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#you should not do this to your friends without telling them but honestly it's worth it. It'd do it again
missholloween · 8 months
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I subjected my bestie to tgdwlm and they were so real during all of it. It was really funny because he asked me a couple of times "hey, you haven't put me a tragedy, have you?" and I said nothing. They did not have a good time during let it out, but their face during inevitable... Priceless
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msfantasy-comics · 10 months
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The Family Meet and Greet
Damian Wayne x Reader
Request/Summary: Hey hun! I wanted to send in a request for Damian Wayne x reader. Maybe reader being introduced to the family/the family finding out about them?
A/n: Honestly I can’t tell if the picture is Tim or Damian.
Masterlist - Tip Jar
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Damian is a pretty private person and doesn’t intend to do an awkward meet and greet with his beloved girlfriend.
He knew that all of his family members would find out one way or another anyway.
Dick Grayson:
It wouldn’t take a genius detective to know that Damian is asking for advice for his love life.
Damian sits in his hero costume, hunched over as his legs dangle over the side of the building. His eyes evade Dicks, a red hue spreading across the tips of his ears.
A soft smile embellishes Dicks lips as he sees his younger brother whom is typically egocentric, now looking timid and shy for the first time ever.
“So my friend started seeing someone recently and he had this dilemma on if he should keep seeing her or not because on one hand he has all this baggage he doesn’t want to burden her with and on the other hand he just can’t bring himself to break things off with her.”
“So this girl your seeing-“ Damian’s eyes bulge, snapping his neck towards Dick, acting too defensively.
“Ugh, are you not listening Grayson? I said it’s about my friend.”
“Right, right, I forgot. My bad…” Dick think’s carefully on his words. “Sounds like your friend is a classic over-thinker. Relationships are far from logical, it’s all based on feelings. It might be hard for your friend, but just enjoy it for what it is.” Damian sits and stares off over the Gotham skyline looking unconvinced. “Look Dames, there is no right answer. Just do what feels right.”
Leaning back into his palms he stares in amusement at his beloved younger brother continues pining in anguish.
“So… how long do we keep pretending that we aren’t talking about you? Can I see a picture?” Damian rolls his eyes with a sigh, sliding his phone out of his pocket, he taps on the screen silently before shoving his phone into Dicks hands.
There laid the image a happy couple. Damian’s arms wrapped around your shoulder. The dark city filtering behind the brightly lit couple, forever captured in permanent laughter.
Dick, initially keen to tease the cheesy photo before him, now silent in pure aw to see the genuine smile, Damian’s eyes lit in adoration.
“Do not tell anyone Grayson. I will share the news when I am ready.”
Tim Drake:
The little rat has been acting rather odd.
Tim tried talking about it to Dick but he just kept evading his questions by pathetically redirecting his attention with someone else’s random drama.
They’re both acting weird and secretive, and there is no way Tim is going to be kept out of such an intriguing mystery.
Usually Tim would just stalk his targets, but this is Damian we are talking about. It is incredibly difficult, if not impossible to track Damian without him noticing. Starting with Damian’s social media, Tim pin points all of the photo locations and begins to visit each site one at a time. He hacks the local cameras and reviews the footage from around the date the photo was uploaded.
Low and behold, footage of Damian smooshing his face into another ladies face….
Whelp, Tim was certainly not expecting to see such a DISGUSTING display of affection. YUCK.
He didn’t even know the rat could even feel those types of feelings.
Tim, now laying on his bed cuddled up to a pillow is looking… traumatised.
Sometimes, it’s better just not to know.
Barbara Gordon
No freaking way.
Barbara could not believe her very eyes.
When completing a Internet background check on the Wayne family to scrub any suspicious allegations or accusations, Babs found the Holy Grail of finds.
An account with a mysterious woman with months worth of photos with the Wayne’s local angsty brat, Damian Freaking Wayne.
When completing a generic photo match search. Lovey, dovey poses with Damian and a girl by the name Y/n flashed up on the screen.
This is juicy! To tell Bruce or not to tell Bruce, that is the question.
Jason Todd
Disgusting. Absolutely foul.
It’s a random Tuesday evening when Jason jumps roof tops only to discover a couple making out all hot and heavy.
Their bodies tangling together as the man rips his shirt off. The girl sliding her hands along his abdomen before landing on his belt buckle.
The man then slides his hands from the back of her neck to her ass, giving it a needy grope before sliding his hands to the back of her thighs, lifting the woman with ease and pressing her against the wall.
This is hilarious, they have no idea Gothams most infamous Vigilante has caught them about to get down and dirty on Gothams roof top.
Jason sat down and ate his figurative pop-corn in humourous delight, until his eyes adjust.
“Ain’t no FUCKING way!” Jason yells, humours delight now churning into a disturbed nausea. He swallowed the bile raising up in his throat.
Pulling out his phone he calls Damian. Panting breaths filter through the phone, only furthering Jason’s disgust.
“What?! I’m in the middle of-“
“I know what your in the middle of you sick bastard! Take it indoors!” The line goes quite for just a moment. “Little freak, your family patrols the roof tops you know, ugh, I can’t - I’m having a flash back to Selina and Bru- ugh I’m gonna vomit.”
Duke
“Finally!” Duke announces, hoping over the back of the couch and sprawling out on the soft cushions of the plush couch. Without a second to spare Duke switches the TV on to watch the latest episode of his favourite show.
“Thomas-“
“No talking!” Duke wholesomely announces, crossing his arms over his chest.
“My phone… forget it.” Damian grumbles, seeing Dukes eyes glued to the TV. Squishing further into the cushions, Duke feels the uncomfortable poke of a hard object pressing into his rib.
Wrenching the wretched object from its place, Duke holds a phone. His haphazard fingers pressing into the screen which lights up and shows the text of a person named Y/n.
Y/n: Can’t wait for our date tonight, I miss your handsome face xx
Dukes cheeks heats up, seeing a private message he shouldn’t have seen. Damian is incredibly private and may murder Duke for accidentally learning something he wasn’t suppose to.
Wiping any evidence of his fingers touching the phone Duke places the phone back between the cushions.
Best if he just abandons his show for now for a tactical retreat.
Bruce Wayne
God, why are his kids so weird?
Seriously? Out of all 20 of them, not a single one was normal…
Sitting at the head of the dinner table, he watches his children talk amoungst themselves in weird cryptic speeches.
“Do you know what I know?” Tim asks intensely, the broccoli wedged on his fork, pointing at Dick, who stares back wide-eyed.
“I don’t know anything … why what do you know?” Dick says scanning the rest of the room to see if they somehow knew what Dick was referring to.
“I can’t share what I know, but just know it. Is. Juicy.” Babs announces with a sly and taunting grin.
“I don’t know anything, I didn’t even want to see it. Oh god, I’m feeling queasy.” Jason says crossing his arms over his stomach.
“IDidntSeeAnythingEither.” Duke announces quickly, and begins to quickly Hoover his dinner.
Damian sighs, massaging his temples at his idiotic siblings.
“So I take it that you have all found out about Y/n?” Bruce asks calmly, slowly sawing into the plump steak on his plate.
The room falls dead silent as all heads turn towards Bruce, surprised that he knew and surprised that he had the guts to say what everyone else was thinking.
“Father, how do you know about Y/n?”
“… I’m Batman.”
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froggiewrites · 1 month
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Follow Through
Pairing: Ace x Reader
NSFW
Summary: Portgas D. Ace may be a flirt, but he doesn't think he deserves more than that. You try to prove him wrong. Warnings: Smut, Self Loathing, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 5.8k Crossposted from Ao3
His hands are warm.
That was your first thought when you met Fire Fist Ace. You quickly learned that the rest of him was warm, too, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes, from his beautiful smile to the depths of his heart. But the hands were first, calloused yet gentle, holding yours for a handshake and welcoming you aboard. You were reluctant to let go of them, barely able to muster enough willpower to pry yourself away. They were comforting, but enough to engulf your own but barely gripping, ensuring he didn’t cause you any discomfort.
The second thing you noticed was his smile, boyish and bright, and the way it made your heart flutter. There was something terribly honest about it, in a way that not many men let themselves be. He never held himself back in his joy, always busting into a wide smile and a laugh that made his whole body shake. You can’t even remember the joke you made to make him react in such a way, but you do remember your own smile falling as you just stared in awe at him. He was beautiful in a way that felt so very alive.
You couldn’t hide your feelings for him then, and you certainly can’t do it now. You’ve been with the Whitebeard Pirates for nearly six months, long enough to truly embrace your new family and friends. And they’ve wholly embraced you too, giving your life a meaning you had never had before. It felt so right to finally have a place in life, and people who accept you for who you really are. But with acceptance comes familiarity, with familiarity comes comfort, and with comfort comes the constant needling teasing that only comes from someone who truly loves you.
“Staring again? It’s getting a little sad at this point, honestly.” Thatch’s words may have a little edge to them, but his tone is light and teasing, without a hint of malice. He’s been kind to you, as he is to everyone, so you don’t take it too personally.
“Yeah, so I keep hearing.” Your eyes are still on Ace, laughing with his head thrown back without a care in the world. He’s so handsome like this, shining in the sun and absolutely bursting with joy. He’s always like this at banquets, stuffing himself full and laughing like he’s never known sorrow. He always draws your eye, but especially in moments like this. He’s surrounded by people all smiling just as widely as he is; he tends to have that effect on people.
Thatch laughs a little. “And you don’t plan on doing anything about that?”
“Not really.” The idea of it makes your chest seize. It’s terrifying, to imagine change, and even worse to imagine how it all could go wrong. As much as you’d like to, you can’t imagine any response to your confession but rejection. Some kind, some less so, but you never imagine a yes. How could you? How could such a man want you? Want anything less than the perfection he deserves?
Thatch sighs. “You both are a nightmare to deal with, do you know that?”
You finally let your eyes leave Ace to look at Thatch with confusion. “What do you mean?”
He sighs again, significantly more dramatically than the first time. “Nothing. Just…I think you should tell him, ‘s all. Nothing will change if you don’t.”
“Would that be so bad?”
“To never know if your feelings are reciprocated? Yeah, sounds pretty bad.”
“No, but–You don’t get it. Yeah, I won’t know. But I’ll get to stay by his side. I’ll get to stay his friend, his confidant. Can’t that be enough?” You don’t want to get greedy. You don’t want to demand more than you’ve earned.
“Maybe it could, I guess. But why should you settle for ‘enough’ instead of reaching for happiness?” You hate it when he makes a good point.
“Enough doesn’t hurt.”
“Neither does more than enough.” He pats your shoulder soothingly. “And a little hurt is worth it in the end. You’re stuck in limbo, right now. But if you say something? Well, who knows where that might lead.”
You had resigned yourself to limbo, back when you first saw his beautiful smile and known you were smitten. You weren’t used to getting what you wanted. But oh, to imagine a life where you did. To imagine a world where he knew your feelings and you knew he felt the same. Where you were able to see that beautiful face first thing every morning, and last thing every night. What a life that would be. You would never want for anything again. “...Maybe I could say something. Someday.”
“Maybe someday soon.” He pats your shoulder again before walking away, probably back to the kitchen to make up for the dent Ace made in the food for the feast.
Someday soon, huh? You try to imagine it. A day where you look him in the eye and tell him how deeply you care about it. You couldn’t open with telling him you love him, of course. Didn’t want to scare him away. And you couldn’t say you liked him like some teenage girl with a crush. You wanted him to know it was deeper than that, a feeling that ran to your bones, to your soul. How could you say it?
Your eyes flicked back to him, and they met his. He was grinning at you, toothy and wide, like he always did. And you returned it, like you always did. A moment you had lived a thousand times, and hoped to live a thousand more. It always made you feel so warm and fuzzy, soft at the edges. You could just melt, looking at him like this. You could fade into nothingness and not feel a moment of regret if you just got to see that smile one last time.
