#my laptop crashed THREE TIMES while i worked on this

[sysig]

I’ll be fine, I just have to get it all out of my system (Patreon)

[vagabond-umlaut]

two shots of ristretto, please!

One must have heard of espresso, but ristretto? No?

Well, translated to 'restricted' in Italian, ristretto is another version of espresso, but of a sweeter and more intense quality than the latter— though, you reckon, there's no entity in this world, sweeter and more intense than that white-haired, blue-eyed enigma-turned-menace of yours.

▸ yakuza heir! gojo satoru x uni classmate! fem! reader; TIMESKIP; dad! gojo satoru x mom! reader; FLUFF AND HUMOR GALORE; popularising the headcanon that gojo is so terrifyingly gojo for everyone, except his crush; the said crush's smart & not dense, for the first time in my stories; there is yakuza so there's a gun and there's a tiny bit of violence; brief appearance of utahime, shoko, suguru & nanami; POST-TIMESKIP: the most adorable twins ever, sachiko and sachiro, are back, with tons and tons of fluff!!!!!

▸ belongs to the series 'tang!' — same universe as the work 'every rose and its 'twin prickles'' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

▸ i know i described the reader to be smart and stuff, but the thing is: she is smart, of sorts, that is. and the post-timeskip portion is tooth-rottingly fluffy but not for satoru; sachiko & sachiro will never let their papa get some loving from their dearest mama... AND this is 4.4k wc long— idk how i wrote so freaking much! anyways, whatever it is–

▸ i don't own the characters, the image or the divider used. please don't plagiarize or translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

Gojo Satoru was born with three things.  

His name. 

His looks.  

And, of course– the baggage certain to tag along with the above two. 

Cup of coffee languishing in the frost of your ignorance, you lock gaze, the first time, with the famous infamous scion of the Gojo’s, an awfully stormy morning at the café your friend works at.  

Said friend looks halfway on the path to sweet, sweet dreams, resting her head on folded arms on your table — smiling, you tuck a wayward strand of hair behind the shell of her ear, and return to your sly spying on the group seated couple of feet away. You think you see Gojo look at you yet another time — it must be an error of your eye, you reckon, given how he's giving a sharp grin to the man across from him, in the very next instant.  

Yeah, that's what it is. No one can possibly switch from shooting that level of thoughtful gaze to that level of feral grin in that short span of time. Yeah, it must have been a mistake of your silly eye.  

Anyways, whatever it is, to say you hate drawing attention to yourself will be the greatest understatement of the century— so you decide to look away for a beat, to avoid even the faintest hint of suspicion, eyes going back to the chemical reactions strewn across the mess you call notes— only to snap back to the white-haired boy, widening in horror from the click! then the scene crashing onto your brain.  

Gojo chuckles, eyes flitting from the gun aimed at the space between his eyebrows to the man holding it. "Aww," you register him croon, that self-sabotaging dumbass, "resorting to such cheap violence so quickly, Zenin-san? Grew tired of a civil conversation already? Tsk. What a pity." 

Another time and you think you'll consider this precise moment to be when you wake your friend up and slowly sneak away into the kitchen then out, via the back door. Another day and you know you'll consider this very second to be when you return your focus to your assignment on carbohydrates, all the while hoping you or your friend won't be cast into a brawl none of you are a part of— 

Too bad it isn't another time or another day, though.  

Biting back a grimace, you shut your laptop and rise from your chair with a loud clatter. 

"Forcing someone isn't really a nice way to make a deal, y'know," you hum, walking over to their table and plopping down onto the free seat next to Gojo, "what is better is to explain the pros and cons to the one opposite to you and try to convince them. Gently. And if that doesn't work, manipulate the hell out of them. But this?" you shoot the metal gun a disappointed glance, shaking your head, "this is a method even I know I shouldn't use to get my rival to agree to something, though I'm not from a criminal background." 

The man– Zenin, you correct yourself; the second largest yakuza clan right after Gojo's family, your memory supplies after a beat – gives a slow look from the weapon to you, a scowl appearing on his features. And barks – voice, a disgusting grating noise to your sleep-deprived self.  

"Who the fuck are you, girl? And why the fuck are you interfering in this?"  

You pause. Okay, this wasn't what you were expecting when you first strolled out here. You were expecting a yell, a scuffle; worst case, the gun aimed at your precious brain. But this? One question about your identity, and the other about your reason for approaching them? You haven't prepared yourself for this! 

Frowning, you cast a glance to your left, only to find the white-haired boy stare at you, staggered, with wide eyes and flushed cheeks; then at your friend who's snoring away like she doesn't give a damn about napping at work; then at the man glowering at you.  

You sigh, rubbing your temples. 

"Who the fuck I am... that's for me to know and for you to find out,” you answer, smirking, before growing serious again as you rush to explain, upon catching a murderous glint in the man’s eyes, “I mean, c'mon, y'all are the yakuza. This should be a piece of cake for you, shouldn’t it?"  

The man's glare only worsens in result; stamping down the apprehension in your mind, you continue, "And as for why the fuck I'm interfering in this—"  

You abruptly fall silent.  

Offering the boy beside you a panicky glance.  

Wondering what the hell you can say in reply. 

Should you say, "I've been listening to you threaten the poor boy for a good thirty minutes now, saying he's gonna face dire consequences, or some shit like that, if he doesn't share the area in the east with the Zenin's or refuses to marry their third daughter— who I'm pretty sure, y'all have made into nothing but a maid, a cook and a broodmare. Poor girl, being spoken of by her own family member to a stranger boy, as if she isn't a human being but something with no life or ambition. But, hey, how you raise your kids is honestly your own problem and I’m not here to drill some lesson into your head– though I guess, folks like you could really use some. Anyways, whatever the fuck it is, I'm here because I JUST CAN'T SEE ANOTHER BEING FORCED TO DO SOMETHING AGAINST THEIR WILL. AND I’M GONNA PROTEST AGAINST IT AS LONG AS I’VE A BREATH LEFT IN MY LUNGS." 

The inner-you tsks at the outer-you.  

You groan inwardly, shifting to the next plan already.  

So, must you say, "Gojo's my classmate, who has been sitting behind me since the first class of the year, and very weird to say, but I have also been finding him here at this coffee shop, every day I visit since that day, sitting at this specific table and scribbling in a notebook for hours at end— and, yeah, way weirder to admit out loud, but I guess I have also formed some kind of attachment to him? 'Cause of which, I feel, I get worried when I see him being actively threatened? And, yes, of course– all the while I totally ignore that he's next in line to a notorious criminal family or the fact that he's never even noticed me once before today." 

Another click! bounces off the walls into your ears, making you draw away from your mind back to the situation at hand. You settle for offering a shrug.  

"Why I'm here is because Gojo is one of my acquaintances and I just can't seem to stand someone being forced to do something against their will." 

Your statement earns a mocking laugh from the man, but before you rush to defend yourself and the fact you spoke the truth, a calloused palm rests on your forearm. Gojo's gaze flits from you to the gun still pointed at him then back to you. You feel a mild tremor in his fingers when they meet your skin. Good heavens, Gojo must be really scared, huh? 

His careful voice reaches you, a far cry from the haughty tone he was employing with the Zenin fellow earlier, "It's best if you leave now. Go take your friend and go away. And don't come back here. At least not until sometime later, yeah? Things are gonna get a hell lot messy and I don't want you to see that." 

For the first time in many days, the buzz of caffeine in your veins weakens, giving way to the thrum of worry you feel at Gojo’s words. Has this bastard already accepted his fate!? Hell no! Not if you can help it!!  

You give his arm a light pat. 

"While I leave you here, all alone, huh?" Shaking your head, you click your tongue. "Nope! Not gonna happen, mister. My parents raised me way better than that. Besides, you might not be knowing me but I've been knowing you for a while now, and despite what everyone says of you being the crown prince, or whatever, in the underworld — I ain't leaving you here, with your life at the mercy of a person who doesn't even have a shred of respect for others' freedom of choice and stuff." 

A noisy yawn sounds in the background, soon followed by a noisier series of snores. Gojo's mouth opens and closes a few times, like a funny fish, before he inquires, voice brimming with disbelief, "You... have noticed me? Since when?" 

You blink, then chuckle. "Of course, I have. Since the first day, if I'm being honest here," you reply, then add as a hasty after-thought, so that he doesn't see you as a weirdo, "I mean, it's tough not to notice you, y'know? Not when you're—" 

A deafening crash interrupts you in the middle of your sentence. You look away from the boy to find the man standing now, face contorted in a mix of fury and desperation while he shifts the gun's muzzle from Gojo to you, then back to Gojo, words leaving him in a harsh yell. 

"THE GIRL NOTICED YOU 'CAUSE YOU'RE THE GOJO SATORU AND YOU'RE HANDSOME AS FUCK. NOW, CAN YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP, BITCH? AND YOU — YOU SICK, SPOILT GOJO BRAT– YOU SAID YOU DON'T HAVE A MINUTE TO SPARE? BUT HERE YOU ARE, CHATTING YOUR LIFE AWAY WITH THAT GIRL—" 

A second deafening crash reverberates through the small shop– and you think you see your life flash before your eyes– but not before the man drops to the ground, most probably unconscious and hopefully not too damaged to lead a functional life, and very earnestly not dead. The gun clatters to the ground beside him. You turn to your classmate, eyes wide. Gojo returns your gaze, unblinking and slack jawed. 

Heart thundering in your ears, you hurry to explain yourself, "I–" 

"You smashed that plate on that guy's head." 

Gojo’s blunt words bring you to a still, making your eyes drift to the fragments of the unlucky glass plate, to the unluckier but-totally-deserved-it Zenin, then back to your classmate. A little more awe on the boy’s face and you think his jaw might hit the floor.  

You nod slowly. 

"Yeah, but as self-defence. I mean, you saw how eccentric that man was acting, right? I had to do something to protect both of us," you explain, looking away from the pair of blue eyes watching you closely, to your friend who still seems to be lost in the land of sleep (how much exactly did she drink last night, huh?) to your grey sneakers, voice growing mumbled with every other syllable you utter.  

"But that doesn't mean you've to feel some sort of debt towards me or anything. I too was kind of at mistake then, I guess... what with me rambling so fucking much when there was a literal gun at your head. I should have acted with more tact then – if I had done so, then maybe this mess could've been avoided. I mean, I've never seen these things before in my life, y'know? Except in TV shows, that is. Yet, this foolish me here thought she could just swoop in and save you like some sort of a hero..." 

Sullen, you trail off, face growing warm from embarrassment whilst your mind devises a plan on how to clear up the mess you created, many thanks to your foolhardy nature, when a muffled laugh reaches you. Gojo's eyes twinkle in enjoyment at the bewildered huff you give him.  

"You did save me like a real hero back then, y'know," he says, grinning a wide grin – before it disappears, making way for a much reserved, much shyer(??) version. A giggly voice within you whispers he looks just as sweet as he did with his cute dimples. The boy continues, carding a hand through his mess of white hair, with a casual glance at the man, "And, as for the mess you keep mentioning, don't you worry. Gun shots create more mess than a plate smashed on the head. And if I can clear that within a minute– this won't even take me a full second, Miss Hero. Don't you worry for this at all. But, yeah, thank you." 

Now, you don't really know if it was the sincerity in his voice as Gojo thanked you, or the fact that he has to clean up the mess you made in the first place, or the stunned feeling so clearly visible in the blue colour of his irises when you admitted to noticing him— whatever it is, you find yourself not wanting to leave anything unsaid between you both.  

Moreover, the realization that lives are considered extremely low-on-value in the world of crime, so much that guns are whipped out at the tiny disagreements or boasts are made on how quick a gunshot mess can be cleared by them — this realization doesn't make things any easier for you. 

Giving the injured man and your napping friend a momentary glance, you return your focus to Gojo, whose eyes are now narrowed at his mobile, and speak those words weighing heavy on your mind right now.  

"I really noticed you since the first day, Gojo," you say. The boy pauses his typing, confused gaze darting to you. "But not just 'cause you're the Gojo Satoru, or 'cause you're really pretty — which you totally are, by the way— but mainly because you had ambled into our first class, on the first day, a magnificent hour late, with your two friends— and my first thought seeing you was, what sort of a fucking entitled brat is this guy, sauntering in as if he owns the entire place." 

A beat passes before the boy erupts into chuckles, though the tense quality of them doesn't escape your notice. Pocketing his mobile, he shoots you a small smile. "And what about noticing me after that? It was just my name and looks which kept your attention hooked onto me, wasn't it?" 

The question– the mumbled way it was asked, more so– sends you into a brief bout of musing silence. Gojo's eyes remain trained on you the entire while — quite contrary to the innumerable adjectives you've heard to describe them: oceanic blue, sparkling blue, mesmerising blue, kind-of-startling blue– you think they're just... blue. So blue, you wonder if there's anything as blue as that gaze peering down at you.  

Perhaps not. 

Lips curving into a smile, you hum, "Yes and no. Yes, 'cause that was the main reason why my eyes kept trailing you whenever we were in the same place. No, 'cause they were the reasons only until I realised what kind of person you are, and how very different you're from what I first thought of you. I got new reasons after those." 

"Mind telling me those new reasons?" 

Gojo's nervous question widens the smile on your face. Casting your friend a glance — goodness, how many drinks did she really have at the party she went to last night — you reply, making your voice light and friendly, "Your personality made me curious. You are old money, with good looks to boot— you're literally the heartthrob of every girl on campus! Still, I've never seen you with anyone from them— never with anyone outside your group of three friends — though, I got to admit, the blond boy looks nothing less than constipated for a week, when he talks to you." 

That last comment draws a chuckle from the white-haired boy. The tightness in his shoulders seems to relax a bit, you note with relief. Face still carrying the same smile as before, you continue speaking.  

"And the second point which made me curious was how different you behave in different places. Your voice rings across the cafeteria every day during lunch yet you stay so quiet here for hours at end. You once said you've never been much of a book person, yet I always see you in this shop, immersed in your notebooks. And– what has struck me the most of all is the way you tend to go out of you way to annoy others – I've been sitting in front of you in class for a good three months now, yet you've never ever irritated me in the slightest. Kind of strange, ain’t it?" 

Stunned silence comes as the answer to your question, what with the addressed classmate of yours, rooted to his spot on the ground, blue eyes as round as the plate you had smashed on the man's head some time ago and the expression on Gojo's face, almost as if you've grown a couple of heads in the while you have been chatting with him.  

Or more like monologuing, now that you think about it.  

This guy is always so chatty with others: he was even then with that gun cocked to take his life — then why the fuck is he so unspeaking right now, eh? 

"Oh God, Satoru, I can't believe your plan of lurking in the places she goes to, to catch her eye, worked out!!" "Are you asking her out right now, bro?" "Can you all please move? It's raining like hell outside and I'm not really keen to get my leather jacket wet, thank you." 

The noisy rumbles of rain and thunder stream in through the opened door, before the latter is closed again, snapping you out of your internal monologue, a bit too sudden and harsh for your liking. Three pairs of eyes regard you with an utmost curiosity — you return them a blink before dragging your eyes away and looking at the boy a good foot away, only to find him resolutely staring at the overhead lights. Two pretty long (and pretty weird) seconds pass before you finally decide to tear your gaze away from him to the rain-soaked glass window of the eatery.  

A face with creased brows and warmed cheeks greets you from your reflection.  

Screwing your eyes tight shut in an attempt to ward off an annoying headache you can feel build up, slowly yet steadily, you let out a sigh.  

Friendship with the Gojo Satoru seems good enough but romance with the Gojo Satoru... that doesn’t seem half-as-good, right? 

Right? 

"Wrong." 

Your son's insistent voice, coupled by the tiny fist he slams down on the table, breaks you out of your reverie and you turn to find Sachiro wearing a frown, tears brimming in his eyes– eyes which move away from his father and sister to you, pinning your drowsy form beneath the weight of their moisture.  

Stifling a weary sigh, you place the menu card back on the table and coo, "Aw, Sachiro! What's wrong, baby? Are Papa and Sachiko saying mean things to you again? Are they still teasing you regarding today's incident?" 

Although, you suppose to yourself, catastrophe might suit what happened today, way more than the word 'incident'— what with the shrieks, cries and yells resounding through your flat in the short time you took to get ready for your Sunday lunch at a restaurant. Rubbing his eyes a little, the little boy scoots closer to you and nods weakly, wrapping his tiny arms round you. Pressing a kiss to the top of his head, you direct a stern look at the two sitting across from you.  

Sipping on the welcome drink, Sachiko just shrugs back at you.  

"I'm not the wrong person here, Mom. He is," your daughter explains, pointing a finger at her brother, then retracting it at your frown. Your husband snickers from beside her. “Yeah, sweetness, it’s Sachiro who’s wrong. Getting confused on when’s your birthday is no small mistake. Besides, our darling little munchkins taunt me the entire time if I ever make a mistake, no? Can’t see why they can’t stand a taste of their own medicine, then.” 

The sobs muffled into the cotton of your dress grow in intensity and misery. Sending her father a vicious stink eye, your daughter moves to observe you and her brother, a cute little frown on her face.  

"Okay, fine," she relents after a short beat, returning the lemonade to the table, "Guess I was a little wrong. Maybe I shouldn't have teased him so much, along with Papa, for messing up the date of your birthday. I also should not have said, he doesn't love you, some time back."  

A very weighted moment passes. The little girl jumps off her seat and reaches your side of the table, tiny arms reaching out to wrap around her brother. It takes a minute, and a small nudge from your side but soon enough, your two kids are hugging each other; Sachiro, a wailing mess, whilst Sachiko, being the older of the twins that she is, keeps saying 'sorry's' and patting his head, the exact same way their father does to them in times of their grave distress — when they throw a tantrum and get a nice long lecture from you, that is.  

Fond smile creeping onto your lips, you tear your gaze away from the two adorable angels of your life to your husband.  

Relieved to find him sans any teasing smile, you receive a gentle look from him, his hand reaching out to interweave his fingers through yours. You let him with a content hum, basking in the simple domestic joy seeping in through the sweetly scented air of the restaurant. A pair of plush lips press to your palm; biting back a giddy giggle, you throw the owner of said luscious lips a meaningful wink.  

Though... you doubt how much of your meaning could be conveyed to him... given how the two of you jerk back from each other a mere instant later, at the loud clearing of a throat from Sachiko and an angry 'Papa! Go away!' from Sachiro.  

Stomping back to her chair and settling into it with some effort and a huff, you watch an extremely pissed shadow form over the little girl's face, worsening as she twists and cranes her neck up to face her father. You really, really think your husband must not chuckle in this way in the face of such a thunderstorm— not when your daughter is shooting daggers with her gaze; and certainly not when your son is shooting that gloating smirk at him.  

Another time and you think you’ll look at that glare and at that smirk, then proceed to be on cloud-nine, realizing your children, despite being xerox copies of their father (both in looks and manners), did inherit certain features from you as well— something which a terribly competitive voice inside your head claims, is a great win— now, however, is decidedly no such time.  

Not when the person you’ve loved for these many years and know, will continue to do so for an eternity, looks one step away from being tormented to death– by none but the two milk-toothed lights of both of your lives.  

You watch Sachiko’s frown deepen, more than should be possible for someone her age, then begin. 

"Papa, I'm sorry but I have to break our deal. Sachiro is right. We two are the strongest duo of twins in the multiverse — we can't let you break our team this way. So, what if my brother makes a mistake? He's a young baby and babies are allowed to make mistakes, aren't they?"  

You wonder if she truly understands she was born a mere six minutes prior than her brother... and not six whole years, as appears to be the case right now. Holding back chuckles, you spare the person, addressed in the ‘not-really-apology' apology, an amused glance, then nod your head solemnly at her words.  

"They are, baby. They so are," you agree in the very next instant, then ask, a genuine inquiring inflection to your tone, "But what deal did Papa make you agree to, baby? Sounds pretty serious to me, to be honest." 

"Oh, it wasn't anything, sweet cheeks," your husband begins with an awfully nervous-sounding chortle; too bad, your daughter is quick to beat him to it. Throwing him a smirk, you can only describe to be devious, she looks back at you and grins. "Two weeks back, Papa found me in the living room, late at night, staring at shooting stars through the windows. And I found him walking away from the kitchen, eating a giant chocolate bar. Papa said you’ll be very mad because we didn’t listen to what you said, so, we should make a deal and become a team to keep this a secret from you." 

"Papa made that deal– only to divide us. So, our strong team can be destroyed and he can easily defeat us and keep you all for himself, Mama," your son chips in, puffy eyes narrowed into a very hard glare. Your daughter agrees vehemently from the opposite side.  

Your eyes drop to the glass of lemonade before you; you try your best to stifle the yawn.  

This fight over your affection has been going on since the time your children turned four or so... and despite them nearing an age of six in few months, no end can be seen in the horizon, to this war raging within your home...  

And as for the matter of Sachiko being awake way past her bedtime? You reckon you can't really do much on this, other than repeating the rules and the reasons behind each one of them– especially of punctuality and an adequate sleep– to her, like you did the last time... though, you think of toning your lecture down a little this time, considering it wasn't a video game but a meteor show she had stayed awake for... besides you too used to be — okay, no, wait, what??? 

Your husband's sheepish grin collides with the incensed glare you aim his way over the table. Letting out a frustrated huff of an exhale, your face turns away from his, choosing to stare at itself in the clean glass windows instead — too, too mad to acknowledge that white-haired, blue-eyed menace of yours, whining apologies with a pitiful gaze.  

You screw your eyes shut and let out a sigh. 

Being married to the yakuza king, Gojo Satoru, is a story, you deem, it couldn’t have been better, but being married to the sweet fiend, Gojo Satoru?  

Oh, sweet– no, strike that, you fucking hate that word—  

Oh, sour heavens above.  

That's a different story altogether. 

▸ if you've reached this point and still love me and/or my writing, istg I LOVE YOU SO FUCKING MUCH. writing something inspired by one's self-ship is so satisfying but so difficult, ngl. A BIG TYYY TO YOU WHO IS READING THIS LINE RN AFTER READING THIS MONSTROSITY OF A ONESHOT *sniffles*

▸ masterlist

[callmewrinkles3]

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: emmy@.ric3.com

To: blake@.ric3.com

Dear Blake,

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

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

Kind regards,

Emma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t wait. Who’re you here with?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That sounds perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I got you something.”

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

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

“Yeah! She’s always pretty.”

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Back to the hotel?”

“You read my mind.”

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

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

“Night, Dan.”

“But I thought…”

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

“I thought we’d be sharing a room.”

