts and slacks, socks and briefs, ties and cuff links, even shoes. There is no specification of which ones. You slide open the closet and peruse the varying dark shades, only a few crisp white shirts to break the tone, though the ties and pocket square have more diversity.

You’re overwhelmed by the selection. Your own dresser contains as many shirts and pants as you can count. Your newly bought work clothes have proven troublesome as you don’t have anywhere to store them. His own wardrobe is extravagant in both quality and quantity when compared to your own.

You take out a deep blue shirt. It’s satiny and sleek. You’re not sure it’s fit for a family visit. You can assume that’s where he’s off to, though he didn’t confirm it outright. He just handed you the list and shooed you away.

You trade it for a plainer fabric but a similar hue. You take out three as noted on the page and lay them out neatly. Next the trousers. Those will have to match the tops. You hadn’t thought of that though the list is more helpful in this manner; only two pairs, one brown and one black.

Right, but what shade of brown? Tan or dark or somewhere in the middle. Or those ones with the light blue plaid pattern. It’s a bit warm for wool so definitely not that. No tweed either. You grab a black pair and turn back to solve the riddle of what shade of brown to choose.

As you move the hangers slowly over the rod, a scuff from the hallway interrupts your browsing. You don’t look over as you assume it’s own Mr. Laufeyson on his way to his study. You’re surprised as instead he sweeps into the room without announcement, muttering to himself as he does.

“One thing after another,” he murmurs as he tugs on his tie, tearing it loose completely to toss it towards the bed. You’re completely stunned by his entrance, “I swear…”

He nears as if you aren’t even there, his long fingers fleetly unbuttoning his shirt. You blink and back away, averting your eyes from the wet spots spattered across the evergreen linen. You clear your throat and scuttle towards the bed.

“Sorry,” you babble as you try to sidle past him. Flashbacks of that day tinge your memory once more. This time the bed does not obscure your sight.

“You will have someone tend to that damnable sink,” he demands.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you answer without looking back as you hurry to the door.

“Not this moment, you’re not done packing,” he snaps, “where are you going?”

“Mr. Laufeyson, I just–” you peek at him as he unbuttons his cuffs and rips the shirt down his shoulders. You get a glimpse of his muscles chest and thick arms, “I can come back.”

“You will finish what you started,” he shakes his head as he dumps the shirt onto the bed and turns to face the closet. His back is just as finely formed. You try not to notice as you put your focus to the floor. “I only need a new shirt.”

He flicks through the hangers and pulls out a new piece, shaking it out before slipping his arms into it. You return to the bed and pick up the list. The brown slacks. He doesn’t budge as he buttons his new shirt.

“I do intend to leave today so do not tarry,” he girds.

You flinch and near him. He does not move as you come up to the closet and grab the first pair of brown pants you see. He catches your hand, squeezing it around the hanger as he tisks.

“Not those ones,” he guides your arm as he rehooks the hang on the bar. He draws your grasp off and leads it to another pair, “these will do.”

He lets you go as your hand tingles. As his shirt remains only half-buttoned, it feels strangely intimate. You take the pants and swiftly back away. You go to the bed again and focus on fitting everything into the bag.

You sense him lingering behind you. You hear his fingers work at the buttons then the soft tuck of his shirt tails into his pants, the clink of his buckle as he adjusts his belt. You take the list again, half-pretending to read it.

“I put thought to it,” he stands at the foot of the bed, watching you. The weight of his gaze is like the blazing heat of an open fire. It makes you want to melt. “The gazebo. I would like to have an assessment. If it proves salvageable, then let it be restored.”

You nod as you turn to find the socks noted on the list in the small drawer of the tall dresser. You count them out and spin back. He lowers himself onto the bed, bending one leg up as leans on one hand.

“Have a carpenter in and have them leave an estimate. We’ll review on my return.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you gulp.

He makes no move to leave. He remains, his gaze unwavering. Is this some test? Is it suspicion? You peek over as he pulls his arm back and tugs his cuff over the black and blue watch. Does he think you’ll secret away a silk tie or a pair of socks?

You keep on, with no other option. You have nothing to prove, you know you’re an honest person. You move the pouch into the bag as he hums thoughtfully. You keep your hands moving as you try to fit everything neatly inside.

You look up at him, steeling yourself as you find his green eyes pinpointed on you, “Have I forgotten something, Mr. Laufeyson?”

You stop your hands, clutching tight the fabric in them. He smirks and his eyes fall down. You follow them and find yourself grasping a pair of his briefs. Your lips part and you quickly tuck them in with the rest.

“No, I think you’ve been quite thorough,” he slithers and rises from the bed, “I will be off in an hour, I expect to find my bag by the door.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

#loki #dark loki #dark!loki #loki x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #dirty work #au #maid au #series #avengers #thor #mcu #marvel

233 notes · View notes

callmewrinkles3 · 1 year

Text

All Too Well - DR3 x Fem!OC

Summary: Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye to your family without telling them it’s a final goodbye is even harder. But Em has come to terms that Dan doesn’t love her the same way she loves him, and leaving on her own terms will hurt less than being told he’s ending things. March 2022.

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: fighting, all the angst this bad boy can carry, lil bit of a dickhead!Dan, running away from your friends, mentions of death, mentions of motorsport crashes and deaths, moving without telling anyone, lying to family, talk of medical procedures, frank talks about what people want to happen if they can’t decide.

A/N: We’ve kept you waiting, but we hope this was worth the wait! This part of our story is what started us on this madcap adventure together, and it’s a lot of what makes our beloved Em Em. Thank you in advance!

Em stared at the two boarding passes in front of her as she sat in the fancy Heathrow lounge, a caramel latte beside them. Heathrow to Dubai, Dubai to Melbourne. More than twenty hours spent on planes to get to Melbourne, to jump into work and get stuck in at the Australian Grand Prix. And it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She should be excited. She should be so happy because she was about to see the boys after over a week apart, she was about to see Dan. She was finally going to get to see the Ricciardos after almost two years apart. But she was dreading it, the memories from Saudi filling her head as she thought. Em forced her attention to the laptop sitting on her knees, emails up and the one she never thought she’d write sitting in the middle of the screen.

SUB: Resignation Letter

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Dear Blake,

Please use this email as my official resignation, effective immediately. I’m sorry that I can’t offer any more notice.

Working with you has been fantastic, and I appreciate everything we’ve gotten to do over the past three years.

Kind regards,

Emma.

Signing it Emma felt wrong. Emma was for Zak Brown and Andreas Sidle. Christian Horner had used it the one time she was introduced to him at Red Bull. She was always Em or Ems now. Except for Dan, she was his Emmy. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Or ever again. If he called her that she thought she might lose the last grip she had on her composure and break.

The email was scheduled and sitting in her outbox to send after the race, and the last thing she did before boarding was reschedule her flight home. Instead of leaving Monday morning with the boys, she was going on Sunday evening. She’d be somewhere over Queensland by the time Blake received the email and the boys would be at least twelve hours behind her. It was enough time to make sure she could be well ahead of them and get away.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be smiling and laughing, and she was supposed to be in Perth right now cuddling her niblings and laughing with Grace and Joe. Learning to cook yet another family recipe and insisting that she and Dan were just friends. She couldn’t even answer the question honestly if they were friends now.

He’d sent her away. The one thing she begged him not to do, the pinkie promise she’d made him give. The only promise she had ever asked him to keep. Not to stay safe while driving, not to do anything else. Not to leave her alone. The near screaming match they’d had in his drivers room that Blake and Michael had to break up. The way he didn’t even look at her but told Blake to “take Ems to the hotel”. How she had tears streaming down her face as she was escorted through the paddock like she wasn’t supposed to be there.

She still didn’t fully believe that she’d dropped her phone in the car. Em shouldn’t even have been in the car alone with Blake, but Dan insisted she went to the hotel room so she went. She was left there alone in Saudi Arabia, where Dan knew she couldn’t leave the hotel. She stared out the window at the smoke from the rockets, completely alone all night until Michael knocked on her door the following morning and she had to pretend everything was fine.

She’d worked from hospitality and as soon as the race finished she changed her flights to go back to London instead of Perth, making up an excuse. And Dan bought that she was going back for her parents.

“Family stuff.” She’d said when he asked.

“Em, you don’t talk to your family much.” She was folding clothes into her case, the one she’d brought that had her Australia clothes already standing fully packed.

“Yeah, but it’s family. My parents have their thirty fifth wedding anniversary in a few weeks, I’m helping plan it.” Only the last part of her words were a lie and she bit her tongue.

“Everyone wants to see you, they all miss you and they keep asking when you’ll be over. The kids miss you.”

“I’ll see them in Melbourne, Dan. You go, enjoy your time at home with them.”

She’d gotten a car to bring her to the airport and Dan hadn’t even asked a question, just a “text me when you land”. There was no hug, no even quick hand squeeze like they usually did in the Middle East. That’s when she knew whatever they were doing. The nearly four years of sleeping together and pretending they weren’t, of the media wondering who she was and why she was always there, was over.

She’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to catch feelings, that it was just sex. That she could do it. That every time she told Dan “y’know, right?” it was purely platonic. That the slow sex was just them wanting to take their time, nothing else. That she hadn’t murmured to Dan to make love to her in Bahrain when they shouldn’t have even been sharing a room after Grosjean’s crash, when he kissed her and held onto her and whispered that he loved her as he entered her.

Because that was sixteen months ago and nothing had changed. It was never going to change between them. Their fight in Saudi had proven it, and now she had to pretend that everything was fine before she said goodbye to the people she loved for the last time.

She couldn’t keep working with Dan when not sleeping with him. She couldn’t watch him fall for another woman, couldn’t get introduced to more people as “Em, my best friend” anymore. She was his Emmy. He was her Danny. And not getting to love him and be loved by him how she wanted to was going to kill her.

The flights were what she expected, Dan had upgraded her tickets to first class like he always did and she wanted to kill him like she always did. She spent the flights and the layovers organising his calendar for the next three months, tracking his flights and cross checking the sponsor events that had been filled in. Everything up to Hungary was booked and ready to go. She checked her watch when she was halfway to Melbourne, realising that he’d be at the Optus event she was usually on his arm for. She was supposed to be there this year, but she told him to take Michelle instead. All the events around the Australian GP that she always went as his plus one, wearing the star necklace he’d gotten her for her birthday, and the matching earrings that were her Christmas present the same year. Her outfit was usually one he’d bought for her against her protests because “let me spoil you” was how he showed that he cared, and she always wore the gold moon ring on her thumb that matched the sun one she’d bought him for his little finger. Most of her wardrobe and all of her everyday jewellery were presents from Dan. Her life was completely entwined with his, and untangling it all was going to hurt.