He waves you over, and your feet begin to move, helpless to his whims. Before you know it, you’re sitting directly next to him, his arm slung around your shoulder as he excitedly regales you with a tale of his latest adventure. Your shoulder is pressed into his chest and you try not to pay attention to how hard and strong it feels against you. His warmth radiates through your shirt, and you feel it slowly moving through your body, melting you further into him. It takes all of your concentration not to lean your head into his chest and make a home there.
“Hey, are you listening?” The arm around you jostles you a bit, bringing you back to earth. 
“Oh, I–um–”
“I know it must be distracting being so close to someone this hot, but really, you gotta keep it together.” His tone is light, and his smile full of mischief. He pulls you a little closer, and speaks quieter against your ear. “I’m trying to impress you, y’know. It doesn’t really work if you don’t listen to how cool I am.”
Your face flushes, and you scramble for a response that doesn’t show how flustered you are. “Oh, is that what you think you are? Cool?”
You can feel him smirk against your ear. “Well I guess it’d be better to call myself hot.” He blows on your ear and you shoot up, hand pressing against the side of your face as you desperately try to cover the red seeking its way up your neck. He laughs good naturedly, and puts his hands up in some form of surrender.
You skitter off, throwing yourself into the throng of people, trying to catch your breath. He teases you often, hands reaching just a little closer than appropriate to certain places where his eyes like to linger, words just a touch beyond friendly. But it doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself.
But could it?
Maybe someday soon echoes in your head.
Maybe someday could be today. Maybe you could say something. You could be brave. His bravery is one of the things you admire most about him. You could try to imitate that, in some small way. After calming down, you seek him out, like a moth to a flame, and pull him aside. “Can I talk to you later? Once everything calms down a bit?”
He regards you with a good natured concern. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I just need to talk to you. Nothing’s wrong or anything.”
He smiles at you fondly, though you could swear you see something in it—some sort of nervousness, unsteadiness you aren’t used to seeing in Ace. “Well, good. Yeah, we can talk later. Party’s winding down now, so we can probably sneak off soon.”
“Good. See you soon, then.” You skitter off before you lose your nerve, not seeing the way his eyes follow you across the room.
Soon turns out to be over an hour later, once half the crew has passed out drunk and the other half has dragged the first half back to their beds. You meet Ace on the deck, in the cool ocean air, and admire the way he seems to shine in what little light there is. He smiles at you, and the moon seems dim in comparison.
“Hey.” His voice is quiet and deep, and it plunges right through you.
“Hey.” You twitch nervously, hands fidgeting and eyes focused anywhere but him. “I…Sorry, I’ve been rehearsing this in my head over and over and I forgot everything I was going to say the moment I saw your face.”
You expect a reassuring smile, one that he usually gives freely when you’re nervous, but his mouth remains flat. “It’s alright, take your time.” The words are right, but the tone is wrong.
You persevere. “You’re…really special. To me.”
“Is that so?” He leans against the railing of the ship, hair blowing in the breeze, moonlight dancing in the dark strands. His energy has gone strange, unfamiliar in a way you have never known him to be.
“I really care about you, Ace.”
He isn’t looking at you. His eyes are to the sea, staring into the horizon, a million miles away. They’re devoid of their usual warmth, you realize. There is no mischievous twinkle, no crinkle at the edges indicating a smile.
“You shouldn’t.” His voice is soft, but not tender. It’s filled with resignation, with shame, with a deep seated self-loathing that startles you so badly you almost flinch.
You realize the downside of this beautiful, burning flame: he cannot see himself. He cannot see his own brilliance past the light in his eyes. He thinks himself weak and small and ugly, and you have no way to show him how wrong he is. He carries this burden silently, as he does all his burdens, because he thinks he has to. Because he thinks his only use is as a candle burning itself down to keep the rest of the world in the light.
You take his hand in yours. He jumps a little at the contact, and he looks at you with confusion, like he can’t figure out why you’re still here, why you haven’t already run from him. “But I do. And I don’t think anyone gets to decide how I should feel except for me.” You start to slowly rub your thumb over the back of his hand, and he looks at you with such a horribly lost look it makes you want to weep.
“I don’t–” Ace tries to keep his voice from cracking, choking down any sound that gives away the weakness he is so desperate to hide. “I don’t understand why you would want me.” Why anyone would want me remains unsaid, but it hangs in the air between you nonetheless. He takes in a ragged breath, still holding back tears, and the hand that isn’t holding his cautiously makes its way to his cheek, gently tracing over his freckles.
“Ace, I can say with complete and total honesty that I don’t understand how anyone wouldn’t. You’re the most wonderful, kind, and passionate man I’ve ever met, and from the first moment I saw you I knew that you were going to be important to me, even if I didn’t know how. You’re strong, brilliant, fiercely loyal, fun—You’re just…warm. Like the sun. Like surfacing out of cold water on a summer day and feeling the sunlight on your face. Like napping outside and feeling it wash over you and gently pull you back to sleep. Like seeing the first ray after a storm and knowing everything is going to be okay, even if you don’t know when.” You trail off, a bit embarrassed at going on for so long with no response, but when you see how he’s looking at you, your breath catches in your throat. He’s so vulnerable, so open, and looking at you with the sense of awe and wonder you once thought exclusive to gods and angels and Ace himself. The warmth is slowly making its way back into his eyes, softening his face and making him look younger. His mouth is slightly open, lips parted as though he was about to speak but couldn’t choose between a confession of love or a prayer.
“You–you really mean that.” His voice is little more than a whisper. It isn’t a question, just a simple statement of disbelief. “You really feel that way about me.”
“I do. And all of that still isn’t enough to really describe it. You’re…everything, Ace. Everything good and kind in this world, and then some.” He doesn’t believe you. You can see it in his face, his lack of understanding. He knows your words are sincere, that you mean everything you say, but he doesn’t understand that you’re just finally putting into words the unspoken truth of this world, the one that everyone who has ever met him understands instantly. It is one of the few things that you can rely on in this world, that you know will forever be true: the sun will rise in the morning, the world will keep spinning, and Ace will always be good.
“You’re wrong, you know. I can't–I’m not anything special. I’m not even anything decent. Every good part of me is borrowed from someone else. I’m stubborn, and angry, and–”
“So?”
He blinks. “What?”
“I never said you were perfect, Ace. I never thought you were. You’re just wonderful. That doesn’t make you flawless. It doesn’t make you inhuman. And all of the best parts of you are all you, Ace. You’re just too close to see it.” You try to let go of his hand so you can fully clasp his face, cradle him like he deserves, but he grips it tightly, pulling it to his chest. He’s frightened to let you go, like the moment your hand leaves his you’ll disappear, slipping through his fingers like so much else has.
“I don’t believe you.” His voice is soft, without much fight in it.
“I know. I wish you did, but that’s okay. I’ll tell you as many times as I have to. I will spend every day for the rest of my life telling you, if you let me.”
“That sounds like a proposal.” There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, just a small amount of his humor leaking through. There was a question in it as well, a quiet could it be? One day, when I believe you, could it be?
“Maybe it could be, someday. But I don’t want to skip any steps. I want to remember each and every little minute I have with you, every moment, no matter how small. If you let me, of course.”
You weren’t expecting him to kiss you. You weren’t expecting his lips to brush against yours so softly you almost didn’t feel them at all. You weren’t expecting the press to continue until you can feel every inch of them, chapped and cracked, against your own. The hand not holding yours rests on your cheek, pulling you closer and taking your breath away. You had imagined your first kiss with Ace many times, most of them as fiery as the man himself. But you had never pictured such tenderness, such care. He holds you like you’ll crumble beneath his fingers. The gentleness of it makes your chest ache, and you feel like maybe you really will shatter under his touch.
Even when your lips part, you stay close, breath mingling and foreheads pressed together. You open your eyes to stare directly into his, and the pure adoration in them brings tears to your eyes. The only thing you can see are his shining, beautiful eyes and the freckles dotting his cheeks, and you don’t know if you ever want to see anything else again. It’s every beautiful sight you’ve ever seen reflected back at you in a single image, in a single tight frame, and if you died right now you could rest easy knowing that you truly had seen all of the beauty and glory and grace this world had to offer.
“I would let you.” His voice is barely a whisper. “I would give you everything I had. I would let you take anything from me.”
“I’d rather share it, I think.”
He closed his eyes at that, basking in the idea, imagining a life for two. A life worth living, perhaps. “I think I’d like that.” His smile grows wider, though you cannot see it as he lifts his head and drags you forward into his chest. He presses your ear against his heart, and you can hear its beating, quick and growing quicker. He rests his chin on the top of your head, and lets out another whisper. “That’s for you. Always has been.”
You sit like that for what feels like hours, intertwined and listening to Ace’s heart. It calms to a steady beat, and soon after that he slides you down onto the deck so he can lean against the railing of the ship. You’re unsurprised when you hear snoring shortly after. His arms around you don’t loosen at all in his sleep, holding you tightly like you’ll be gone when he awakes if he even thinks about letting go. The weight should be suffocating, but instead it’s soothing, warm and heavy in the same way as a thick comforter.
When he awakens, you ask him a quiet question that has been nagging at your heart. “Ace, why did you hit on me so much? Why were you so kind to me, if you didn’t want me to care about you like this?”
When he talks you can feel it rumble through his chest. “I never said I didn’t want it. I wanted it more than anything. I couldn’t stop myself from getting closer, even when I knew I didn’t deserve it. I kept telling myself that it was fine, because you didn’t want me anyway.” He laughs a little. “Clearly I was wrong.”
You turn around in his arms to face him, your noses brushing together. “I don’t think there’s a world where I don’t fall for you, Ace. I think I’d always want you, in any way I could have you.”
“In any way?” His voice takes on a tone you’re a bit more familiar with, but even underneath the flirtatiousness there’s a vulnerability beneath it, like he’s still checking, testing if this is solid ground that won’t fall out beneath his feet.
“In any way, Ace. Any way you’d let me.” You kiss the tip of his nose, keeping it light, allowing him to make the choice here. He can pull out if he wants, pull away, and you will take whatever step he wants.
He responds by pinning you to the deck.
You let out a soft squeak, and at the sound his eyes darken a bit, though he’s still clearly holding himself back. You can see the question in his face: Is this alright? Do you want this?
You kiss him hard, and he finds his answers in your lips.
His hands are everywhere, spreading their warmth, and you feel like there’s a fire spreading in your blood. You can feel the tips of his fingers digging into you through your clothes: your hips, your breasts, your thighs. It feels like he’s everywhere, and you can barely keep up. Your own hands brush against his chest, and you cannot seem to pull them away when you hear what might be a soft whimper against your lips when your fingers make contact with his nipple.
You tweak them lightly, and he pulls back as he makes another sweet keen. “Not fair, sweetheart. You can feel so much of me, but you’re so covered up.”
“Not my fault you don’t own any shirts, Ace.” 
He laughs a little, his hands reaching for the bottom of your shirt. “May I?”
“Oh, ever the gentleman. You may.” He removes your shirt slowly, seeming to drink in every inch of skin being revealed. His fingers finally lightly brush against your bare skin, and you burn so hot you think there will be nothing left of you when this is done. When your shirt is gone, he stops all movement for a moment, just staring at you in the moonlight. His gaze bores into you, eyes filled with a mix of lust and affection that makes your stomach flutter. He adores you. He wants you. He needs you.
“God, you’re so…perfect.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You’re really here. This is really happening.”
“I was just thinking the same thing.”
“You’re even better than I imagined, and we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet.” He reaches back to unhook your bra, and sucks in another breath at the sight of your bare breasts. “God, I’ve never wanted anyone more.”
Before you can respond, tell him that you feel the same desperate pull toward him, his mouth is on your chest, and you let out a moan. You can feel his teeth lightly drag across your sensitive skin before his tongue reaches your nipple, his hand reaching up to roll the other between his fingers. He rolls his hips lightly against you, and you let out an even louder cry before he lifts his mouth.