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

“Not particularly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’d left her alone. Again. He hadn’t even touched her but he’d slept in her bed and she never thought Dan could be so cruel. She never thought he’d leave her with the barest hint of his scent, that if she hadn’t been awake she wouldn’t have known he was there. The ache spread through her chest and she tried to quiet her sobs but it hurt. It hurt so, so badly.

A cold shower soothed her puffy face, getting rid of some of the usual redness while makeup did the rest. She was dressed in her usual race day gear of shorts, vans, a McLaren polo, and a Dan hat on her head by the time there was a knock on her door, Michael standing there.

“Hey, I’m heading in with Dan and Blake now. He said you’re going in with his family in an hour?” Another cut in her heart. More space between them. But she schooled her face into a smile, hoping Michael would believe everything was fine.

“Yeah. I said I wanted as much time with the kids as possible, it’s fine.  See you there?”

“See you there.”

Michael was a couple of metres away from her when she stepped into the hall, grabbing her room key from the slot just inside the door.

“Michael?” He turned and she half jogged, pulling him into a tight hug.

“What’s this for?”

“Haven’t seen you as much. You know you’re my brother, right? How lucky I am to have you as my family?”

“You’re the most annoying little sister Ems, but you’re my little sister. I’ve missed having you around.”

“Miss you too.”

She watched him walk away as step one of her goodbyes was done. The next was to go to breakfast with everyone and pretend that things were normal for the next few hours until the race was over. She could do it. She had to.

Breakfast with the extended Ricciardo clan was fun, Isabella still clinging to her and Isaac insisting on sitting beside her. She soaked up every moment she got with them, walking out to the car Dan had arranged holding Isabella on her hip.

“That’ll be you in a few years,” Michelle commented as Em struggled with the car seat buckle before getting it right. “The mother, not the cool aunt. We can swap places.”

Another stab to her already mangled heart. “I dunno. Wait and see, but I’m not sure that’s on the cards any time soon.” Considering the only man she wanted to have a child with didn’t want to be with her, it was a no.

You’ll be a good mother, Em. Plus you’ll have loads of family around.” She wanted to scream that she was leaving her family behind for good this afternoon but instead she just smiled tightly. It was too close to home. She couldn’t keep this conversation going. It hurt.

The race matched her mood. The strategy wasn’t good, the car was a tractor, and the oblique team orders to not let Dan try overtake Lando made her want to scream. The team points would be the same, but no. Not for his home race even. The crowd were amazing and let out loud cheers every time the orange car made its way around the circuit, but it wasn’t enough and Em knew it. It hurt. Her last time at a Grand Prix, her last time cheering for the man she was so deeply in love with, and the team and car had let him down again.

The plan was already to delay debrief till Monday so Dan got to spend time with his family, and Em decided to head to the airport nearly immediately. She couldn’t stay any longer. She couldn’t deal with any more hints from Michelle about a niece or nephew in the future, couldn’t listen to Grace or Joe talking about how much they’d missed her. She couldn’t spend more time with Blake and Michael without wanting to break down and tell them that they had changed her life and she wouldn’t make them choose between her and Dan.

Because that was what it came down to. She was the last one in this group that was all united by their love of Daniel Ricciardo. She was the one who loved him so deeply it hurt, the one who loved every single member of the group to the moon and to Saturn. And she loved them so much she couldn’t bear to have them walk away from her. Because that was what would happen.

Her own blood family didn’t choose her. They saw her as a disgrace, as a failure because she was thirty one years old, unmarried and without kids. They didn’t realise that she was the one who kept Dan on schedule, who organised sponsor events and filtered out the crap he and Blake didn’t need to know about. She stopped the balls from falling out of the sky. Because she was just an assistant.

And if the people who gave birth to her wouldn’t choose her, she knew the family she’d built wouldn’t either. She was never the one who was chosen, and she didn’t blame them. She was just Emma. Danny was Dan. She knew who she’d pick if given a quarter of a chance.

She’d just finished packing when the adjoining door opened, Dan walking in already speaking but stopping when he saw the case by the door, her carry on full with the edge of the orange poster getting folded in.

“Where are you going?” His tone was accusatory and she steeled herself for the argument.

“Home.”

“Emmy…”

“Don’t Emmy me, Daniel! You know I have to go back for the anniversary.” She turned to look at him, watching as confusion turned to anger.

“And I also know that’s bullshit. I’ve known you for how many years, Em? You’ve visited your parents twice. Michael was with you one of those times, the visit lasted twenty minutes and even he didn’t have anything nice to say about it. Michael. Who has a good thing to say about almost everyone. So tell me the truth, why are you leaving now? Why not get on the flight with us tomorrow?”

“Because I have to go back.”

“Don’t lie to me Em!” He raised his voice and Em gave as good as she got, staring back at him.

“You want the truth, Dan? All of it?”

“Yes! That’s all I want, it’s all I’ve ever wanted with you.”

She took a deep breath, staring into his brown eyes for the last time, soaking in that even so angry he was so beautiful. She’d had the privilege of sleeping with him for nearly four years, of loving him for three. Whoever got to do that next would be so incredibly lucky.

“You left me alone. The one thing I ever asked of you, the only thing I ever asked you to promise me was to never leave me alone. I begged you. Whatever was going on, whatever was happening with us, please don’t leave me alone. And then there were bombs flying and I watched one explode and you made me get into a car and leave. You made me stay alone, and you didn’t come back to me that night. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know if you were even alive because I didn’t have my fucking phone until the next morning and all the news was in Arabic. You were gone to the track before I knew what had happened. You left. You broke your promise, Daniel.”

“I didn’t have a choice!” It was the worst thing he could have said.

“But Blake and Michael got to stay. Angela stayed with Lewis, don’t try to lie to me and tell me she didn’t. Britta stayed with Seb. You sent me away, Dan. I was sobbing and begging you to stay and you made Blake drive me away. You made me leave when I was scared.” She let her words sink into him fully. “Just leave. Get out of this room and leave.”

“Emmy…” His voice was soft and she blinked back the tears she knew she wanted to cry. Not until the airport. Not until then.

“GET OUT DAN!” She yelled at him for the first time, shock on his face. “JUST LEAVE! It’s what you’ve been doing this whole weekend, just leave.”

“Fine. Fine. If that’s what you want, I’m fucking gone. I’m done here, I’m gone. I’ll be downstairs in five for you to say goodbye to everyone.” She watched him walk through the adjoining door and lock it as Em’s heart completely broke in two. She’d ruined it. He was done. He was gone. He was leaving and she was going and she would never speak to him again because her Daniel wasn’t hers anymore. One person down, eight to go.

She brought her bags down to the lobby alone, everyone standing there waiting to say goodbye. Michael got a hug, she’d said everything she needed to earlier that day. Blake was beside him, wrapping her in a full body giant one and holding her tight.

“You know I love you, don’t you? I really love you.” Blake grinned and pulled her close again.

“Love you too, Ems. Moving beside you was the best decision I ever made.”

Saying goodbye to Michelle and Adam was hugs and whispers of seeing them for Christmas when she knew it was a lie. Grace pulled her into a hug that only a mother figure could, whispering in her ear.

“We’re coming over for Silverstone and yours and Dan’s birthdays, so we’ll see you then. We love you Em. If you need anything I’m only a FaceTime away. Don’t let them get you down when you’re with your family.”

“I love you too, Grace.”

Joe got a hug and a murmured love you, his hand patting her back soothingly. The kids were last, sulking as Em squatted down in front of them.

“So I got my angels a present to say goodbye, cause I know I didn’t get to see you lots. Want to see them?” There were identical nods and Em strapped the bracelets on, Isaac’s on a black cord and Isabella’s on a purple one.

“It matches the one I made you and Uncle Dan,” Isabella murmured as Em pulled her into a tight hug.

“It does. It’s a reminder that I love you both so very, very much. No matter how far away we are, I’m always going to love you, okay? Don’t ever, ever forget that. Pinkie promise me?” She held out her little fingers, laughing as they both enthusiastically took part in the ritual. She pulled them in for a final hug, pressing kisses to both of their heads.

“See you on winter break!” Isaac grinned as he spoke, Em putting a tight smile on her face. 

“We call it summer break, but I’ll see what we have to do then buddy.”

“Do you want a lift to the airport? I’ve got the rental?” Joe asked but Em shook her head.

“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got an Uber coming, I just want to get on the road. It’s hard enough to say goodbye to everyone I can’t drag it out much longer.”

“Fair. Love you, kiddo.”

“Love you too, Joe.” Her phone buzzed with the notification that her driver was there and she started towards the door. Dan still hadn’t come down and that was it. He didn’t love her. He didn’t feel anything like how she did because no matter what he’d said, he’d never make her leave. But she made him leave. He was gone.

She was almost at the door when an oh too familiar voice called across the lobby, running up to them. 

“I didn’t think you’d be leaving already.”

“My Uber’s outside, I need to leave.”

“Oh.” There was none of their usual hugs, none of the subtle kisses he pushed to the top of her head when they were separated. He didn’t even squeeze her fingers. It was like they were strangers. “Send a text when you get to London?”

“Yeah, sure.”

She turned to get her luggage into the car, shielding her face from everyone with her hair. The driver lifted it in and she was soon safely ensconced in the back seat, tears falling down her cheeks as she waved goodbye behind partially tinted glass.

“Was that Daniel Ricciardo?” The driver asked, Em forcing a smile.

“Yeah, I work with him.” It was true for another five hours at least.

“He seems like a good guy.”

“He’s one of the best.”

Tears streamed down Em’s cheeks the entire way to the airport, through the fancy check in area and security, and following her into her first class pod. She mostly ignored the staff apart from nodding at them, continuing to cry and wipe her eyes on tissues. The tears barely stopped until Dubai, only aided by Blake’s near constant texts as soon as her email sent.

She knew when she arrived in London that she had about twelve hours before the boys landed, Blake texting even while he was on his flights. She sent a I got back safely, receiving another flurry of responses.

Em, what’s this email about?

What’s going on?

Tell me you didn’t mean to send this

Is it the travel? Do you want to slow down? Why?

Ems we need you. How am I supposed to tell everyone you’re not coming with us anymore? Did you meet someone? Did something happen?

We’re about to land in Heathrow. Dan’s going to his place and looks miserable. I’ll be at your door in less than two hours.

When she got the final text Em grabbed the bags she’d hastily packed with clothes and the things she needed for the next eight days until the boys had left London for Imola. The address of the last minute airbnb was in her email, getting an Uber to it handy. She was long gone by the time Blake arrived, sitting in her temporary home for the next while and planning what she had to do. They’d leave England on the Wednesday, she had five days to empty her flat.

It started with an email to her landlord to give up the lease. Her family reasons excuse was accepted quickly, the landlord told she had to leave London and the apartment would be vacant from the end of the month. After that she had to start planning on where to go to.

There were too many memories in London. Nearly every street reminded her of Dan, of days walking around hand in hand to show him her London, not the tourist one he knew. The city she’d moved to at eighteen with a dream and a student loan and where she’d discovered who she was. Dan was everywhere in the city for her - memories of their first kiss in the pub she’d spent too many hours in, museums she’d dragged him to, streets he’d stolen a kiss from her at with a grin and a chuckle when they were waiting to cross the road. The cafes and greasy spoons she’d brought him to with the promise of not telling Michael. She couldn’t stay there, it was too much.

But everywhere she thought of had memories of him. Filthy weekends away when they were at home because of covid, eating out to help out and driving to Manchester or Glasgow to spend time together and have hotel sex. The midlands were completely out because of Silverstone, of memories of Enstone and the Renault factory, of Milton Keynes and his goodbye from Red Bull.

The only big city she could think of without a memory of Dan - with only one memory of her boys - was Liverpool. Which meant her parents. Which meant a conversation she never wanted to have. Calling her mother wasn’t like calling Grace. But she didn’t have Grace in her life anymore, so she had to do it.

“Emma, what country do you deign to call us from today?” Her mother answered the phone, disdain dripping from every word.

“Good morning, Mother. I’m in England. I was calling because I need to ask for a favour from you.”

“Yes?”

Em swallowed, teeing up words on her too thick tongue. “I had to leave my job, they didn’t have the funding to keep me on. I was wondering if I could move home for a few weeks while I’m applying for new jobs. I want to leave motorsports, there’s too much travelling and I want to settle down.” She hit every keyword that her mother had as she checked her bank account balance, spotting her final pay deposited in the account. It was more than healthy thanks to travelling so much for work and Dan covering that under work expenses. But she needed to be sensible, and renting somewhere without a job would be a mistake.

“You can. You will need to pay rent while you’re here.”

“Of course. Just let me know how much. It wont be for long, it’s just a few weeks. It’ll be like I won’t even be there, if I’m not interviewing I’ll be in my bedroom.”

“Fine. Let me know when you plan to arrive.” She sounded bored of the conversation already.

“I’ll be back April twenty fourth. I can send you the train details then.

“See you then.”

The difference between the call with her mother and a call with Grace just cut the wound in her chest even harder. Grace never let a call end without a million “I love you”s between them. She made sure that Em spoke to everyone in the family, and if Joe was out at the garage she took a message and told Em that he loved her. Instead her mother hadn’t even asked if Em wanted to leave a message for her father.

It felt so, so wrong.

The list of things she had to do before the boys left for Italy was beginning to shrink, but there was still so much to do. She ignored Blake and Michael’s texts, refusing to even open them. The chats were archived so the red dots didn’t irritate her. Dan didn’t send her anything at all, yet more proof that he meant everything he said in Melbourne. He was done with her. She didn’t realise that emotional pain could hurt this much. She’d never believed in soulmates, never believed in fate. She always thought that if a relationship ended she’d get through it. But now? This not quite a relationship over? It ached to her core.

Friday morning she had an appointment with a solicitor, walking in with a tear stained sheet of what she wanted to leave to different people. She’d always fought with Dan about being prepared if something happened to him, not wanting to know what he left her. She was one of the two people who could decide what medical treatment he got if he couldn’t consent. She’d cried when he told her that day in Spa when they got that tragic news what he wanted if he was in a crash like that. That he trusted her to not let him stay on machines. Some of her nightmares included his plaintive “I don’t want false hope” that made her ache.

She didn’t trust her parents to not do the same for her. They’d keep her hooked up to machines for as long as possible, they’d insist it was for “hope”. Em didn’t know what hope, but she knew them. They’d barely spoken for five years apart from occasional texts and birthday cards, they didn’t have the right to decide what happened to her.

It was a blustery Friday morning when she walked into that office and signed the papers to say Daniel Ricciardo, Blake Friend, and Michael Italiano were the people who decided what would happen if she couldn’t make her own medical decisions. She gave the lawyer the makeshift will that was handwritten and tearstained. It was simple - her cookbooks and exercise equipment to Michael because he was always trying to adapt her recipes. All but one piece of her furniture to Blake. Her CDs and DVDs to Dan, along with the coffee table he kept falling over. Her collection of Dan’s raceworn helmets to Isaac and Isabella. Dan, Grace, and Michelle were to divide her jewellery between them based on who wanted what. The rest of her belongings were to be sold and the money put in Isaac and Isabella’s college funds. It was too easy.

Even after everything that had happened, even after walking away, she trusted her boys more than she trusted anyone else in the world.

After all of that her final task was to organise her storage unit and movers. That was easiest of all if Em was honest. A call to a moving company who agreed to put everything in the unit without her there, and walking into a storage company. She signed a two year contract and paid the full rent then and there, surprising the man at the counter. Now she was able to disappear.

The texts kept coming from Blake and Michael. WhatsApp and iMessage, even a signal account she’d forgotten she had on her phone. Michael sent her instagram DMs so she deleted the app instead of trying to avoid reading them and appearing online. But finally it was Wednesday and she knew exactly when the boys were flying out of London City Airport. She’d organised the private flight for them, booked the plane and made sure the flight was as clean as possible. As soon as they’d take off her plan could start.

Walking back into her apartment felt too normal, just checking her post and finding it mostly full of letters from Blake. Get in touch, we’re worried, we miss you. Sentiments she knew he’d share but it would be easy for him to forget about her. The letters went out in recycling and she began to pack up her life.

The boxes were settled easily. Storage, donating, and Dan’s stuff. The ones for him filled quickly, clothes and accessories and things he’d left lying around the apartment that had become theirs instead of just hers. It took three boxes to get rid of the sense of him.

The storage boxes were easier, but the final thing she had to do at four that Sunday morning was decide what to do with her helmet wall. Ever since Monaco and his win, Dan had given her his race worn helmet for any new race design. She could name which race each of them was from, and in the middle was her Monza win one. McLaren had wanted it for the MTC but Dan refused to give it over, insisting it was his and he was keeping it. They got the trophy so he got the helmet. And then he put it in the middle of the IKEA shelves that they’d spent a weekend putting together and laughing.

Part of her - a large part if she was truly honest - wanted to donate them. Get rid of them for the clean break she insisted she needed. But she couldn’t. They were the good parts of the last four years, the best part of her life and the reminder that for years she got to love Daniel Ricciardo and travel the world with her best friends. Once she was settled somewhere she’d put them all back up to get her and explain to whoever asked that she was a part of Formula One for a short while, and it meant so much to her.

It took longer than she expected to get them wrapped carefully and boxed away. Two just about fit in one box, but they were light at least. When they were carefully labelled with the races, a tear falling from her eye when she wrote Monaco 2018 on a box in looping letters, she sat down to write notes to her boys. They deserved more than a resignation email and leaving without saying goodbye but if she saw them in person she wouldn’t walk away. She was barely strong enough to do that the first time. Em couldn’t do it again.

Dan’s took the longest. It started with anger. How could you make me love you when you didn’t love me back scrawled angrily, tears staining the lined pages as she wrote everything. But she couldn’t give it to him how she’d written it. She couldn’t deliberately hurt him. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that she’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t love her back the way she wanted him to love her. It was her fifth draft, still tear stained, that was the one she was giving him.

Danny,

I’m sorry I didn’t say this in person but I couldn’t do it. We both know that things between us haven’t been working for a while. It’s nobody’s fault. I guess we just wanted different things. It happens to us all. But we’re both done and writing this is easier than another long conversation and another fight.

Go be happy. I’ll cheer you on from wherever I end up, no matter what. You’ve changed so many lives, mine included. Thank you for the amazing years and experiences. You let me do things that so few people ever get to do and I can’t thank you enough for that.

Emma

Michael and Blake’s were harder and easier. She only needed one attempt at them, trying to wipe the tears before they fell.

Blakey,

I’m sorry for leaving like this. I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch, but I made sure that everything logistically is booked until the summer break. Just get him where he needs to be on time, you were always better at that than me.

I love you. You’re my big brother and i wasn’t going to make you choose between me and Dan, that was never going to be fair. I’ll be happy and I want you to be happy too. Find a girl and settle down or bring her around the world. I’m rooting for you the entire time.

Will you make sure everyone in the paddock knows I love them? Tell Chloe and Scotty to get their wedding planned. Chloe will be the most beautiful bride and I’m so sorry I won’t get to see her in person. Scotty will look ok, I guess.

Thank you for everything.

Love,

Ems

PS - the extra key is for my storage unit. A1 Storage in Wimbledon. Figured you’d be a good person to have it.

She folded Blake’s letter into an envelope and labelled it before writing the last one. Somehow this was the hardest, having to ask Michael to do what she couldn’t.

Mike,

I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for asking you to pass a message on but I know you will. I love you so much. You made lockdown bearable even when I was being a bitch, and you made me actually enjoy exercising you cruel man.

Tell everyone that I love them and I’m sorry? You let me know exactly what a family is and how I deserve to be loved and that’s something I can never thank you enough for. Ever. I can’t make people decide between me and Dan. He wins every time and that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’s easier if I just leave.

Tell Grace and Joe I love them and I will forever be grateful for their love and support. Let Michelle know that she’s the best big sister ever. Please make sure that Isaac and Isabella know that I love them no matter what. It’s not their fault I left and I will always love them. Whoever gets to be their auntie is the luckiest person in the world and I wish it got to be me.

Tell all your family I love them, and ti voglio bene to Nadia and your Nana. I love you all so much, and I’m cheering you all on from wherever I end up.

Love,

Em

When the movers came she handed them the key to the storage unit, letting them know what to do. Everything was out of the apartment in a few moments and Em took a last look around her almost empty apartment. The memories were suffocating. Dan tripping over the coffee table, the London lockdown when they got back from Australia and they lied to Michael about what the yoga mat’s primary purpose was. The way Dan danced with her in the dark kitchen, distracting her from finding food for them in the fridge and getting them to sway in the silence. The kisses and living together like he loved her the same way she loved him.

He’d been blowing up her voicemail since Wednesday and she deleted them I listened to. The first “Emmy” hurt her too much, so she decided to practice self preservation for once. As soon as her voicemail said “you have an unlistened to voicemail from Dan” it was deleted. The same with Blake and Michael. She couldn’t do it.

Finally it was time to leave, and she carried Dan’s boxes one at a time into Blake’s apartment. The three were stacked one atop the other, the letters on top of them. Em stared at her thumb, at the moon ring that had been there since Dan bought it for her calling her his moon on dark nights. She couldn’t bear to take off the three necklace hanging on her chest, but this she had to leave behind. She wasn’t his moon, and he was too bright to be her sun.

She slipped it off and rubbed her finger against the warm gold, pushing a kiss to it before stepping back. The final thing she needed to do was leave the envelope with her medical power papers and will on Blake’s coffee table before she locked the front door and slipped his keys in his post box. It was done. She was gone.

The tube to Euston was quicker than expected and she joined the trek to the Liverpool train, settling into her seat a few minutes before they were due to pull out. Her phone lit up with a notification that the race was about to start, illuminating the photo from lockdown of her and Dan holding Isaac and Isabella. They looked like a family. Em unlocked her phone and pushed her thumb firmly down on the F1 app to delete it. A clean break.

The train pulled off exactly at two, her mind echoing Crofty’s “lights out and away we go”. Dan was in the car and racing and all she wanted was a good points finish for him. But she couldn’t check. She couldn’t let herself find out what he was doing.

Her tears fell harder as the train pulled into Milton Keynes, the memories of the last time she’d done this train journey as Dan’s plus one. His leaving Red Bull party, staying in a hotel with him the week before they flew to Perth for Christmas. It was the only time she’d gotten to visit the impressive Red Bull factory. Meeting Max properly, Christian cornering her with his wife - and keeping her cool around Geri fucking Halliwell - to ask if she could convince Dan to come back. Getting whisked away from Helmut quickly when he tried to speak to her, meeting the mechanics and team that she’d seen at several races properly for once. Yet another place she could never visit again because all she’d think about was Dan.