Her flight got in at god-awful o’clock that Wednesday morning, she’d lost a full day having left London on the Monday evening, but she walked through Melbourne customs with her suitcase glad to just be through. She’d told everyone she’d get an Uber to the hotel and meet them for breakfast, but instead as soon as she appeared in front of the glowing Melbourne sign two small figures ran to her yelling.

“AUNTIE EMMY YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE HERE!” Em dropped her bags and fell to her knees, arms wide open to pull Isaac and Isabella into her and pressing so many kisses to their curly heads.

“I’m here, I’m here. I missed you both so much. So, so much. I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you, I wanted to see you sooner.” Stupid Western Australia and closed borders and not letting people through. Her eyes began shining as she took in the difference in the two kids, Isaac at least a foot taller and losing the childlike way he’d spoken. Isabella had doubled in size, long hair and a child instead of a toddler the last time she’d seen her in person.

“It’s ok, you’re here now! Nana said you’ll sit with us for ev’rything ‘cept the race? Cause we’ve got two years of birthday and Christmas pressies for you!” Isaac looked so proud, grinning as he took her wheeled carry on and pulled it.

“I can’t wait. Who’re you here with?”

“Grandad Joe! He has our sign, Uncle Mike and Uncle Blake told us we had to use all the glitter. We were gonna wait, but I saw you and I wanted a hug. Is that ok?” He looked almost worried of her response, but she ruffled his hair.

“It’s more than ok. All I wanted was hugs from the two of you.”

Isabella clung to her waist, Em lifting her up with one arm and mentally thanking Michael for the strength training that let her carry the girl and pull her suitcase with her. She looked around to see Joe holding a giant piece of bright orange card, Auntie Emmy written on it in blue and silver glitter. It was the shiniest thing she’d ever seen in her life, and it was coming home with her even with the craft herpes that would infest her suitcase. Joe pulled her into a one armed hug on the side his granddaughter wasn’t monopolising, pushing a kiss to the side of her forehead that made her want to cry.

“We missed you, kiddo. Grace wanted to be here but we couldn’t fit her in the car too, and Dan’s doing media today. You cut it tight to get in.”

“It’s my parents wedding anniversary next week, I’ve been helping. I have to fly out after the race on Sunday.” It was Wednesday, and she could see his face fall as he realised how little time they’d have together.

“We’re spending as much time with you as we can until you go. Those boys get you all year round, we get you for this weekend.”

“That sounds perfect.”

When they made it to the hotel Em was greeted with yet more hugs from Grace, Michelle, and Michelle’s husband Adam. There were tears in everyone’s eyes at the reunion, and the long hug from Grace was the best thing ever and broke her heart at the same time. It was so restorative, so good, but she wasn’t going to get many more of them.

“Dan checked you in, here’s your key. He’s got the room on the other side of you, Blake’s on the other wall, we’re most of our corridor. Do you want to get some sleep and we’ll call you at noon?”

The first thing Em noticed about her room was the adjoining door between her room and Dan’s. She closed the lock gently to make sure she was completely alone. After that she napped fitfully, waking up to knocks on the door and yet more hugs. The day was spent going to the zoo, kids hanging out of her as she swung them around and gave piggybacks, feeling exactly like part of the family. Blake told her to take the day off for jet lag, and she wasn’t complaining.

That evening was filled with fun as the kids clung to her while she pulled out the first of so many presents. Chocolate first so she could see their faces eating proper chocolate rather than the Australian stuff that didn’t melt in the heat. The bag of duty free was quickly eaten between everyone, a movie on tv as she filled everyone in on what she had been doing. It wasn’t until after eight that Dan appeared wearing a suit.

“Ems! I thought you were coming with me tonight?” She looked up from where she’d been half dozing with Isabella curled up against her, taking in her best friend wearing a navy blue suit and white shirt.

“Coming to what? I’m taking today for jet lag. What’s tonight?”

“The AusGP reception. You always come!” Confusion was written all over his face and Em swallowed once, looking at him carefully.

“I said I wasn’t doing anything this year. I have to leave pretty much straight after the race, I don’t have time.”

“Emmy, please.” She hated that she couldn’t resist him when he did that, when her name curled around his accent like that.

“I don’t have anything to wear.” This was the closest they’d ever come to an argument in front of his family. Their eyes were going between them as if watching a tennis match.

“I got you something.”

“Dan, you can’t do that.” It was pointless to argue but she had to try make her point. She couldn’t just do everything because he wanted her to.

“I did. C’mon, it’s three hours and some schmoozing and we can come back so you can go to bed. He did his best impression of puppy dog eyes, lifting Isabella from her. “You want to see Auntie Emmy all glam and pretty, right Is?”

“Yeah! She’s always pretty.”

“You’re very right. I left the dress in your room, Ems. Please?”

“Fine.”

She said her goodbyes and went into her room, making sure the adjoining door was locked before going into shower and change. As she walked into the bathroom she thought she heard the door rattle but ignored it, forcing herself to take time to put herself together.

Years travelling around the world had taught her how to make herself look presentable in very little time, forcing her to learn how to do a blow dry with a hotel hairdryer. It took less than an hour to have hair and makeup perfectly done, a wrap around her shoulders and a pair of heels on her feet. The dress Dan had picked was perfect for her. It was lavender, knee length with a corset top, and her jewellery worked perfectly with it. He had taste when it wasn’t about party shirts. Once she was ready she picked up a clutch and knocked on Dan’s door. He opened the door confused, but ready to go.

“I thought you’d use the adjoining door? It’s why I got us these rooms.”

“I’m tired, Dan. Can we just get this over with?”

The launch was like anything else, an event to deal with. There were speeches and then wandering around the room, Dan’s hand hovering at her lower back but not quite touching her. She smiled as she was introduced as “meet Ems, she’s my best friend and my manager’s assistant who keeps my life on track”, even while her heart was breaking. But she kept her cool, finally managing to break away from Dan for a few minutes to chat to Ted and Natalie from Sky while Dan did the rounds.

“I didn’t know if you’d be here. I was talking to Michael yesterday, he said you weren’t in Perth with them,” Ted remarked as Em looked at the almost empty glass of champagne in his hand.

“Is this going to end up as gossip on the notebook if we talk?” Nat nearly snorted with laughter, Ted shaking his head with a chuckle.

“Nope. I’m drinking so I’m officially off work duties. Unless you have any gossip about things? Anything that I can attribute to an unnamed McLaren source?”

“I don’t work for McLaren, thankfully Zak doesn’t sign my paycheque. But no, I’ve got no gossip. There’s some family stuff happening so I have to head home pretty much as soon as the race is over. But I needed to see everyone, it’s been almost two years and I missed them.”

“Fair.” They chatted about the season so far, studiously ignoring the controversy around the last race, until Dan arrived back to make excuses and get them to leave the party.

“Back to the hotel?”

“You read my mind.”

The car ride back was the most awkward one the two of them had ever done and Em didn’t know what to do. Usually if they were in a car alone together they’d be curled into each other or at least holding hands. But she was on her side of the SUV, Dan was on his, and the hand she’d stretched into the middle as a peace offering was ignored. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with that. Didn’t want to know, really. All his actions did was solidify that the painful decision she’d reached was the right one. Just because things could be easy didn’t mean they were right.

When they reached their floor in the hotel Dan stopped outside her hotel room as Em waved the keycard at the lock.

“Night, Dan.”

“But I thought…”

“What?” She was sharper than she should have been, but she was jet lagged and tired and heart sore.

“I thought we’d be sharing a room.”

“Your family are two doors down and the kids are here. The chances of at least one of them knocking on my door before I want to get up in the morning are high, and I don’t want to have to explain why we share a bed when we’re not married. Do you?”

“Not particularly.”

“Exactly. I’ll see you in the morning.”

As soon as the hallway door closed behind her she double checked the lock on the adjoining door before flipping over the door lock. If she’d looked out the peephole she would have seen a confused and disappointed Dan standing in the hallway.

The next few days passed in a haze of having the kids around, working, and ignoring Zak. She knew he was the original source of the rumours the year before, he was the one who got Mazepin to start spreading that she was sleeping with all three of her boys. It was her greatest pleasure to get to tell him no, and she did it with joy.

But in between finalising as much as she could before her resignation was sent she had time to wander Melbourne alone. She loved the city. It had always welcomed her in, it was Dan’s home race and the place where she knew everyone adored him. Em wandered around a craft market, finding a jewellery maker who made gold charms and engraved them on the spot. It took her all of ten seconds to buy two and get them put on different coloured leather cords, one each for Isaac and Isabella. The front had a pair of angel wings for each of her angel kids, and the engraving on the back read love you forever, Auntie Emmy.

Leaving her family behind was going to be the hardest part of this, and she needed to make sure that they knew just how much she loved them. Em was so aware that she was about to be the first adult to choose to walk out of their lives, and she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to break their hearts the way hers would break too. She just hoped that when they realised she wasn’t coming back they’d know she wanted to tell them how much she loved them.

Practice and qualifying were shit and she felt her dislike of the team growing even stronger. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to deal with the stupid orange team and the way that they were favouring Lando already. Dan was the one who won a race last year, not Lando. He was the one who had proven himself with podiums galore. But they didn’t care.

That night she left the door between their rooms unlocked. Her bags were half packed, her resignation email was scheduled to send and she’d triple checked the timezone on it. Em had spent the last two days hugging everyone as much as she could, surprising Chloe by popping into the Aston garage before a practice and waving to Lance and Seb as she pulled Chloe into a giant hug. Scotty got one too, trying to put the love and care she had for her best friends outside her boys into a hug. There were waves to the people she couldn’t hug because rumours would start, giving Susie a recommendation for the restaurant they all ate at the night before so she and Toto could have a family meal with Jack in privacy. The small things to make sure everyone knew she thought about them and loved them.