“Not too loud, sweetheart. Don’t want to risk anyone hearing.”
“It—ah!—It’s probably a bit late to start worrying about that considering where we are.”
He pauses, as though he just now realized you’re entirely out in the open on the deck. He considers for a moment, before calmly picking up your shirt and bra, stuffing them haphazardly into his pocket, and throwing you over his shoulder.
“Ah! Ace!”
“You don’t need to start crying my name quite yet,” he laughs. “I don’t want anyone else to see you. I’d like to keep this sight to myself.” His hand rubs against your thigh as he says it, but the gesture strangely feels more fond and affectionate than it does lustful. He carries you to his room quickly, stumbling over bottles or other pieces of evidence from the earlier banquet but somehow ensuring you’re never jostled. He doesn’t put you down even as he locks the door behind you, even as he kicks on his heavy boots and slips off your own shoes. Only after this does he flip you gently onto the bed, pressing you lightly against the mattress and ghosting his lips against your own. “Are you ready for the main event, sunshine?”
“I’ve been dreaming of it since the day we met.” You’re breathless at your admission, but you have to let him know.
“Oh, me too. But we’re about to blow all those dreams out of the water.” His smile now is one you’re familiar with, a cocky boyish grin that fits him perfectly. “I’ll start.”
With that, his hands slip below the waist of your pants, and they slide you out of them with ease. As soon as your thighs are exposed, he’s on them, kissing you tenderly before nipping hard enough to leave marks. You know tomorrow the evidence of this will be there, something that proves what you and Ace have here together. You can’t help but be pleased this will be more than just a memory.
He makes his way up your thighs slowly, teasingly, before you feel his breath against your panties. Even before he’s made contact he’s breathing hard, chest heaving like he’s physically holding himself back. His nose makes contact and you whine, hands fisting the sheets beneath you. He licks a strip up the fabric, and he groans at the wetness seeping through. His voice is thick with want as he quietly murmurs, “Fuck.”
His hands rip your panties down before diving in. You can feel his tongue as he savors your taste, making absolutely shameless slurping noises echoing through the room. You keen sweetly, and he moans into you, hips rutting into the mattress. His lips and tongue find your clit as one of his hands leaves your thigh and one of his fingers enters you. He works it slowly, teasingly, before adding another and curling them, finding a spot that makes you whimper.
When he hits a particular sweet spot with his fingers while his tongue circles your clit you can’t help but reach a hand down to grab his hair, which makes him groan even louder, a deep sound that rumbles through his chest. At the same time his hips slam hard into the mattress, and the hand still on your thighs grips tight enough to bruise. It instantly loosens, his fingers moving gently across the spot as if apologizing. His fingers inside you start pumping faster, his tongue maintaining a steady pace, and you can’t help but scream “Ace!” as you cum onto his face.
He works you through your orgasm, fingers and tongue still moving until your thighs stop twitching. When he pulls back, you can see his face is covered in your slick, from the bridge of his nose to his chin. He pulls his fingers slowly out of you before making eye contact with you and sticking them in his mouth, sucking on them without looking away from you. When he’s done, he pops them out of his mouth and runs his fingertips against his freckles, collecting more, only to bring his hand down to you. You open your mouth without thinking, and the pads of his fingers are pressed against your tongue as you can taste yourself.
“Best meal I’ve ever had,” he mutters with a cheeky smile, before taking his fingers back and leaning in to kiss you.
“Do I get one too?” You ask it quietly, eyeing the belt buckle hiding him away from you.
He chuckles. “As much as I’d love to indulge you, I think if I don’t fuck you right now I’m gonna go insane.”
With that, he reaches a hand to his belt, unceremoniously throwing it across the room and wincing when you both hear a loud crash. He quickly recovers, sliding off his pants and boxers and setting them gently on the floor next to the bed. “Just in case,” he mutters, and you giggle.
Your eyes take in his cock, as big and beautiful as you’d imagined it, and you can’t help but let out a quiet noise of appreciation. “Like what you see?” He asks cockily, but you can see a blush working its way over his cheeks, painting him a gorgeous shade of red.
“It’s just as beautiful as the rest of you.”
“Beautiful? Not handsome? Not hot?”
“Beautiful, handsome, hot, pretty, gorgeous, all of it. They all apply.”
“Is that so? I think some of those are better applied to you, pretty girl.” He leans down to capture your lips, one hand reaching down to align himself with your entrance. He slowly rolls his hips forward, sliding in at a torturously slow pace, as you moan into his mouth. When your hips make contact you feel so stretched you might burst. He reaches both hands up and intertwines his fingers with yours, pressing you firmly but lovingly into the sheets.
His lips leave yours. “You ready for me to move, princess?”
“God, yes, please.”
He slides back slowly, before starting a steady pace hammering into you. He stares at your face, soaking in your expressions, before starting his work marking every inch of your neck as his. You cry out whenever he finds a particularly sensitive spot, and he always notices, nipping and sucking harder.
It all feels delicious, but it just isn’t enough. You buck your hips up into him, whining, “Harder, Ace, please!” You feel him smile against your neck before he pounds into you so hard you begin to see stars. You feel a coil building in your gut, tighter and tighter as you feel every bit of Ace’s warmth seeping into you, taking you over, making you his. You squeeze your eyes shut, face twisting, as you feel the edge get closer and closer.
Ace finishes his ceaseless attack on your neck, and you can feel his breath against your lips. “Want—ah—want to see your face as you cum. Want to look in your eyes. Ah—please open your eyes, sweetheart.” How could you deny such a heartfelt request? You open your eyes to see him looking at you with pure awe, like he still can’t quite believe this is happening. He looks at you like you’re a miracle, an angel, any and everything holy in this world.
With one final roll of his hips, you’re pushed over the edge, tightening around him and crying out, and you only just barely manage to keep your eyes on his as you lose yourself in your pleasure. He finds his own end just after you, and you can feel warmth as he spills into you. His hands tighten on yours, grounding you both, and as your orgasms both come to an end his head falls into your neck.
You sit in the moment for a few minutes, catching your breath, reluctant to part. Ace moves first, slowly pulling out of you, hissing from the overstimulation. He does not, however, let go of your hands. He simply pulls out before falling back on top of you, nose pressed in the crook of your neck.
You kiss the top of his head. “Ace, I think we probably need to clean up.”
“Probably,” he mutters, just barely awake. He nuzzles deeper into you.
“Ace, once we clean up we can both go to sleep.”
He looks up at you with wide, pleading eyes. “We could also go to sleep now.” The dim moonlight coming in through the window reflects on his face, making him look positively angelic.
You sigh. “We could…at least let go of my hands so I can hold you.”
He gives you a heart-stopping grin as he lets go of your hands and flips you so you’re laying on his chest. You wrap your arms around him, and he wraps his own even tighter around you. “I knew you’d see things my way.”
“I always seem to.”
He kisses the top of your head tenderly as his hands rub gentle circles onto your back. His expression is peaceful, but you can see a cloud of worry briefly pass over him. “Do you promise to still be here when I wake up?”
“I promise,” you say quietly. “You couldn’t get rid of me now even if you wanted to.”
“Good,” he mutters quietly. “I–” his words catch in his throat, but you know what he means. You can feel it in his touch, see it in his face.
“I know, Ace. I do, too.” You could say the words now, they could burst out of your chest at any moment, but you pull them back. You should say them together.
“I really care about you,” he murmurs.
“I really care about you, too.”
His snoring starts soon after, and as loud as it is you can’t help but be lulled to sleep by the sound.
595 notes · View notes
atlasofthestaars · 11 months
Text
heart to heart
summary: 
“The touching of foreheads—this is an ancient greeting. that honors the heart and soul of another human.” 
you and your lover have a tender moment.
includes: Liu Kang, Kung Lao, Raiden, Johnny Cage, Kenshi, Reptile, Scorpion (Kuai Liang), Sub Zero (Bi-Han), Smoke, Shang Tsung, Mileena, Kitana, Ashrah, Havik, and Cassie Cage
note: something different ig?? just wanted to do something indulgent and wanted to dabble in drabbles. (these ended up being longer bc. pressure.) I also wanted to take this time to practice writing some sweeter stuff for the love interests of New Era + Cassie bc my friend likes her. idk if people want more I can probs do other charas too.
LIU KANG
A content sigh left your lips as you pressed your forehead forward to meet Liu Kang’s. Your eyes fluttered closed. His hands, which now no longer had their wraps, gently cupped your cheeks. His hands were always warm, and they helped keep away the chill of the night. A thumb gently rubbed small circles, a habit of his that you always found oh so endearing. You couldn’t help but to melt into his hands.
This was perfect. There was nothing more you could long for in this world. Though, you knew if you wanted anything Liu Kang would be there to fulfill your wishes. Anything was worth the smile on your face.
In the day, Liu Kang was often busy with his duties. Being the protector of Earthrealm came with many responsibilities, and the both of you knew that. Oftentimes, you would go long stretches within the day without seeing a hint of your lover. It was simply something you had to accept being Liu Kang’s lover. However, that did not mean he neglected you. Not at all.
At the end of the day, when the sun gave way to the moon and let it shine upon the world, Liu Kang returned. Night time was always the time he set aside for just the both of you. It soon became your favorite time of day just because it meant he would be there, right at your side.
“You look so perfect.” Liu Kang whispered. His voice carried reverence within it, as if you were the god who had crafted the universe with utmost care and love. You opened your eyes, and for a moment, you were left breathless. No matter how much time passed, he always looked at you as if you were the pinnacle of perfection.
Any sort of response you had was stuck in your throat. You could never tire of staring into Liu Kang’s eyes. You often asked if he had given himself the ability to hypnotize others with his gaze. He told you every time that no, he did not. But if he didn’t, why were you so entranced by them every single time you dared to look at them?
You wished you could put into words how much you loved this man. From the way he looked with his silky long hair that you loved to play and run your hands through, to the way he was so kind and loving. You often wondered and asked how you were lucky to be the partner of such a god, to which he always told you that he was the lucky one.
“I am thankful you wait for me every night.” The god murmured, his voice so full of love and genuine thankfulness. He removed his forehead, and you mourned the loss of contact before he pressed a featherlight kiss to yours. Then, he returned his forehead back to yours, and everything was as it should be. “I wish I could spend every minute by your side, my love.” 
You wished so too, but every night was just enough for you.
KUNG LAO
Your forehead bumped into Kung Lao’s a bit clumsily. There was far too much energy and excitement buzzing in both of your veins to prevent that little stumble. It didn’t matter either way to you, you were just happy to be in his arms. He was equally happy to hold you, and you could tell by the way his arms squeezed around you. 
You always felt happiest in his arms, honestly. There was nowhere else in the world you’d rather be than right here.
“Did you see that!?” Kung Lao asked, his eyes wide as they searched your face. While Kung Lao always sought out approval and compliments, there was nothing better than the ones he received from you. It just made him feel like he was on top of the world. To his delight, he saw the way you nodded accompanied with a wide happy grin on your face. The grins he got from you were perhaps the best type of approval he could ever get from you.
A laugh left your lips as he squeezed his arms tighter around you in delight. Every embrace from him felt like it was full of the love he felt for you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. His nose nuzzled against yours, and more laughter spilt from your lips. You couldn’t help it, he knew just how to make you happy. Your face heat up from how nearly overwhelmed you were from his affection, the love nearly overflowing from your heart.
“You’re always so cute when you blush.” Kung Lao teased, a hand rising up to pinch at your cheek affectionately. His eyes glinted with mischief and glee, but most of all, love. He adored the way he could make you blush and how your heart would race. It meant that you felt exactly the same way whenever he would just look at you sometimes.
You leaned back, a wide grin on your face as you swatted away his hand in a playful manner. Rolling his eyes, he instead cupped your cheek. Before you could protest in any sort of way about his earlier comment, you were attacked with a flurry of kisses all over your face. 