Em made herself stop crying shortly after, pushing a cold bottle of water to her eyes. She couldn’t be red eyed or puffy seeing her parents. It was bad enough returning with her tail between her legs. She didn’t know if she’d survive the I told you so.

*

When Dan got out of the car in Imola he knew what he had to do. His first stop was being weighed and getting his slip, Mike pushing one of those AG1 drinks into his hand to down to get electrolytes and water back into him. After that it was media rounds, apologising to Carlos, and doing media. Once the debrief was finished it was London. He needed to get to Emmy. For the second time he’d gotten on a plane when he should have been with her and he needed to apologise. Needed to make things right.

“The jet will be ready when we finish? I need to get back to London tonight.” Michael handed him a McLaren branded shirt and pair of skinny jeans to put on once he was out of the shower.

“It’ll be ready. Mate, you need to know that she might not want—“

“She’ll see me. It’s Em. She’s my Emmy. She’s going to see me and I’m going to tell her everything. I can’t do this without her. I can’t. I dunno how I did it before.”

“Ok. Go shower and head out.”

The debrief was painful. Lando on the fucking podium, Dan last. They wrote off his technical debrief after the collision. It was clear Dan couldn’t have done anything, and the rest of his race was nothing to write home about. He should have just retired. It was shit and he just had to listen to how Lando had a flawless race and was extracting the most out of the tractor McLaren had built. He had to wait until it was over, half listening and taking notes while stewing.

All he could think about was Emmy. He hadn’t reached out because he thought she needed space, wanted time. He’d had the fucking ring in his pocket in the hotel room and then they’d fought and he couldn’t exactly get on one knee and ask her to marry him after that. But now she was gone and she’d been gone for weeks and he didn’t know. He needed her to be ok. He needed to go home and see her on the couch and beg for her forgiveness because he was hers. His apartment was so fucking lonely, driving in and out of the factory without seeing her. Without going to sleep curled up beside her and waking up with the fairy lights glowing as she read whatever dog eared book she was rereading that month.

The voicemails were being listened to. Her inbox went from full to empty and he kept texting, determined to get through to her. Needing her to talk to him. To say anything at all. People kept asking where she was, he laughed it off and gave the excuse of family stuff. Natalie had nodded and said she hoped Em would be back soon. Chloe had looked at him oddly when she heard the excuse but he shrugged and moved on. The elder Stroll could be terrifying and he didn’t want to get on her bad side. Not even Scotty could save him from that.

There was nothing he could do but wait to be freed. The moment they were able to break - after Dan apologised to the mechanics for the job they’d have to do on the car - he was on his way to the driver room. Blake and Michael were already there with bags packed and ready to go.

It was a two hour flight to London and they landed at nine. After forcing their way through traffic in a black cab it was after nine thirty by the time they arrived at Blake and Em’s building. Dan stepped out of the car and grabbed his bags, heading straight upstairs to the two identical doors. He didn’t realise when it became more normal to stand in front of Em’s door than Blakes, but it had years before. He knocked twice to no response.

“Em? I’ve got my key, I’m coming in.”

The lock turned easily with the familiar key and Dan set his bags down to flick the light switch. What he saw terrified him.

The room was empty. The couch that killed his back, the coffee table his shins hated, gone. The bookshelves and the kitchen table they’d spent a lockdown day building, gone. Her helmet collection was missing. Em had once told him that if the building went on fire she would save whichever helmets she could. If they were gone, she was gone.

He ran to her bedroom but everything was missing. The fairy lights they’d taped up with double sided tape. Her bed. The throw cushions he laughed about. Even the case at the bottom of her wardrobe with the lingerie he’d bought her was gone. Her pink boots weren't there. It was like nobody had lived there for years. He couldn’t even smell her perfume in the air.

“Dan?” He hadn’t realised tears were streaming down his face when he turned to see his best mates standing in the doorway. “Mate, you need to see this.”

He followed them back to Blakes, pausing to lock Emmy’s front door. She had to come back. The idea that she wouldn’t come back was impossible.

Until he saw the boxes.

Three of them, neatly stacked almost up to Blake’s chest. There were three envelopes on them, and a glint of gold on top of one. He nearly ran to it, ignoring the post race soreness going through his body to see the ring he’d given her sitting on top of the one neatly labelled Daniel.

She’d used his first name. Emmy never used his first name unless something was wrong. He’d fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to open it.

Instead he held the ring firmly in his palm, the metal cold against his hand. She was there. She had been there and now she was gone and he didn’t know what to do. But instead he followed what Blake and Michael had done and opened his letter.

It was how impersonal it was that killed him. Em was done. She’d be fine. Thanking him for bringing her around the world and letting her work with him. She didn’t want another fight and she thought he was done with her.

She didn’t love him like he loved her and for a brief moment that made him want to die. The moments they’d shared, the times they’d said they loved each other. The times he’d held her and traced I love you down her back or against her clit when he was eating her out, desperate for her to know but too afraid to say it. The 'y’know, right?'. Everything from the last nearly four years. None of it had ever mattered because she wouldn’t have married him. He had her ring in his fucking ever present backpack and thank God he hadn’t tried to propose because she’d have said no and he’d have been humiliated.

“I guess you were right. Buying the ring was a mistake.”

His choked voice broke the silence, but it was Michael who got the next sentence in, cutting off Blake’s question about the ring.

“Mate, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“She doesn’t love me like I love her. I was wrong. I just got my heart broken so please, don’t rub it in right now?”

“Did you read any of what she wrote?”

“Yeah. She’s done. She thanked me for letting her travel with us. Like she didn’t earn her place. She signed it Emma. I was wrong, ok? I was wrong and I can’t take you rubbing it the fuck in when I think Im gonna break.”

“What happened? Because the two of you were fine in Bahrain, and then after Saudi she disappeared and skipped Perth, and she was barely in Melbourne. What happened with you?” Blake was the one who asked, Dan flopping on the couch beside him. He held out his much shorter letter for them to read.

“Things were weird when we got back after Christmas. Then we had covid and got through it. And Saudi fucking happened. With everything going on and keeping her safe I didn’t see her till after the race and she was already leaving. And in Melbourne we… We had a fight.” The memories of what he’d said were circling again, the anger between them, Em telling him to leave again. Him walking away.

“We thought that much. You didn’t even hug her goodbye.”

“She told me to leave!”

“In self preservation.” Michael’s voice was low and Dan was almost afraid of his best friend. “She said she didn’t want to make us choose between you and her, that she knew we’d pick you. So she left. I have to tell your fucking family she’s gone, by the way. She asked me to. So you’re going to tell me everything that’s happened between the two of you and we’re going to fix this. What the fuck did you do?”

He wanted to be annoyed that he was being blamed but he couldn’t blame the boys. So he let everything out.

He told them about wanting to kiss her in Blake’s that first night, of Monaco and their agreement that it was over once she left Monaco. Coffee and Silverstone and her birthday drinks. Spa and I love you when they were faced with the reality of what could happen with his job again. Em begging him to never leave her behind, that no matter what he wouldn’t leave her alone. Her dick of an ex who’d destroyed her self-esteem and meant she lost her friends. The meaning of 'Y’know, right?', the phrase that had been their mantra since 2019. That he hadn’t slept with anyone else since he’d met her because he just knew she was supposed to be his. That he’d bought the ring when they spent Christmas 2020 together but was just waiting for the right moment. And then in Saudi she’d been sobbing and he sent her away. He made Blake take her away from him. From them. He’d broken his fucking promise and again in Australia he walked away when he should have stayed in that room.

She’d picked the fight. She’d picked it so she’d be left alone and leave and the realisation of how well she fucking knew him hurt so much. She knew him like the palm of her hand and for a minute he forgot about it.

“Let me get this straight. You’ve known just how shit her family is for longer than any of us, and I’m the only one who’s actually met them. She asked for exactly one thing from you which was don’t leave her alone. And in Saudi, one of the countries she’s most scared of being away from us for any length of time, you made her go back to the hotel and stay there on her own. She begged you to stay and was sobbing and you left her to cry when she asked you to stay? I could fucking punch you right now.” He nodded at Michael’s words, shame filling every cell in his body.

“You made us leave her alone.” Blake spoke and Dan thought he was going to be sick. “In Melbourne. The morning of the race. 'Em’s going with my parents. She wants family time.' She didn’t know she was going with them, did she? Why?”

“She… I… No. We weren’t ok. I didn’t know if I could be in the car with her. Not after that night.”

“What happened?”

“I… Fuck. She kept the door between our rooms locked that whole week. But Saturday night it wasn’t locked. I had a habit of just trying it, just in case. It was open and I went in. I just lay down on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep for a while before falling asleep. I left before she woke up. She didn’t know, she was asleep the whole time.”

“You think our Ems was asleep for a full night before a fucking race? Are you an idiot? Did you get brain damage in that crash today? She doesn’t fucking sleep! You slept in the same bed as her for four fucking years and you don't know that? She’s into me for melatonin every damn night because she can’t sleep worrying about you. She was awake that entire night and you left her without saying a goddamn word and then you abandoned her again. Again, Dan. Don’t tell me you did something stupid and cheated on her like her fucking ex.”

“I never cheated. I haven’t touched another woman.” The thought made him sick. “I’m not that asshole. You know I’m not.”

“I don’t mean to be funny Dan. She lived beside me for nearly five years. She’s my friend. And now her apartment is for rent, your shit is here, and she’s told us all goodbye and to give messages to the people she loves. So you might not have cheated on her, but you broke her. It took us four years to help Em feel like herself again and put her pieces back together and you broke her.” Blake was opening another envelope mixed in with the post on his coffee table that Em had left in as he spoke, eyes widening slightly. Before he could get the words out Michael had to.

“You’re telling your family, by the way.” His voice was solid, a way Dan had never heard before. “She asked me to tell them but I can’t. I can’t break those kids hearts and tell them their auntie Emmy loves them forever but she can’t see them again. I can’t tell your sister that she’s lost a sister, and I can’t tell your parents that you ran off the woman they want you to marry. That the woman your mum teaches family recipes to had to leave, because you fucked up that much. You know she’s their second daughter, right? Even before whatever the fuck you’ve been doing started they adored her. From Monaco. Em’s lost the only decent mother she’s ever had because of you. She didn’t want to make us choose but if she was here right now I’d choose her over you any day.”

“If you think she doesn’t love you, read this.” Blake held out a package of papers, Dan skimming them.

Everyone in his line of work was familiar with leaving a will behind. The fucking academies basically demanded it at this point. He’d put Emmy on his own medical power of attorney form after Spa, told her what he was leaving her when she was ready for that conversation after Roman nearly died in Bahrain. 

But Emma wasn't racing cars every weekend, so she didn't need the papers she signed. She didn't need to leave a will behind, but his name was there to make decisions for Em. She’d left him specific things. The cold fear snaked up his spine, tightening around his lungs and making it hard to breathe.

“She wouldn’t. She won’t do anything stupid. It’s Em, she wouldn’t.” The words came out as a rush but certain. She wouldn’t hurt herself. God, he couldn’t live with himself if she did.

“It’s probably just a precaution. But Jesus Christ, Dan. She’s gone. We have no idea where she is, we don’t even know what country she’s in. We don’t know what kind of head start she has and with the amount of frequent flier miles she has she could be anywhere. We can probably cross off here and Australia, but that doesn’t take away much.” 

“I need to leave.” Dan turned to see Michael pick up his bag. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk. I’ll email you workout plans. She’s my fucking sister, Dan. She’s my little sister and I trusted you knew what you were doing with her. She said goodbye to me and I didn’t even know. You… I can’t look at you right now. I’m this close to quitting too because I don’t know you anymore. The Dan I grew up with? He would have said something. He wouldn’t make the woman he kept saying he was going to make his wife run away. He wouldn’t make her feel unloved. Just work out what you’re going to do. I’ll be on the plane to Miami but I don’t know if I’ll see you before then.” Dan watched as his oldest friend, the man he’d known since primary school, who’d supported him through thick and thin, walked out of the apartment into the London night.

“She’s gone. She’s really gone and she’s not coming back. I… I have to find her, Blake. I can’t do this without her.”

“You need to work out what you’re doing. You need to tell your family she’s gone. You need to do your job. We’re all hurting right now and yeah your heart is breaking. But its my job to do tough love and tell you that you need to work first and then think about her.” He stared at Blake in shock. “I’m pissed. But work first. Em somehow managed to take everything off my plate when she was leaving, because she didn’t want to make things hard on me. Go home, Dan. I have to call Chloe Stroll and tell her Em’s not coming back.”

“Not yet. Please. Let me f—“

“I’m telling her. You can hide it from the media, from your family, whatever. Chloe is Em’s best friend outside us. Do you really think she hasn’t tried calling Em already? Really?” Dan nodded once. “Go home. Your place, not the empty apartment next door you called home. Go home and get your shit together. Em would kill you if you fucked up a race over her.”

Dan got an Uber on his phone, taking his bags downstairs along with his letter from Em. He slipped the moon ring onto his little finger, settling it just above the sun. He needed her back. He just didn’t know how to find her.

[yuusishi]

Hello, can i ask for Idia or Ace (I can't choose between the two the one I want, so you can choose it), Lilia and Ruggie (my man need more love) hc with a reader that adopt legally Grim ? Like, now Grim have the last name of reader, and he call reader his dad/parent, and they have to be approved by Grim to date the reader ?

(separate please)

Have a good day/night (sorry for my bad english)

-Anon

. . . INTRO TO NON-HUMAN PARENTHOOD

pairings : Ace Trappola , Lilia Vanrouge , Ruggie Bucchi x gn!reader

genre : fluff , written with graduated!reader + characters in mind , established relationship

cws/tws : very tiny book 7 spoilers…like rlly small

a/n : it feels so weird not having any work done since my teachers assigned all our work before christmas break so we’d be able to rest

ACE TRAPPOLA !!

If he has to be honest, he doesn't know how to feel, not in a bad way tho!! He's so used to teasing Grim as a part of the first years friend group, but now that he's legally your child (and by extension his son), it just feels weird sometimes.

But in the end their relationship doesn't change one bit, this also means there's endless bickering whenever Ace comes by your place.

The one thing he can't get used to is though is Grim referring to you as his parent. I mean, c'mon, if you've been hearing "henchmen", "my human" for years it's bound to be quite the change.

During the legal adoption process, he's the type to be beside you searching on his cheap little laptop the meaning of so many words on the documents you're meant to sign (this is his way of helping you).

It doesn't sink in for a while that the three of you are technically a family, you occasionally joke about getting married in the (probably near) future and making Grim be the ringbearer or flowerboy.

One night when Ace crashed at your place, you came home to see him and Grim passed out on the couch next to each other, even seeing two slices of pizza purposefully left for you and hints of the tomato sauce stuck on the edges of the two's lips. You smile, nothing truly changes with these two.

Lilia Vanrouge !!

He's SO excited.

Silver's getting a new stepbrother once the legal process is done.

He's slightly disappointed though that, since Grim is already grown at this point, he won't be able to raise him like he did with Malleus and Silver but he'll still consider him a son either way.

I don't think unwanted fatherhood included brushing up on law and the adoption process so your guess on what terms on the documents mean is as good as his.

But we have the internet! Like Ace he's searching the meanings and making sure you understand the depth of every word printed onto the documents. Although he's hasn't formally adopted a child, he at least knows the legal repercussions that could happen should anything happen to Grim.

Overall, he's happy to have a new addition to his family :) First it was Malleus, then Silver came by, then Sebek, then now you and Grim.

When he first heard Grim refer to you as his parent, he can’t help imagining if Grim would call him “dad” or “father” like Silver does [cue heart attack].

He thinks about his general days occasionally, especially when he gazes on as you and Grim play around the field near the house he found after leaving NRC. He did not enjoy the war, not in the slightest, but maybe fighting in it was worth it if this was the type of future he's able to enjoy.

Ruggie Bucchi !!

He was really surprised, as in super surprised.

The entire concept of parenthood didn’t interest Ruggie in the slightest since it just meant more money to spend, even if it meant you had a little bundle of joy, but when you said that you were legally adopting Grim…

He looked at you like you set off a bomb in front of him 😭.

But after calming down a bit, he realized that Grim wouldn’t be even more of a handful than he already is since it’s not like he’s a baby that needs 24/7 caring.

Ruggie’s worked a ton of part time jobs just to earn some extra cash while on Sage’s Island, so he’s definitely dabbled in the law in one way or another.

He’s also just generally smart so he was your go-to man in asking the meaning of some legal jargon and he was happy to help you free of charge.

Hearing Grim call you his parent for the first time and even refer to you as that when you’re all at home surprised him a lot.

You’re telling him the little brat that always called you “human” and “henchman” in NRC calls you his parent now?? He can’t believe it.

After finally being able to adopt Grim, he didn’t feel the need to act “fatherly” since he’s known you both for years ever since NRC. Sure, he might be more open to going on midnight snack runs, but that’s it!

When reality sets down on him that he actually has his own ‘family’ now, it was a strange feeling. A sort of bittersweet happiness. It was a dream to him that he wishes would never go away, and you were there to remind him that this was his reality.

[tiannasfanfic]

Eddie’s Secret Stash

Eddie Munson x Reader (Smut)

| Eddie & Steddie Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: When your laptop goes on the fritz, using your boyfriend's computer leads you to finding his porn collection in an unexpected way.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Author Note: Afab Reader, they/them pronouns (if any). Modern AU. Smutty but not full smut.

CW: Porn watching; description of porn video (ffm threesome, oral [f and m recieving], p n v sex).

Word Count: 1,628

It all started out with an innocent text to your boyfriend.

Hey babe, my laptop crashed again and I really want to get this story finished. Can I hop on your computer really quick?

Even though Eddie was at work, it didn’t take long for him to text you back.

You don’t ever need to ask me that, sweetheart, feel free to hop on whenever you need to.

Sweet! Thanks baby!

You went to his desk, sat down, and woke up his computer.

After it booted up, you had to text him again.

I kinda need the pin code to unlock it.

Every time you had used his computer before, he was home and it was already unlocked, so you just jumped on and did what you needed to do. Up until now, you didn’t even know he had a pin code on it.

Oh shit! Sorry sweetheart, I forgot. It’s the month and day of your birthday.

That made you melt into a puddle right there at the desk.

Aww, trying to score some brownie points with me?

Maybe…Is it working?

You’ll just have to wait until you get home to find out. ;)

Score!!!

Despite the fact you had been together for a while now, Eddie always acted like a horny teenager whenever you made allusions to having sex with him. And you were just as bad when he did it, even blushing a bit now at his eagerness, so you couldn’t really tease him about it.

You set your phone aside and typed the PIN number into his computer.

As a little turning wheel appeared on the center of the screen to show it was thinking about signing in, you got three texts from Eddie in rapid succession. He only did that when something was urgent or he was excited about something, so you looked at your phone Lock Screen to see what he said.

Wait!

Don’t sign onto my computer yet!

I need to get home first!

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the computer screen change as it finally signed you in and you glanced up from your phone to it.

And then you took a much longer glance.

On the monitor in front of you, paused in mid scene, was the fairly zoomed in image of a hard cock disappearing into the mouth of a woman wearing dark lipstick.

You blinked a few times and stared at the screen for a moment.

As a frequent purveyor of porn yourself, you weren’t upset by what you saw on your boyfriend’s screen. But surprise porn was like surprise alcohol in a drink when you were expecting soda or surprise weed when you were expecting a hand rolled cigarette. It’s always a bit shocking and it takes a moment to recover from. When you did, the corners of your mouth to curve upward in a playful grin.

Now with your original train of thought gone, you were in a playful mood. Your story could wait awhile. The deadline for it wasn’t until two weeks away anyway, you had just wanted to get the first draft done.

Settling back in Eddie’s computer chair, you clicked the space bar to unpause the video.

In this time period, two more texts came in from Eddie. You glanced at your Lock Screen again without opening them.

Sweetheart?

Y/N? Baby??

Eddie seemed uncharacteristically worried, which was a little bit confusing. The two of you had talked about watching porn before, so he should know it wouldn’t bother you. You shrugged and set your phone down, distracted by what was going on in the video.

It was a well-done amateur recording of a two girl, one guy threesome. As the one girl was blowing the guy, she was sitting on the other girls face. The scene stayed like this for just long enough to let you take everything in before the guy was pulling his cock from the girls mouth and then pushing her down so the two girls were in a sixty-nine.

You bit your lip, watching with rapt attention as the guy hopped down from where he had been standing on the bed to position himself behind the girl on top. He then grasped the base of his shaft with one hand, angling it so the girl on the bottom could start sucking on the head. It was a messy angle, soon her lips and cheeks were glistening with saliva from his thrusts into her mouth.

A small warmth began pooling between your legs as you watched the guy pull his cock out of her mouth, angle himself upwards and then sink deep into the cunt of the girl on top.

You had to give it to your boyfriend. He had good taste.

Since you had been striking out lately with your usual porn sites, you began to get curious where Eddie usually found his. You paused the video and minimized the window to find out.

Rather than a website, you were greeted by the file browser on the computer system itself, opened to a folder that was filled with porn. And it was by no means a small collection, it looked like he’d been working on this for years. There were dozens of sub folders and sub sub folders dedicated to specific acts and specific porn stars. Most of the videos were unsorted though, the majority of the files just dumped directly into this main porn folder.

Eddie had sent a few more texts by now, which you had ignored in favor of opening a different video that caught your eye. When it was clear those hadn’t gotten your attention, he was soon calling you instead.

“Edward James Munson!” you said when you answered your phone, making your voice sound stern.

“Sweetheart, I promise, it’s not what it looks like!”

“Really?” you said. “Because what it looks like is that you’ve been holding out on me!”

“I honestly wasn- wait, what?” he said, going from pleading to confused in two seconds.

“Seriously!” you said, exaggerating the tone so it was clearly playful. “You have an impressive collection like this and you don’t even think to share?” You clicked your tongue at him in an admonishing way. “I’m hurt. Truly, I’m hurt.”

There was a long pause from Eddie’s end of the phone.

“I’m…sorry?” he said slowly, nerves and hesitation in his voice, like this was an entirely new situation he found himself. “I…didn’t realize…you’d be interested in…it.”

“Seriously?” you dropped the playful act, now confused yourself. “We’ve talked about our favorite porn stars before, in depth discussions even, and you didn’t think I’d be interested?”