Em couldn’t sleep straight away. Nights before races were hard, the crashes she’d watched with her own two eyes usually playing in her head. Dan in Anthoine’s car, Dan in Grosjean’s. Dan in Lewis’s place the year before with no halo. Dan in the rain and a tractor on track. All the ways she knew people had died racing she thought about and she couldn’t deal. Her fear every time Dan slid into his seat in the car was all encompassing but racing was his first love and she could never ask him to stop.

She was about to get up and go down to Michael’s room to ask for some melatonin, but the doorknob between the two rooms rattled and clicked open quietly. Em stayed still as she was, breathing in and out steadily.

Dan slipped into the other side of the bed. If she just opened her eyes she’d be able to see him. If she reached her fingers out slightly she could touch him. It was the first time they’d shared a bed since Bahrain and being just over covid and she wanted him to hold her. Her body was screaming to curl into him and tell him she loves him and she’s his and she doesn’t want him to fall in love with anyone else because she wants him to love her. To choose her over all the models in the world he could have.

She didn’t sleep that night, too aware of his presence in the bed. She could hear his snores but she didn’t dare look up at him, didn’t dare move in case she disturbed him. He needed his sleep the night before a race.

As the morning dawned through crappy hotel curtains she could feel the vibrations from the alarm on his watch, the one he always used to try let her get some extra sleep when he needed to be up early.

Please kiss my forehead. Please, Dan. Please just give me any sign you want me to stay. Don’t leave me again.

Every morning was the same when they shared a bed. He’d delay until the very last minute to stay in the warmth and then kiss her forehead in goodbye. And then he’d leave, not content to get out from there until he made sure she knew he said goodbye.

This time he slid out of the bed without touching her, padding across the still room and going back into his. Em heard the lock slide shut on his side and rolled over, tears filling her eyes.

It hurt so much already, how was she supposed to pretend that everything was fine? How was she supposed to act normal around everyone when she wanted to scream that they were over and nothing would ever be the same again? How could she be okay when she felt like this?

He’d left her alone. Again. He hadn’t even touched her but he’d slept in her bed and she never thought Dan could be so cruel. She never thought he’d leave her with the barest hint of his scent, that if she hadn’t been awake she wouldn’t have known he was there. The ache spread through her chest and she tried to quiet her sobs but it hurt. It hurt so, so badly.

A cold shower soothed her puffy face, getting rid of some of the usual redness while makeup did the rest. She was dressed in her usual race day gear of shorts, vans, a McLaren polo, and a Dan hat on her head by the time there was a knock on her door, Michael standing there.

“Hey, I’m heading in with Dan and Blake now. He said you’re going in with his family in an hour?” Another cut in her heart. More space between them. But she schooled her face into a smile, hoping Michael would believe everything was fine.

“Yeah. I said I wanted as much time with the kids as possible, it’s fine. See you there?”

“See you there.”

Michael was a couple of metres away from her when she stepped into the hall, grabbing her room key from the slot just inside the door.

“Michael?” He turned and she half jogged, pulling him into a tight hug.

“What’s this for?”

“Haven’t seen you as much. You know you’re my brother, right? How lucky I am to have you as my family?”

“You’re the most annoying little sister Ems, but you’re my little sister. I’ve missed having you around.”

“Miss you too.”

She watched him walk away as step one of her goodbyes was done. The next was to go to breakfast with everyone and pretend that things were normal for the next few hours until the race was over. She could do it. She had to.

Breakfast with the extended Ricciardo clan was fun, Isabella still clinging to her and Isaac insisting on sitting beside her. She soaked up every moment she got with them, walking out to the car Dan had arranged holding Isabella on her hip.

“That’ll be you in a few years,” Michelle commented as Em struggled with the car seat buckle before getting it right. “The mother, not the cool aunt. We can swap places.”

Another stab to her already mangled heart. “I dunno. Wait and see, but I’m not sure that’s on the cards any time soon.” Considering the only man she wanted to have a child with didn’t want to be with her, it was a no.

You’ll be a good mother, Em. Plus you’ll have loads of family around.” She wanted to scream that she was leaving her family behind for good this afternoon but instead she just smiled tightly. It was too close to home. She couldn’t keep this conversation going. It hurt.

The race matched her mood. The strategy wasn’t good, the car was a tractor, and the oblique team orders to not let Dan try overtake Lando made her want to scream. The team points would be the same, but no. Not for his home race even. The crowd were amazing and let out loud cheers every time the orange car made its way around the circuit, but it wasn’t enough and Em knew it. It hurt. Her last time at a Grand Prix, her last time cheering for the man she was so deeply in love with, and the team and car had let him down again.

The plan was already to delay debrief till Monday so Dan got to spend time with his family, and Em decided to head to the airport nearly immediately. She couldn’t stay any longer. She couldn’t deal with any more hints from Michelle about a niece or nephew in the future, couldn’t listen to Grace or Joe talking about how much they’d missed her. She couldn’t spend more time with Blake and Michael without wanting to break down and tell them that they had changed her life and she wouldn’t make them choose between her and Dan.

Because that was what it came down to. She was the last one in this group that was all united by their love of Daniel Ricciardo. She was the one who loved him so deeply it hurt, the one who loved every single member of the group to the moon and to Saturn. And she loved them so much she couldn’t bear to have them walk away from her. Because that was what would happen.

Her own blood family didn’t choose her. They saw her as a disgrace, as a failure because she was thirty one years old, unmarried and without kids. They didn’t realise that she was the one who kept Dan on schedule, who organised sponsor events and filtered out the crap he and Blake didn’t need to know about. She stopped the balls from falling out of the sky. Because she was just an assistant.

And if the people who gave birth to her wouldn’t choose her, she knew the family she’d built wouldn’t either. She was never the one who was chosen, and she didn’t blame them. She was just Emma. Danny was Dan. She knew who she’d pick if given a quarter of a chance.

She’d just finished packing when the adjoining door opened, Dan walking in already speaking but stopping when he saw the case by the door, her carry on full with the edge of the orange poster getting folded in.

“Where are you going?” His tone was accusatory and she steeled herself for the argument.

“Home.”

“Emmy…”

“Don’t Emmy me, Daniel! You know I have to go back for the anniversary.” She turned to look at him, watching as confusion turned to anger.

“And I also know that’s bullshit. I’ve known you for how many years, Em? You’ve visited your parents twice. Michael was with you one of those times, the visit lasted twenty minutes and even he didn’t have anything nice to say about it. Michael. Who has a good thing to say about almost everyone. So tell me the truth, why are you leaving now? Why not get on the flight with us tomorrow?”

“Because I have to go back.”

“Don’t lie to me Em!” He raised his voice and Em gave as good as she got, staring back at him.

“You want the truth, Dan? All of it?”

“Yes! That’s all I want, it’s all I’ve ever wanted with you.”

She took a deep breath, staring into his brown eyes for the last time, soaking in that even so angry he was so beautiful. She’d had the privilege of sleeping with him for nearly four years, of loving him for three. Whoever got to do that next would be so incredibly lucky.

“You left me alone. The one thing I ever asked of you, the only thing I ever asked you to promise me was to never leave me alone. I begged you. Whatever was going on, whatever was happening with us, please don’t leave me alone. And then there were bombs flying and I watched one explode and you made me get into a car and leave. You made me stay alone, and you didn’t come back to me that night. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know if you were even alive because I didn’t have my fucking phone until the next morning and all the news was in Arabic. You were gone to the track before I knew what had happened. You left. You broke your promise, Daniel.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” It was the worst thing he could have said.

“But Blake and Michael got to stay. Angela stayed with Lewis, don’t try to lie to me and tell me she didn’t. Britta stayed with Seb. You sent me away, Dan. I was sobbing and begging you to stay and you made Blake drive me away. You made me leave when I was scared.” She let her words sink into him fully. “Just leave. Get out of this room and leave.”

“Emmy…” His voice was soft and she blinked back the tears she knew she wanted to cry. Not until the airport. Not until then.

“GET OUT DAN!” She yelled at him for the first time, shock on his face. “JUST LEAVE! It’s what you’ve been doing this whole weekend, just leave.”

“Fine. Fine. If that’s what you want, I’m fucking gone. I’m done here, I’m gone. I’ll be downstairs in five for you to say goodbye to everyone.” She watched him walk through the adjoining door and lock it as Em’s heart completely broke in two. She’d ruined it. He was done. He was gone. He was leaving and she was going and she would never speak to him again because her Daniel wasn’t hers anymore. One person down, eight to go.

She brought her bags down to the lobby alone, everyone standing there waiting to say goodbye. Michael got a hug, she’d said everything she needed to earlier that day. Blake was beside him, wrapping her in a full body giant one and holding her tight.

“You know I love you, don’t you? I really love you.” Blake grinned and pulled her close again.

“Love you too, Ems. Moving beside you was the best decision I ever made.”

Saying goodbye to Michelle and Adam was hugs and whispers of seeing them for Christmas when she knew it was a lie. Grace pulled her into a hug that only a mother figure could, whispering in her ear.

“We’re coming over for Silverstone and yours and Dan’s birthdays, so we’ll see you then. We love you Em. If you need anything I’m only a FaceTime away. Don’t let them get you down when you’re with your family.”

“I love you too, Grace.”

Joe got a hug and a murmured love you, his hand patting her back soothingly. The kids were last, sulking as Em squatted down in front of them.

“So I got my angels a present to say goodbye, cause I know I didn’t get to see you lots. Want to see them?” There were identical nods and Em strapped the bracelets on, Isaac’s on a black cord and Isabella’s on a purple one.

“It matches the one I made you and Uncle Dan,” Isabella murmured as Em pulled her into a tight hug.

“It does. It’s a reminder that I love you both so very, very much. No matter how far away we are, I’m always going to love you, okay? Don’t ever, ever forget that. Pinkie promise me?” She held out her little fingers, laughing as they both enthusiastically took part in the ritual. She pulled them in for a final hug, pressing kisses to both of their heads.

“See you on winter break!” Isaac grinned as he spoke, Em putting a tight smile on her face.

“We call it summer break, but I’ll see what we have to do then buddy.”

“Do you want a lift to the airport? I’ve got the rental?” Joe asked but Em shook her head.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got an Uber coming, I just want to get on the road. It’s hard enough to say goodbye to everyone I can’t drag it out much longer.”

“Fair. Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, Joe.” Her phone buzzed with the notification that her driver was there and she started towards the door. Dan still hadn’t come down and that was it. He didn’t love her. He didn’t feel anything like how she did because no matter what he’d said, he’d never make her leave. But she made him leave. He was gone.