“Sorry, you’re too adorable. I couldn’t resist.” Kung Lao apologized, but you both knew he would pepper your face with his kisses again and again the next chance he got. His grin was the perfect mixture of smug and gleeful. And his dimples were the perfect icing on the cake. You raised a hand up to cup his cheek and traced his dimples with his thumb.
“A fan?” Kung Lao inquired, eyebrows raising up in a teasing manner. His ego seemed to only get bigger and bigger with every adoring look you gave him, but you didn’t care. A laugh left his lips again as he pressed his forehead back to yours. It was a little too much force again, but the both of you didn’t care. All that mattered was that you were together and basking in each other’s mutual affection.
You wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world.
RAIDEN
Your forehead pressed against Raiden’s gently as the two of you lay underneath a sea of stars. You two had decided to stargaze since it was such a pretty sight outside. The sky was clear and the moon was full, and yet there was nothing you wanted to look more at than the man beside you. How could you not?
Your eyes searched your lover’s face, admiring how the moonlight fell just perfectly on his face. How could a man look so amazing as the one in front of you? Perhaps you’d have to thank Liu Kang sometime for blessing you with the image of perfection. While being so in awe of the champion’s beauty, you nearly missed the comment he made.
“You look amazing.” He spoke, his voice filled with so much affection for you. He always wore his heart on his sleeve. It was a trait you adored so much, even if was sometimes a flaw of his. A soft smile appeared on his face, the very same one that made you fall a bit more in love with him every single time. You couldn’t help but grin just a bit wider at the sight. 
You should be the one telling him that, in all honesty. The proper words to express your love for him were lost though. How could someone express such adoration and love? You thought there weren’t nearly enough words in all of the realms to tell him how much you truly admired him. 
His hand moved carefully towards your face, as if moving too fast would break the peaceful atmosphere. He was always so thoughtful about such things, especially so when it had to do with you. Then finally, after far too long, it settled on your cheek where it should be.
His thumb moved slowly across your face before it landed on your lips. It rubbed across your bottom lip leisurely. His gaze drifted away from your lips as he returned his thumb to rest on your cheek once more. Now they settled on looking into yours, and you wondered to yourself just how lucky you were to have such a man by your side.
“You are more lovely of a sight than all of the stars combined.” Raiden said, his voice filled with such sincerity it made your heart skip a beat. Then again, he was sincere in all things he said. It didn’t make you swoon over him any less. “I’m so lucky.” He confessed, humble as ever. You sighed at his little comment, withdrawing from his forehead to press a soft kiss on the tip of his nose for a moment.
You watched with silent admiration as color rose to his cheeks, blossoming in a soft reddish pink. Then, it spread across his face like a watercolor painting. If only you could save this view forever. You grinned at the sight, your heart swelling with joy. You couldn’t help but kiss him again, overwhelmed by the love you felt for the man in front of you.
What a sight.
JOHNNY CAGE
Your forehead pressed against Johnny Cage’s, and it felt like you were in a movie. Maybe you’ve been watching too many of his movies lately, but you couldn’t help it. You loved supporting him and his passions. The pride he had on being on screen was nearly palpable every time you watched one of his films. 
The feeling of being in a movie wasn’t helped with the way your lover was acting.
I mean…the way he was looking at you was pretty much the perfect shot for a movie. Your cheeks warmed up, and you were certain Johnny was bound to notice. Even if he wasn’t looking at your cheeks, his hands were sure to feel how the skin beneath them heated up. Your eyebrows rose up, looking at him a bit confused.
“What? Can’t I look at you?” Johnny inquired, sending you a smile. It wasn’t quite the practiced, perfect smile he sent his fans. No, it was the smile he always sent you. It was a little less perfect, but it was a little more real…a bit more genuine. Best of all, it was just for you. Your heart couldn’t help but flutter a little at the sight. 
By the gods your lover was so pretty. And he sure knew it, but how could you blame him? Looks like that were meant to be shown off. Even still, you were thankful for the small private moments like these were you were allowed to see the parts of him no one else could. It just reminded you of how fortunate you were to be with this man.
Little did you know how much he adored you right back.
You rolled your eyes at his comment, but in a light, playful manner. No, it wasn’t as if he couldn’t look at you. It just…mystified you why he looked at you like that. Like you were the most valuable thing he had. It felt almost impossible, after he once owned Sento, which he always went on and on about how he spent three million dollars on that. And that wasn’t counting the other countless possessions he had when he was at the peak of his richness.
And yet, despite your reservations on how much you deserved to be looked at like that, the admiration in his eyes made you reconsider. Johnny was always good at convincing you, he just had a way with words. Or sometimes his charisma was enough, much like in this case. His thumb brushed your cheek with a tenderness that made your heart skip a beat. 
“Thanks for being my number one fan.” He murmured, pulling back to press a soft kiss onto your forehead. He let out a small laugh, the one that made you feel like you were on top of the world. “I hope you know I’m also your number one fan too.” The actor reminded you, his eyebrows raising to punctuate his point.
You knew that you both were each other’s biggest supporters, and that type of loyalty was priceless.
KENSHI TAKAHASHI
You made sure to place your forehead against Kenshi’s softly, trying to be gentle. You smiled at him, even though he could not see it. This was one of the rare few times Kenshi did not have Sento around, letting himself be the most vulnerable. And those times were always with you. He trusted you with his life, so this step wasn’t too farfetched.
“I wish I could see you.” Kenshi murmured his voice mournful. His hands reached up to cup your face. He knew he could always see you with Sento. But he didn’t want that. He wanted to see you with his own eyes. The swordsman wanted to see you, and your radiant smile in full color. He was grateful for what he gained after his loss, but sometimes he longed for sight just for you.
He supposed he would have to make do with what he could do instead. 
Guiding his hands, you settled them on your face and closed your eyes. It was in these rare few moments that you two had a tradition. You were used to this and almost anticipated this every time he set Sento aside and sat down with you alone. His thumbs slowly rubbed your cheeks, as if marking out his starting place. Then, he finally began to move his hands. It was slow and deliberate, taking time to memorize every detail of your skin. Every winkle, bump, and mark, he wanted to remember it all. 
First his hands moved slightly up. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your ears, refreshing his memory of how they looked by touch alone. Then, it moved higher, noting your hairline with his thumbs. His fingers brushed across your forehead, his thumbs tracing around where your foreheads connected together.
As his fingers reached your closed eyes, they lingered there. No envy coursed through Kenshi’s veins. Instead, only gratefulness swelled throughout the swordsman. He was thankful that you did not also go through the pain of losing your eyes in such a painful way. Leaning forward, he kissed your eyelids with utmost care.
“I want to protect you.” Kenshi whispered, pulling back to reconnect your foreheads. You couldn’t help but smile at his words, knowing that he meant it from the bottom of his heart. His fingers continued to make their way down, tracing your nose before they stopped once again at your lips.
His fingers mapped out the curve of your lips, especially noting the way they curled up to form your fantastic smile. He took a deep breath in, admiring just how soft your lips were underneath his fingertips. By the gods, he could never get over how nice your lips feel. A smile appeared on his own lips as he felt your smile grow.
He always loved your smile. Whether it be seen through Sento or felt through his own hands it warmed his heart. He would do anything to keep it, and you, safe. 
And he knew, having you there in his hands as he pressed a gentle kiss to your smile, you would do the same for him.
SYZOTH
Sleepily, you pressed your forehead against Syzoth’s own forehead. Blearily, you opened your eyes to look at the man who slept beside you. He still looked half asleep as well. You looked him over, admiring the sight of the sleepy Zatteran. It was a sight that only you had the privilege to see. A smile appeared on your face as you raised a hand up to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbed circles to slowly coax him awake. 
Looking over the shoulder of your lover, you noted the sunlight streaming in from behind the parted curtains. It hit Syzoth just perfectly, making him look like he was glowing. For a moment, you wondered if your lover was an angel instead of a Zatteran. You certainly felt blessed enough to have him to believe it. Then, you heard the familiar reptilian grumbles emanate from his chest as his forehead rubbed gently against yours, the tip of his nose brushing against yours.
Maybe he was both, you thought.
“Let’s just lie here for a bit more.” Syzoth mumbled, his voice laden with sleep. The arms around your waist were squeezing you tightly now, preventing any hope of climbing out of bed to start your day. It was as if you were a stuffed animal for him. You let out a small drowsy laugh, your fingers now pinching his cheek. As much as you adored sleepy mornings with your Zatteran lover, you knew that he had a very important job as the Empress’ emissary. Both of you had responsibilities to get to.
Syzoth simply huffed in response, not even responding with words to your attempt to wake him up. His hand reached up to grab yours. He pulled your hand off of his cheek and instead intertwined it with yours. The simple gesture made your heart melt. You could practically feel him basking in the warmth that you naturally radiated. You sighed as you opened your eyes a bit more, squeezing his hand in an attempt to pull him from dreamland.
“I promise I will get up soon.” Syzoth told you, his eyes now more open. It was almost as if he were awake the entire time, but he just was seeking an excuse to spend more time with you. Or maybe, that’s exactly what it was. You had a small idea of what the truth actually was.
You stared up into his stunning green eyes, the sight of them alone almost took your breath away. Combined with the gentle way he spoke, along with the way he looked at you, you easily believed him. Then again, you supposed you would believe anything he told you as long as he looked at you that way.
He could tell you that the sun was gone when it was high into the sky, or that the world was going to end within days and you’d believe him. How could you not when he looked at you that way? You sighed with fake reluctance as you relaxed in his embrace.
Okay, maybe you can sleep in a little longer.
KUAI LIANG
Your forehead settled against Kuai Liang and you enjoyed the warmth you felt from the contact. A smile rose to your lips. How lucky you were to be with a man who knew how to control fire. Equally warm hands reached up to cup your face in a gentle, affectionate way. A bit selfishly, you inched closer to him, seeking out his warmth. Your arms wrapped around him, trying your best to pull him as close as you could towards you. He seemed to notice, his hands pulling you just a tiny bit closer towards him as well.
Your heart fluttered at the gesture. Your lover always seemed to know exactly what you needed, even if you said nothing.
It was a cold, cold night. The chill of the night crept into your bones, and only the warmth of your lover seemed to abate it. You relaxed and closed your eyes, basking in the way he was naturally warm. It was always a comforting warmth, never the stifling kind that made you fidget. You always swore that you could fall asleep comfortably as long as Kuai Liang was there to warm you to lull you to bed. 
Sleeping was something the both of you should be doing, and yet you were instead. You were basking in the comfort of being in each other’s arms.
With the mastery of a man who has been training in discipline all of his life, he heated up his hands carefully. It was almost symbolic. The way he held you so carefully was almost like he was cradling a small flame. Kuai Liang made sure to make it hot enough that you would no longer feel the chill of the night air, but not hot enough to make you uncomfortable, not to even mention hurt you.
The last thing he would want to do is hurt you. You were his everything.
His eyes, those dark brown eyes you loved to look so deeply at, stared at your face. While he normally loved to watch you, after all you were his favorite thing to look at, he now watched you carefully to gauge your reaction. He sought out to see any signs of discomfort or pain. He had to make sure you were feeling as comfortable as possible. After all, you deserve nothing less than the best.
“Is this better, love?” Kuai Liang asked, his voice quiet amidst the silence. There were not many things the man craved. It was a thing he prided himself on, how he was considerably humble, but he couldn’t deny how he longed for your approval. Even in the small things. A breath of relief was released from his chest as he watched you slowly nod yes. “Good.”
It was only then that Kuai Liang allowed a rare smile to appear on his lips. Your eyes fluttered open, and you couldn’t help but to internally swoon over the sight. How could you not? It was so precious and rare. You stared at his smile, trying to sear the image into your mind permanently.
Maybe instead of using his powers he should have just smiled instead. It made you feel warm enough.