“Hey!” Eddie protested. “In my defense, do you know how many people will say they are fine with porn then freak out if they catch you watching it?”

Now that you thought about it, he had a point. Even you had that issue a few times in the past, either because you watched porn in general or because of what kind you watched.

“All right, fair point,” you said, then switched back to that playfully stern voice. “But that still doesn’t make it okay, mister.”

Now that Eddie knew how you really felt about the whole thing, his tone changed to a playfully apologetic one.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” he said, then his tone dropped lower. “Let me make it up to you, sweetheart.”

His voice sent pleasurable tingles down your spine.

“And how do you propose you’ll do that?” you said.

While you weren’t really paying too close of attention to the video you selected, focusing on the timber change of your man’s voice instead, what you did pay attention to had you rubbing your thighs together slightly. This one was definitely right up your ally.

“In any way you want me too, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a soft growl that was nearly a purr. “Anything you want me to do to you, I’ll do it with pleasure.”

Being a metal singer, and a damn good one at that, Eddie could do things with his voice outside of music that you previously wouldn’t have thought possible. While you were already getting quite worked up easily enough on your own, he knew just the right inflection to use on each word to make you clench around nothing.

And it also made all rational thought fly from your brain.

You swiveled your gaze up to the ceiling, distracting yourself just enough to pull your brain back from the haze Eddie’s voice was making your brain slip into.

“Gosh, I just don’t know,” you said, tapping your chin with one finger even though Eddie couldn’t see it. “Oh! I know! I could browse through these videos I found and see if those give me any ideas!”

From the other end of the phone, you heard Eddie clear his throat a couple of times. Clearly the idea of you watching porn on his computer derailed his brain a little bit.

“T-That is a good idea,” he said, and you could tell by his voice that you just made him blush, among other things.

“You’re off in about an hour, right?” you asked, and when he made a sound of confirmation, you continued. “I’m sure I will have something fun in mind by then.”

Since it was clear his brain wouldn’t get back on track if the phone call continued, you quickly let him go so he could finish out his workday.

As you settled back into his chair, watching the video, an evil grin came to your face.

If you knew Eddie as well as you were sure you did, this next hour was going to be the longest hour of his life.

Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore @bmunson86 @tayhar811

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Believe what you want is amazing! We need part 2 if you can, love it 💕

After a long while, here's happy ending, you can read part 1 here "Believe What You Want" and the angsty second part here "Angsty Version" . Tbh, I don't know what I did here, I was falling asleep in front of my laptop💀 so yeah sorry if it isn't good😭

I took ages to do this one, I know but I've been extremely busy and sometimes I can't with myself

Believe What You Want (2) - P.G8

(Happy ending)

Summary: After realizing he fucked up, he tries his best to get you back

"I overheard them speaking that night at Fer's birthday. Victoria was going on about you and her, that your things with Y/N would end up soon... Those kind"

Pedri's mind was racing in fear and agony. "No" He whispered "Is there any possibility for Victoria to have made those burns in Y/N's skin?" "

"Well, it can be... She got out of the house around noon so..." Pedri's eyes clicked up like lightning all the dots were connecting by your side.

You were right. All this time you were.

He had been too stupid to realize that

"No" He whispered once more

"What's up, dude?"

"I fucked up bro. Big one"

...

"She doesn't answer me" Pedri said for the fifteen time in a row pacing around in his room

"And she won't answer to you" Fer said "I mean... I wouldn't answer you either"

Pedri had explained everything to the three guys in the room, Fer knowing a bit more thanks to you. And he knew that his younger brother loves you to death but he also knows that what he did, wasn't right.

"¡Joder! ¡Soy un puto idiota!" (Fuck! I'm an asshole!) Pedro yelled kicking a ball in his room crashing into one of your pictures together "No, joder... No" (No, shit... No) He hurried to pick up the picture and inspect it. It had one little scratch made from the glass, the scratch made in between the two of you.

He shook all the negative thoughts that were running in his head and changed the photo frame.

"Well, you've got to understand her" Adrián began speaking "All of this could be true and her boyfriend just choosed to not believe her"

"I did not just choose not to believe her"

"You basically did, bro" Fer hissed "I mean... If my girl tells me that I would do more than just talking with each girl separatedly"

"And not only that but you also told her your personal fights as a couple" Jesús said

"Because she's my best friend!"

"Hermano..." Fer started "That's meant to be something only for the two of you, not something for you, Victoria and Y/N" Fer shook his head "I mean... It's okay you ask someone else for an advice, like what to do or stuffs but not to rant because for that, you've your girl. The one who's in the relationship with you. The one who's with you in the goods and the bads" silence flowed into the room, Pedri's heart was beating incredibly fast "If you want her back, you need to fully work for it, Pedro. Words won't do half of the work you gotta do"

And that was it.

Pedri broke down, feeling already the loss of the love of his life not being next to him, this time a bit heavier than the past 7 days. He left you when you didn't do anything at all. He threw you and your relationship away without a good reason. Tears escaped his eyes and his breathing was erratic.

All of his thoughts were about you and imaginating a life without you in it, thanks to himself.

"I'll be back before midnight" Pedro said grabbing his phone, wallet and car keys

"Where are you going? Won't you even take a shower? You smell" Adrián said shaking his head

"He cometido un grave error con la chica que amo, en estos momentos oler bien o estar guapo es lo que menos me vale" (I've made a big mistake with the girl I love, right now I don't care if I smell or look good)

"Pedro" Fer called him before he got out of the room "Buena suerte, hermano" (Good luck, bro) Pedri for the first time ever, smiled a bit.

"Thank you"

He was going to work for your forgiveness. He will make you fall in love with him again. He will win your trust again. You'll be happy with him. You'll be with him. He was going to make sure that happen.

And for that, he needed answers.

...

"Yes, there was a (Hair color) girl, with (Type of Eyes), a bit short, she was pretty nice. Sad thing she got hurt" A boy behind the counter said hissing remembering the moment "Elianna went with her, she said it was pretty bad but nothing that some cream and care couldn't do"

"Is that girl here? Elianna?" Pedri asked hopeful

"She's on her lunch break right now" The guy answered "She has the whole shift... Is it important?"

"Yes, really important" Pedri said without a doubt

"I'll let her know. You can sit anywhere and if you want to have a drink you can tell me" Pedri nodded slowly walking away.

He didn't know how much time he was there until a redhaired girl walked up to him, he without thinking straight stood up

"My workmate said you were looking for me?"

"Are you Elianna?" She nods "I'm Pedro. I'm the boyfriend of the girl that was poured coffee all over her"

"How's she?" She asked after gasping a bit at the mention of you. "I hope she's better"

"Ah-yes, she is a bit better. Thank you for asking" Pedri nodded nervous "Can I ask you something?" The girl nodded "Who poured the coffee on her?"

"Some random girl, Y/N said the girl didn't liked her..."

"Could you maybe describe her?"

"Oh, sure!" Elianna nodded "She had long hair, brunette with blonde highlights, she used tight clothes and she wasn't as short as Y/N, she was a bit more taller, maybe just like you?"

That was exactly Victoria's description.

"She entered a few minutes before Y/N, after I gave her a box of cupcakes she just kind of ran away and then next thing I knew was that the same girl poured hot coffee on Y/N"

Pedri stood there taking in all the information

"She hasn't been here since that day" Pedri nods humming "However, Y/N has and I know for a fact that her boyfriend broke up with her thanks to his best friend" Pedri looked up at her, guilt filled over his body "Why are you behind her? She's been awful these past few days, she's recovering from your treatment, why the need of asking all of this, if you don't believe her?"

"Because I fucked up. I fucked up big time and I want to mend it"

"Wish you luck... You'll deserve it because if I was her, I wouldn't even give you the time of the day or spare you a single look" Pedri looked down in shame and regret "I need to go... You want to order something?" He shook his head

"Not feeling hungry at all" He murmured grabbing his wallet and pushing some money into the girl's hand

"You aren't ordering anything"

"For you... For the help, for the info. Thank you"

And with that Pedri stood up and left the cafeteria. As soon as his body met the Catalan air, he fought the need of crying his everything out. You were right, just like you always were.

"I shouldn't have just let it pass" He said crying to himself now in the calm of his car. "I should have done something" He lamented.

His phone lighted up with a notification he didn't care about, his focus remained on a photo from the two of you at one of his spots in Barcelona to calm down and relax.

"Please, mi niña. Tell me how to make things right, tell me it's not too late, just please..." he begged at nothing because you weren't there and you haven't been since 7 days ago.

And as reality was hitting him, he knew there could be a possibility of you not going into his life ever again. Leaving him for your own good while he was suffering.

Pedro picked up his phone and dialed his best friend Jesús's number.

"¿Aló?" (Hello?)

"You said you heard them speak that night at Fer's birthday, right? I need to know everything you heard and if you saw something too, I'm on my way to pick you up so we can talk"

"You're really working for Y/N?"

"I am" Pedri nodded "I fucked up and I'm trying to mend everything with her"

"I'm waiting for you, hermano and also..."

"¿Qué?" (What?)

"Good luck, you'll need it"

That phrase was starting to get on his nerves, he didn't liked how that sounded, because it seemed like even with all the effort he'll make, it'll not be enough to bring you back into his arms.

"Thanks bro"

...Two days later...

"Why?" Pedri said entering Victoria's house

"Hola Vic. ¿Cómo estas? ¿Qué tal va todo? Días sin verte" (Hi Vic. How are you? How's everything going? Long time not to see) She mockingly said with a smile but her smile was wipped off of her face when she saw Pedri's seriousness

"No estoy para juegos. Dime el por que has hecho eso" (I'm not in the mood for games. Tell me why you've done that)

"Done what?"

"¿Me estás tomando el pelo?" (Are you making fun of me?) Pedri hissed angry "Stop playing around and tell me... why you did all of that to Y/N?"

Victoria's face changed

"I didn't do anything"

"You did. Don't lie to me about anything because I know how things went now" Victoria's face changed

"What do you mean?"

"I know you poured hot coffee on her that day at the coffee, I know you've been telling her things behind my back about my relationship with her and stuffs, I know you poured her drink on yourself but made it look like it was her doing" Pedri shook his head not believing it "You faked things and like a fucking stupid I believed them, when the one I should've believed was my girlfriend! You damaged my relationship but I was the one breaking it for believing you, for believing my best friend"

"I let go the woman I'm in love with and it was all thanks to you because I never thought that my best friend, the one who has been besides me through my whole life could do such a thing and lie to me straight to my face!" Pedri's face was red and he never stopped to take a bit of air, he was fuming, he was angry and all he wanted to do was make Victoria disappear.

But most of all, all he wanted was to get you back.

"Those are lie-"

"If you even dare to say lie, I will pour the same drink Y/N was drinking that day at Fer's birthday, this time someone pouring it over you for real"

"She's making those things up!"

"She's making nothing up! I saw the video of the CCTV camera of the coffee shop, Jesús heard and saw the two of you at Fer's birthday and now that I connect dots, every single thing Y/N has told me, has sense now. And I hate the fact I couldn't see through it, I hate that I put my girlfriend's words in doubt all thanks to someone who didn't deserved a single look"

"Pedro, stop. You're hurting me"

"And don't you think you've hurted me before? You knew I was having troubles with her and all you wanted was to get her away from me. Why?" Nothing came out of Victoria's mouth

Your words came back to him and he blinked thrice, suddenly being brought back.

"Don't know" You sighed "As much as Victoria might love each and every single one of you, guys... I can assure you that what she said to me today and the way she said it, it wasn't a joke" You said "I'm a girl and I have a male best friend too. But I wouldn't say those kind of stuffs just as a friend or to see if she's worth and good for him" You shook your head "Es más, ni siquiera le diría algo de ese estilo a ella" (I wouldn't even tell her something like that)

"She likes you" You said after a few more seconds "And that's it"

"Can I ask you something and you answer me with the truth?" Pedri said with his heart on the edge, he waited and all he got was a simple and small nod from Victoria "Are you in love with me?"

A few seconds passed where Pedri's eyes never left Victoria's "Yes" She said softly "I am" Pedri felt the air being knocked out from his lungs "Pedrito"

"No" He shook his head looking away "No" Pedri's eyes grow watery, he couldn't believe it. Once again, you were right, his actions and words replaying in his head, the way he ignored your feelings, the way he treated you, everything was haunting him. "Don't call me Pedrito nor Pedro, Pedri, Pepi, nothing. Don't even call me, forget about me, you are not my best friend"

"Pedri, por favor, don't do this"

"No. I didn't do anything, you did it yourself. Best friends don't do what you did to me, if you truly loved me, you could've straight up tell me that not take it out on the girl I'm in love with"

"In love with? So in love you are, you did not believed a single thing from her"

"And that was my biggest mistake because I thought "Why on earth the girl that has been besides me since forever would do something to damage me or the ones I love?"" Pedri laughed ironically shaking his head "I was so wrong and I regret every single thing I did since I saw Y/N leave on Fer's birthday but guess what? I had the one I thought was my best friend besides me but I never did"

"You still have me"

"If I do, I don't care, the one I truly need isn't here" Pedri shook his head "But I did needed my best friend those seven days to tell me everything was going to be okay, that I could move on, that I was in the right and Y/N in the wrong, that I did good in breaking up with someone who could only do was lie but then I find everything out and I realized I was just a puppet in the side of your game and I fell for it"

"Don't say it like that"

"That's exactly what it was" Pedri shook his head "´Now, me disculpas pero me tengo que ir" (Excuse me but I've got to go)

"¿Y para dónde vas?" (Where are you going?)

"You shouldn't care about that, Victoria. Hope you have a good life" With that Pedri turned around and walked outside of her house when almost inside his car he heard her yell his name out

"Pedro!" He looked at her "I'm sorry"

Pedri joined his lips and nodded softly, lifting one of his hands giving her a wave before he got into the car and drove off to certain destination with a single intention.

...

"What do you mean she's not here?"

"She hasn't been here since like a week ago?" The older lady said with a smile "She said she'll come back tho"

"Do you know where she might be?"

"I don't, mijo. I'm so sorry" She looked at Pedro carefully "Is everything okay?"

"I need to know where she is so I can fix things between us" Pedro answered with a lump on his throat, his voice cracked a bit and he looked down at his shoes

The older lady sighed "I'm pretty sure you'll fix everything that may be happening with the two of you, son"

"I don't know, miss. I messed up really big this time"

"From what I've seen you love each other so much, I've never seen someone look at her in the way you do and vice versa, talking things out can be really helpfull instead of letting problems grow"

"The thing is I never let her talk and all I did was say things I shouldn't" Pedri shook his head

"You know? She's looking really pretty in those pictures, maybe you can start from there" A loud "Abuela" was heard as the older lady smiled looking over her shoulder

"What pictures?"

"Oh, you know... The ones you take, the ones you update, the ones people take, those pictures..." The woman was smiling softly "Don't let her go" And with that she left leaving Pedri sat in front of your doorstep

He was sat there analyzing the woman's words. Pictures? The ones you take? Update? People take? Pedri's mind ran 120km/h trying to guess what she meant of and after some minutes and what it felt a whole lifetime, he confused grabbed his phone and clicked on Instagram.

You liked it even more than Twitter or even Tiktok, Pedri remembered with a smile the moments where you would "fight", he; claiming Tiktok was better as you defended Instagram with your life

He typed your user with no reward, you blocked him. And it was no surprise at all but his heart still broke a little bit more when he couldn't find you.

He sighed closing his eyes and relying his head in your door, fighting the tears, it seemed like he only could do that in the past days, cry 'till he had no more tears inside of him, fight the urge to cry and feel his stomach fall to his feet. He hated feeling this way and he hated the way he must have put your through

He unlogged his session and went into his mother's, you couldn't have blocked her, could you? With shaky hands and blurry eyes he typed in your user and this time your profile was the first one to appear, the colorful circle around your picture meaning you had stories up.

While he was sad, you were in Venice with your friends and family, he recognized almost all of the faces in the pictures, all of them except one, a male's one.

That quickly catched his attention, that guy appeared in eight out of ten pictures and in all of them he was besides you. You even tagged him on one and Pedri's thumb directly went to his account.

One of the most recent post of the guy said: "I hate the fact that when I met my soulmate she had boiling coffee burns on her but I certainly don't hate the fact I got to meet you, baby!"

Pedri's stomach flipped, seeing your answers of "♥️🥰" made his head turn everywhere, in an instant he got up and headed towards the elevator in his mind only three things. His passport, Venice and you.

Due to some storms in Spain, he couldn't get out that same day and neither the next day, it was day three when he got into the plane and one day after he was in the same residence as you were.

He saw your brother and followed him, he felt like being on Matrix, he was making sure no one saw or heard him, that was until he stumbled on a vanity table and knocked half of the things that were in there

"What was that?" He heard and that's when he ran, the quitness and calm forgotten as he was desperate to find you. He took a right turn colliding with a female chest after a few seconds

"Joder, lo siento mucho" (Fuck, I'm so sorry) He said inmediately

"Pedro?" You said shocked as he also stood there impressed. You looked even more beautiful than always. Your tanned skin, your red cheeks and your Y/H color making you look perfect. "Pero, ¿Qué haces aqui? (but, what are you doing here)

"Por ti. I came here for you, I want to talk to you"

"We don't have anything to talk, in fact, you don't even have to come here, you don't have a reason to travel all the way from Barcelona to Venice"

"I did, I do. My reason is you and you'll always be. I fucked up, yeah? I get that" Pedri shakes his head "You were right" He opens his mouth but closes it "You were right all this time and I'm sorry I couldn't see it through, I'm sorry I did not take your words, I'm sorry I just kinda left and pushed your feelings aside, you deserve more, you deserve better but I can be better, I can be what you want, need and more if you want me to"

You started shaking your head, pushing him back from his chest when he tried to get closer to you.

"Pedri por favor, aquí no" (Pedri please, not here) "Pedri, stop. We don't have anything to say"

"Y/N, bonita, te lo suplico-" (I beg you-)

"Vamos al cuarto, ¿si? We can talk about whatever you want and then you leave" (Let's go to my room, yeah?)

"I don't want to leave without you"

You looked into his big brown eyes as he looked into your (Eye color) ones for a good while, you sighed before breaking eye contact

"But you have to" You said nodding slowly, Pedri shook his head

"Por favor" (Please) He whispered

"This way" You turned around walking away while Pedri watched your every move

You called the elevator and entered when it came, you turned to Pedri

"You wanna talk or not?"

Pedri nodded and walked towards it, he turned his head to look at you

"Do I have something on my face?" He hummed for a few seconds before answering

"You're beautiful" He ignored your words as you looked up at him

"Please, stop that"

"I-" He got cut off by the elevator doors opening

"This way" You said walking off as he only could follow you.

You stopped walking when you got to the door 408, with the key you opened it and then stepped inside letting the door open for him to come in as well.

You took a seat in the couch and patted the spot next to you, he took it and you both were silent.

"So... ¿Vamos a hacernos compañía o vas a decir lo que sea que quieres decir?" (Are we going to be each others company for now or you are going to speak whatever you want to say?)

"I'm sorry" He began "I fucked up. I should've listened to you and put Victoria a stop, I should've been more careful with you and your feelings, not passing through them and ignore them. I believe you, I always did and I always will do but it seemed so unreal that what I thought was my best friend, could do such a things, hurt the one I love and the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, when her whole life she was protecting me and supporting me through everything"

"If my family wasn't there, she was. If my family didn't have an advice, she had. And for you to just say she did this and said this was a whole different thing from what I knew from her that I just couldn't believe it. But it was truth. And I'm sorry once more"

"Y/N, I'll do anything for us, I'm not giving up, we're so good together, I love you so much and if only I could turn back in time and do everything right I would but I can't, however, I'm here to mend things, I'm not expecting you to forgive me and that's it. I'll earn that forgiveness, I'll protect us and I'll be better for you if you let me, please. I love you, I want you and I need you"

"It's not easy as you made it sound, Pedri"

"Pedro" You shook your head

"That's something only family and close friends can call you, right?"

"Don't do this, please"

"But you did it first" You said pushing your lips together. Those were the exact same words he had told you the night you left "You really hurted me and you just can't change that. Please, I think it's best if we let this go" You looked into his brown eyes as he was shaking his head "For both of our own goods"

"Not having you in my life it's not good for me"

"Maybe not but it's the correct thing to do" You said "I just can't trust you anymore, no matter what you do. You told me I wasn't the same girl you fell in love with, that says enough"

"But it's not true, I said it in the heat of the moment! You are still the same girl I fell in love with and you're still the same girl I want to do my life with"

You stood in silence for a few moments before you stood up "That hurt me a lot. Hearing the guy I'm terribly in love with say that I'm not that girl he fell in love with"

"Y/N-" He stood up from the couch as well

"It's done" Your voice cracked "You don't get to come here after doing that stunt back at your brother's birthday and once you realized I was in the right came straight back here to apologize, hoping for me to run back into your arms" You shook your head "You don't"

"Does he treat you good?" He said out of nowhere

"¿Acaso te la fumaste? ¿De quién estás hablando?" (Did you smoke it? Who are you talking about?) You said confused

"About your new friend! The one that appears in every single story of yours and on your posts!"

"Mason?"

"That same one" You laughed dryly

"He's gay" You blurted out "Believe me if he wasn't I would be already trying something with him since he does believe in me not like others"

"I said I was sorry"

"And I said that didn't make it. If you want me back you'll have to do a lot more than just apologizing, González"

"He seems to like you"

"He doesn't. He's here with his fiancée, they're celebrating their engagement" You remembered that night at your apartment, the night he showed you his new engagement ring and that same night he asked you to go to Venice with him and your family to get your mind out of your ex.

"I'm sorry"

"You like to apologize a lot and tend to not feel the sorry"

"I do am"

"Great, good for you. Can you please go now?" He shook his head

"No. I love you and I know I messed up but I can mend it, anything you want, think or say, I'll do it. I'll cross world wonders for you, oceans, vegetation, deserts, anything"

"I don't think you can do that, Pedri" You were at the verge of tears "I was hurt by every action and word you said, I reached the top and while I know you messed up, you could've prevented it and simply start acting like you should have but you didn't. And I can't handle that"

"Please" You said after a few minutes "I think it's time for you to go" You said walking away

He couldn't watch you walk away once more so he did what he had been wanting to do. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him, in a hug.

"No"

"Let me go"

"No"

"Let me go"

"No" His grip got tighter on you as you were fighting and at the same time, enjoying being in your exlover's arms again.