She was almost at the door when an oh too familiar voice called across the lobby, running up to them.

“I didn’t think you’d be leaving already.”

“My Uber’s outside, I need to leave.”

“Oh.” There was none of their usual hugs, none of the subtle kisses he pushed to the top of her head when they were separated. He didn’t even squeeze her fingers. It was like they were strangers. “Send a text when you get to London?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She turned to get her luggage into the car, shielding her face from everyone with her hair. The driver lifted it in and she was soon safely ensconced in the back seat, tears falling down her cheeks as she waved goodbye behind partially tinted glass.

“Was that Daniel Ricciardo?” The driver asked, Em forcing a smile.

“Yeah, I work with him.” It was true for another five hours at least.

“He seems like a good guy.”

“He’s one of the best.”

Tears streamed down Em’s cheeks the entire way to the airport, through the fancy check in area and security, and following her into her first class pod. She mostly ignored the staff apart from nodding at them, continuing to cry and wipe her eyes on tissues. The tears barely stopped until Dubai, only aided by Blake’s near constant texts as soon as her email sent.

She knew when she arrived in London that she had about twelve hours before the boys landed, Blake texting even while he was on his flights. She sent a I got back safely, receiving another flurry of responses.

Em, what’s this email about?

What’s going on?

Tell me you didn’t mean to send this

Is it the travel? Do you want to slow down? Why?

Ems we need you. How am I supposed to tell everyone you’re not coming with us anymore? Did you meet someone? Did something happen?

We’re about to land in Heathrow. Dan’s going to his place and looks miserable. I’ll be at your door in less than two hours.

When she got the final text Em grabbed the bags she’d hastily packed with clothes and the things she needed for the next eight days until the boys had left London for Imola. The address of the last minute airbnb was in her email, getting an Uber to it handy. She was long gone by the time Blake arrived, sitting in her temporary home for the next while and planning what she had to do. They’d leave England on the Wednesday, she had five days to empty her flat.

It started with an email to her landlord to give up the lease. Her family reasons excuse was accepted quickly, the landlord told she had to leave London and the apartment would be vacant from the end of the month. After that she had to start planning on where to go to.

There were too many memories in London. Nearly every street reminded her of Dan, of days walking around hand in hand to show him her London, not the tourist one he knew. The city she’d moved to at eighteen with a dream and a student loan and where she’d discovered who she was. Dan was everywhere in the city for her - memories of their first kiss in the pub she’d spent too many hours in, museums she’d dragged him to, streets he’d stolen a kiss from her at with a grin and a chuckle when they were waiting to cross the road. The cafes and greasy spoons she’d brought him to with the promise of not telling Michael. She couldn’t stay there, it was too much.

But everywhere she thought of had memories of him. Filthy weekends away when they were at home because of covid, eating out to help out and driving to Manchester or Glasgow to spend time together and have hotel sex. The midlands were completely out because of Silverstone, of memories of Enstone and the Renault factory, of Milton Keynes and his goodbye from Red Bull.

The only big city she could think of without a memory of Dan - with only one memory of her boys - was Liverpool. Which meant her parents. Which meant a conversation she never wanted to have. Calling her mother wasn’t like calling Grace. But she didn’t have Grace in her life anymore, so she had to do it.

“Emma, what country do you deign to call us from today?” Her mother answered the phone, disdain dripping from every word.

“Good morning, Mother. I’m in England. I was calling because I need to ask for a favour from you.”

“Yes?”

Em swallowed, teeing up words on her too thick tongue. “I had to leave my job, they didn’t have the funding to keep me on. I was wondering if I could move home for a few weeks while I’m applying for new jobs. I want to leave motorsports, there’s too much travelling and I want to settle down.” She hit every keyword that her mother had as she checked her bank account balance, spotting her final pay deposited in the account. It was more than healthy thanks to travelling so much for work and Dan covering that under work expenses. But she needed to be sensible, and renting somewhere without a job would be a mistake.

“You can. You will need to pay rent while you’re here.”

“Of course. Just let me know how much. It wont be for long, it’s just a few weeks. It’ll be like I won’t even be there, if I’m not interviewing I’ll be in my bedroom.”

“Fine. Let me know when you plan to arrive.” She sounded bored of the conversation already.

“I’ll be back April twenty fourth. I can send you the train details then.

“See you then.”

The difference between the call with her mother and a call with Grace just cut the wound in her chest even harder. Grace never let a call end without a million “I love you”s between them. She made sure that Em spoke to everyone in the family, and if Joe was out at the garage she took a message and told Em that he loved her. Instead her mother hadn’t even asked if Em wanted to leave a message for her father.

It felt so, so wrong.

The list of things she had to do before the boys left for Italy was beginning to shrink, but there was still so much to do. She ignored Blake and Michael’s texts, refusing to even open them. The chats were archived so the red dots didn’t irritate her. Dan didn’t send her anything at all, yet more proof that he meant everything he said in Melbourne. He was done with her. She didn’t realise that emotional pain could hurt this much. She’d never believed in soulmates, never believed in fate. She always thought that if a relationship ended she’d get through it. But now? This not quite a relationship over? It ached to her core.

Friday morning she had an appointment with a solicitor, walking in with a tear stained sheet of what she wanted to leave to different people. She’d always fought with Dan about being prepared if something happened to him, not wanting to know what he left her. She was one of the two people who could decide what medical treatment he got if he couldn’t consent. She’d cried when he told her that day in Spa when they got that tragic news what he wanted if he was in a crash like that. That he trusted her to not let him stay on machines. Some of her nightmares included his plaintive “I don’t want false hope” that made her ache.

She didn’t trust her parents to not do the same for her. They’d keep her hooked up to machines for as long as possible, they’d insist it was for “hope”. Em didn’t know what hope, but she knew them. They’d barely spoken for five years apart from occasional texts and birthday cards, they didn’t have the right to decide what happened to her.

It was a blustery Friday morning when she walked into that office and signed the papers to say Daniel Ricciardo, Blake Friend, and Michael Italiano were the people who decided what would happen if she couldn’t make her own medical decisions. She gave the lawyer the makeshift will that was handwritten and tearstained. It was simple - her cookbooks and exercise equipment to Michael because he was always trying to adapt her recipes. All but one piece of her furniture to Blake. Her CDs and DVDs to Dan, along with the coffee table he kept falling over. Her collection of Dan’s raceworn helmets to Isaac and Isabella. Dan, Grace, and Michelle were to divide her jewellery between them based on who wanted what. The rest of her belongings were to be sold and the money put in Isaac and Isabella’s college funds. It was too easy.

Even after everything that had happened, even after walking away, she trusted her boys more than she trusted anyone else in the world.

After all of that her final task was to organise her storage unit and movers. That was easiest of all if Em was honest. A call to a moving company who agreed to put everything in the unit without her there, and walking into a storage company. She signed a two year contract and paid the full rent then and there, surprising the man at the counter. Now she was able to disappear.

The texts kept coming from Blake and Michael. WhatsApp and iMessage, even a signal account she’d forgotten she had on her phone. Michael sent her instagram DMs so she deleted the app instead of trying to avoid reading them and appearing online. But finally it was Wednesday and she knew exactly when the boys were flying out of London City Airport. She’d organised the private flight for them, booked the plane and made sure the flight was as clean as possible. As soon as they’d take off her plan could start.

Walking back into her apartment felt too normal, just checking her post and finding it mostly full of letters from Blake. Get in touch, we’re worried, we miss you. Sentiments she knew he’d share but it would be easy for him to forget about her. The letters went out in recycling and she began to pack up her life.

The boxes were settled easily. Storage, donating, and Dan’s stuff. The ones for him filled quickly, clothes and accessories and things he’d left lying around the apartment that had become theirs instead of just hers. It took three boxes to get rid of the sense of him.

The storage boxes were easier, but the final thing she had to do at four that Sunday morning was decide what to do with her helmet wall. Ever since Monaco and his win, Dan had given her his race worn helmet for any new race design. She could name which race each of them was from, and in the middle was her Monza win one. McLaren had wanted it for the MTC but Dan refused to give it over, insisting it was his and he was keeping it. They got the trophy so he got the helmet. And then he put it in the middle of the IKEA shelves that they’d spent a weekend putting together and laughing.

Part of her - a large part if she was truly honest - wanted to donate them. Get rid of them for the clean break she insisted she needed. But she couldn’t. They were the good parts of the last four years, the best part of her life and the reminder that for years she got to love Daniel Ricciardo and travel the world with her best friends. Once she was settled somewhere she’d put them all back up to get her and explain to whoever asked that she was a part of Formula One for a short while, and it meant so much to her.

It took longer than she expected to get them wrapped carefully and boxed away. Two just about fit in one box, but they were light at least. When they were carefully labelled with the races, a tear falling from her eye when she wrote Monaco 2018 on a box in looping letters, she sat down to write notes to her boys. They deserved more than a resignation email and leaving without saying goodbye but if she saw them in person she wouldn’t walk away. She was barely strong enough to do that the first time. Em couldn’t do it again.

Dan’s took the longest. It started with anger. How could you make me love you when you didn’t love me back scrawled angrily, tears staining the lined pages as she wrote everything. But she couldn’t give it to him how she’d written it. She couldn’t deliberately hurt him. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that she’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t love her back the way she wanted him to love her. It was her fifth draft, still tear stained, that was the one she was giving him.

Danny,

I’m sorry I didn’t say this in person but I couldn’t do it. We both know that things between us haven’t been working for a while. It’s nobody’s fault. I guess we just wanted different things. It happens to us all. But we’re both done and writing this is easier than another long conversation and another fight.

Go be happy. I’ll cheer you on from wherever I end up, no matter what. You’ve changed so many lives, mine included. Thank you for the amazing years and experiences. You let me do things that so few people ever get to do and I can’t thank you enough for that.

Emma

Michael and Blake’s were harder and easier. She only needed one attempt at them, trying to wipe the tears before they fell.

Blakey,

I’m sorry for leaving like this. I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch, but I made sure that everything logistically is booked until the summer break. Just get him where he needs to be on time, you were always better at that than me.

I love you. You’re my big brother and i wasn’t going to make you choose between me and Dan, that was never going to be fair. I’ll be happy and I want you to be happy too. Find a girl and settle down or bring her around the world. I’m rooting for you the entire time.