BI-HAN
You pressed your forehead against Bi-Han’s, his hands drawing you closer to him. It was quiet in his room, even the quiet breaths between you two seemed almost too loud for the peace. And yet you did not complain. How could you? You were having a private moment with the man everyone swore was made of ice. 
“Stay with me.” The man murmurs, his voice breaking the silence. You smiled at his demand, although it was more appropriate to call it a plea. You nodded, not wanting to break the moment of vulnerability you were bestowed. Your hands reached up to cup his face, matching the way he was holding you. He took a deep breath in, as if the next word was a heavy burden. “Please.”
His hands held you in such a specific way. It was careful and loving, but it was in such a way that felt like he was hiding you away from the world. It was not in the way that appeared that he was ashamed, not at all. If anything, Bi-Han was proud to be yours. No, the way he held you was so…private. 
It was as if he were shielding the two of you from nonexistent prying eyes. This was a moment to be shared between the two of you, not anyone else. Not even the world itself was allowed to intrude in such a special and sacred moment. Now that was the way Bi-Han held you.
He held you like a treasure he wanted to keep all to himself.
Gone from his face was the usual stern look he wore. Instead it was replaced with a slightly vulnerable softer look. His eyebrows were not furrowed, instead lifted slightly. His eyes felt warm and full of silent admiration for no one else but you. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt all too lucky to be blessed with such a sight.
His hands, which were normally frosted over, were merely cool to the touch. It wasn’t uncomfortable, instead the gentle touch with the coolness made your heart flutter. His thumbs traced patterns on your cheeks, as if creating his own little snowflakes on your skin. The normally cold grandmaster’s drop from the eyes he seemed to get lost in a little too often towards your soft and pretty lips.
With a sharp inhale, he lifted his forehead away from yours for a moment. Unable to resist, the cyromancer placed a gentle kiss against your lips. His breath when he pulled away was cool against your lips. 
In this moment of vulnerability, he allowed a small, rare smile to grace his lips.
You swallowed, your eyes zeroing right onto the smile. How rare it was, how precious. How could you not help but gawk and admire? Despite your lover being a man who wielded ice, you found yourself melting all too easily into his gentle touches.
“Thank you for being here.” He murmured again, allowing himself to bare yet another part of his soul to you. Your thumbs traced his cheekbones and he knew the motion was answer enough. He closed his eyes, allowing himself to relax into your touch.
This was truly a moment that only you two were allowed to witness.
TOMAS VRBADA
As your forehead connected with Tomas’, you heard a sigh of exhaustion leave his lips. His arms draped around you lazily, almost having not enough energy to keep them around you. You let his weight lean onto you, almost letting the man nearly collapse on top of you. Another sigh left his lips as your hands kept his face close. It was almost as if you were keeping him up with your hands alone, at this point.
His eyes were shut, and you could see the hints of exhaustion begin to peek through his perfect face. As much as you knew he loved his new duties for the clan, you also knew he was beginning to hit his limits. Your thumb ran carefully across his face, almost like a little massage. The smallest of smiles appeared on his face at the little gesture.
“Training initiates are hard.” Tomas mumbled, and your heart nearly broke at how utterly tired he sounded. Even despite his exhaustion, you could tell the passion he had for his responsibilities. Still, it worries you no less. You hummed, an acknowledgement of his tiredness. You felt him lean a little more into your touch, allowing himself to indulge within the small moment you were sharing with him.
His arms moved around you a little less languidly, as if he found a second wind within your presence. And it was true, just being around you was enough to give him the strength to do more than he thought he could. Oftentimes when he felt like collapsing he thought of you waiting for him, and it gave him just enough energy to make it back into your arms every single day. 
With another sigh he pulled you closer, a sense of greediness in his actions. You let him, indulging him. His smile grew a bit as he nuzzled your nose against yours slowly. A laugh left your lips at the action, and Toma’s heart couldn’t help but leap at the sound. Just your laugh was enough to re-energize him. Did you know how much you meant to him?
“Thank you for waiting for me.” Tomas said, his voice dripping with all the love he held for you. He knew that sometimes you would wait long stretches of time for him to return after every day ever since he was entrusted with more responsibilities. You never complained, never whined, you just welcomed him back every day with open arms. 
He could ask for nothing more.
With a little chuckle, he squeezed you tightly. It was as if he was trying to show you how much he adored you, just how grateful he was with one giant hug. For that, you rewarded him with a small kiss, featherlight, right above his left eyebrow on his scar. It was a gesture Tomas swooned over. Even if you could not remove the scar itself, you could at least imbue better memories associated with it.
Even if he was given the weight of the world to balance on his shoulders, he would not complain as long as he had you to return to every night.
SHANG TSUNG
Your forehead pressed against Shang Tsung’s and suddenly it felt like the world didn’t matter. Your eyes closed, a sign of trust that Shang Tsung truly didn’t deserve. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, allowing you to pull yourself close to the sorcerer. His arms, meanwhile, draped in a most elegant manner around you.
In these small moments where you closed your eyes, Shang Tsung truly let himself indulge in the beauty that was you. His eyes scanned your face, noting all the features that truly made you one of a kind. All the little things that you perceived as quirks and imperfections seemed only to create a masterpiece for him. For a man who has been condemned to a life of misery by the universe, he was fortunate that it was kind enough to let him meet you.
As your eyes fluttered open, the man had to reel himself back in. His gaze, though still soft, became just the tiniest bit more guarded. His smile which had been so genuine became just a little more precise and practiced. It wasn’t as if he didn’t show any love, far from it. But he had to remember that with the ambitions and plans he held, he had to just be a little more protective of himself. It’d be simply foolish to show just how much he adored you.
Everyday with you, however, the cracks were getting harder and harder to conceal. 
“You look simply amazing my dear.” Shang Tsung complimented, raising a careful hand to stroke your cheek. Despite his compliment, that was not how he felt. He felt more for you, and you had no idea. You were stunning, gorgeous, divine, so much more than just amazing. But even all the words he could think of to describe you was not sufficient enough. For now, just amazing would do.
Your smile, which you blessed him with, had his heart aflutter. Before meeting you, Shang Tsung had little reservations about using others for his own gain. Others were simply an end to a means for him. And yet, with you, the idea of lumping you with the others he was quite ready to dispose of made him feel uneasy.
You were much more than just another stepping stone. Oh, but if the world were to know about his weakness for you, the universe would cast their cruel eyes upon you next. Selfish as the sorcerer was in keeping the truth of how deep his feelings were for you, he also saw it as a blessing. As long as the universe did not scorn you the way it did him, it was enough for now.
Letting the mask facade of how he felt slip just a touch, he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. With pride and satisfaction he felt your cheeks heat up just for him. Sometimes it comforted him to know that you felt perhaps a fraction of the love he truly held for you. 
Maybe one day, just maybe, he’d finally let you know just how much power you had over him and his heart.
MILEENA
Your forehead pressed against Mileena’s, and you wished it was enough to drive the whispers away. In the privacy of your shared chambers, it was quiet. It was a nice reprieve from the stress of the throne and the doubters of your lover that you so loathed. Your hands reached up to cup her pretty face that you adored, looking into her eyes.
A smile was on her face. It was a weary one. You knew while Mileena strove to be the best Empress she could be, and took great pride in it, she often was tired by the end of the day because of it. Even if it was not physically, the mental toll of being on top of such a throne was tough work. You did not envy the burden she shouldered, but there were times you wished you could share the burden of it just so she can rest a little bit better.
You knew you could not, so you did whatever else you could instead.
You moved your forehead away to press a few kisses to her forehead, wishing so desperately that it would abate the worries of doubt that were planted in her head. If not that, you hoped that your kisses at least passed along some of your own energy so she could power through. You wondered, for a moment, if it was possible to do that. Your thumbs traced her cheekbones, and you wondered silently to yourself how you were so lucky to become her lover. You nearly missed the adoring gleam in her eyes, and it was a look that made your breath catch.
“I’ll prove those doubters wrong, don’t worry.” Your empress promised, her voice fueled with the determination of a woman who has been scorned. You smiled, knowing she had been able to read you and your thoughts like a book. To be so in sync with your lover was a blessing you were ever thankful for. As an acknowledgement of her words, you gave her another kiss, this time pressing it upon the scar that went through her eyebrow.
You never doubted Mileena’s prowess. She had so much drive, how could you not? And yet, if you could, you would do anything to silence the doubters. How dare they question her rule, how could they not see  the wonderful woman who was born to rule? You often told yourself, to calm yourself down, that they were merely jealous of your lover. 
“There is nothing more I need than you to be by my side, dearest.” Mileena told you, her fingers tracing your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat, and you knew in that moment that if you could, you would stay by her side to always cheer her on. She didn’t even need to ask you.
You grabbed her hands, intertwining them with yours. You squeezed them tightly, trying to pour all the encouragement that you could not find enough words for in that one action. She returned the squeeze, a content sigh leaving her lips as her smile grew. 
Maybe you couldn’t help with every trouble she had, but you could at least make her smile…and maybe that was just enough.
KITANA
You pressed your forehead against Kitana’s brow, and finally you felt your worries dissipate. It was hard to be the lover of a Supreme Commander. Every day you feared for your lover’s life. It was not as if you doubted her prowess on the battlefield. It was far from that, you thought she was the best fit for Supreme Commander after all. Even if she was the best fit, you sometimes selfishly wished that someone else would take her place so she could stay safe.
You have never confessed this selfish little secret to her.
It was just that…war was cruel. You’ve heard and known the horrors of war and how death doesn’t discriminate. Sometimes accidents happen, or a death can come out of nowhere. You feared that one day it might take the best thing you have in your life. 
But now you didn’t need to worry, because now she was back and in your arms. You let out a sigh as you pressed your forehead a little more towards her. Meanwhile, your fingers traced the injuries she had suffered from the skirmishes she had gone through. You noted how the bandages from the medics were fresh. Your heart squeezed at the sight of them. If only civil war was not looming over Outworld, then she would not have to sacrifice herself out there on the battlefield. 
“It’s okay, I’m safe.” Kitana whispered, dragging you out of your worrying mind. Her fingers traced your cheek, and she looked at you with a gentle gaze. You marveled at her ability to whisk away your worries. Looking into her eyes alone calmed you down and made you feel like everything was alright. You wished you could do the same for her. Her other hand intertwined with yours, squeezing it gently. You noted how her hands were still remarkably soft for a woman who goes to war. A soft smile appeared on her face, and you could not help the way that your heart raced.
Words caught in your throat, and you found yourself unable to express the utter amount of love you felt for the princess. How could you express these overwhelming feelings that threatened to consume you? You figured it was impossible to ever express just how much she meant to you with words alone. Instead, you moved to press a few kisses on her injuries. If only you had the ability to heal her wounds just like that. Did she know you would do that for her? A light laugh left Kitana’s lips at your actions, and you swooned over the sound.
“I appreciate you.” She said, her voice light with the remnants of the laughter she had blessed upon you. Her hand squeezed yours again to punctuate her point. You smiled at her, wanting to ingrain the sight of her being happy and by your side forever into your mind. Your thumb rubbed small circles on her hand.
Maybe she had to go to war, it was a harsh reality you’ve accepted, but as long as she returned to be in your arms…that would be enough.
ASHRAH
Your forehead pressed against Ashrah’s, and the music in the background made the moment feel just perfect. A wide smile appeared on your face as you guided your lover through a slow dance. You watched with joy as your lover’s eyes were wide with admiration as you led her through the dance. You wondered for a moment if she knew how much you adored her in return. Surely she didn’t, how could she? The both of you swayed back and forth, enjoying the intimate moment.
“There was nothing like this back in the Netherrealm.” Ashrah marveled, a smile that made your heart melt on her lips. It was the very same smile she would give you every time you showed her the joys of Earthrealm. You could never tire of the sight, and you knew you’d do anything to see it over and over again.
That was exactly why you introduced her to the idea of slow dancing. You knew she would have probably never experienced anything like this. And you were right. You were honored to be her first ever dance partner. The twinkle in her eye showed that she was just as happy to have you guiding her through this dance.