His arms were your safe space and laying your head on his chest brought you peace but now all it brought back was hurt and pain.

Hurt and pain from the situation you were going through

"Pedro, please, let me go"

"I don't want you to leave me"

"I didn't left because I wanted to" Silence flowed in between the two of you as Pedri was crying into your neck "I did because you asked me to, you made me leave, you pushed me away when all I wanted and needed was you, to stay by your side and defend our relationship" You took a breath "None of that happened and now that I'm recovering from everything, I want you to leave, I want you to go away because I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me and just throws everything out of the window without listening first" You said with closed eyes and tears running down, he chocked on a sob

"I'm sorry" He cried "For everything. I should have done a lot of things and one of them was trust you, fight for you and our love but I'm here trying to fix it, to fix us, you were giving me your everything while I wasn't and now it's my turn to pay it back until we're all good. Please, I beg you, give me just one more chance to make everything right"

You looked into his eyes as he looked into yours "Please" He whispered with tears falling down his cheeks

You were going to hate yourself so much for this but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't want, need or love him because you did with all of your body. You were aching for him, for his kisses, for his cuddles, for his warmth, his laugh, his bad jokes, his company and love. You needed him. You wanted him. You loved him. He was the one for you.

"Please" You said shaking your head "Don't you ever do that again to me" You whispered "'Cus this is your last chance, González. I don't care if I'm dying for you, if you do it one more time, you can swear to all of your ancestors I will not take you back" Pedro's face changed to one of relief and he pulled you into his hold tightly this time tears of happiness coming out of his eyes.

"Te amo, I always will" He said crying, kissing your neck, ear, cheek, nose "Thank you so much for this opportunity, I'm very sorry, amor" He said resting his forehead against yours "You'll not regret this, I promise"

"I better not be" You smiled softly "But don't get too ahead of yourself, Pedrito. You need to work for everything back"

"I'll do. I don't care, I charmed you once, I can do it twice" You smiled softly "I missed you so much" He said hugging you once more, his face rested inside your neck as you finally felt at peace, breathing properly and safely in your lover's arms.

You were about to reply when two knocks came in and then someone entered

"Y/N, cariño. We are going to be late for the trip, weren't you so excited to see Venice's bea-Oh! Am I interrupting something?" You pulled away from Pedri shaking your head

"Para nada, Mason" (Not at all) You smiled softly drying your tears "We're good"

Mason, the guy, turned around to look at Pedri and then to you as you softly nod locking hands with Pedri

"Pedro, this is my friend, Mason. Mase, this is Pedri"

"The asshole?"

"¡Ostias!" (F*ck!)

"You were pretty much an asshole" You defended Mason with a soft smile "We can't lie" You shrug your shoulders "What's up?"

"Venice's beaches. Coming?" You nod softly

"We'll be there in a little while" You smiled

"Great!" Mason smiled "Also Pedro..." Pedri's big brown eyes went to Mason's "Hurt her again and I'll make sure you'll never be able to play football again for what's rest of your life"

"I won't"

"You better" Mason said "If I was straight I would've gone straight away after her to get her" You laughed softly

"He got your point, Mase. Give us a few minutes, we'll be downstairs quickly" You said and once the door was closed you smashed yourself against Pedri's lips "Te quiero" You said "A lot" You smiled "Please, don't let me go"

"Never again"

And with his heart full, he felt as if the stars had alligned just for him, you were his angel and he'll take good care of you now. He lefthe left the hotel. All the luck his friend wished for you and all the praying he did, were enough. His world is and will not be the same without your presence, your kindness, your laughter, your smile and your love in it, he hated himself for what he had done but thank God you give him another chance. This time, he was surely not going to lose you this time.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela @pedrileclerc @shineforeversf9 @shessthunderstoms @f4iryjjosh @judespoision @notsosurehritika @jajajhaahaha @urmotheris

[wintersoldiersoul]

Push Through

Summary: Your ADHD makes it difficult for you to focus like normal. When you spiral, Bucky helps you calm down.

A/N: Things about this may seem crazy and unrealistic but as someone with ADHD I can confirm that I have had this exact experience. (Minus the sexy supersolider to help me unfortunately) TW: Mental health, lack of sleep and eating, ADHD, burnout

The room was an absolute disaster. Clothes all over the floor, endless cups of coffee, water, and tea taking up space on the desk, and there you were at the center of it. Sitting on your floor with your laptop, typing away furiously. Being in college and an avenger was already extremely difficult and it was even harder while struggling with ADHD.

You had gotten home from a three day mission yesterday, so stressed about the first draft of your thesis paper that was due in two days that you didn’t even shower or change before taking your medication and getting to work. A half-eaten sandwich sat beside you but you didn’t even feel hungry. Your meds suppressed your appetite and had you focused on one thing and one thing only: your homework.

Bucky was away from the tower on his own mission and while you couldn’t wait for him to get home safely, you could hardly even think about it in your current frenzy. You hadn't slept since getting home, taking another pill every time you felt the last one wear off. When your medication started to subside, it made you feel horrible. Jittery, but also depressed and just generally like life had no meaning. It was an awful feeling, especially when you knew it was caused by medication that you needed for your brain to function normally.

The bedroom door creaked open but you didn’t even hear it. You didn’t look up from the words you were typing as your boyfriend’s body filled the frame. You usually greeted him by running into his arms but this time, it was like you didn’t even know he was there. And you practically didn’t. The quiet voice of your subconscious whispered to you to go greet him, but the dominant hyper-focus muted that thought into silence.

“Hellooo,” Bucky called playfully, whistling to you to try to get your attention. You still didn’t look up, grabbing the can of Redbull beside you and taking a sip. “Y/N!” He said, loudly.

You shook your head and finally tore your eyes away from the screen. “Oh my god, hi! You’re home! How was the mission? Are you hurt? Did it go well? Any scratches?” You rapidly fired questions at him, the combination of your medication, caffeine and lack of sleep causing you to be in a manic-like state.

Bucky knew about your struggles with ADHD. He knew how hard it was for you to function everyday like everyone else. He saw as you read a passage of your schoolwork over and over and over again because the words just turned to mush on the page. He had listened to you cry at your frustrations over why school was so hard and how you had to put so much brain power and effort into every little task. He knew how you hated the crash of your medication but you needed them to survive, a constant struggle that you had to pick every morning. Did you wanna be able to focus today and not be able to get out of bed after 4pm, or did you wanna be happy but not be able to do a single productive thing?

“Woah, there, take a breath,” he laughed. His eyes scanned the room, looking at the mess surrounding your frame. And he noticed that you were still in your uniform. “Hey, I thought you got home yesterday. Why are you still in your uniform?” 

You looked down at yourself, realizing that you had in fact not changed. “Oh, shit. I sat down to do my homework as soon as I got home and-” you stopped abruptly. “Wait, did you say yesterday?”

He looked at you, confusion clouding his expression. “Yeah. It’s Sunday, babe.”

“No, no, that’s impossible. I just got home I’ve only been working for…” you clicked your phone, displaying the date and time. “26 hours…”

“What did you just say? You’ve been working for 26 hours? Babe, have you eaten? Slept? Have you even gone to the bathroom? How did you not know it had been that long?” He was extremely concerned for you. He had seen you manically power through assignments before, but nothing like this.

“I…uh,” you ran your fingers through your hair, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that you had been working for so long. “Sandwich,” you pointed to the plate on the ground. 

Bucky walked over to the plate and stared at the barely eaten food. “Babe you had like, one bite of this. Is it your meds?”

You nodded. He knew that you often didn’t do simple things to take care of yourself when you took your meds. You would be so focused on the task at hand that you would usually set reminders every hour on your phone, telling you to take care of your basic human needs like eating or going to the bathroom. But you had been in such a frenzy after the mission that you didn’t do it this time.

“Honey, you look exhausted,” he smiled at you sadly. 

You shook your head. “Don’t feel tired. I need to keep working. I’ll go in the living room if you wanna unwind.” You grabbed your computer off the floor and started to walk out the doorway but were stopped by a large hand on your shoulder.

“No,” he grabbed your laptop and shut it, holding it over his head.

“Give it back, Bucky!” You began to jump, trying to reach the laptop. Bucky was considerably taller than you, meaning that it was a lost cause for you to try to get your computer from his grasp. He couldn’t help but laugh at how adorable you were, despite his extreme concern for your condition.

“Can’t do that, baby.” He placed the computer on the highest shelf in the room.

“Bucky, I need to keep going. My draft is due tomorrow!”

“And you’ve been working your ass off on it for the past 3 months. And the past 24 hours, alone. Your brain must be fried, baby, especially right after a mission.” He looked at you, eyes pleading for you to just take a break. Even if you felt fine from the extreme amount of medication and caffeine in your system, you were gonna crash soon. “How much medication did you take?” 

You thought back to how many times you felt it wear off and opened the bottle. Technically, you could take it every 4-6 hours. You weren’t being that reckless by using it so much, but of course you knew deep down that it wasn’t great to use it so much so frequently. “Uh… 5?” You admitted quietly.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head. “5 times? You've practically been hopped up on Concerta for an entire day straight?”

You didn’t know if the most recent dose was wearing off or if the pull away from the computer was causing it, but you could feel yourself crashing. Exhaustion tugged at your eyes and it fully hit you what you had been doing to yourself. You hated that this was how you were. People never understood how frustrating and debilitating ADHD truly was. There was no real “normal”. The medication made it easier for you to do work, but then you ended up like this. Your eyes filled with angry tears at yourself. “I hate this, Bucky! I hate this so much. I just wanna be able to function and do homework like normal!”

“Oh baby…” he pulled you into a hug. “I know it’s hard for you. I know I won’t ever truly understand how your brain works and what it feels like for you but I know you struggle. But you don’t just struggle, you fight, okay? You’re so smart, you’re the smartest person I know. The things you say, the way your mind works… god, I’m just so amazed by you, honey.”

“I hate the way my mind works!” You cried into him.

“I know baby, I know,” he stroked your hair as you cried, just wanting to bring you comfort. “But you don’t let it stop you. You don’t let your ADHD prevent you from doing and learning all of the things that you want to. You could have given up so many times but you didn’t. And that’s what counts, okay?”

You took a deep breath, calming yourself. You were so tired. And hungry.

“I tell you what, baby. Why don’t you take a shower and I’ll cook us some food. Then you can pick out any sweatshirt of mine that you like and we’ll relax and get some rest.”

His plan sounded so appealing but you still had work to do. “But Bucky, I-” 

“Shh. No more working tonight. You still have all day tomorrow to finish up. And it’s only a draft, it doesn’t have to be perfect. Don’t you think taking a look with fresh eyes tomorrow will be good for you?”

“I-” you opened your mouth to argue, but he was right. “Okay,” you sighed. “You’re right.” 

He kissed the top of your head. “Oh yeah. Go shower, babe. And wash your hair. Please,” he teased.

“I hate you,” you laughed as you made your way into the bathroom.

You look at a long shower, letting the hot water cleanse both your mind and body. When you walked back out into the living room, in Bucky’s sweatshirt, of course, your favorite meal was sitting on the table. “Oh baby, you didn’t have to do this! You could have just put in a frozen pizza or something.”

Bucky smiled at you. “Hey, I wanted you to have your favorite. Plus I need to make sure you eat enough to nourish yourself after being up for so long.”

After you ate and Bucky also showered, you got into bed. Your eyes were so heavy and you couldn’t even think about the paper anymore, just wanting the soft blanket of sleep to take over.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Always, my love. I’ll help you work more tomorrow, okay? And I’ll make you a deal. Every page you finish, I’ll make you cum,” he whispered seductively.

Within seconds, you were out cold, resting up for the long day of writing and other things that tomorrow had in store.

[superbattrash]

Do you have any Superbat fic recs? Just kind of stumbled on the ship and am already excited by the notion.

Hiiiii sweetheart! Welcome to the bright and sunny side of superbat shipping ~ *blows dust off my laptop that I haven’t turned on in a month* oh gross, there are actual spiderwebs on it... I'm so sorry, Maggie. Ahem, first of all. Any and all fics by these talented people: @frownyalfred, @superbatdisasterblog, @susiecarter, @sassyresacon1990 (I know I'm forgetting a lot of people but it's been a while okay)

This is just handful of my ultimate favs, if you need more I'm always more than happy to go through my bookmarks!

tell all the truth (but tell it slant) by susiecarter (rated M)

It takes a while for Batman and Superman to work things out, once Clark comes back from the dead. Pretending to date each other in order to explain why Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent are in the same place so often? Doesn't help as much as you might think.

Condersing Conditions by LeCadavre_1904 (rated E)

Before Bruce and Clark fall into bed for the first time, Bruce has an unusual condition.

Clark is as obliging as always.

don't push me (cause I am close to the edge) by LinguisticJubilee (rated G)

Kara huffs out a breath in frustration. “Every Kryptonian has a heartsong. And they’re beautiful, but when you listen to one on its own it feels like something is missing. It’s like...they have something like this too, right?” She gestures outward impatiently, and Bruce forces himself not to flinch at her casual use of they. “Only they have words written down instead.” 

“Soulmates,” Clark says, his voice strained. 

The word hits Bruce like a bullet through the lung. He keeps his face perfectly relaxed, his heartbeat calm and regular, as he realizes (too late, he's always too late) that he should have expected this all along.

fallin' for him was like fallin' from grace by Resacon1990 (rated T)

“But Bruce isn’t gay?” Clark points out, and there’s an awkward moment of everyone clearing their throats and avoiding Clark’s eyes until he turns to stare at Bruce. “Are you?”

Bruce blinks for a moment before offering a sheepish smile. “I’m not… not?” he offers, and Clark feels his brain just about short-circuit at the news.

Or, five times Clark finds himself falling for Bruce, and the one time he does something about it

No Church in the Wild by TheResurrectionist (not rated but OUCH ANGST)

"I'll have a contingency plan."

"If you're the first face he sees, you'll need it."

Bruce brings Clark back by himself.

smokin' in the boys' room - by The Ressurectionist (not rated but both blood and dicks, so rated Misha HAPPY) (I cannot tell you how many times I've reread this one GUUUHHH)

Bruce Wayne -- billionaire playboy, owner of, at most, three brain cells -- beaten up at his own charity gala. Bruce Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises out of nepotism and dumb luck, whose business wasn’t touched by corruption purely because of incompetence -- Bruce Wayne, airheaded and still generous, still kind, bloody in a stall and trying to hide it. 

His hand clenched on the stall door, crumpling it between his fingers. His eyes weren’t burning yet, but barely. 

“Who did this to you?”

I Would I Might Forget That I Am I by susiecarter (rated T)

Clark Kent woke up, ate breakfast, went to work—the same way he did every day. Ordinary.

Except for the part where Superman hadn't been seen in at least a week and nobody knew why, Lois was acting kind of weird, and Bruce Wayne was insisting that Clark was the only reporter he'd allow to run a feature on the crashed alien ship in the park, since Wayne Enterprises had been granted control of the site. And the way Clark felt every time Wayne looked at him a little too long definitely wasn't helping.

But it was fine. Clark was normal, there was nothing wrong with him, and everything was fine.

Satisfaction Brought It Back by slippin_into_dakrness and SpiritsFlame. (rated G) (This one is my comfort comfort comfort read!!!)

Bruce always thought that Superman's cute shtick of rescuing cats from trees was a bid for publicity—until a confrontation with a magic user leaves him stuck as a cat. He learns how mistaken he was when Superman not only rescues him, but takes him back to a small Metropolis apartment. The opportunity to learn more about the alien can't be ignored, but is Bruce ready for everything he will learn about someone he has only ever regarded with distrust and dislike?

[writingsfromhome]

The Ex-Text

Prologue (the text)

A/N: warning that this fic does include cheating. I’m trying something new with this format, just a road trip story which is one of my favourite tropes everr. Plus a lot of drama. It was too short to split into parts but I liked the idea of some logues lol. Main should be out soon. Hope y’all like it too. <3

Prologue (text) / Main (ex) / Epilogue (what’s next)

————————————————————

YN:

“He’s cheating on me,” I spit into the phone. My best friend gasps. “I saw him! He’s fucking cheating on me Taz what do I do? Do I confront him? Should I wait ‘til he gets home?”

“Where are you?” She asks.

I’m standing in front of the glass window to the bar that my boyfriend sits at. He’s facing a woman in black, with his hand on her knee, and a smile brightening his face. I blink, my focus going to the reflection in the glass. I look back at myself, dazed and heartbroken and disheveled.

“I’m-“ my voice cracks. I was not going to fucking cry here. I sniffle and move down the street to a parkette, a bench warmed by the sun invites me to sit down. “I’m at this patch of grass that’s a pathetic excuse for a park. Taz I don’t know what to do!”

“You don’t have to do anything right now. Where are you exactly? Let me come to you! Or come over. Don’t do anything rash-“

“I want to,” I sniffle. I wanted to, but all the energy had been drained from my body as soon as I sat down. “I was planning my future with this fucker. I…I thought he was going to propose soon! I caught him looking at rings the last time we were out remember? Do you…d’you think they were for her? Oh my god I’m such an idiot Ican’tbelieveIdidn’tseeit!”

It wasn’t British of me at all. At all. But I hang my head and sob. I couldn’t hold it in, my future crumbles before my eyes and all I can do is cry.

“Fuck’s sake,” I hear Taz say. “I’m coming to get you.”

I don’t remember much of what happened after that. How long I sat there until Taz found me—she’s tracked my phone. She called us a cab and taken me to her place where I crash on the couch for three days. Ethan had called and texted me, growing progressively worried. Until he showed up at Taz’s and her fiance had kept him out.

I always wanted to be one of those girls who was strong and tough, who could tell a guy who she’d been dating for nearly two years where he can shove it when he cheated on her.

Instead I was the girl who curled up even tighter when she heard his voice at the door. When he shouted her name over her best friend’s fiance’s body (that was built like a brick, I knew he wasn’t getting past).

I was the girl who snuck into the flat when I knew he was gone to work to get everything out with the help of friends.

It was two weeks before I could face him. He’d apologized, tried to give excuses but I was so numb by then I’d just let him ramble before giving an excuse about having to go and leaving him behind. I never quite got the closure I wanted but I was okay with stuffing it into the dark parts of my mind and never thinking about it again.

That is until 10 months later an invitation shows up in my inbox.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I say at the notification. My colleague in the next cubicle turns his head and I duck down. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

I click the email subject * Ethan and Van Make it Forever *

If you’re reading this, you mean a lot to us!

Join us on October 17 for a small (medium) celebration of love and commitment. No gifts, just your sexy selves.

Glitter rains down on loop over the invitation while dreamy clouds move on loops from side to side in the back. My own thoughts loop: is this a fucking joke?

“Y/N?”

“Yes?” I look up over the cubicle to where my name’s being called. My manager points to the room he’s in.

“We need minutes?”

“Oh…” I glance at my growing inbox. I didn’t actually have the time to lend a hand but I didn’t know how to say no. “Be there in a minute.”

My colleague beside me glances over and shakes his head. I shrug my shoulders and take my laptop in to spend the next hour in excruciating pain as I take pointless notes on a meeting I have no clue about. By the end of it my fingers are cramping and my inbox had doubled.

I had forwarded the email to my best friend by then and when I get back to my desk, collapsed in my seat, I read all of her 13 texts. They weren’t family friendly and they definitely make me feel better. I wasn’t crazy. My ex who cheated on me had invited me to his wedding.

My phone vibrates, Taz. But instead it’s a number I’d only ever gotten bad news from. One-time bad news I’d dubbed the ex-text. I open it:

Did you get the invite too?

•••••

Harry:

The invitation wakes me up, and I untangle myself from the warm body beside me to get my phone. Apparently I’d missed a phone call too.

I open the email and can’t help the laugh that comes out. Obviously nothing is funny, it’s unbelievable.

“Hm?” The woman beside me stirs, but my eyes are glued to the invitation. What a bitch, I can’t believe she had the audacity to invite me to her wedding!

I remember it so vividly, my girlfriend of years telling me she wasn’t in love with me anymore. That she met someone new. I’d asked how long, I had to ask again before she told me. Since the spring. So I had been walking around and living my life for over three months thinking my girlfriend loved me, that we were soulmates and all the other bullshit.

I couldn’t be depressed, I lived that next month with a drink attached to my lips at any given moment. It ruined me. It ruined my whole life. And then I got angry, that was when the drunk phone calls and late night messages began. I found out the person who replaced me. I stalked him on the internet and when I found out he had a girlfriend, it was my lucky day.

I’d texted my ex then, hoping this piece of news would be the end of that relationship. She’d come crawling back to me. Instead she had said, I know. He’s breaking up with her he just needs some time. Harry nothing’s changed, we’re not going to get back together.

I put on my detective hat, somehow through some intense stalking and help from a friend I’d gotten this stranger’s number. Then I’d texted her the screenshot, the photos on my ex’s private page of her and him. I was dropping a bomb on this random stranger but she needed to know. That’s how I justified it.

It was over a year since this all came about and everyone in my life expected me to be over it. Including my ex. I text her, hoping her number was still the same.

Are you really inviting me to your wedding with him?

She responds immediately, I thought we were at a place where I could. That you could be happy for me? It’s been so long.

She was delusional. How could I ever be happy for me after she left me like that, blindsided and broken hearted. The only conversations between us since then were when she wished me happy birthday. We never spoke.

Did he invite the girl he left behind too? I go with snarky, my favourite tone.

No ofc not. But are you coming? You can bring a + one.

I’ll see

Hope to see you there. xx

She really was delusional. A part of me wanted to show up, prove to her or me or the universe I could get on with my life. But I also didn’t want to be in this alone. I put my skills to work and an hour or so later, after the girl I woke up with had gone home and I put my empty coffee mug in the sink I text her. The stranger whose life I had imploded.

Did you get the invite too?

[fablesrose]

Ch 3 - The Second David Job

Masterlist 

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Ford!Reader

Description: Part two, the season finale. Y/n finally learns what Nate does for work and aids in the payback this time.

Words: 3049

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was odd, I hadn’t heard from Nate almost the whole time I was staying in LA. I had tried to call him a couple of times, but when he did pick up, the phone calls were brief, he wouldn’t tell me where he was, and just seemed secretive and dodgy. More than usual at least. 

Maggie was busy helping at the museum, and with the Blackpoole exhibit being set up, she was working overtime. I mostly stayed at her apartment, working on my laptop that I brought with me. Luckily this project that I was working on was coming to a close which should leave me free for the opening of the exhibit and then flying back to Boston. As nice as it was here in LA, I missed home. Realistically there was nothing keeping me here, I did love art, growing up with both Nate and Maggie as guardians, but I didn’t need to stay for the exhibit. I guess I kept expecting Nate to call me. I wanted to help him. I guess this client is here too though.