Will you make sure everyone in the paddock knows I love them? Tell Chloe and Scotty to get their wedding planned. Chloe will be the most beautiful bride and I’m so sorry I won’t get to see her in person. Scotty will look ok, I guess.

Thank you for everything.

Love,

Ems

PS - the extra key is for my storage unit. A1 Storage in Wimbledon. Figured you’d be a good person to have it.

She folded Blake’s letter into an envelope and labelled it before writing the last one. Somehow this was the hardest, having to ask Michael to do what she couldn’t.

Mike,

I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for asking you to pass a message on but I know you will. I love you so much. You made lockdown bearable even when I was being a bitch, and you made me actually enjoy exercising you cruel man.

Tell everyone that I love them and I’m sorry? You let me know exactly what a family is and how I deserve to be loved and that’s something I can never thank you enough for. Ever. I can’t make people decide between me and Dan. He wins every time and that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’s easier if I just leave.

Tell Grace and Joe I love them and I will forever be grateful for their love and support. Let Michelle know that she’s the best big sister ever. Please make sure that Isaac and Isabella know that I love them no matter what. It’s not their fault I left and I will always love them. Whoever gets to be their auntie is the luckiest person in the world and I wish it got to be me.

Tell all your family I love them, and ti voglio bene to Nadia and your Nana. I love you all so much, and I’m cheering you all on from wherever I end up.

Love,

When the movers came she handed them the key to the storage unit, letting them know what to do. Everything was out of the apartment in a few moments and Em took a last look around her almost empty apartment. The memories were suffocating. Dan tripping over the coffee table, the London lockdown when they got back from Australia and they lied to Michael about what the yoga mat’s primary purpose was. The way Dan danced with her in the dark kitchen, distracting her from finding food for them in the fridge and getting them to sway in the silence. The kisses and living together like he loved her the same way she loved him.

He’d been blowing up her voicemail since Wednesday and she deleted them I listened to. The first “Emmy” hurt her too much, so she decided to practice self preservation for once. As soon as her voicemail said “you have an unlistened to voicemail from Dan” it was deleted. The same with Blake and Michael. She couldn’t do it.

Finally it was time to leave, and she carried Dan’s boxes one at a time into Blake’s apartment. The three were stacked one atop the other, the letters on top of them. Em stared at her thumb, at the moon ring that had been there since Dan bought it for her calling her his moon on dark nights. She couldn’t bear to take off the three necklace hanging on her chest, but this she had to leave behind. She wasn’t his moon, and he was too bright to be her sun.

She slipped it off and rubbed her finger against the warm gold, pushing a kiss to it before stepping back. The final thing she needed to do was leave the envelope with her medical power papers and will on Blake’s coffee table before she locked the front door and slipped his keys in his post box. It was done. She was gone.

The tube to Euston was quicker than expected and she joined the trek to the Liverpool train, settling into her seat a few minutes before they were due to pull out. Her phone lit up with a notification that the race was about to start, illuminating the photo from lockdown of her and Dan holding Isaac and Isabella. They looked like a family. Em unlocked her phone and pushed her thumb firmly down on the F1 app to delete it. A clean break.

The train pulled off exactly at two, her mind echoing Crofty’s “lights out and away we go”. Dan was in the car and racing and all she wanted was a good points finish for him. But she couldn’t check. She couldn’t let herself find out what he was doing.

Her tears fell harder as the train pulled into Milton Keynes, the memories of the last time she’d done this train journey as Dan’s plus one. His leaving Red Bull party, staying in a hotel with him the week before they flew to Perth for Christmas. It was the only time she’d gotten to visit the impressive Red Bull factory. Meeting Max properly, Christian cornering her with his wife - and keeping her cool around Geri fucking Halliwell - to ask if she could convince Dan to come back. Getting whisked away from Helmut quickly when he tried to speak to her, meeting the mechanics and team that she’d seen at several races properly for once. Yet another place she could never visit again because all she’d think about was Dan.

Em made herself stop crying shortly after, pushing a cold bottle of water to her eyes. She couldn’t be red eyed or puffy seeing her parents. It was bad enough returning with her tail between her legs. She didn’t know if she’d survive the I told you so.

When Dan got out of the car in Imola he knew what he had to do. His first stop was being weighed and getting his slip, Mike pushing one of those AG1 drinks into his hand to down to get electrolytes and water back into him. After that it was media rounds, apologising to Carlos, and doing media. Once the debrief was finished it was London. He needed to get to Emmy. For the second time he’d gotten on a plane when he should have been with her and he needed to apologise. Needed to make things right.

“The jet will be ready when we finish? I need to get back to London tonight.” Michael handed him a McLaren branded shirt and pair of skinny jeans to put on once he was out of the shower.

“It’ll be ready. Mate, you need to know that she might not want—“

“She’ll see me. It’s Em. She’s my Emmy. She’s going to see me and I’m going to tell her everything. I can’t do this without her. I can’t. I dunno how I did it before.”

“Ok. Go shower and head out.”

The debrief was painful. Lando on the fucking podium, Dan last. They wrote off his technical debrief after the collision. It was clear Dan couldn’t have done anything, and the rest of his race was nothing to write home about. He should have just retired. It was shit and he just had to listen to how Lando had a flawless race and was extracting the most out of the tractor McLaren had built. He had to wait until it was over, half listening and taking notes while stewing.

All he could think about was Emmy. He hadn’t reached out because he thought she needed space, wanted time. He’d had the fucking ring in his pocket in the hotel room and then they’d fought and he couldn’t exactly get on one knee and ask her to marry him after that. But now she was gone and she’d been gone for weeks and he didn’t know. He needed her to be ok. He needed to go home and see her on the couch and beg for her forgiveness because he was hers. His apartment was so fucking lonely, driving in and out of the factory without seeing her. Without going to sleep curled up beside her and waking up with the fairy lights glowing as she read whatever dog eared book she was rereading that month.

The voicemails were being listened to. Her inbox went from full to empty and he kept texting, determined to get through to her. Needing her to talk to him. To say anything at all. People kept asking where she was, he laughed it off and gave the excuse of family stuff. Natalie had nodded and said she hoped Em would be back soon. Chloe had looked at him oddly when she heard the excuse but he shrugged and moved on. The elder Stroll could be terrifying and he didn’t want to get on her bad side. Not even Scotty could save him from that.

There was nothing he could do but wait to be freed. The moment they were able to break - after Dan apologised to the mechanics for the job they’d have to do on the car - he was on his way to the driver room. Blake and Michael were already there with bags packed and ready to go.

It was a two hour flight to London and they landed at nine. After forcing their way through traffic in a black cab it was after nine thirty by the time they arrived at Blake and Em’s building. Dan stepped out of the car and grabbed his bags, heading straight upstairs to the two identical doors. He didn’t realise when it became more normal to stand in front of Em’s door than Blakes, but it had years before. He knocked twice to no response.

“Em? I’ve got my key, I’m coming in.”

The lock turned easily with the familiar key and Dan set his bags down to flick the light switch. What he saw terrified him.

The room was empty. The couch that killed his back, the coffee table his shins hated, gone. The bookshelves and the kitchen table they’d spent a lockdown day building, gone. Her helmet collection was missing. Em had once told him that if the building went on fire she would save whichever helmets she could. If they were gone, she was gone.

He ran to her bedroom but everything was missing. The fairy lights they’d taped up with double sided tape. Her bed. The throw cushions he laughed about. Even the case at the bottom of her wardrobe with the lingerie he’d bought her was gone. Her pink boots weren't there. It was like nobody had lived there for years. He couldn’t even smell her perfume in the air.

“Dan?” He hadn’t realised tears were streaming down his face when he turned to see his best mates standing in the doorway. “Mate, you need to see this.”

He followed them back to Blakes, pausing to lock Emmy’s front door. She had to come back. The idea that she wouldn’t come back was impossible.

Until he saw the boxes.

Three of them, neatly stacked almost up to Blake’s chest. There were three envelopes on them, and a glint of gold on top of one. He nearly ran to it, ignoring the post race soreness going through his body to see the ring he’d given her sitting on top of the one neatly labelled Daniel.

She’d used his first name. Emmy never used his first name unless something was wrong. He’d fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to open it.

Instead he held the ring firmly in his palm, the metal cold against his hand. She was there. She had been there and now she was gone and he didn’t know what to do. But instead he followed what Blake and Michael had done and opened his letter.

It was how impersonal it was that killed him. Em was done. She’d be fine. Thanking him for bringing her around the world and letting her work with him. She didn’t want another fight and she thought he was done with her.

She didn’t love him like he loved her and for a brief moment that made him want to die. The moments they’d shared, the times they’d said they loved each other. The times he’d held her and traced I love you down her back or against her clit when he was eating her out, desperate for her to know but too afraid to say it. The 'y’know, right?'. Everything from the last nearly four years. None of it had ever mattered because she wouldn’t have married him. He had her ring in his fucking ever present backpack and thank God he hadn’t tried to propose because she’d have said no and he’d have been humiliated.

“I guess you were right. Buying the ring was a mistake.”

His choked voice broke the silence, but it was Michael who got the next sentence in, cutting off Blake’s question about the ring.

“Mate, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“She doesn’t love me like I love her. I was wrong. I just got my heart broken so please, don’t rub it in right now?”

“Did you read any of what she wrote?”

“Yeah. She’s done. She thanked me for letting her travel with us. Like she didn’t earn her place. She signed it Emma. I was wrong, ok? I was wrong and I can’t take you rubbing it the fuck in when I think Im gonna break.”

“What happened? Because the two of you were fine in Bahrain, and then after Saudi she disappeared and skipped Perth, and she was barely in Melbourne. What happened with you?” Blake was the one who asked, Dan flopping on the couch beside him. He held out his much shorter letter for them to read.

“Things were weird when we got back after Christmas. Then we had covid and got through it. And Saudi fucking happened. With everything going on and keeping her safe I didn’t see her till after the race and she was already leaving. And in Melbourne we… We had a fight.” The memories of what he’d said were circling again, the anger between them, Em telling him to leave again. Him walking away.

“We thought that much. You didn’t even hug her goodbye.”

“She told me to leave!”