Together with the memories you formed together, you knew she was creating more and more of a home within this realm. You hoped that you were included in her idea of home.
A laugh left your lips as you pulled her close, craving more contact. Despite her dexterity in combat, she was not used to dancing. Chuckles left the both of you as you stumbled a bit, tripping over each other’s feet. Luckily, she did not fall. Instead, you held her tightly. You gripped her hip tightly, making sure she was steady.
“Forgive me, I wasn’t expecting that.” Ashrah apologized after her laughter died down. You found you could only grin and shake your head at her apology. You two were out here to create memories and have fun, not to dance perfectly for anyone else. She could step on your toes every few seconds and you could care less. Her laughter alone made up for any mistakes she made. “Thank you for showing me these Earthrealm customs.”
Anytime, you thought. Honestly, you would do anything for her. It was hard to believe she was a demon with a heart as pure as her’s. You didn’t care though. Her past as a demon was often a source of confusion and concern for others, but never for you. All that mattered was who she was now, and she was simply fantastic.
“I think I quite like dancing.” Ashrah commented, pressing a light kiss upon your cheek. Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at her with eyes full of adoration. How could you not swoon over her? You returned the favor, pressing a few light kisses all over her face. You couldn’t help it. Another melodic laugh left her lips.
Yeah, you think you like dancing too.
HAVIK
Your forehead bumped against Havik’s and you enjoyed the moment of serenity that was brought with it. You watched as your lover’s eyes closed, a rare moment in which he allowed himself to relax. You couldn’t help but to feel honored by the small gesture. He was always fighting, striving to fight for what his ideals were, but around you the man felt no need.
You eyed his scars, the ones he had gotten as a slave. Carefully, you reached out to brush your fingers against his scars. The care you put into the touch was not necessary, you knew Havik was strong and a simple brush against them would not break the man. Yet it felt it was necessary, These were reminders of his harsh past, a memory of why he was out there, fighting.
Honestly, all of him was a canvas. You knew very well that your lover was capable of healing his wounds ever since he met Quan Chi. Had he wanted, you knew he could repair the wounds he had gained through all of his life. But he didn’t. His body was his story. Every bump, bruise, cut that left a mark became like a stroke of paint. You couldn’t help but adore how he kept his imperfections. Not many would.
“Most don’t realize why I keep those around.” Havik grunted. There was a sense of frustration in his tone, no one else but you understood the vision he saw for the future, let alone understood the way he thought. You knew though. Even if he were to forget everything about you, he knew he would recognize your understanding from the reverence you carried when you traced the past injuries he wore like a badge. Only others who understood his ideals for the future would do the same.
You also knew that he thought it looked more fearsome. A burnt and scarred man was much more striking than a normal man. Your fingers trailed up his body, mapping out the locations of his injuries with your touch. Then, you let your fingers rest on his jawline right below where his flesh turned into exposed gums and teeth.
“You understand me.” Your lover said, his voice filled with the same amount of admiration for you as it did when he spoke of his vision for Seidou. You couldn’t help the way your heart skipped a beat as you realized that fact. You bumped your forehead gently against his again. Seeing as he had no lips to kiss, the two of you had settled on forehead bumping instead.
You felt Havik raise a hand, his touch gentle as it gripped your chin. He wasn’t known for gentle touches or gestures, but you were the exception. Softly, he bumped his forehead against yours again. Then, he rubbed it back and forth affectionately. You were, perhaps, the only person in the world he would allow himself to be this quaint with.
It was all for you, the one who he considered to be a true partner.
CASSIE CAGE
Your forehead settled against Cassie’s, and suddenly you were disinterested in the movie in the background. Instead, you were far too preoccupied with the sight of your lover and how radiant she looked with the colors of the television shining against her skin. How was it that every type of color seemed to compliment her perfectly?
“I thought we were supposed to be watching a movie.” Cassie teased, her eyebrows raising as she sent you a playful grin. She was a hypocrite though, as her attention was more on you rather than the movie she had picked out. Her arm was slung around your shoulders and you were cuddled close together on the couch.
Today was one of her rare days off. Ever since she got promoted, she’s been busier than ever. And yet, there were moments you two managed to find and relax together. Tonight was supposed to be movie night, you let her pick anything she wanted…as long as it wasn’t one of her dad’s films. She rolled her eyes at your little stipulation, but agreed. Your lover saw enough of her dad at work.
Even with your little agreement, you found yourself entranced with Cassie more. I mean, how could you not be? Her smile just seemed to be more eye-catching than anything Hollywood could produce. You were so entranced by her, in fact, that you didn’t notice the hand that snuck up to pinch your cheek. You jolted in surprise, letting out a small laugh.
“Thought I lost you there!” Your lover giggled, her hand now cupping your cheek instead. Her thumb gently rubbed over the part she had pinched, as if to soothe it. She let out a small sigh as she moved to nuzzle your cheek before giving it an affectionate smooch. “You know, Grandma Carlton has been dying to meet you.” She confessed, her voice going a touch sentimental.
Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt excitement course through your veins. Has Cassie been telling good things about you to her grandmother? Upon seeing your giddy expression, she squeezed your shoulder with the hand that laid upon it. 
“Hey, have I ever told you how much I adore you?” Cassie asked, and you felt like you were falling all over again. Cassie must have taken acting lessons at one point, because she knew exactly how to make you swoon as if she were the lead in a movie. Her eyes glimmered with affection as she pressed another kiss to your cheek. 
A laugh that revitalized your soul came from your lover as you returned the favor and gave her a soft kiss back. In the midst of her laughter, you vaguely heard her mention how you were both definitely missing out on the plot. You didn’t care though, you were too busy admiring the real beauty in front of you.
Who needed movies? All you needed was Cassie, and you had a feeling she didn’t mind missing out too just for you.
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marknee · 2 years
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bts fanfics i personally think shakespeare would lose his job over in the 1500’s.
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chapter i. ✷ chapter ii.
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KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:
( ✮ ) — poor sod is on the floor. perhaps it’s shock?
( ♬ ) — he’s jealous he didn’t write this himself. well, it sucks to suck, mate.
( ✎ ) — currently handing him a tissue. give him a second.
( ♛ ) — both him and i lost our jobs. her majesty is ruthless.
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THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.
WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.
NOTE: without further ado, this are the fanfics that i think would cause shakespeare to lose his job: the first of many essays. let’s bring the guy to his knees. metaphorically.
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( ♛ ) THE BODYGUARD — by @rmnamjoons
!! bodyguard!namjoon x reader | 62.9k !!
bodyguard au, romance, smut, fake dating, slight angst if you squint, lil bit of violence.
firstly, we’re starting off strong. i present to you, the mother of all namjoon fanfics. and she’s a bad bitch. tbh, i feel like this fic needs a moment of silence just to relish in her glory. soak it all up. it’s essential.
this fic genuinely had me gobsmacked at how incredibly written it is. it delves into every detail and no aspect of the story is left dry. you can tell the author put their everything into creating this world you just submerge into. and it shows.
the world building is amazing, the characters are so thought out, and it feels like you’re just on this adventure with them and discovering their story as it plots out.
also, the build up to the smut? out of this world. that’s one thing i love about this fic: it doesn’t feel rushed. everything is very spaced out and takes it’s sweet time, so when you get to the chocolately nut of the ferrero rocher, it’s like gold and well earned. and you can enjoy it.
honestly, it’s been months since i read this and i think about it every day. i did do some research (for my own peace of mind) and this fic is longer than the perks of being a wallflower. and is it better? yes. sorry not sorry.
this work of art deserves to be read and loved. and i rest my case, your honour.
( ✎ ) UNTIL THE LAST STAR FALLS — by @minniepetals
!! underworld lords!bts x shield!reader | 44.4k !!
reincarnation!au, poly!au, gods!au, unrequited love, minor character death, car accidents.
quick question — for science — how does one happen to lose all their memories without any sustaining any internal or external injuries? because the things i would do to read this again for the first time. and i do not use those words lightly.
this was my first ever ‘longer’ written fic. and if i’m being honest, i never really liked to read them because i have the attention span of a goat. but this fic lures you in from the very start and time slips away like smoke. to say, it definitely left its mark on me.
it’s so brilliantly written and you feel connected to the characters both mind and soul. you want the best for them, you want to save them, you actually want to crawl into the pages (or screen) and fucking help them out. and that sold it to me, i think. just the sheer love for these characters.
i balled when i read the last few sentences. i didn’t want it to end. i think i finished it at three in the morning and sent a voice note of me crying to my friend. tmi? well, now on my christmas list is 7 hot boys in the underworld who would risk their everything for me. and i, them.
worth every single second. trust.
( ♬ ) WARM THIS WINTER — by @jamaisjoons
!! seokjin x reader ft. ex-boyfriend jungkook | 51.6k !!
christmas!au, vacation!au, angst, fluff, smut (18+).
one thing about solaris, is she never misses. if i could, i think i’d recommend every fanfic she ever put out, but that’s too much effort for me when you could simply click her masterlist. so, i’ll wait here for you to do that. make sure you come back though.
love. sure, there are hundreds- perhaps, thousands of fics on this app about it. so what makes this one different? well, that’s just it. the sorrowful honesty of love. knowing when it’s over, and when it’s blooming in the midst.
i’ve never been in love, but frankly, this fic really spelt it out for me. the pain, the joy, the lingering memories after everything is said and done. it’s all there. and it really settles in your heart as you near the end.
this work pulled on every single heartstring of mine, stamped on them, and then proceeded to sew anew for the future to bring its own miseries. and i enjoyed it more than i can say (or type).
give this a read if you need just that bit of spark in your life. and that bit of sadness, too.
( ✮ ) STRIKE A CHORD — by @snackhobi
!! yoongi x reader | 15.8k !!
smut (18+), pianist!yoongi.
i don’t know what it is about this fic, but i come back to it whenever it pops up in my mind during my day. i’ll immediately unlock my phone and open this app, knowing i’ll feel better when the last word is read. and i feel content.
the atmosphere in this fic, if i may, feels as though you’re trapped in a warm, safe bubble with hazed music in the distance and soft light spilling through the thin layer of the bubble— not too dark, but enough to make you feel drowsy and peaceful. perhaps that’s why i return to it so often. i like how it makes me feel.
yoongi as an artist is already enough to make a person swoon, but as a pianist? i need a lie down. a cold towel to the head. just the whole characterisation of him in this fic needs a whole separate essay in itself, but you’ll understand my point when you read it.
forever a comfort fic, i think. and forever a comfort person. double whammy. case closed.
( ✎ ) THE END — by @jimlingss
!! seokjin x reader | 31k !!
fifty percent fluff, fifty percent angst, loosely inspired by to all the boys i’ve loved before.
i say this with my whole chest: i have never underestimated the amount of emotions you can experience during a fanfic, until i read the end— both literally and metaphorically. shock horror.
this fanfic takes you through the adventure of the reader learning of what her future would commence if she were to marry either one of the six members. best part? she’s led through this rollercoaster journey by the ghost of kim seokjin.
first impression to such an offer? sign me the fuck up. i mean, what more could you ask for? however my final impression went a bit more on the lines of what the fuck just happened. very different ends of the spectrum, if you ask me.
i decided to hand both shakespeare and i a tissue after this great piece of art was finished because not only was i sobbing, he was on the floor knowing his romance play of pericles could never live up to such an incredible story.
this fic was a rollercoaster i would be delighted to get onto for another ride.