I got a call one afternoon from Maggie. 

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey y/n, can you take a break from your work today?”

I looked at the clock, I had been working for a while, “Yeah, I can do that. What’s going on?”

“I just got a call from Professor Sinclair asking to catch up, and I don’t really want to go alone, I feel like there might be something going on.”

“You want me to either crash or stalk you two on your date?” I couldn’t hide the displeasure from my voice.

“It’s not a date. Besides, he was much more into you when we met him last.” She had a slight tease in her voice that I scoffed at.

“I call bull. He didn’t call me to ask to catch up.” I felt my stomach twist a bit. Figures he would ask my hot divorced aunt out.

“I don’t think he has your number, y/n.”

“Touche.”

“Please? Just sit a few tables away and if you get uncomfortable there’s a couple of shops right around the corner that I know you’ll love. You can bail at any time.”

I sighed, “Fine, but you owe me. You treat me more like a cousin, or a sister than a niece, you know that?”

“You love me, see you there.”

“No comment.”

I walked in a little after Maggie, choosing a spot a couple tables away, behind Adam so I could see Maggie’s face. I was close enough that I could hear them if I wanted to, but far enough that I could tune out as well. I ordered water since I didn’t think I would be there long. Maggie was right though, the surrounding stores did look appealing. 

I watched Maggie look Adam over, then make eye contact and wink at me when he wasn’t looking. Weird. I had no idea what that meant. I tuned into their conversation to see what was going on. 

“We’re not going to talk about art all afternoon are we?” Maggie asked Adam.

All afternoon? I was definitely not staying that long. 

Adam answered no.

“Good, that’s all my ex husband wanted to talk about. That was so tedious.” She said it with a smile.

I frowned. I knew they had their problems, that’s why they got divorced, but she never spoke about Nate like that. Especially to a virtual stranger. What is going on?

“Listen,” Maggie placed her hand over Adam’s on the table and I could see him stiffen, “I want to thank you. I haven’t dated much since my marriage broke up.”

I groaned. Of course she conned me, it was obviously a date. I couldn’t stand this much longer and started to gather my things. When I looked up she had forceful eye contact with me that told me to stay put.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Adam replied.

“No, don’t be. He was obsessive, perfectionist, controlling.”

“He must have had some good qualities.”

Maggie scoffed, “No, not even in bed.”

I sputtered in my water. Gross, I did not want to hear this. I begged Maggie for mercy across the room. 

“But worst of all, he completely forgot that I gave him that same button camera for Christmas three years ago.” She smiled and waved me over.

I was so confused, but got up and joined them. Adam turned around and saw me, his face defeated.

“Hey y/n.”

I nodded, “Adam.” 

Maggie marched over to a van in the parking lot and I followed quickly after. She opened it to reveal the airport receptionist, the Italian woman, the second David seller, and Nate, all sitting together.

“I can explain.”

The drive to the random mansion was dead silent, but once we arrived, Maggie and Nate started arguing. I figured I would get my chance to rip him apart afterwards, so I didn’t join in yet. I stood in the doorway glancing between them arguing and the others grouped at the stairs. 

“I feel used.” The guy who I thought was named Adam said.

I turned a bit towards them, “Same.”

Maggie stormed outside with Nate close behind, “It’s going great,” he said as he walked out the door. 

The former Italian woman, now British, replied, “we can tell!”

The house was eerily quiet once the yelling was gone.

“So,” I looked at the four people in front of me, “are you this team Nate mentioned for his consulting thing he was doing? If that is what was going on? Or whatever?”

The young man who posed as the second David seller spoke up first, “yeah, that’s us. He didn’t lie to you about that, just the means of which we do it. I’m Hardison, resident computer guy. Thanks for the help with the supplement lawsuit thing I had to do.”

That made me smile, “Glad to hear I was of any help at all.”

The British woman approached me next, her hand outstretched, “Sophie, actor, art thief, grifter, take your pick.” She smiled with a confidence I could never hope to achieve when I shook her hand. 

Hardison introduced Parker as a thief before the last member stood from the stairs and stepped up to me. 

“And I’m Eliot, official title is retrieval specialist, these guys call me a hitter.” When he wasn’t acting as Adam, his voice was a bit gruffer, a little deeper. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, his long hair down. I noticed without his glasses just how blue his eyes were.

“Well, it seems you might have some other talents too. Those soup recipes were a lifesaver.”

His lips quirked up toward a smile and I thought I saw some color in his cheeks before he ducked his head in a nod and went to sit down again. 

Nate and Maggie came back and she came up to me, tears still in her eyes, “did… did you know about Sam’s treatment?”

I looked between her, Nate, and the rest of the team, “I had an inkling. They wouldn’t pay for it right?” I looked at Nate to see the slight nod, “Who do you think helped Nate do the research on it?” My lip quivered thinking back. How happy we were that we might have found something that would help, but it didn’t make a difference. I was in the middle of a project, across the country when they called. Sam died.

Nate came and placed a hand on my shoulder before pulling me into a hug, Maggie joining shortly after. 

It was decided to regroup the next day to go over the plan. 

“And that, that’s the plan.” Nate placed a final push pin with string attached to the board with all the designs.

“You actually expect this to work?” Maggie was clearly skeptical.

“No no, you’re supposed to say ‘wow, that’s just crazy enough to work.’” Hardison replied. 

“Incredibly, chance does seem to bend itself to his bizarre machinations” Sophie commented with a relaxed air. 

Parker leaned next to Maggie’s ear, “that’s his super power.” She sniffed her shoulder as she pulled away.

Maggie looked over to me and I just shrugged. 

“Okay, now, do you have what we need?” Nate asked Maggie. 

“I have to check museum inventory.”

“Oh, easy.” 

Hardison typed his way on his laptop before turning it toward Maggie. 

“This is confidential, you’re not reading my emails are you?”

Hardison quickly responded, “no, no,” before nodding at Nate that he did. 

I piped up, “I was right, you do a lot more exciting things on your computer than I do.”

Hardison smiled at me before Maggie confirmed.

“This is the only thing big enough for what you need.” She turned the laptop toward Nate. 

“Great. Okay, now how soon can you get that in the restoration room?”

“Now that’s not my department. You have to convince the museum director Darien Lloyd to pull it from the display.”

“Okay.”

“Nate?”

“Hmm?”

“You can’t just make somebody do what you want them to do.”

There was a pause before Eliot said, “Whoa!”

“That’s what we do, I mean…” Hardison laughed.

“You’re adorable,” Parker said while stroking Maggie’s hair.

I had to admit, “That’s a bit naive, even for you Maggie. Our society is built on persuasive techniques and making people do things, for various reasons.”

Everyone just looked at me and nodded as I shrugged. 

We quickly got going to set up the con. Maggie, Sophie, and Parker were at the museum while Nate, Harison, Eliot, and I were at the mansion watching and listening through cameras and comms. We watched and listened as there was a handoff between Parker and Maggie which led to Maggie subtly pushing the director towards the Egyptian room, all while laying clues for the con on him. 

Sophie then dropped hints about the curse surrounding the sarcophagus while posing as a museum director from Cairo.

Eliot leaned over to me, “Good call about the curse by the way.”

Hardison concurred, “yeah, look, he’s already scared, he’s looking up all the places the sarcophagus was before there, lots of dead people. D-E-D dead people.”

Nate and Eliot both spelled dead correctly.

“I was throwing a little style up, just a little bit. A little style. I know how to spell dead, damn it. I can steal a bank, I can spell dead.”

I laughed, “Thanks, but I think it really comes down to Sophie and Maggie’s setup here, along with your expert hacking skills with those articles, Hardison.”

“You are a flatterer, woman. Are you sure this guy raised you?”

I shouldered Nate next to me, “unfortunately.”

I could feel his glare, but I just watched as Maggie hit the point home talking about the supposed fungus that surrounded Egyptian artifacts that were claimed to be cursed. 

The boys left shortly after to move the sarcophagus, leaving me at the mansion. I looked over the plans a couple of more times while they were gone. Maggie stayed at the museum while everyone else came back. They got to working on something when Nate came into the planning area where I was. 

“So what do you think?”

“I don’t know yet, I guess we’ll just have to see how this plays out.”

“No,” Nate stepped up next to me, “I mean, about all of this, the whole thing.”

I looked up at him, “I wish you would have told me. Why didn’t you? Did you think I wasn’t going to approve or something?”

“I just didn’t want you wrapped up in it.”

I hummed at him. “Well I think you are doing some pretty cool things, I’d be happy to be a part of it. Not that I could help much.”

“Maybe.”

There was some commotion behind us with the rest of the group arguing a bit before it fell quiet. I started walking towards the entry where they were, “It seems like you have a good team here though. I’m glad you have them, that you have each other.”

“They are the best.”

“That’s good…” I stared at the portrait they had hung on the mantle, “what is that?”

Nate looked at the picture of himself, just much older, “Don’t ask.”

“Okay.”

The next day was when the exhibit opened. Everyone had their roles and places for the day. Now, just to put it in motion. 

Nate and I entered the museum arm in arm when Blackpoole and Sterling approached. 

“Well well well, what the hell are you doing here?” 

Nate held up two tickets, “Well I bought some tickets for me and my niece. It’s open to the public.”

“I don’t think…” Sterling started to say, glancing between the two of us.

“Of course, enjoy yourselves.” Blackpoole let us pass.

After looking at the art for a while, there was loads of commotion and chaos, just as planned. I let Nate go to the roof while I rendezvoused  with the others. We watched as he dropped down from the skylight. The security system activated, locking us in. 

“Let’s go to work.”

I helped them complete the task before they slipped me back outside in the crowd where I found Maggie.

“Maggie, what’s going on? I got separated from Nate in the confusion, have you seen him?”

Sterling was right next to us along with Blackpoole and the museum director. Sterling stared at me accusingly, but didn’t say anything. 

I followed them inside the building, once we reached the closed exhibit doors Sterling said, “This is your last chance Maggie. Come clean.” He looked over to me, “you too y/n.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The doors finally opened to reveal Nate standing in a spotlight in front of the two Davids, in their case.

“The two Davids,” Blackpoole giggled, “Thank God.”

“Got you Nate,” Sterling said. 

“Yes, that was the whole point,” Nate replied. 

“What do you mean?”

“You know all that chasing me around? ‘Don’t let Nate Ford near the two Davids, how’s Nate Ford going to get the two Davids?’ I wasn’t the mastermind on this one, Sterling… I’m the bait.”

He counted down from three for the lights to come on and reveal the walls, empty from all the art that previously decorated it. 

Blackpoole broke down in disbelief and horror. There was over $150 million worth of art that was missing. And he was responsible for all of it. It was insured by IYS which would cause a major hit to his career and company. 

“Well done,” Sterling had to admit. 

Blackpoole grabbed a gun off of a guard’s belt and pointed it at Nate’s head, “where are they?! Where are they?!”

“Nate!” I yelled, I took a step forward, but Maggie grabbed my hand. 

“Clear the room!” Sterling demanded. A guard pulled the two of us away, both of us scared for him. 

We both had comms, which helped us hear the conversation better. Nate told Sterling the terms of getting the art back for destroying Blackpoole. Sterling agreed, almost too eagerly. 

Blackpoole pointed the gun at him “No. Sterling, you work for me,” He swung back towards Nate, “IYS is my company!”

Nate responded immediately, “Can’t let personal feelings affect policy. You have a responsibility to shareholders. No exceptions.” He threw Blackpoole’s own words back at him. Nate took the gun out of his hands, “I have lost my only son. Do you really think you scare me? Huh?”

Maggie squeezed my hand and I squeezed back. 

Blackpoole came rushing towards us, “Maggie, well, you understand.”

She let go of my hand, stepped up to him, and gave him a wicked right hook to the face. I stepped up and kicked him once while he was down.

Maggie smiled at me with a thoughtful look, “screw therapy, that felt really good.”

She walked off, and after exchanging a few words with Sterling, Nate came up, hooked arms with me and we both walked out the front door.

Later, that day the three of us were sitting in the empty exhibit room, waiting for the call. 

“Are you going to stop now?” Maggie asked Nate. 

“I don’t know.”

“Interesting.”

Nate hummed in a question.

“You admitting you don’t know something.”

Nate’s phone rang, and he answered it, listened then hung up. “It’s done. Blackpoole’s out.”

“Time to return the artwork?” I asked.

“I think so,” he replied. 

He lifted the seat cover we were sitting on to reveal an opening down to the restoration room. We all climbed down. 

When I got close to the bottom, Eliot grabbed my hand with one hand on my waist to guide me, “Careful sweetheart.” 

I grabbed his hand a little tighter and felt myself blush at the nickname. 

We admired the art surrounding us before leaving the room from behind the sarcophagus.

Nate and Sophie explained how they would seal and replace the floor tiles and then move the art to the loading dock to make it look like they came from the outside. 

Maggie approached Nate, “You are not the man I married.”

I quickly decided I didn’t want to be in the middle of that conversation and dashed off behind the others. 

After we had finished the work of moving the artwork, Parker and I helped oversee the sealing of the floor. We gathered at the back of the museum, clearly about to part ways.

I looked at each of them, “Are you guys gonna keep doing this? Am I ever gonna see you all again?”

They looked at each other for a moment before Eliot stepped up to me, “uh, we don’t know. Hope so.” He touched my elbow gently before pulling away.

I smiled at him before looking at the others, “Good enough for me… I guess this is bye.”

Hardison and Eliot nodded.

“I guess so,” Parker said. 

I nodded once more before stepping into Maggie’s car and driving back to her apartment. 

The next two weeks were mundane after that. I finished the LA project and flew back home to Boston. It was reaching into that third week afterwards that I got a phone call from Nate.

“Hey, I’m lookin’ for a place… Got anything in mind?”

Tags: @isoldeahlstrom

[moneymasnn]

Can you write something Where y/n has a fear of plane and mason wants to take her on vacation

Hold my hand| Mason Mount

Notes: (2.6k words) I wrote this really randomly within the last couple of hours so it might be kinda shit but im trying to work my way thought old requests!! I also kinda have a fear of planes so I thought this was cute! Requests are open if anyone has any ideas for a mason fic. Enjoy xoxoxoxo

Blurb: One where you have a fear of planes, but with your boyfriend wanting to take you on holiday, he convinces to by promising he will hold your hand.

Warnings: Mild swearing, some small hints to smut, just mason being a dirty minded boy

“But it's Greece y/nnnnn.”

Mason, your boyfriend exhales a long breath, your laptop strapped to his hip as he backs you into a corner in the kitchen.

“Think about the sun and the sea and me.” His lips lift into a smirk but it doesn't take long for the smile to fade when he realizes you're having none on it.

“The planes like three hours long, so we can watch endgame the whole flight.” His eyebrows are raised but still no word from your lips.

“Think about all the cute insta worthy pictures i'll take of you.” This however, mason notices the small crease in your eyes.

“It's not that I don't want to mason, I really want to. I just can't get on that jumbo death thing.” Mason furrs his eyebrows at your silly little nickname, he was about to argue his point more until you wiggled out of his grip, ducking under his arm and making way to the fridge.

Mason sighs, placing the laptop on the kitchen counter as he walks behind you, peering over your shoulder to also inspect what was in the fridge.

But before you could change the conversation and ask him if he wanted to order take out, a shrek left your lips when he had placed his hands on your waist, turning you around to face him.

“I wanna take my girlfriend on holiday.”

You sympathize with him, you want to go on holiday too. But you know you won't be able to put one step on a plane. The fear started when you were little, you had always been deathly afraid. You didn't go on many holidays as a child so it's not like you had ever gotten used to getting on a plane everyone once and a while. When you were eighteen and supposed to go on your first girls holiday you couldn't do it, you stormed off the plane like an idiot, crying as you watched your friends take off on the runway.

That tragic incident was when you were eighteen, you were now twenty three. And you still haven't attempted it.

“What about sleeping tablets?”

“No.”

“Boat?”

“Hard pass.”

“What if I hold your hand?”

“Mas-.”

“I'll protect you. Nothing bad will happen I swear.”He cares, he really does care. “And if the plane crashes you won't even have time to hate me because you'll be dead.” He shrugs, way to ruin the moment mase.

“I want you to at least try.”

“I just can’t mason, you have no idea how much I want to go on holiday with you.”

“Then try. Try for me.” He pleads.

You throw your head back, tears starting to fill your eyes as mason immediately wraps his arm around your shoulder worried if he's pushed you too far.

“I'm sorry mase.” You gently try into his shoulder, your fists clinging to a handful of his jumper.

“It's okay, it's okay. I'm not mad that you're scared y/n, everyone has fears, but you could at least try.” He pulls away from your puffy eyes.

“I want to, mase. I'm just scared I'll embarrass myself in front of your family.”

Mason gently places a kiss to your forehead before pulling away.

“Let me book the tickets, come with us, and if you get on the plane and change your mind i'll walk straight off the plane with you y/n.”

“I don't know if i can-'' You hated disappointing him but i couldn't help it, the idea of sitting on a plane sent shivers up your spine.

“I know you can, I'll be with you every second of the way. And even if you get to the airport and realize you can't do it i wont be mad, i'll be proud that you tried.”

“Okay.” You mumble, with a small sniff.

“Okay?” He repeats, a small smile on his face as you watch his eyes light up.

“Okay, I'll come to Greece with you.” You say with a small smile.

Mason's arms immediately go to your waist as he lifts you into the air.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You giggle as he places you down back to the ground, his hands on your cheeks as he houses every inch of your face.

“Oh we're going to have the best time ever! I promise you won't regret this.”

 He says in between kissing you before he finally places his lips on your, his hand slipping down your neck so he can pull you close.

“I love you.” He mumbles on your lips. “I need to call mum, she's going to be so happy!” 

And with that he sprints down the hallway, his phone glued to his ear as he starts to call his mum.

You just stood in the same position he left you in, your eyes grazing to the still open laptop with the booking flights still pulled up. You really hoped you wouldn't end up backing out.

There's nothing like the sound of an alarm ringing at 4am. The suns coming up and the birds are chirping. The sort of calm sleepy morning that should make you want to crawl back under the covers. But not when you're going on holiday.

Such a bittersweet feeling, walking around in your joggers and a jumper, drinking cocktails at 7am. Time doesn't really apply in an airport.

“Morning baby.” Mason rolls over, firmly placing his body on yours as his hand comes down to squeeze your hips.

“Did you sleep well?” He asked.

“Yeah.” Not at all.

“Excited?”

“Totaly.” yeah that one didnt sound as convincing.

Mason laughs as he gently sucks the inside of your neck and then up to under your ear. 

He pulls back to look at your face, he can't hide his smile as he brushes some hair out of your forehead.

“Just remember, you're not being held captive y/n. If you really feel like you can't do this just say-”

“I can do this.” You can't do this. Not one bit, but you're scared if he carries on telling you you can change your mind you might actually change it.

“Let's go to Greece baby!” Mason smirks, pulling you up by your arm dragging you to the shower.

After a quick shower you chuck on some black shorts and a crop top but place masons hoodie over to the top. It was cold in England in the morning but you wanted your outfit to be comfortable and flexible so when you landed in Greece you wouldn't be hot.

There was a shallow knock on the door, mason was still in the bathroom so you pulled it open to see his mother standing in the hallway.

“Morning y/n dear.”

“Morning.” You whisper back, although everyone else that had stayed over last night was probably already up and getting ready. 

Mason's family stayed the night so we could all travel to the airport quicker in the morning, instead of them having to drive all the way from Portsmouth at three am.

“Was just wanting to see if you wanted tea? Or a coffee.” She smiles, she could sense the nerves coming off you from last night, she only wanted to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

“A glass of wine maybe?” You joke, she laughs with you before flashing one of her usually motherly smiles at you. “Could I have a tea please, I'm sure mason will have one too.”

“Is he up?” She peers her head over your shoulder as mason comes up behind you.

“I'm up mum.”

“Good we leave in half an hour darling. Oh y/n please make sure he's packed everything, he forgot his passport last year.” she tuts at him before laughing and dashing back down the stairs.

He smiles as you turn to face him, “You forgot your passport?”

“In my defense I left it on the kitchen counter, not like I forgot to pack it.” He shrugs, walking back into the bathroom.

You were about to close the door when you heard the quietest of pitter patters running to your door.

“Aunty y/n/n are you awake!” You smile as summer comes colliding with the door, pushing it open as wide as he can, running onto your arms.

“Morning sunny!” You coo at her.

“Morning!” She smiles at you, but her smile fades when she notices the french plait in your hair. “Can you do that to my hair?” She pouts at you.

“Of course go get the hair brush from uncle mase, he's in the bathroom.” You smile at her, putting her down as he runs into the bathroom, she immediately returns with the hairbrush and a hair band, sitting on the end of your bed quietly as you brush through her hair.

“Aunty y/n/n? Uncle massey said you don't like planes, whyyyy?” She asked you as she plays with the corner of the blanket under her legs.

“I just find them a bit scary, but don't worry you'll be fine.” You didn't want to make her scared either, since she was a child.

“I'm not scared. I'm a big girl.”

“Oh really?” You smile at her, tying the band around the end of her hair and putting in some hairspray for her so it holds in.

She smiles as she jumps on the bed then into your arms, “You can sit next to me aunty y/n/n if you get scared. I can hold your hand!” She smiles at you, but you didn't have time to answer her when she was running out of your room after being called by her dad.

“See, if summer can do it you can do it.” Mason smiles, his arms wrapping around your waist.

“Shut up.” You giggle at him.

“I'm proud of you, thank you for trying.”

You inhale a deep breath, kissing the red patch on his nose before pulling away to grab your bag.

You went down stairs in the kitchen to drink the tea Debbie had made you before you all piled into the taxi ready to take you to the airport.

Mason noticed how unusually quiet you were in the car, but a silent grab of your fingers in his as he places a quick kiss to the back of your hand was surprising enough to calm your nerves for most of the car ride.

When you got there you placed your bags through security, you decided to take a walk in duty free, buying a book to hopefully keep you distracted on the journey.

“I hope you're not planning on reading a book instead of watching Endgame with me?” Mason smiled, his head placed on your shoulder as he peers over at the blurb of the book you were about to buy.

You buy the book holding it in one hand as your other hand is firmly grasped in masons. The family makes way to the small gate, all ready to board the jet.