“In self preservation.” Michael’s voice was low and Dan was almost afraid of his best friend. “She said she didn’t want to make us choose between you and her, that she knew we’d pick you. So she left. I have to tell your fucking family she’s gone, by the way. She asked me to. So you’re going to tell me everything that’s happened between the two of you and we’re going to fix this. What the fuck did you do?”

He wanted to be annoyed that he was being blamed but he couldn’t blame the boys. So he let everything out.

He told them about wanting to kiss her in Blake’s that first night, of Monaco and their agreement that it was over once she left Monaco. Coffee and Silverstone and her birthday drinks. Spa and I love you when they were faced with the reality of what could happen with his job again. Em begging him to never leave her behind, that no matter what he wouldn’t leave her alone. Her dick of an ex who’d destroyed her self-esteem and meant she lost her friends. The meaning of 'Y’know, right?', the phrase that had been their mantra since 2019. That he hadn’t slept with anyone else since he’d met her because he just knew she was supposed to be his. That he’d bought the ring when they spent Christmas 2020 together but was just waiting for the right moment. And then in Saudi she’d been sobbing and he sent her away. He made Blake take her away from him. From them. He’d broken his fucking promise and again in Australia he walked away when he should have stayed in that room.

She’d picked the fight. She’d picked it so she’d be left alone and leave and the realisation of how well she fucking knew him hurt so much. She knew him like the palm of her hand and for a minute he forgot about it.

“Let me get this straight. You’ve known just how shit her family is for longer than any of us, and I’m the only one who’s actually met them. She asked for exactly one thing from you which was don’t leave her alone. And in Saudi, one of the countries she’s most scared of being away from us for any length of time, you made her go back to the hotel and stay there on her own. She begged you to stay and was sobbing and you left her to cry when she asked you to stay? I could fucking punch you right now.” He nodded at Michael’s words, shame filling every cell in his body.

“You made us leave her alone.” Blake spoke and Dan thought he was going to be sick. “In Melbourne. The morning of the race. 'Em’s going with my parents. She wants family time.' She didn’t know she was going with them, did she? Why?”

“She… I… No. We weren’t ok. I didn’t know if I could be in the car with her. Not after that night.”

“What happened?”

“I… Fuck. She kept the door between our rooms locked that whole week. But Saturday night it wasn’t locked. I had a habit of just trying it, just in case. It was open and I went in. I just lay down on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep for a while before falling asleep. I left before she woke up. She didn’t know, she was asleep the whole time.”

“You think our Ems was asleep for a full night before a fucking race? Are you an idiot? Did you get brain damage in that crash today? She doesn’t fucking sleep! You slept in the same bed as her for four fucking years and you don't know that? She’s into me for melatonin every damn night because she can’t sleep worrying about you. She was awake that entire night and you left her without saying a goddamn word and then you abandoned her again. Again, Dan. Don’t tell me you did something stupid and cheated on her like her fucking ex.”

“I never cheated. I haven’t touched another woman.” The thought made him sick. “I’m not that asshole. You know I’m not.”

“I don’t mean to be funny Dan. She lived beside me for nearly five years. She’s my friend. And now her apartment is for rent, your shit is here, and she’s told us all goodbye and to give messages to the people she loves. So you might not have cheated on her, but you broke her. It took us four years to help Em feel like herself again and put her pieces back together and you broke her.” Blake was opening another envelope mixed in with the post on his coffee table that Em had left in as he spoke, eyes widening slightly. Before he could get the words out Michael had to.

“You’re telling your family, by the way.” His voice was solid, a way Dan had never heard before. “She asked me to tell them but I can’t. I can’t break those kids hearts and tell them their auntie Emmy loves them forever but she can’t see them again. I can’t tell your sister that she’s lost a sister, and I can’t tell your parents that you ran off the woman they want you to marry. That the woman your mum teaches family recipes to had to leave, because you fucked up that much. You know she’s their second daughter, right? Even before whatever the fuck you’ve been doing started they adored her. From Monaco. Em’s lost the only decent mother she’s ever had because of you. She didn’t want to make us choose but if she was here right now I’d choose her over you any day.”

“If you think she doesn’t love you, read this.” Blake held out a package of papers, Dan skimming them.

Everyone in his line of work was familiar with leaving a will behind. The fucking academies basically demanded it at this point. He’d put Emmy on his own medical power of attorney form after Spa, told her what he was leaving her when she was ready for that conversation after Roman nearly died in Bahrain.

But Emma wasn't racing cars every weekend, so she didn't need the papers she signed. She didn't need to leave a will behind, but his name was there to make decisions for Em. She’d left him specific things. The cold fear snaked up his spine, tightening around his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

“She wouldn’t. She won’t do anything stupid. It’s Em, she wouldn’t.” The words came out as a rush but certain. She wouldn’t hurt herself. God, he couldn’t live with himself if she did.

“It’s probably just a precaution. But Jesus Christ, Dan. She’s gone. We have no idea where she is, we don’t even know what country she’s in. We don’t know what kind of head start she has and with the amount of frequent flier miles she has she could be anywhere. We can probably cross off here and Australia, but that doesn’t take away much.”

“I need to leave.” Dan turned to see Michael pick up his bag. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk. I’ll email you workout plans. She’s my fucking sister, Dan. She’s my little sister and I trusted you knew what you were doing with her. She said goodbye to me and I didn’t even know. You… I can’t look at you right now. I’m this close to quitting too because I don’t know you anymore. The Dan I grew up with? He would have said something. He wouldn’t make the woman he kept saying he was going to make his wife run away. He wouldn’t make her feel unloved. Just work out what you’re going to do. I’ll be on the plane to Miami but I don’t know if I’ll see you before then.” Dan watched as his oldest friend, the man he’d known since primary school, who’d supported him through thick and thin, walked out of the apartment into the London night.

“She’s gone. She’s really gone and she’s not coming back. I… I have to find her, Blake. I can’t do this without her.”

“You need to work out what you’re doing. You need to tell your family she’s gone. You need to do your job. We’re all hurting right now and yeah your heart is breaking. But its my job to do tough love and tell you that you need to work first and then think about her.” He stared at Blake in shock. “I’m pissed. But work first. Em somehow managed to take everything off my plate when she was leaving, because she didn’t want to make things hard on me. Go home, Dan. I have to call Chloe Stroll and tell her Em’s not coming back.”

“Not yet. Please. Let me f—“

“I’m telling her. You can hide it from the media, from your family, whatever. Chloe is Em’s best friend outside us. Do you really think she hasn’t tried calling Em already? Really?” Dan nodded once. “Go home. Your place, not the empty apartment next door you called home. Go home and get your shit together. Em would kill you if you fucked up a race over her.”

Dan got an Uber on his phone, taking his bags downstairs along with his letter from Em. He slipped the moon ring onto his little finger, settling it just above the sun. He needed her back. He just didn’t know how to find her.

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

818 notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 1 year

Note

Hiii I Hope it’s alright if I also ask you about your mafia stucky series? If not please ignore me 🥺

Steve and Bucky seems always so caring but did they ever said something that wasn’t nice or even regret saying (to her or one of them) ?

I don’t think it would happen often, they are always so cautious around you, never bringing home their stresses from work or if they were frustrated, they could take it out on each other, but never on you.

But sometimes, in your idle pondering with your daily tasks, you hadn’t noticed the clenched jaw, fast breathing in a tense state if something had agitated them.

This morning, Steve was sitting at his laptop at the kitchen island, typing furiously to the emails that didn’t seem to stop bombarding him. It was supposed to be his day off and yet these assholes were still asking him stupid questions. Bucky had offered from where he stood leaning against the wall on his phone, to answer them for Steve but he was waved off, it was just easier if Steve got on with it.

So when you came down to make breakfast, looking through the empty cupboards, you were casually asking questions to both of your boyfriends without a second thought. “What do you want for breakfast? I can cook something or order in? What would you prefer? Steve?” you ask, looking over your shoulder at him

“What?” he asks, a frown etched deep on his face, as he didn’t look away from the screen.

“I was just wondering what you wanted for breakfast, there's cereal, or I can go to the shop and cook you something nice-”

“I don’t fucking know! I can’t think right now. Do whatever you want”, he snaps, not looking away from the screen, so pent in his work that he hadn’t realised just who he was speaking to.

Bucky’s head snapped up at his tone, even though Steve was his boss and best friend, there was no way he was letting him speak to you like that as he shouted, “Hey! Don’t fucking talk to her like that”.

It was Steve’s turn to look up, his eyes quickly looking at Bucky and then to you, seeing you staring at him with wide eyes, mouth open from your innocent questioning, shoulders dropped in shame.

“Shit baby”, Steve ran his hand angrily through his hair, never meaning to talk to you in that way, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean that”, Steve stood from his stool, walking towards you but stopping a couple of steps away, his entire body sagging in defeat, blue eyes searching your face, begging for forgiveness.

You’re looking at your feet now, biting your lip as anxiety tumbled through your stomach, you knew he didn’t mean to snap at you but either way, it still hurt all the same. “It’s alright”, you mumble, swallowing harshly the lump in your throat, turning around to pretend to look through the cupboards for breakfast so you could hide your face from him.

Steve sighed, wiping a hand over his face, feeling like shit, risking a glance as Bucky who was still looking like he was going to walk over and punch him but was holding back, instead shaking his head instead, and nodding towards you, telling Steve to hurry up and make it up to you.

Steve stepped up behind you fully, arms coming around to grasp your wrists and pulling them to the front of your body so he could wrap you in a tight hug, his face nuzzling into your neck. “It’s not alright, I’m sorry my love, I didn’t mean to snap at you, I’d never fucking mean to talk like that to you. I’m so sorry”.

You closed your eyes and leaned into his warmth, taking a second before resting your head back against his shoulder, giving him more room to kiss against your neck. You were a sensitive person, all three of you knew that so it didn’t take much to upset you but it also meant that you forgave even quicker, turning your head to kiss his cheek, “It’s ok Steve, I know work has been bad today. I forgive you”. Turning more in his arms, your fingers stroked across his stubble, pulling him down for a peck before hugging him tightly, arms around his neck.

He sighed into the embrace and you could tell he needed it in more than one day, letting the two of you sway on the spot for a minute before he pulled away, kissing your temple. “Let me make you breakfast, I’m sure I can find something here to make you”, he offered, looking into the open cupboard and seeing the bare minimum.