( ✎ ) A UNIVERSE TO YOU — by @readyplayerhobi
!! soulmate!hoseok x reader | 41k !!
fluff, angst, smut (18+), soulmates!au.
shakespeare once said (according to google), “it is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves,” and if this fic wasn’t a soulmate!au, i think i would’ve agreed in some sorts. but as it is, in fact, a soulmate!au, i’m obliged to disagree. it was destiny i read this fic, hand on heart.
i was not expecting this fic to hit me in the feels as hard as it did. as you can tell by the other works listed in this essay of recommendations, soulmate!au’s come up a lot. and with a lot of the same plots flying around on this app, it’s hard to make one stand out. but this author definitely has a gift.
everything was so richly created it made you feel full. of wonder, of love, and of want. it made you crave it for yourself. and that’s what i love about this fic. it just makes you feel… good. and with the unfortunates of life currently, it’s one to get your head stuck in for some temporary relief.
dream soulmate? he’s right here, people. just enjoy the story and all the feels that float around your body. go on.
( ✮ ) BUNNY — by @btssmutgalore
!! jungkook x fem!reader | 46.5k !!
non-idol!au, camboy!jk, friends to lovers, smut, angst.
let’s start here: never judge a book by its cover. a quote by george eliot going all the way back to the 19th century, and one i would use to describe this series as a whole, and my first impressions towards it.
this series, although unfinished (i think), has exceeded my expectations of a good smut outlined by a good plot. the best of both worlds, if you might. i came out of this series deeply in awe of the writing and the clear imagery the author manages to create within your own mind.
additionally, bunny was the beginning for me in learning about the world of camboys and camgirls(?), but i was greatly surprised. often, people are unkind to the new and stick to what they’re accustomed to, afraid of what the unknown might bring — me, included.
but, i’m glad i took the risk because i received three great things in return: a beautiful fanfic, knowledge of something that was foreign to me, and an author whose work i admire and shall be returning to in the future.
perhaps what i’m getting at is this could be a lesson to all. take a risk of something unknown because who knows? maybe something great will come out of it, and you’ll learn something. i did.
( ♬ ) SEOUL UNDERGROUND — by @hunniejimins (ao3)
!! namjoon x jungkook x f!reader | 300k !!
mafia!au, enemies to lovers, violence, slow burn, love triangles, mob boss!namjoon, smut, heavy angst.
it’s ironic really. i found this work by someone else’s recommendation, and now i’m passing on the favour and recommending it to you, dear reader. it’s funny how the world works.
this work is the perfect balance of fantasy and reality and i love it. you’re hit with the beauty and clouded haze of love before being smacked back into the world at the realisation the very person you’re in love with, is a mafia mob boss and his killer mate. a real fun-sponge, i tell ‘ya.
nevertheless, this book kept me up early morning and late evening reading. it keeps you hooked, wanting, and hungry for more.
it’s nothing less of a masterpiece.
( ✎ ) CREAM AND SUGA — by @snackhobi
!! yoongi x barista f!reader | 14.8k !!
coffee shop!au, barista!au, fluff, nfsw (18+).
@snackhobi is mentioned twice on this list. though, can you blame me? it’s just a good thing shakespeare and this author don’t exist in the same century. it would be absolute carnage but nobody is ready for that conversation.
this author has a talent of portraying yoongi in the most irresistible way possible. i swear, i fall in love with him all over again reading. i wish you understood.
the whole misunderstanding section made me laugh because haven’t we all been there? the crushing pain and overwhelming guilt of having a crush on someone you can’t have. it’s all too real, seriously. been there, done that (unfortunately).
especially having the holidays just past, this is a perfect fic for a warm evening in, while the coldness of winter storms past outside. such a cute fic. love, love, love!
( ♛ ) LOST AND FOUND — by @taleasnewastime
!! seokjin x reader | 21.2k !!
strangers to lovers, fluff, angst, sfw.
everyone says they have a fanfic that changed them, whether they’re being hyperbolic or brutally honest. and in my case, it’s a matter of both latter and former.
a couple months ago, i reached what i thought was rock bottom regarding my mental state and i took to my imagination to save me from the daily hell of my own mind. and this book was one i never really forgot about.
everything this author wrote within this fic was honest, heartfelt and very, very real. from the way you don’t just go up after going through something, but fall occasionally and sometimes feel as though you’re back at square one, to the way that there definitely is hope in the dark moments, and a light at the end of the tunnel. albeit a very faint one.
it comforted me in a way and reminded me of what i thought to be lost. fruitless, even. but sometimes, it’s books like these that open our eyes to things we’ve forgotten during times of turmoil: the simple goodness of life. and of people.
“if you’re going through hell, keep going.” winston churchill.
( ✮ ) CANDYLAND — by @honeymoonjin
!! seokjin x reader ft. elf!jk | 13k !!
thriller, angst, fantasy, husband!jin, some cursing.
my mother is the biggest thriller fan. not that you needed to know that, but she is. and she’s not ashamed of it either. she’ll let you know if she’s reading a really good thriller in the moment. trust me, you’ll know.
me? not so much. i’m more of a sappy, hopeless romance, happy ending kind-of-sod — if you haven’t already guessed from this list. but there’s a reason this fic is on the list, too.
this fic genuinely kept me on the edge of my seat- uh, bed. the secrets of what darkness lingered behind the happy exterior of this adventure trip gripped my eyes to the screen, and lord, was it worth it.
throw a bit of husband!seokjin in there too? what more could you want! and written by @honeymoonjin? what a win.
let’s just say after this fic i added a few other thrillers to my basket. and happily reported to my mum i was a changed woman. okay, i’m exaggerating, but you get my point. it was incredible.
( ✎ ) LILY LUCK — by @gguksgalaxy
!! yoongi x reader | 10.7k !!
soulmates!au, angst, fluff if u squint, very slight implicit sexual content, anxiety.
although this fic may be the shortest on the list, do not underestimate its power. it is still as mighty as the others— perhaps, even more so.
i think the main emotion i want to hone into concerning this fanfic is compassion. it sinks into your bones and surrounds your entire being like a unwanted hug. and you can’t even stop it.
the author does a good job of making you feel intense compassion for the reader — who so desperately wants to meet her soulmate. which makes the ending that much more satisfying.
this is for those who’re lonely, need a pick up, or those who’re hopeless romantics and believe in love belonging to fate, such as myself.
“expectation is the root of all heartache.” william shakespeare. talking of the devil, he would definitely cry over this fic. either of bubbling emotions, or the fact he didn’t write it himself. sucks really. for him, not for me.
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© marknee, 2023. all rights reserved.
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mcflymemes · 3 months
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AS SAID BY KASUMI GOTO *  assorted dialogue from mass effect 2 and 3, adjust as necessary
i swear to god, i didn't touch anything.
in case i don't see you again, thanks. that was a lot of fun.
and the "boxers or briefs" question is finally answered.
there's a certain aura about you. like you've seen things no one else has.
there's no way you're recruiting me to fight in a galactic war.
i wouldn't bring you here if it wasn't dangerous.
this is our stop.
you say the nicest things.
i'm a thief. stealing? it's who i am.
by the way, are you going to call security?
hey, come on. i never get caught.
ugh, i really need to avoid dairy.
you know, twenty years from now, this could be worth a fortune.
all right. i'm in.
nice working with you again.
this place has more money than it knows what to do with.
well... nobody's perfect.
hey, i'm nostalgic, not dead.
i like the seedier towns. they're prettier.
maybe when we're done with the mayhem thing, i could come back and... recover a thing or two.
now stop bothering me!
this is all i have left.
i imagine with all that's happened, old friends are becoming a luxury.
you know what i haven't had in ages? ramen.
come back later. i'm sure i'll have more to talk about.
i'm not really sure what to do with myself.
i'll stay off the grid. no one will know i exist.
well, that didn't go as expected.
we've never seen each other in person.
no one knows what i look like.
if we're lucky, you won't even have to draw your gun.
i always expect trouble. that's why you're here.
we should probably wrap this up.
see you on the ship.
you'd look really out of place at a society party in armor, don't you think?
i was just thinking about you.
i go through everyone's drawers.
[name] won't be able to keep his eyes off you.
getting it back will be easier with your help.
please tell me your password, [name].
good to finally meet you. i'm a fan.
my grandmother used to make the best ramen.
honestly, i'm shocked they didn't come to see me sooner.
it's my fault for being hard to find.
i'm the best thief in the business, not the most famous. need to watch my step to keep it that way.
i needed to make sure all this was legit.
you're the real deal.
even without knowing what you looked like, i knew it was you.
that's a bit of a story.
they were looking for me, so i trailed them to find out why.
i guess it slipped their minds.
i'm planning to get it back.
you'll get a briefing when the time comes.
i have a way in, and i think you're going to love it.
you'll want to look presentable.
you look great. you should wear this stuff more often.
you have been waiting patiently.
they won't hassle you over a sidearm.
you have excellent taste in underwear.
i thought about living here for a while, but everybody's so tight-ass.
it's all about money to these people.
i do what i do for the love of it. these people do it because they don't know any better.
i'm not a scientist.
this is why i don't put strange liquids in my mouth.
it's a plant!
was i that obvious?
people are talking out there... and i hear it all.
sounds like you two had a nice date.
it's nice to be able to look out a window for a change.
how many bedrooms does this place have?
i'm not really lactose intolerant, i just don't put up with lactose's stupid drama.
there's something about the feel of actual paper in your hands.
92 notes · View notes
dreamingofep · 13 days
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Forbidden Love pt. 5 💔❣️
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Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)
Prompt: Reuniting with Elvis was supposed to be the highlight of your summer, but with unresolved tensions between you two, things aren't what they seem. Fem! reader]
TW: Cussing, teasing, little angst, little fluff, SMUTT!!!
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 7.4k
A/N: Hello everyone! Forgive me for taking so long to write this part. It's been quite busy since coming back from Elvis week and for whatever reason, I could not write anything spicy to save my life. I felt it was so bland and missing something! Then it finally hit me of what this needed heh.😏 I hope this was worth the wait! I'm happy with how this part turned out 🤭
*
You couldn’t sleep that night. Your brain would not shut off and all you could do was think of those damn hands touching you in all the right places. It felt even worse that John was inches away from you fast asleep. You decide to get up and read in the living room to see if that’ll make you go to sleep faster. You needed the space. Sleeping next to someone tonight just felt wrong. 
You turn on the small lamp next to the sofa and pick up something off of your bookshelf. You read the first few pages but you find yourself thinking about Elvis. About his eyes. About his hands. About how good he made you feel without you saying what you wanted. You were upset at yourself for thinking such things. You should have walked out once you found out Dianne wasn’t there. But you didn’t. You stayed and let Elvis take care of every last desire you had last night. 
You grunt frustrated and slam your book closed. You slump into the couch and try to get him off your mind. You must have laid there for hours and nothing was working. Those damn hands were taunting you even when they weren’t touching you. Your eyes finally feel heavy and you doze off to sleep. 
*
You woke up a bit jolted, not knowing what time it was. It was only eleven o’clock and you didn’t work til later in the afternoon so that made you relieved. John walks into the room dressed for the day and looks surprised you’re out here on the couch. 
“What are you doing out here?” He asks surprised.
“I couldn’t sleep last night. I didn’t want to bother you so I came out here to read,” you explain. 
“Mmm, okay. I’m about to head to work. Do you work tonight?” He asks. 
“Not til four,” you tell him. 
“Okay see you,” he says as he goes for the front door. He quickly stops and pats his pockets. “Shit where’s my keys,” he mumbles to himself.  He goes back to the bedroom to search for them. 
The shrill sound of the phone ringing makes you jump off the sofa and run to the kitchen to answer it. 
“I got it!” You yell out. 
You quickly grab the blue phone off the wall and bring it to your ear. 
“Hello?” You say very chippy. 
“Hi, baby. Just the voice I wanted to hear,” he purred. 
Elvis. 
You feel yourself crumble a bit hearing that smooth, tenor voice ring into your ear. He sounded like pure, smooth honey and was intoxicating your veins just getting to hear his voice again.
Baby? God, it was so sweet and endearing. You liked how it sounded coming from his mouth. You actually liked it way too much. Especially when he grumbled it low in your ear as his cock was buried inside of you…
You try to snap yourself out of the delusional memory and clear your throat. 