You expected the nerves to kick in right about now, right when you show your passport and your boarding pass but nope. Just excitement, excitement to spend the next two weeks with your boyfriend and his family.

You notice masons gaze never leave you as you walk down the tunnel and outside to the steps on the unusually small plane.

You hated that it had to be a jet and not a plane.

“Do you want a window or the outside seat?” mason asks you.

“The outer one.” You didn't want to be by the window and be constantly reminded that you were flying through the sky.

You had made it on the plane and into the seat, that in itself was an achievement 

Once everyone was seated and ready on the plane you faced the front, you hand gripping masons as he places a slight kiss to your temple.

“Ready?”

“Not really.”

“Want to get off?” He asks.

“Nope.”

Mason smiled at your answer, “Do I need to get summer to hold your hand?”

You smile up at him, “I like it when you hold it.” you smirk at him, mason takes the chance to peek over his shoulder, most of his family were in conversation so he turns back to you with a smirk before leaning into your ear.

“Want to know what I'm thinking about?”

“One hundred different escape plans to get off this plane?” You look up at him but he just smiles and bites his lip, only then do you realize his intention.

“More like a hundred different ways I can make you moan in the toilet.” His lips purse up in a smirk as he subtly lifts his hips to adjust the uncomfortableness of his hard on rubbing against his joggers.

“Behave.” You slap his chest, but you cant help but break out in laughter at his stupid little actions.

“Y/n.” He asks quietly. “Not to like worry you or anything, but the planes kinda getting ready for taking off.”

You peer over him out the window to notice the plane had been moving and now was firmly settled on the runway. You had been so busy talking to mason you didn't even feel the plane start to move.

The plane starts to move up the runway as you scrabble to hold masons hand again. He smiles down at you before placing another kiss to your head, leaning back in his seat.

“Are you okay aunty y/n/n?!” Summer shouts from a few rows behind you.

You hear mason giggle next to you as you turn to smile at the little girl, promising her you were okay.

As the plane starts to take off in the air, mason's hand never leaves yours, neither does his lips with an occasional kiss to your head, cheek and temple.

“Y/n. You need to let go, I need a wee.” Mason sympathetically says. Waving your sweaty and connected hands in the air, you hadn't let go of him for the last twenty minutes.

“Unless you wanna come with me?” His brow cocks up again as you release his hand.

“You're like a horny teenager.” You scowl at him.

“What can I say? You're just too gorgeous to resist.” He smiles, placing a kiss to your lips before he runs down the aisle as quick as he can to the toilet.

You take the time of masons diserparance to roll over into his seat, deciding to look out the window, the sun was coming up and the sunset looked beautiful. You pulled your phone out to take a picture before summer came running over, crawling onto your lap.

“Are you still scared?”

“Not one bit.” You smile at her, brushing back a few hairs that were too short and had fallen out of her plait.

“Did uncle massey hold your hand?” She questions.

“He did.” You smile at her before noticing mason's presence as he towers over you.

“Not fair you took my seat.” He pouts, before sitting down. 

Summer runs back off to her nan and mason gently taps your shoulder, pulling you out of your gaze from the window. 

“I got you something.” Her smile, throwing a packet of m&ms onto your lap. “Thank you so much for getting over your fear for me. I'm about to make this the best week of your life.”

You smile up at him, connecting your lips in what you intentions were, a quick kiss.

Mason pushes his face into yours, his hand connecting with your cheek as the other one finds its way up your jumper to caress the naked skin on your waist.

He pushes his luck by sliding his tongue along yours, you were about to back away when you were interrupted.

“There are children on board!” Lewis shouts at the both of you, causing mason to giggle into your mouth before pecking your soft lips again and pulling away.

“Mase? I love you more.”

[those-late-night-feels]

Letters

Part 3

Summary: Writing everything down should help you process your feelings. Somehow it always turns into letters to him.

Warnings: Grief, angst, eventual smut.

Feb. 23

Time since you've left doesn't pass like it used to. I find myself staring out, my vision blurred at moments–grains of sand, waves crashing in, the starry night sky–spans of seconds and hours feel the same. Everything now overlaps, past with present, like a palimpsest, everywhere I look traces of you remain. You're like a ghost that haunts me and I ache for one of those visions to be real.

Are you still out there, somewhere in the vastness in front of me? I've heard the stories of your multiple deaths, only to come back again somehow. Is this another trick? Sometimes I feel like I'm going insane.

Fingertips drew lines in the sand, making patterns that would soon wash away with the tide. The cool breeze was welcomed as the sun dipped into the horizon, waiting until you could count the stars again, search for a planet (maybe two). He once told you how many different planets he had been to in his lifetime, at the time you were only half listening while studying for a mission. Did he say 200? Or was it closer to three?

As the sun's last rays passed below the curvature of the earth and the stars began to appear, it brought you back to your last mission with him. The Quinjet flew in stealth mode at dusk, and the team would arrive in Lichtenstein by nightfall.

The mission would take a few days, first surveillance and then infiltration. A hotel room was booked for you and Loki under the cover of a traveling couple.

It was cold when you arrived, the wind biting through your layers. Loki had changed appearances, donning a dark cropped haircut and a pristine suit. When he emerged from the Quinjet, he held his arm out. "Ready darling?"

Tucking a red strand of hair from the wig you wore behind your ear, you took his arm. A private car waited on the tarmac to take you to the hotel where you'd set up surveillance.

The hotel room was large, a living area, kitchenette, and a luscious separate bedroom adorned with fluffy pillows and blush roses. Sleeping arrangements ignored, you focused on setting up the surveillance, preparing for the long night ahead.

Time passed by slowly while watching with long lenses from the window, earpieces to pick up anything unusual. Loki stretched in the hard wooden chair, exasperated. "This is it, this is how I'm going to die."

You side eyed him from the surveillance lense. So dramatic. "Is this work below the means of a god?"

"I thought when they requested my skills, it would be for fighting and deception. Not whatever this is," he said, waving his hand in front of the window. "Please, regale me with tales of your life. Anything would be livelier than this!"

"I'm flattered you think my life story would be slightly less dull than this. But, I thought you already knew everything when you invaded my mind…" you said flatly, pausing to listen in on your headphones and take notes.

He pursed his lips and studied you. Adorable, trying to ignore him.

"Despite what you think, I barely touched the surface." He propped his legs up on the table in a flourish, head cradled in his hands. "Please, how is it that you've never allowed a man or woman to experience you so intimately? Do you…not have that desire?"

The clicking of keystrokes on the laptop were the only sound for a moment, focusing on a steady breath as your cheeks warmed. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of making you cringe, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth. "I doubt you would understand," you said flatly.

His lips turned up in amusement, it was evident without even looking up. "Because I'm a god? Or because I'm ravishing?"

The look you gave him was less annoyed, more matter of fact. "Because I haven't found anyone that matters enough."

There was no snarky comeback, no witty retort. Had you finally silenced him for the night? You turned back to the work and attempted to focus again, the hairs on your arm standing up as you felt his stare heavy upon you.

Did you have desires…what kind of question was that? Of course you had them. But it was hard to hold onto them when everyone either disappointed you or left. Your heart was secured in an impenetrable fortress. For your own protection.

It was hours into the night when exhaustion started to weigh in, fighting the oncoming yawns and eye strain. Loki watched as you rubbed your eyes, trying to shake the need for rest. "Go lie down for a bit," he offered. "I can handle this for a few hours."

He noticed the hesitation. This mission was your baby. It was important. You continued to type up notes, another yawn, eyes straining. Your fingers stilled when the warmth of his palm rested on your wrist. He wasn't one to touch you often, and the sudden contact was a jolt to your senses.

"You need your energy for tomorrow." He spoke your name and your eyes traveled from where his hand stilled, up to his own eyes lingering above. The silence was palpable. Swallowing, you nodded and stood, only allowing an inch of space in front of him. His questioning gaze turned your stomach in knots and a nervous, tired smile crept up your face, giving a quiet thanks and slinking past him to the bedroom alone.

March 9

When it's dark and quiet and the world is still, my thoughts drift to you. It reminds me of that first night in Lichtenstein, laying in bed and you just on the other side of the closed door. Did you think about coming in that night?

I wasn't lying when I told you I hadn't found anyone that mattered enough. But I also hadn't felt someone look at me like you did. My body reacted in a way that wasn't normal. It made me confused. Uncomfortable. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed when you didn't come in that night. Instead, I was invaded by sunlight in the morning, well rested and ready for the green light to infiltrate that night.

It was a black tie event, which you took to with ease in a sharp suit and slicked hair. Even though you could dress with the flick of the wrist, you fiddled with your cufflinks when I emerged from the room, pausing to give a very obvious one-over.

And when I twirled around and asked what you thought, you gave me one word. "Ravishing." The choice of word wasn't lost on me.

Loki had turned, moving with a determined pace like a wild animal in hunt of prey. Frozen in place, his abrupt movement left you transfixed.

The crackling on your earpiece made you jump and Loki stilled, close enough to feel him near you, but not enough that he would step back. "Alright team," the voice in your earpiece said. "We are T-minus 30 for all positions in place. Do you copy? Over."

You quickly reached to your earpiece and copied, like a child being caught with their hand in the cookie jar. But Loki was much slower, enjoying how you almost squirmed under his gaze. "Copy," he said, his eyes never breaking yours, then to you, "Are you ready to play?"

The event, a charity ball for high profile elites and government officials, was held in a 13th century castle overlooking a lake. Ancient stone walls, moss covered bridges, candle lit chandeliers–if you weren't on a mission, you'd think this was quite a romantic night.

The mission was complex–accessing an official's credentials via their fingerprint and facial recognition, Loki would need to get in close to the subject before he'd be able to use his magic to mimic. After bypassing security, you'd access a main database on the locations of children who were kidnapped and currently being prodded and tested into becoming super soldiers.

A glass of red wine held, you mingled through the crowd with Loki by your side, speaking under your breath before taking a sip. "Mr. X just rounded the corner of the north pillar. You have your eyes on him?"

"On him. Give me two minutes."

You resisted the urge to comment on the amount of time he needed, it was too obvious. Taking a last sip of wine, you slipped through the crowd, down a hallway as Loki spoke into your earpiece. "Got it. Ready?"

You turned a corner and there he was, no longer Loki, but Mr. X, leading the way to an upper room, the door secured by an intricate security system that he unlocked swiftly with a retina and fingerprint scanner. Inside was a vault. You methodically turned the dial, listening to the clicks of the internal locking system. When a portal door emerged, Loki pulled a key from his pocket dimension and presented it to you. "Would you like to do the honors?"

The key slipped in, turning until the door released. Your heart palpitated when the door opened, knowing you were one step closer. Loki grabbed the flash drives, the hard drives, the papers, stuffed into the inside breast jacket pocket. It was difficult to hide your smile, that feeling of accomplishment, and then your attention pulled toward the shouts and footfalls coming toward you.

"Shit," you mumbled, feeling naked without your katana by your side, but it was hard to hide a 28 inch blade within the form hugging dress.

Rushing out of the vault, you followed behind as Loki turned to the left away from the commotion, trying every door down the hall, but they were all locked. Another corner, another hallway, down a stairwell, through the door and back to the crowded party. Your steps slowed while weaving through the crowd, keeping a low profile.

You grabbed a champagne flute, he grabbed your hand, going deeper into the room. He spun you to face him, pulled your hand up to his neck. The abrupt action startled you and he gave an entertained smirk.

"Smile darling, we're putting on a show," he whispered in your ear. Your lips turned up as your pulse raced. "Now, glance behind me and tell me how many there are."

You gave him the details, ten in all that you could spot and their exact locations. The two of you could handle them all fairly well, but any weapons they had might make it more difficult for you.

"Alright," he whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "I want you to take this and head to the entrance. I'll be right behind you. If I notice you are drawing any attention, I'll divert them." He placed the smaller flashdrive in your palm and nudged you away. Head down, heart pounding, you counted the steps toward the exit. You could make it in two minutes. Right, left, right, left. Your eyes went up to two security guards on your right, neither looking at you. It was working, you'd be able to slip by. Sixty seconds. A security guard leaned to listen into their shouldered mic, and then his eyes looked up directly at you. You bent your head back down, turning slightly to glance behind you. Where did he go?

The security guard took a step forward in your direction at a determined pace. And then, behind you, commotion, a glass breaking, a woman screaming, the security guard running right past you, and you were 30 seconds to the exit. You'd make it out. Loki would be fine, he was a god you reminded yourself, he could take care of himself. And yet–fifteen seconds–you turned back and saw him fighting so many of them all at once. You had not been trained to slink away in the shadows to leave a teammate behind, it wasn't who you were.

Loki had dragged the flight out to the balcony overlooking the vast icy lake. He'd pulled his daggers from his pocket dimension, a wicked smile on his face as he fought off the pathetic mortals. They were no match for him. But behind him, you saw one with a baton and a taser at the end. Turn around Loki, watch your back. He was too focused on the three in front of him. Your legs took action before your brain could process, sprinting outside. Lurching at the larger man in a moment and wrapping your legs around his neck, he flipped to the ground with a hard thud. Loki turned to see you hit the ground, his jaw clenched. "What? I can't let you have all the fun."

He grasped you by the arm to help you up. "I recall telling you to go."

You grabbed the baton from the downed man and smiled up at Loki. "Guess I'm a bad listener."

He huffed, turning to fight two men in front of him, while you used the baton like your katana, knocking three men out while Loki easily handled himself, and you smiled to yourself. For some reason you and he made a good team.

Loki turned, feeling your eyes on him, and then a look of panic washed over him as Mr. X stood behind you, gun pointing at your head.

"Enough of this! Drop your weapons." His voice was authoritative. "Now!"

You dropped the baton, giving a small nod to Loki as the daggers clattered to the ground. "On your knees."

Loki rolled his eyes in annoyance, a guard shoving him to the ground. "You too little missy."

Hands by your head, you turned slightly to look back at the man holding the pistol at your temple, sizing him up. He was tall and wiry, he knew how to handle a gun, but not as well as you. In seconds, your hands were on his, first making him drop the gun to the ground, second to flip your body onto his. His balance lost in the surprise commotion, he flailed in an attempt to get you off of him, going toward the balcony railing to fling you off. But if you were going over, he was coming with you. The last thing you heard before your body hit the icy waters below was your name from Loki's lips.

[darubyprincx]

He sat in his chair in front of his newly minted desk with a slight stretch upwards, facing the shining planks and gentle orange glow of the rest of house. A well-worn pen lay on the surface of the desk, next to a new notebook and a small cordial of black ink. Out of a small leather pouch came a small box, inside which rested a nib, which was then screwed onto the pen in place of the old one.

After months of travel, Pixl figured he'd take the long way round with his journaling tonight.

He hadn't had much time to jot things down ever since he'd shown up here- between running from spiders, trying to cobble (hah) enough diamonds together to craft a pickaxe, running from spiders, and visiting the Nether to make some horribly time-consuming roof tiles, he'd been a bit busy. But new worlds were always lots of work, after all, and he'd thrown himself into the hustle and bustle of getting started so many times that the routine was more like supple leather: worn and familiar, the actions practiced and almost a dance.

Ah. There his mind went, wandering again as it often did when he wasn't able to access a pen or paper or (more commonly) a reliable power source to plug his laptop or phone into. Some worlds didn't even *have* electricity as Earth knew it- redstone was just a crude spark of magic dust to them, but he'd gotten lucky this time. At least he'd be able to actually contact people without resorting to magical means.

The pen hovered over the paper, words momentarily forgotten, and with a sigh Pix set it to the paper and starting writing.

"June 6th-

The long gap between this update and the last has an actual explanation this time: I've finally found the world that Fwhip sent the details of, after weeks of getting lost. Walking out of time and space is really weird. I got there in the end, though, hence the new journal and the first entry.

It seems the universe is not done with Pixl the archaeologist, not yet. I arrived- (fashionably) late as I often am) -not in my regular outfit, but something very close to what I'd worn in the second world of Empires. I've discovered that I can pull some rather strange and downright improbable things out of gravel, including lapis lazuli, carrots, and once an entire cake that I refuse to touch. Shelby says it tastes fine, with a faint aftertaste of dirt. I have not asked why she knows what dirt tastes like, nor will I because I do as well.

This world is populated with most of the people who were on Empires but with a couple new faces as well. I'm familiar with Scar, of course, but I've heard of Owen- a pilot who crash landed here and is on a quest to get an origin of his own beyond human. Sausage told me that, and also cheerfully informed me that he blew up the poor lad's camera. I'll have to figure out how to make a new one and also inform him when we inevitably cross paths that being human isn't quite a bad thing.

I myself have spent the past few days seperated from contact with the rest of the world, though, busy running around and gathering samples of literally every cool looking rock I could get my hands on and unfamiliar fauna, including Nether reeds- the lava equivalent of sugarcane- and proceeded to spend the next three days weaving it into roof tiles. No regrets.

I know I'll be here a while, so I've gone ahead and built myself a nice little house on a stony outcrop. It has four wings with things like tinkering tables, my desk, a loft with my bed, and of course, the front door, because I'm not interested in phasing through walls. Again. That was a difficult month and a half.

That's about everything, I suppose. I've been building for two days. I'm going to go to bed now and probably sleep in."

The journal snapped shut with a satisfying thock, glass dinged as the cap was screwed back onto the jar of ink, wood creaked as two feet climbed the ladder, and then the little house was silent for the rest of the night and well into the morning.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Run These Streets {4} || Street Racer!Bucky

Summary: You take it upon yourself to get Bucky out of his funk after receiving home detention for his racing. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, illegal racing, changing wound dressings WC: 2.5k

Bucky Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || Part Five

The local radio station was playing loudly in Bucky’s garage when you arrived. He didn’t even hear that you had pulled up until you turned the volume down and he smelt the food you had bought with you. “You need to rest babe.” 

Bucky winced as he stood up from the empty engine bay he was inspecting. He looked like he was about to argue but wisely closed his mouth when he saw the bandage on his side was turning red. “Fine.”

“Scrub up and come inside, I got your favourite.” You ordered as you teased the mouth watering bag in front of his face while walking past. 

“You are my favourite.” He called out as he watched you disappear into the house, your soft laugh drifting back.

The oil and grime was stubborn and by the time he had scrubbed his hands clean you had set the table and poured you both some homemade ice tea. You could see he was in pain as he gingerly lowered himself into the chair so you opened the cupboard that was littered with pill bottles and half empty first aid kits.

“How do you find anything here?” You mumbled as you looked at the labels and found most of them had expired years ago. “Honestly, I don’t even know how you survived on your own so long.”

“Luck mostly.” He chuckled before groaning. “I may have pushed it this time.”

“You think?” You shook your head as you carried a few rolls of gauze and painkillers. “Take these and lean back. Your bandage is soaked.”

You carefully took off the soiled bandage, trying not to hurt him anymore, and felt your stomach roll at the sight of the sutures that followed the line of his ribs. None of them looked torn but the wound was still bleeding so you wrapped it again with fresh gauze and checked he had swallowed the painkillers.

“You’re lucky you didn’t have to go back to the hospital.” You tutted. “Do you know what a pain in the ass it is having to get hold of your probation officer?”

“Not really,” he admitted with a timid smile, “that’s why you’re so great, because you take care of all that shit for me, and I love you for it.”

“Nice save.” You giggled as he sat up and kissed you before you took your seat. “What’s the damage?”

“I can save a few parts but she needs a new engine and most of the panels replacing but the chassis is straight so she’s not completely written off.” He muttered as he pushed his food around the plate. “It’s gonna cost a fortune that I don’t have.”

“I know how much that car meant to you.” You said softly as you placed your hand over his. “We’ll find a way to get her fixed.”

He wasn’t convinced as he chewed his lip. There weren’t many options left since he was on house arrest for illegal street racing that resulted in the crash. Even if he wanted a mainstream job he couldn’t leave his front yard and he doubted many people would hire him after the addition to his record.

“I’m going to go lay down for a bit.” He mumbled quietly after eating in silence.

You were about to offer to join him, even though it was far too early for you to be able to sleep all night, when your phones buzzed simultaneously.

Unknown Number: 14th and 3rd. Midnight.

Bucky’s phone was tossed away angrily and you sighed heavily as you got up to grab it, finding no new cracks on the screen. He had been in the hospital for the race the week before and you wondered if every Friday night would be this hard for him. The four month sentence suddenly seemed a whole lot harder, especially if he couldn’t have some connection to the racing scene.

Grabbing your laptop, you came up with an idea and worked quietly, tinkering with Bucky’s TV while he slept. When you were all set up you walked into his room you were surprised to find him wide awake, staring blankly at the glow in the dark stars on his ceiling. 

“Babe, I have a surprise.” You whispered as you broke through his harsh self reflection he had been stuck in. “Two actually - though one you might not like.”

He frowned at that and sat up, his chest still shirtless despite the drop in temperature. “Yeah, doll? Why’s that?”

“Why don’t you come to the living room first.” You said as you offered your hand to help him stand, linking your fingers as you led him down the hallway. “I connected my laptop to the tv so that you can still watch the race tonight but, and this is the part you won’t like but hear me out, it's connected to our headcam.”

“So you’ll have to be there, racing, for me to watch.” He laughed humorlessly as he shook his head. “No way, doll, you’re not going out there without me.”

“It’s a win-win babe, you still get to watch what you love and we kinda need the prize money for those repairs.” You argued as you sat him on the couch and let him pull you to his side.

“Not if it means risking your life. The Camaro isn’t worth that.” 

“You know I can drive, just as good as you.” You said, taking a deep breath. “I’m doing this Bucky, with or without you…but I could really do with you having my back.”

You held out your headset that was already connected to the laptop and waited as he stared at it. You were about to give up when you saw him look away but with a heavy sigh of his own, he took the headset and placed it on his lap.

“No unnecessary risks, you hear me?” Bucky warned. “If you get a hint of any dodgy shit from the other drivers, you pull out. And, I will cut this ankle bracelet and steal a car to come find you if this connection cuts out for more than a second.”

“Deal.” You grinned as you jumped up. “I need to steal your tires real quick and head off.” 

“Take a breath.” Bucky caught you by the hand and kissed your knuckles. “Adrenaline makes for easy mistakes.”

“I know, I know. It’s just been years since I last had a proper race, I forgot how it feels.” You rambled as you tried to calm your mind. “Tell me I’m gonna win.”“I don’t have to.” Bucky chuckled, kissing the corner of your mouth with a smile. “Because you are gonna win.”

You were conscious of his injury so you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist and kissed the light beard that was growing out along his jawline. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He whispered against your lips. “Drive safe.”