Bucky walked over to the laptop behind the two of you, “Take her out and apologise to her properly, I’ll answer these, have the day together”.

Steve sighed again but with a relieved tone, “Thanks Buck”.

So I would say, it was rare that the boys did anything to upset you or say the wrong thing but when they did, the boys were swift to call the other out with your best interests as their priority.

#mafia au #mafia steve rogers #mafia bucky #mafia bucky barnes #steve rogers #bucky #bucky barnes #steve rogers drabble #stucky mafia au #stucky x reader #stucky drabb;e #bucky drabble #drabble*#mine*#asks*#anon

588 notes · View notes

caramelcleopatraa · 3 months

Text

v. SUIT & TIE

word count : 1500~

x : finally fucking got it done. stay tuned for more info about S&T! I'm very excited that it's picking up! ofc, excuse any mistakes you see

content: Mafia!Roman Reigns x Designer!Reader, suggestive themes

You finally made it home and survived the insufferable teasing from your friends. You truly loved your job and the joy that your products gave people, but you forgot how much of a toll your job had on you until you stepped into your home. You let out a heavy sigh and drug yourself across your living room to your room. You put your purse down on the nightstand and immediately changed into a crop tank top and some short shorts. You were about to sit on your bed when you saw a white slip of paper poking out of your purse that you didn’t notice until now. Thoughts ran through your mind of all the people that you ran into today and who could’ve gone near your purse. The entire time that you were working, it was in the faculty room.

Usually, you would say that situations like this is “white people shit”, until a thought crosses your mind. ‘Could it be someone trying to order something? Or maybe they’re setting me up in a trap?’

‘Or maybe it’s Roman..’

You slowly took the slip of paper and unfolded it, and you immediately got your answer.

‘xxx-xxx-xxxx

i’m interested to see how the CEO acts outside of work’

You relax and sit on your bed, pulling out your laptop to manage some electronic papers and answer emails. ’Should I call him?’ You were never the type to get attached to people, but he was so enticing. He sure as hell doesn't just give his phone number out to anyone. He’s always busy, always has matters to take care of. So of course he’s not going to call some random girl that he ate out in a private dressing room. Maybe he just got you caught up.. and he wanted to have fun. Maybe it’s not as deep as you think it is. But you still can’t hold back that urge to call him. You unconsciously squeeze your thighs together and fumble through your purse to find your phone. Eagerly, you punched in the numbers and laid your phone on the bed, putting it on speaker. It rang a couple of times before you heard commotion on the other side of the line.

“Hello?”

“So, you slip a note in my purse with your number in it, and then don’t know I'm calling you?” Your joke amuses him as he chuckles in response. “Well you’re not the only one calling my phone, mama.” That was a name you could get used to.

“What’s with all of the commotion in the back?” He takes a minute to respond to the question , before two loud gunshots are fired. “Just taking care of some roaches,” Roman says smugly. You hear him tell someone goodbye and all the commotion is no longer present. It’s just you and him.

“How was work?” Roman asks. “Stressful. But I can't complain. I love what I do.” You were working yourself overtime. Pushing yourself to the limit. You didn’t like leaving your work up to someone else to finish. When it came to your business, you were never the lazy type. “Would you like me to help you release some stress?” You stop typing momentarily to process what he said.

“Technically, you already did this morning, so I owe you,” you flirted back, fantasizing about what could happen the next time you guys see each other. “Appreciate the offer, but you don’t owe me. I’ll ease your mind whenever you need me to.”

Saying that your heart fluttered was an understatement. Ever since you met him, he's made you do nothing but smile. “For you to be a mafia boss, you're such a gentleman.”

“I can’t treat women with respect?” Roman questions. “No, it’s just a rare combo from someone of your stature”

“I bet the hoes must love you.” You nestle under the covers and turn your tv on. You hear Roman scoff on the other side of the line. “I don't chase hoes, I let them chase me.” ‘This cocky motherfucker’

“So what is De’arra to you? Cause it seems like she's walking alongside you.” You didn't realize that the sentence would make you sound possessive or possibly jealous, but you were genuinely curious. “Is that jealousy I hear?” Jealous? You? Never in your life have you ever been the jealous type over a man. You’re the type that gets even. “Don't try me like that. I can’t ask a question?”

“It’s ok to be jealous, sweetheart,” Roman teases. Once again, you could hear his smirk in his tone. Were you sounding jealous? You weren't… Right? “Imma hang the phone up on you.” Your response makes Roman laugh. His rich voice makes you shiver, sending tingles down your body. “Relax, Relax, I'm joking. I told you this morning that De’arra just around me for my money. She keeps trying to lure me into her bed, and she fails everytime. Does that make you feel better?” Honestly it did, you felt a lot better. “I don’t mess with taken men.”

“Lucky for you, I ain’t taken” His confident tone eased your mind of any lingering thought of De’arra, but you still wanted to know who she was. “So what's her deal? This is the first time I'm hearing about her, and I know a lot of people.”

“She’s a part of the Washington family and they're stationed in Cali. Her father retired down here in Florida, and tried to contact me about business, but I wouldn't budge. Then, he sent his daughter down to one of my warehouses and she’s been attached to me ever since.” This sounded like a man trying to use his daughter to lure someone in to potentially weakening their power. It's a cheap trick, but some people are dumb enough to fall for things like this. “Sounds like he’s using his daughter to get close to you.” A strained sigh could be heard on the other side of the line. “I'm not paying attention to her. I already guessed she was on some shady shit when I found out she was a Washington.”

“Just be careful, you don't know what she’s gonna do or what she's up to.”

“Aww, look at you all worried about me.” You groaned at his teasing. “You don’t have to worry your pretty little head about anything, I can take care of this. And if I need some help, you’ll be the first person I call.” You couldn't help but laugh at his teasing demeanor once more. Both of you knew that he could take care of business on his own, but it amused him all the more at how you looked out for him. “I gotta go, I have a meeting in 5.”

“Ok, talk to you later.” He hung up the phone after your sentence and you quickly grabbed it to open the phone app again. You typed in a series of numbers that you knew all too well, the phone number to the Hayes residence. If you didn't have the information on something, you were sure that they had it. The phone rings for a while until a man picks up the phone.

“Yo.”

“Hey Carmelo, is Mercedes home?”

“Yeah, she’s right next to me, hold on.” You wait a couple of seconds until another voice answers the phone, but this time it’s a woman. “Ms. Semele?”

“Hey Mercedes, I hope I'm not bothering you.” You adjusted yourself to sit up comfortably in your bed, while still holding the phone in your hand. “You mind doing a background check for me?” Mercedes chuckles darkly and replies, “It's gonna cost ya.”

“Girl you know I got the funds, dont play with me.” Mercedes laughs loudly this time. Money talk was her favorite thing, and she did anything for the money. “Alright, who am I looking at?” “De’arra Washington.”

“Alright, got it, I'll call you around 10 in the morning tomorrow and let you know what I find.” You typed in the desired amount of money she wanted and typed in her address so that the money could be sent straight to her door in cash. “Alright talk to you later.”

You laid back down on your back and stared at the ceiling recapping the entire day in your head. You still can't wrap your head around De’arra though. It's strange that she came into your shop just as someone is threatening the Anoa’i territory. You hate having feelings like this, and they never ended up good. You knew you had to be careful around her, cause she doesn't seem like she’s here to just look pretty. You felt it, you knew it. It goes much deeper than that.

🏷️ tags :) @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41

Welcome to your new addiction

#roman reigns #carmenreigns #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x chubby reader #roman reigns x you #[ s & t ]#[ ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚✧･ﾟ: * the bankk ✧･ﾟ:* ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ ]

107 notes · View notes

smok3r7 · 24 days

Text

They Always Come Back

Aaron Hotchner x f!reader

Explicit, 18+

Butterflies & Broken Glass

Main Masterlist & Series Masterlist - My AO3

Summary: You and Aaron met in college, Criminology Major, funny enough. Throughout your five years at George Washington College, you and Hotchner had this on and off again relationship; it was all fun until you started to realize that you loved him. After graduation the two of you cut ties and left it as dumb college love, going your separate ways. After a decade you finally land your dream job, a seat at the BAU; however when you notice the name copied on the email, you can’t believe your eyes.

Chapter Summary: Moving on isn’t always the easiest and honestly takes a long time. But does it ever get better when old wounds get ripped open?

Word count: 3k

—

“So,” your mom starts “Are you ready to talk ‘bout, you know, it?”

The sound of her knife hitting the cutting board after slicing through a carrot pierces your ears. You don’t answer her, you continue to peel the batch of potatoes and carrots that sit in this metal strainer under a running tap. She also says nothing and continues to chop the vegetables you pass to her as if you’re on an assembly line.

You’re not sure if you are, but you’ve avoided it as long as you could. It’s weird that it feels like years ago and, simultaneously, feels like hours ago. But it’s been three months, going on four next week. The reality of the break up, however, hit you the second week you came home, and it was brutal.

And since then, you haven’t been the same.

Bella and Kelly have tried everything to help you; consistent phone calls from Kels since she’s still in DC, and Bella coming over whenever she can - which is all the time. But you just can’t shake the utter pain and heartbreak that pours out of your skin, and the only person who can help you through this, is your mom.

She’s been through most, if not all, of the hardest and toughest things you’ve been dealt with. She’s your real ride or die bestie. So even though you're not ready to discuss it, evidently you have to - for your own sake. If you’re going to move on with your life, move on from Aaron Hotchner, you have to talk about it.

“Not much to talk about, really.” You lie one more time. You’re not sure why you do - you chalk it up to your subconscious mind not being ready to properly handle this or that your mom will drop it.

The sound of your moms chopping stops and you hear her sigh. She’s not gonna leave it alone. The cold water flows through your fingers, causing them to go numb and start to sting when there are no vegetables left to rinse. So you know you’re stuck listening to what she has to say, so you figure you might as well just take it.

“Well, I’m tired of you sittin’ on your ass ‘n mopin’ around all fuckin’ day for the past few months. That’s not the daughter I raised.” By the loudness of her words you can tell she’s now facing you, but you’re too afraid to turn around. Too embarrassed. Too ashamed of yourself.

She barks your name and orders you to turn the water off and look at her, which you do, but not before you grab a sheet of paper towel to dry your stinging hands. You do this very slowly, to the point where you feel like it’s in slow motion. You know she’s not going to do anything but just try to understand where your head is at, and maybe scold you just a bit because of your actions - or lack of, for that matter - but you know she means well and she just wants to make sure her little girl is okay.