Your Hellcat wasn’t meant for racing in the sense like Bucky’s Camaro. It wasn’t fit with a roll cage and the interior hadn’t been gutted out to lighten its tare weight but Bucky made sure the front seats had been fitted with harnessed bucket seats a long time ago. But the soup and nuts of the matter was that your Hellcat was fast and with your skills it was easily a strong contender. 

“Holy shit, it's been awhile since you brought her out.” Steve grinned when he saw you pull up at the 11th hour. “How’s our boy doing?”

You held up your helmet with the camera mounted on the top. “Ask him yourself. You can take Bucky away from the race but you can’t take the race away from Bucky.”

“I wanted to see the race, not his mug.” Bucky joked in your ear and from the indignation of Steve’s scoff could read his best friend's mind. 

“He’s talking about me isn’t he?”

“Maybe.” You winked. “I actually have a favour to ask.”

You hit the mute button on the helmet's microphone so you could talk to Steve and heard Bucky call out after a moment's silence. 

“Sorry, Buck, must have knocked it. I could still hear you.” You assured him as you imagined he began to pace the living room. “Time to get this show on the road.”

Steve walked around the other drivers before making his way back to you, a small nod giving you the go ahead to pull up to the spray painted starting line. 

“Do you still get nervous? I feel like my stomach is going to try to climb out of my throat.” You swallowed as you reached the line and focused on the woman removing her bra to flag the race start.

“Every damn time.” Bucky chuckled, easing some of the worry knotting your insides. “Concentrate, doll, finishing in one piece is what matters.”

“Yeah, about that…” 

You ran out of time as the woman waved her bra three times before letting it loose and you dropped the clutch and floored the gas. The front wheels lifted off the road as you launched forward and for a second all you saw was the reflection of lights glimmering off One World Trade Centre before you fell back down to earth. You gripped the wheel tighter as the suspension bounced and noticed there was a supercar to your left that was inching ahead of you, but the machine was made for drag races not taking corners which was exactly where you were heading.

“90 degree right turn coming up.” Bucky guided seriously. “You’re going into it pretty fast there.”

“Yup.” You confirmed much to his dismay as you pushed further, the last to start breaking heading into it. “I didn’t come here to lose, Barnes.”

You ripped the e-brake back as you turned, kicking the back out and drifting into the corner before anyone else. The others were quick on your heels but you had effectively put the supercar out of the running as it popped out of the corner in last place. 

“It’s been months since we tuned your ride.” Bucky growled as you raced along the straight, jumping red lights as the scream of your engine limited. “Take it down a notch.”

“Can’t do that babe.” You shook your head, his view on the tv screen shaking with the movement. “I didn’t have enough cash for the buy in.”

“Fuck.” Bucky swore as he fisted his hair in his hands. “Right turn then hard left.”

You eased off the accelerator for the back to back turns and your heart skipped a beat as you almost over-corrected coming out of the turns. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Bucky asked as he watched the street fly past in a blurr, feeling like it was him in the driver's seat. “300 yards until you have a long left turn so don’t go in too tight.”

“You wouldn’t have agreed.” You admitted as you flicked your eyes to the GPS and saw the turn he was talking about, one that snaked under the highway. “We need to work on your terminology.”

“I’m not exactly used to being in this position, you’re much better at this job.” 

Headlights flashed in your wing mirrors as the Toyota Supra tried to take you on the straight with his lighter car. 

“Right back at you.” You murmured as you tried to keep your eyes on the road, on your competition and on the ECU diagnostics that had popped up with an alert. 

“Turn!”

Your eyes flashed away from the screen in the centre of the dashboard to see you had reached the left turn. You braked too much in a spike of panic before turning and clenched your fist tighter on the gear stick as you chopped down and tried to chase the Supra that made it past. The next two corners were a dog fight as you edged to close the gap and came neck and neck on the last straight. 

“I’m not losing to a fucking import.” You growled as you turned the nozzle for the NOS and watched the pressure engage. 

“That bottle hasn't been swapped since the roady to Boston.” 

You could practically taste Bucky’s fear, hear the anger at himself for not keeping your car in top shape but his was supposed to be the race car, not yours.

“You worry too much.” You said, stealing one of his favourite phrases. “It’s scary isn’t it, being on that end of the line.”

He grunted in agreement. “Does it get easier?”

“Nope, but I’ll always do it for you.” 

You saw the Supra boost forward and chuckled because your V8 cylinders were about to annihilate his inline 6. You pressed the release for the NOS and felt the increase in horsepower almost immediately, the front wheels threatening to lift off the ground with the surge. 

“You got this, doll.” Bucky all but shouted as he chewed his lip and froze in front of the wide screen tv. “You’ve got this.”

Your long hood inched past the Supra’s and you saw the driver smash his fist against the steering wheel before the finish line appeared not a moment too soon. Your triumphant laugh was echoed by Bucky’s cheers and you spun into a burn out at the end of the street where Steve waited with the other unofficial officiants of the street racing scene. 

“I love you!” You laughed as you tore off the helmet and kissed the camera.

“I love you too, now get your sexy ass home so we can celebrate properly.”

Steve was quick to work his way through the three race cars parked behind you and took the pink slips and keys from the angry losers before any got ideas of making a run for it, which wasn’t unheard of. He was grinning from ear to ear as he brought the winnings over and you knew it would go a long way into paying to repair Bucky’s Camaro as well as some of his legal fees.

“Thanks, Steve. I actually have one last favour to ask.” You said as he engulfed you in a hug.

“Anything for you.”

You were still riding your high as you drove to Bucky’s and parked outside, needing a moment to gather your thoughts and calm down after the rush of endorphins left your hands trembling. The moment only lasted a second before your door was pulled open and Bucky grinned proudly at you. 

“There’s my girl.”

“She’s got a surprise for you too.” You said as you unclipped the harness and stepped out to see three pairs of headlights coming down the street. Their engines purred across the quiet night and Bucky draped his arm over your shoulder as he watched them approach. “I didn’t have cash for the buy in.”

“You said.” He nodded. “So you used your car as collateral.”

“Kind of.” You smirked, seeing the Toyota, a Ferrari and a Camaro as few years older than Bucky’s park at the curb. “It was a race for pink slips.”

His jaw gaped wide as he stared at the cars, his friends climbing out of the drivers seats. “These are all yours?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, baby, they're ours.”

Click here for part five.

[wardenswateringhole]

All-Nighter

Clavell x Reader

GN reader with AFAB equipment

Going with Pokémon Violet lore since that's the version I played.

CW:

Sappy romantic shit

18+ below the cut

Nothing in this world is infallible. Especially technology. The filing systems had crashed hard. Nothing was accessible. Maintenance took to trying to fix the problem and assured everyone a server held the school's important files. Most of the files had corporeal copies in cases such as this. It was slower but it was doable.

The incident did spark an idea in the Director however. Thoughts of how files had been destroyed by the assistant of his predecessor haunted his mind. He didn't want such a thing to happen again. A private backup of the files on hand would be a good solution for this. You, his faithful secretary, agreed and vowed to help anyway you could.

Clavell trusted you immensely. As his secretary and as his lover. You had been carrying a secret relationship for a few months. There were some near misses but you learned how to cover for yourselves so no one would ever know.

Though there were some suspicions that Ms. Tyme had an inkling...

You both got what little you could done in the office, but trying to manually transfer and type up files while juggling academy work made progress slow. It was suggested you join Clavell at his home and you would both work on the project there. You accepted with an offer of bringing refreshments to help you both through.

Clavell's home was quaint. It wasn't heavily decorated save for a few sentimental items he had accrued over the years. A couple of awards and accolades were framed here and there. A child's drawing of three scribbly figures and signed in big uneven letters “ARVEN” hang prominently on his wall. A picture of a group of people in lab coats caught your attention. You could recognize not only a younger Clavell but Mr. Jacq and Professor Turo as well.

Instead of holing up in his home office, you both settled into his living room. Everything, files and food, were spread over the coffee table. While he had the supplies to brew his favorite tea on hand, you were sure to bring a thermos of strong coffee for yourself.

Your work went on at a steady pace. Few breaks were had as you both were deep in work mode. The sun had long set by the time either of you bothered to come up for air. Clavell looked over at you as you typed away at your laptop. He smiled at the way you continued typing with one hand while taking a swig of coffee.

“My jewel...” He purred, causing you to look up from your work. “Come here.”

You stood and approached him. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to him. His sitting position put his face against your chest. Your arms draped around his neck as his hugged you.

“Have I ever told you how wonderful you are?” He asked softly, his chin propped on your chest and eyes staring at you adoringly.

“Once or twice.” You laughed. “Have I ever told you the same?”

Clavell stayed silent as he stared at you. He felt blessed by the stars that would alight your eyes every time you looked upon him. Stars only for him.

“Once or twice...” He muttered. His hand reached up and guided your face down to his. His waiting lips pressed sweet kisses to yours. A couple kisses and Clavell hummed thoughtfully. “May I use your computer for a moment?”

You nod curiously as he stood and brushed past you. He knelt down where you once sat. A few clicks and keystrokes later, music began to emanate from your device. Clavell stood and offered you his hand. His face held a warm smile that gently teased at the laugh lines around his mouth and eyes.

His fingers held your hand tenderly as he lead you to an open area of the living room floor. Your hands were guided to his shoulders while his placed themselves around your waist. A singer crooned out words of desire and devotion. There was no light between your bodies as you swayed softly to the gentle strumming of a guitar.

The sounds seemed to float off into the aether as Clavell held you close to him. Your fingers brushed over the soft short hairs at the nape of his neck. The sweet smell of his cologne wafted lightly into your senses. His eyes seemed to almost shine as his arms enveloped you in warmth. You could swear you were standing on air and only his embrace was keeping you from falling.

Clavells lips pressed into your skin before he held his forehead to yours. Eyes drifted closed as you both stayed like this, savoring the moment. Silent prayers were said by both of you for it to last forever. Warm, close, content in nothing more than the existence of the other.

As the song faded into silence, the sounds of kisses and sighs filled the room. Clavell chased your lips hungrily before crushing them hard with his. His tongue parted your lips and met yours in a passionate dance. His arms tightened around you. Your hands ran through his hair, nails gently grazing his scalp.

It took everything Clavell had in him to pull away from you. He panted for air and his lips and cheeks were reddened. A look of sudden worry crossed his face. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“May we...” His eyes opened once more to look upon you with such a cherishing gaze. His words hesitated, as if uttering the wrong breath would have you turning to dust then sent afloat on the breeze.

“May we take this to the bedroom?”

A nod and your bright smile was all the confirmation he needed. He took your hand and guided you down the hall and into his bedroom. Pale light coming in through the window was all the illumination needed as you both began to unfasten and pull away the clothes your wore. You hands made contact with his bare flesh as his shirt was unbuttoned. Wisps of white hair covered his chest. Wiry remnants of muscle clung to his frame, echoes of an active past.

His hands soon found you as well. Warm, lightly calloused hands glided over your ribs before rubbing firmly at your bare back as your top fell away. The hands continued their exploring downward, slipping into your waist band and pushing away your bottom wear. A breathy chuckle escaped him as his fingers played with the fabric of your underwear. His finger hooked into the elastic before snapping it against your skin playfully. He delighted in the quiet squeak you elicit in response.

You both giggle as you move onto the bed. Clavell kept close to you as you moved back toward the headboard and settled against the pillows. Your hand touched his lips gently, stopping him from immediately going in for more kisses. He smiled as you took his glasses from his face and placed them safely on the bedside table.

As soon as you gave him the go ahead, Clavell was back on your lips. The kisses shifted and began to trail along your jaw and down your neck. His beard tickled it's way along your collar bone and down your chest before his mouth clasped around your breast. His tongue swirled around the nipple while his other hand massaged the supple flesh of the other. You moaned and squirmed at the attentions. You could barely see his eyes for the snowy locks that had fallen into his face.

He pulled you from his mouth with and audible pop before moving to the other breast and giving it equal treatment. Your breasts were pert and glistening from his saliva by the time he was done. His face nuzzled into your stomach causing you to tense from the ticklish sensation. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your underwear.

“May I?”

You nodded. The garment was pulled away slowly, his hands running down your legs with it. Clavell took a moment to admire your underwear before tossing them aside. A leg was propped on his shoulder. He rubbed his cheek against it as his hand touched at your sex. His thumb brushed through the soft hairs and found your clit. It moved in slow circles over the sensitive bud.

You felt yourself tremble. The sensation made you grip at the pillows and arch your back. You tried to buck up into his hand to get more pressure but he denied you. His hand was steady in it's work. You could hear his thumb spreading the wetness around.

“Easy now...” He murmured. His hand moved away from you leaving you aching for more. Clavell began to kiss a trail from your ankle and up your leg. He bypassed your sex and opted to plant tender kisses on your hip bone. The journey continued along your stomach once more and between your breasts until he was face to face with you again.

“Are you ready?” Clavell whispered. A nod and a kiss later, you could feel him sliding into you slowly. He started shallow. Coating each inch in your slick before pushing back into you. The process repeated until he was completely buried in you. His breath shuddered as you clenched on him.

“You feel heavenly...” He breathed. His hips moved against yours slowly. Your legs were wrapped around him, your heels propped against his lower back. Your hands dug into his shoulder blades. A gruff moan sounded out as your nails scrapped along his skin.

“You're so precious to me...” He whispered as his movements increased. “I didn't undergo a treasure hunt... Yet I found you.”

His thumb brushed over your cheek. Your hips moved with his, steering him to areas that sent jolts of white hot pleasure through you. He kissed at the tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

“C-Clavell...”

“Yes, my jewel.” He responded, thrusting even harder. “My most precious treasure. Anything. Anything for you.”

“I want you.”

Your words struck him hard. Lips interlocked as he pounded into you. Moans and cries of ecstasy filled the room as you clung to one another desperately. Your entire body clenched as pleasure overcame you. A feeling of warmth filling you soon followed as Clavell shoved himself into you as deep as he could. His hair stuck to his sweaty face as he looked at you. His eyes widened as he saw the tears falling from your eyes.

“My jewel...”

You sniffed and hugged him close. Your face buried in his neck. “I love you.” You managed to choke out through your watery breaths.

Clavell moved beside you and maneuvered the blankets up over both of you. His arms held you gently against him in the dim light of the moon.

“I love you too.” He whispered.

–

Clavell walked toward his office carrying a box full of the files you two had been working on the night before. Mr. Jacq met him as he reached his door.

“Ah. Director Clavell. Do you need assistance? You look quite tired.”

It was true. Clavell's eyes did sport darkened bags under them. He unlocked the door with one hand while balancing the box under his arm.

“I am fine, Mr. Jacq. Just worked a bit late last night.”

Mr. Jacq looked around curiously. “Where's your secretary? They're usually here before you are.”

The box was placed on Clavell's desk. He began to pull files from it as he spoke over his shoulder to Jacq who saw fit to let himself in.

“I told them to take the day off. They went above and beyond, helping me last night. I believed they deserved a day of rest.”

“I guess they didn't get that message...”

Clavell turned to inquire as to what Jacq meant. He saw you standing in the doorway, a coffee in hand and very tired eyes on your face.

“Sorry I'm late.”

Clavell placed the file he was holding onto his desk and turned to face you fully. “I told you to take the day off.”

“I'm not letting you carry this project and the academy matters alone. My job is to lessen your workload, remember?”

Clavell adjusted his glasses and nodded. “Very well.” He looked to Mr. Jacq.

“If you would excuse us, we have a great deal of work to get through.” A stern look was given to the dark-haired man. “And if I'm not mistaken, you should have work to do since the automatic system is still down.”

Mr. Jacq rubbed the back of his head bashfully and moved quick toward the door. “Right! Of course! I'll get back to my classroom.”

As soon as the door shut behind Jacq, Clavell took you in his arms. “What are you doing here? You should be resting.”

You laughed. “You should be resting as well. You got less sleep than I did.”

He hummed as a playful smile spread over his face. “And here I was thinking this old man had worn you out. You wound my pride, my dear.”

You both rubbed noses together sweetly. Your gaze settled on the box on his desk. “There's still a lot to do...”

Clavell nodded. “I knew this project would be no light undertaking.”

You grinned at him. “Perhaps I should come over and help you again?”

Clavell nodded sagely. “Yes, that would be quite efficient. Perhaps I can treat you to dinner this time?”

“Only if I can bring some wine.”

He smiled and placed a kiss upon your lips. He sighed as his head pressed against yours.

“That would be lovely, My Jewel...”

[marz-writes-shit]

2 — The Shield

A weekend can be spent doing anything and everything, from complaining about the vendors blocking the driveway to feeding the stray dogs and cats under the shade of rusty awning. For Amory, it was writing a critique for a film their professor made the class watch, while for their little brother Danilo, it was horsing around at the plaza with his friends. As for their parents? They were out for groceries, so Amory had the compound to themself. Before resuming their work, they made sure every possible entrance was shut and locked, of course.

Now, the critique paper their professor wanted was for a corny movie that was released approximately a hundred years ago, during the forsaken era of anthrax and plane crashes. The topic itself was still relevant, but the direction made them cringe and want to just... turn away from the ideals. Still, they persevered, hoping the professor would see just how crappy the delivery was while complying with the rubric.

Their fingers clacked away at the keyboard. Sometimes they'd go back a sentence or two to make sure nothing seemed redundant. They just had to cram every idea they had into the paper, so their fingers practically galloped across the keys. They occasionally paused to check the cadence or drink water, and then they'd resume typing. It was a steady rhythm that helped them many times before.

Once they had written about forty percent of their piece, they ate lunch. Rice and some vegetable stew, washed down with water. Then they went back to working, faster and more diligently, until they had already written three pages' worth of analysis. After they checked the old clock on the wall to find it was one PM, they sat back to take a breather.

Their phone chirped with Messenger notifications. Amory glared at it like it owed them money. It was a message from Yasmine, one of their contacts at the theater club, asking if she could come over, since she needed help revising a script for the theater club. They told her no, sorry, they were too busy trying not to get an aneurysm from how stupid their assignment was. How about an audio call? And she replied with a thumbs up. And as expected, the special ringtone grated against their ears not three seconds later. They swore and hit Answer.

"Hello?"

"What's up, heathen," they drawled, pulling up the laptop again to continue typing.

"I'm stuck," Yasmine whined, "This scene is so dumb! And why do my lines have to sound so... cliché?"

"Theater *is* cliché, face it. There's no drama in nuance." Amory squinted at a very uncompelling sentence and deleted it. "Who're you supposed to play?"

"Liz. She has a crush on this guy and they've been dating for ages. Story goes something along the lines of 'She's beautiful. He's charming. They're perfect for each other, but the world said nuh-uh.' But the opening scene..."

"What about it?"

"A cringe meet-cute. With books and papers flying everywhere and stuff."

They audibly snorted, almost doing a keysmash. "Oh, that sucks. And they didn't let you change it?"

"No," she whimpered. "I'm doomed. What should I do?"

"Hmm." Typing. They were 70% done with the paper. They glanced at the sixth paragraph, wondering whether it would make their professor fume or not. "Don't fulfill expectations. Make them angry at each other after the meet-cute. 'You ruined my favorite dress!' and 'You're not supposed to run in heels!' type-a thing. It'll be funny."

Yasmine laughed. "Oh, brilliant. Thanks, Amory. Seriously."

They rolled their eyes. "'Course. Anything to help the deteriorating drama ensemble of the renowned Pearlcrest International..."

"Hey!"

"Suck it up, Yassy, it's the truth."

"Whatever, nerd." She laughed once more. "Thanks again."

"Sure. Buh-bye."

They ended the call, set their phone aside and resumed working with a newfound vigor, probably from the fact that they just derailed the plans of the horrible, horrible director of the theater club. They typed furiously, and when it finally struck three PM, they were done. They saved the file, sent it to the class Google Drive, then stretched their arms.

Five minutes later they heard the front door opening. They froze and squinted, hand hovering over their bulky mouse in case they had to fend off an intruder, before a kicking of worn sneakers announced Danilo's arrival.

"Heya!"

"Good afternoon, loser," they deadpanned, observing as their little brother performed a weird dance and punched the air in between shuffles. Looks like he had a better time than Amory did. "Mind telling why you're so gleeful in spite of the Hour of Skin Cancer?"

He shrugged. "Not my fault you're drowning in homework. I just talked to the prettiest girl in my grade! We went to the plaza together! Oh, and I took it upon myself to get the fro-yo flavor she wanted. Ya should've seen her smile!" His grin widened.

Amory stared at him. This was news, but whatever. They had more important things on their mind. "Well, congratulations, bachelor. You can now bring home a wife to force your DNA inside until her health fails you. Now wash your shoes."

"Why are you being such a killjoy today?" he groaned.

"Because I watched the most repulsive piece of media on orders of my language professor and I'm spiting him with my output. Can you wash your shoes now?"

"Ugh." He stomped into the kitchen to do it. "You're just jealous because you don't have anyone crushing on you or vice versa," he called over the rush of tap water and scrubbing.

"And I'm perfectly fine with that. My life doesn't revolve around other people's view of my bodily appeal and recreating iconic romance novel scenes, unlike you..." they muttered, reaching for their phone.

"What did you say?"

"I said you suck at flirting!"

There was a startling clang as their mother's favorite pot tumbled and screeched across the floor from the kitchen, narrowly missing Amory's ear. They got up — oh great a neighbor heard and screamed — and picked it up. "Dan," they began as they marched into the source, "do NOT throw a tantrum. You're fourteen. Four years until you can get arrested."

He grunted in response. At least he cleaned his shoes, Amory noted with a small nod, sliding the pot into the cupboard where it came from.

For the rest of the hours until their parents came home, Amory ignored their brother and shut themself in their room. Facebook provided a temporary distraction from the indifferent world beyond the walls of the house;

it was all they really needed nowadays. They swiped through fun and games, candid shots and unpermitted textcaps, and a couple of oily pore selfies (of which their classmates were pretty proud). There was a nagging feeling of inadequacy that Amory refused to pay mind to as they looked at each and every one of the posts. Amory sighed, shaking their head to dispel the intrusive thoughts. They refused to succumb to the comparison trap. Their life might not be picture-perfect, but it was better than risking sunburn and jail.

Closing Facebook, they turned their attention to something else. Novels! Fiction! A well-worn book from their shelf would serve them well, one they probably memorized by heart already. The familiarity was comfort, transporting them to worlds far away from the woes of reality.

The main character was about to die when Amory heard the door squeak open.