Looking into her eyes, you break. The bubble in your throat finally bursts. As you lunge forward, your moms arms open and welcome you with love and affection as she wraps her arms tightly around your shoulders.

You cry and cry, until no tears are left.

—

Your senses are overwhelmed; the smells of plants and people from the park overpower you, the sight of the masses of people panics you just a little, and the sound of music playing in one ear and screams of small children on the playground in the other keeps you alert. Your heart feels like it’s going to jump out of your chest, while your lungs work overtime to keep you going - the cool morning weather making it harder to catch your breath.

The white gazebo is now within sight as you jog past the large playground that’s packed with children of all ages with their families. Saturdays during the summer are the busiest days at Richmond park, so you always take that into account when you go on your daily run.

But this morning is different. Instead of going to your usual civil court office, like you have for the past eleven years, you’re waiting on an important email from Erin Strauss. The section chief of the BAU in Quantico, the very job you’ve been working so hard for. Your second interview was three days ago and it went pretty well considering how judgmental and difficult Strauss was.

You honestly weren’t sure if you were going to get the job because Strauss was picking apart every tiny thing about you; where and how you grew up, what college you attended, what’s so important about joining the BAU, and whether you can hold your own when it comes to a career with something like the FBI. You felt like you were being stabbed with each one of her questions, but you figured that she’s just like that, with a job requiring a brutal sort of honesty.

Catching your breath, you raise your arms above your head and fold them over so the air can flow freely through your body. Standing on the steps of the gazebo, you step in a small circle to get a bearing on your surroundings, making sure to note anything that seems out of the ordinary. Too many women have been getting assaulted or mugged recently, so you’re always scanning your environment. To add another element of security, you own a black 9mm, which is currently in your car in the parking lot just a few feet away. You have your carry permit, but it doesn’t do much good when you’re in leggings and a sports bra.

Your mom was extremely concerned about you living by yourself and forty-five miles away from her, so she and Anthony convinced you to go to the gun range to become familiar. Then, after about four months of that, you decided you felt comfortable and educated enough to own a gun, for your safety.

While doing one last spin, you lower your arms and reach for your phone in your side pocket. Your breathing is now steady and regulated, so you can focus more on yourself and your surroundings.

Pausing your music and taking out your one earbud, you notice an email from Strauss and you instantly feel proud. You really did it, you really made it to your dream job. It felt almost impossible; after eleven years, you were about to give up hope about this job. But your inner child put up a huge fight against it and ultimately won. There was no way in hell that you would give up on this dream of yours. It was going to happen one way or another.

You open the email as you start walking to your car, but before you can read past the names copied in the email, you freeze.

Your stomach drops to the cement below your sneakers, your heart rate increases rapidly, and your mind somehow is silent but screaming at the same time. There’s no way this is possible, you never thought this would happen.

Hotchner, Aaron

—

“You haven’t even seen him since graduation right?”

“Kels…yes! I never thought I’d ever see him again, let alone have to work with him, under him even!”

“Under him, hehe,” Bella murmurs to herself into her glass of wine as she takes a sip.

You glance to your right and she diverts her eyes to her feet, away from your judgy eyes.

Immediately after you received the email and got back into your car to head back to your house, you called the girls over for a wine and bitch night. Something the three of you started once Kelly ended things with Jason six years ago and moved five minutes away from you and Bella, who lives only four houses apart.

Kelly has her own law firm and has done extremely well for herself. However, you do feel bad about how Jason and her ended things. Long story short, she caught him bringing random women back to their home constantly. But what makes it even worse is they have a seven year old daughter. A newborn at the time she kicked him out and never wanted to see him again, Jason hasn’t seen his daughter since then either.

You have no idea how Kelly is still able to be this bubbly person, but she is. You and Bella help Kelly whenever she needs it, especially when it comes to her daughter Lilly; babysitting, picking up or dropping off from school, picking up dinner some nights, and anything else.

You’ll be damned if anything else happens to Kelly and Lilly, they are least deserving of any treatment like that from Jason.

“So, have you replied to her email?” Bella questions as she takes a bite of stringy pizza, wiping the corners of her mouth after.

“She told me I didn’t have to. Just to make sure I read it before I go in on Wednesday, which I thought was a weird day to start but what do I know?”

“So, like… how are you feelin’ about all this?” Bella chimes in again, but with a tone that lets you know she is trying to be sincere.

Your right hand instinctively raises to your necklace and you start to fidget with it … the heart necklace from Aaron. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. You really don’t know how to feel about this, especially when you erased him from your memory almost completely so you could figure out how to move on.

After so long, the thought of Aaron became less and less, even though you still wear the one piece of jewelry from him. It’s been the one thing that you haven’t been able to let go of and you haven’t had a reason to understand why, but now it almost seems like this was meant to happen. The universe never wanted you to forget about him, but you also wonder if he’s ever stopped thinking about you.

He had to have noticed your name, just like you did his. But what does that mean? You wonder if he had any say in hiring you or if this is all Strauss’s work, because those two things have very different meanings behind them and those two people have very different motives.

“Do you think you’ll be okay?” Bella sits up and rests her hand on your bare thigh, shaking you back to reality.

You raise your eyes to her and give the best fake smile you can show and lightly nod your head, I’m gonna try.

—

You have an excellent first day baby, call me when you’re home. Love you!

Standing in the elevator, you read your moms text message with a warm smile. You didn't tell her about Aaron being your boss, that’ll be a deep conversation for later.

Thank you, love you mama!

The elevator dings, stops and the metal door slides open before a gorgeous, black haired woman walks in, and you both give a slight smile to each other as you move to give her some room. She goes to press the number six, for the BAU, but she notices you already have it pressed.

“Oh, you must be the new girl that Hotch was telling everyone about,” she confidently tells you. “Emily Prentiss.” She reaches her hand out, which you confidently take and introduce yourself to her.

So he does remember me…what did he tell them?

“Welcome to the world of horrible things people are capable of, you’ll come to learn a lot!” She shakes her head slightly, “But it seems like you can stomach it, I mean, you made it into the BAU which is huge in itself.”

The same time you chuckle, the metal doors open again and you’re met with a small hallway with glass doors that have the Seal of the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s logo on them. It’s busy with agents walking from one hallway to the other, all on a mission (or at least that’s what it looks like). You can finally release that breath that’s been sitting in your chest since you woke up this morning.

“Well, let’s go introduce you to the team,” Emily announces as she slightly nudges your lower back, “I got you, girl, don’t worry.”

Turning your body to the side so she can lead the way, you smile, “Thank you.”

Now, past the glass doors, you’re met with an open layout office with desks together to make squares. Emily walks past the first couple and heads to the next set, where a group of four gather around one’s desk. Your nerves build just a little bit, but you shove them down for your first impressions. You’re not going to allow Aaron the satisfaction of knowing he’s messing with your head.

“Listen up, kids!” Emily announces, catching everyone’s attention but you see how all their eyes move to you and then back to Emily. She steps to the side, almost showcasing you off to them as she tells them your name and that you’re officially joining the team.

With your leather brown purse hanging from your shoulder, a large confident smile comes across your face as you wave to them with your right hand, hi guys!

“I was just asking J.J when you were coming in, I’m Penelope Garcia!” This vibrant colored blonde reaches her bejeweled wrist out to greet you, which you happily take.

“My official first day!” You cheer, “So excited to be a part of your team!”

Over the next ten minutes you learn a whole lot about the team. And you overall, love them all already. They’re all just full of character and personality, which you’re always looking for in a work environment.

J.J, the original liaison turned official Supervisory Special Agent and mom of two healthy boys. Spencer Reid, the impossibly smart guy, you have no clue that anyone could be as smart as him. Derek Morgan, the player and muscle of the team for sure, this man is flirtatious but in a fun way - he’s not rude or arrogant in the slightest. David Rossi, one of the original FBI agents and the old Italian man that reminds you a lot of what your mom described of her grandfather. Penelope Garcia, the technical genius and the brightest and most animated woman you have ever seen. Emily Prentiss, the pure badass and smartass of the team, is almost a mixture of the team all around.

Jokes and history are being shared amongst everyone, but there’s a huge elephant in the room. Even with the laughs from the team, the tension is so thick it could be cut with a knife. Where is he?

“Dad’s here!”

You hear Derek whisper, trying to not make a scene…which doesn’t work because everyone turns their head. Everyone except you. You’re caught staring at J.J, who sits in her office chair with her blonde eyebrows raised, and her lips purse as she slowly spins to face her desk.

Morning.

There it is. The voice you’ve ached to be able to hear again, but will deny if ever asked. From the one and only man you’ve ever longed for and have loved since you met him over a lifetime ago. The man you’ve lost sleep over from just wishing you could redo it all over so you and him didn’t go separate ways. The voice that distracts you from work when you’re alone in your office and you’re not sure why. The memories of you and him on date nights flourish your brain when you’re with friends, even though you thought you and him were done completely. The voice you thought you had erased from your memory, but just like that, the memories and feelings come right back like you’re in college again.

Aaron.

Just like that, he stops dead in his tracks. His back now to you about a desk away, his broad shoulders tense under his black suit. You watch the way his back stiffens and he takes a deep breath in and stands for a moment, but he doesn’t turn around. You’re not sure why you said his name just now, it’s almost scary how natural his name spewed out of your mouth. There was just no way that you couldn’t not say anything to him right now, it just didn’t seem right.

My office is all he says with the most monotone voice you have ever heard from him. You’re almost speechless, almost. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself as you push your tongue into the side of your left cheek - what in the fuck? If he’s going to make this into a thing that it doesn’t need to be, you’re going to lose your shit because you know he can be an adult when it’s needed.

“Uh oh, trouble in paradise…” Derek mumbles with a smile that goes from ear to ear. Garcia hits his arm and tells him to shut up, but you can’t help but laugh at him.

“Little do you know, pretty boy.” You crack back at him with a wink as you start your way towards the small set of steps that lead to his office. A small giggle fest starts behind you and you can’t help but feel incredible, you’re fitting in so well already and you’re honestly not even worried about what Aaron will do or say.

You already know this job is going to be tough.

But so worth it.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #ssa aaron hotchner #criminal minds aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader

69 notes · View notes