“What do you want Elvis?” You say low, just in case John comes in. 
He chuckles slightly, “damn, I can’t just call you to see how you are?” He asks coyly. 
You snap, “You didn’t for the last eleven years so I don’t understand why you would start now,” you scowl. There was a long pause on the other side of the telephone. You knew you got under his skin. You honestly didn’t care your words were borderline mean. It was the truth and it still hurt you. Even after everything you two did yesterday, it didn’t make up for the pain of losing a friend after all these years. 
The silence continued and he still didn’t say anything. You feared he might have hung up. 
“Elvis?” You whisper. 
“I want you to come over.” He says. His tone made your hair stand up. This wasn’t a question, it was a command. 
“What?” You hiss. 
“I want you here, now,” he sneered. 
“No,” you snap back, “I’m not going over when John is there,” you explain. It was all too risky. You didn’t trust Elvis to be subtle about anything. 
“I won’t ask again honey. I need you over here,” he says and the sound of the receiver clicks. 
You hotly hang up the phone and put your hands on your hips. This man made you extremely frustrated. Who does he think he is? Ordering you around like you’re just some kid. He had never spoken to you like this. 
But damn it curiosity was getting the best of you. What the hell did he want! What could he possibly want from you? You already told him you were not doing anything… salacious with him. It was the heat of the moment and you swore it would not happen. You were just there twelve hours ago. You were not going to let him have his way again. 
You quickly put a dress on and fix up your hair. 
“John don’t leave, I’m coming with you,” you yell out, hoping he hasn’t left yet. You put on some mascara and lipstick and rush out to the living room. John gives you a confused look. 
“Why do you want to go to Elvis’?” He asks confused. 
Your brain scrambles for a logical explanation. Nothing seemed like a good enough reason and you panic. 
Because he told me to come over and I can’t say no to him. 
“Well umm… that was his housekeeper that called. I forgot my pie plate and she also wanted me to write down my recipe so she could make it for Elvis whenever he wanted,” you say nonchalantly. The lie you constructed seemed good enough. John shrugs his shoulders not really caring for the story but doesn’t protest. 
“Oh okay whatever, let’s go,” he says as he goes to the front door. You sigh a breath of relief that he bought the story and you wouldn’t have to elaborate anymore. You quickly rush to the passenger side and get in, zooming down Sunset Boulevard, not knowing what state you’ll find Elvis in. Is he going to be really upset by your brazen behavior? No, you had to stay firm in your feelings. You can’t just forgive him like that. He can’t just waltz into your life again after all these years and try to act like nothing happened. 
With your wandering thoughts clouding your judgment, you realize you both were about to pull into the rod iron gates of Hillcrest house, seeing Elvis standing out in the driveway with a cigar in his mouth. His expression was blank and unwavering. He wore a dark green shirt and black slacks, with a colorful scarf that hung around his neck. A few strands of hair fell down on his forehead and gave him this dark, brooding look. You take a deep breath and pray this visit won’t be long. 
You try your best to act like nothing is bothering you. That this is going to be a brief visit and what you two did last night will not be even thought about while being under his roof. You nonchalantly walk past Elvis and give the most gracious and polite greeting. 
“Hi Elvis, nice to see you,” you say shortly, giving him a weak hug and walk into the house like it’s your own. He didn’t even hug you back. 
You walk into the cool air-conditioned house and don’t exactly know where to go. You didn’t want to be right in the middle of the entryway if Elvis decided to walk in right after you. You decided to go to the kitchen and actually act like you were getting the pie plate you forgot. 
The kitchen was clean and well-organized. There was lots of natural light that poured into the room and the smell of something in the oven made your mouth water. On the back counter, you do see your cleaned pie plate sitting there. The housekeeper walked into the kitchen and was surprised you were in there.
“Hi y/n what a nice surprise, I wasn’t expecting you to stop by,” she says sweetly. 
“Oh yeah, I’m sorry about that. I just stopped by to say hi to Elvis and get my pie plate from last night,” you explain. 
“Oh not a problem dear, I cleaned it for you,” she says as she goes to pick it up from the counter and hands it to you. “You’ll have to give me the recipe, Elvis was going on and on about how great it is to all of the guys. It was gone by the morning,” she laughs.
Your lie somehow got construed into reality and you don’t exactly know what to say but your nervous energy gets the best of you and you laugh too.
“Oh yes of course! Did you know it’s always been his favorite? I used to make it all the time when I’d visit Graceland. Any party he’d throw, I knew I needed to bake something or he’d pout about it if I didn't,” you giggle. That memory does make you genuinely happy. Those were such good times and wish you could go back and relive them.
“I don’t doubt it, honey. That sounds just like Elvis,” she says gleefully, “Let me grab you a pen and paper. Did you enjoy dinner last night?” 
You pause and have to nervously look always from her. You nod your head at her and try to put on your best smile. 
“Oh yes, it was absolutely delicious! You really outdid yourself,” you try to say even though you didn’t have a bite of it last night. 
It ended up on the floor along with your clothes. 
“I’m sorry about the little accident, we were clumsy and the plate fell,” you try to explain. She flashes you a confused look. 
“What accident? There was nothing out of place this morning when I got here,” she tells you. 
Elvis must have cleaned up the mess he made after you left which left you shocked honestly. Elvis always had someone helping him out with any sort of task. Even years ago, he always had a small group of guys that would go out with him anywhere he went. You see by the size of his entourage now that same principle applies. Even at Graceland, he always had two housekeepers working for him that would do anything he asked. They’d make any meal for him and clean up after him too. It really did shock you she didn’t walk in this morning to find the shattered plates and wasted dinner on the marble floor like when you left. 
“Yeah… umm, Elvis accidentally broke a dish but he must have cleaned it up after I left,” you say a bit timidly. 
“He broke one of the plates? Agh that boy really needs to be more careful! He’s always breakin’ stuff. But I’m glad you enjoyed the meal. It’s one of my favorites to make. I can give you the recipe if you’d like?”
She stops suddenly and looks past your shoulder, wearing a smile on her face, “Oh, hi Elvis we were just talking about you. Is there anything I can get you?” She asks sweetly.
You turn around quickly and hold your breath when you look at him. He was standing closer to you than you were expecting and of course, he was looking criminally good. You shouldn’t be surprised anymore but you still find yourself looking at him in awe. He has a cute smile on his face, the same one he’d give you when he saw you walk in the front door of Graceland. 
“No that’s alright dear thank you. I just wanted to talk to y/n privately if you don’t mind,” he says charmingly.
“Oh of course dear. I’ll be around if you need anything,” she says courtly and walks out of the kitchen quickly.
Now you two were alone again and the tension between you two could be cut with a knife. The way he looks at you… God, those eyes are scorching, blazing with an intense heat. He was like a vortex you couldn’t escape. Why would you? The way his eyes melt into your body and make you feel uncomfortably warm just being in his presence. You watch as his eyes drink you in. Like you’re his favorite drink on this warm June day and he can’t get enough of you. You’re coming to learn that you feel incredibly insecure when he does this. How his eyes are undressing you in plain sight and how he lingers on certain parts of you. You cross your arms against your body so he can get the message you don’t appreciate his rude stares.
“What did you want?” You ask more gently than you did when you asked him on the phone earlier.
He takes a few steps closer to you, not breaking his heated gaze. You back up slightly and huff when you feel your backside hit the counter. You had nowhere else to go and Elvis keeps walking closer to you. He puts his hands on your hips and slowly pulls you into his body. You both sigh and you look up into those big, pleading blue eyes of his.
“I missed you,” he murmurs holding you. He leans down and places a soft kiss on the crook of your neck. You take in a sharp breath when you feel his soft lips touch your skin. You try to hold back the pleased sigh you want to make. He felt too good pressed against you and he knew it.
You push at his chest slightly to get him to look at you.
“No you didn’t,” you mumble. He stares darkly at you, not liking your response.
“Why would I say it then,” he growls. Your heart gallops by his tone and the look he’s giving you. 
“I don’t know. We’ve only spent a few hours together, I doubt it was life changing for you…” You look away quickly, not wanting to see his reaction to that, “I don’t really know you anymore Elvis, have you forgotten that?” You say weakly. You slowly push at his chest more so he gives you space. He obliges and frustratedly ruffles his hand through his hair.
“Shit,” he grumbles to himself as he turns away from you momentarily. You nervously watch him pace the kitchen like a caged tiger, sighing and cursing under his breath. His energy made you feel on edge and you’re not sure if you should leave or if that’s going to make him more upset.
He stops and turns back to you, his eyes serious and dark.
“You regret it, don’t you?” He says shortly. You look at him stunned, you feel the air get sucked out of you.
“No, of course not,” you tell him.
“No, don’t lie. Just tell me. Do you not trust me? What is it,” he snaps a little too loudly for your liking.
“Keep your voice down,” you snarl, “I’m telling you the truth Elvis. I don’t regret anything. You just can’t act like everything is fine between us all because we had-,” you stop yourself quickly before saying it out loud. You still couldn’t wrap your head around the last twenty-four hours. None of this seemed real. His eyes were hurt when they looked at you. He didn’t like how you were dismissing most of the moments you had together so far.
He walks back towards you, trying to recollect himself before speaking.
“What can I do then? What can I do to make you realize my words are genuine?” He asks, bringing his hand to your cheek and softly caressing it. You couldn’t denounce how nice it felt to have him touch you so tenderly. You look up into his hurt eyes and see how he’s waiting on bated breath for an answer from you.
You place your hand over his and gently pull it down from your face.
“By starting to treat me like a friend again. I told you, I’ve missed my friend for so long,” you admit, holding his hand in yours.
He sighs, fluttering his eyes and shaking his head slightly.
“Honey, I’m sorry but that’s really hard for me,” he declares.
“It might take some time, yes, but I think it could be nice. We can start over and catch up. I know there’s been so much you’ve been up to and-,” You start to ramble but he cuts you short.
“No, honey, I don’t think you understand me. I don’t think I can just be your friend anymore I-… I want something more from you,” he insinuates as he brings your hand up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand. Another spark rushes through you as you feel him touch you.
“Jesus Elvis,” you sigh, “No, we can’t. Have you forgotten I’m married to someone,” you say a bit defeatedly.
“No I haven’t, but you’re not happy. Just the way you said that sounded like it’s a burden,” he says bluntly.
You freeze and realize he’s right. You think you’ve felt like this for a while but have buried it deep down inside you. You’ve been so focused on just getting by and not realizing that the foundations of the house you made with that man, the one you made vows to, have detrimentally cracked. 
“Elvis please, don’t make this harder than it actually has to be,” you sigh. 
He pulls you into his arms again, trying to comfort you in any way he can.
“Let me make it easy then. I want you to trust me. I want you to come to me and tell me about anything you need. I don’t want this to be difficult at all. I really think we need to be in each other’s lives at his point in time,” he tries to reason. 
Maybe he is right. Maybe it all comes down to timing. Back in ‘58, it wasn’t the time to be as close as you were so he got shipped off to the army. And even when he came back, it wasn’t time to rekindle your friendship right away. What if it all leads to this moment, in this kitchen, in this house, with him holding you in his arms? Your stomach twists nervously, you didn’t like being out in the open where anyone could walk in seeing you two embraced in each other’s arms.
“Can we talk somewhere more private? I don’t want anyone hearing this conversation or walking by,” you say quietly. He quickly nods his head and motions you to follow him through the house. You prayed he wasn’t going to take you to the bedroom as that would be all too telling what you two might be doing in there. You pull at his arm when you two reach the doorway of his room.
“No please, not in there,” you say worriedly.
“It’s fine honey. No one bothers me in here,” he tells you. You check behind you to make sure no wandering eyes can see you and quickly get in the room with him.
You hold your breath as you take in the space once again. Only one drape was open today and let the golden California sunshine gleam in. You glance at the well-made bed and can’t help but relive some of those moments you two shared there. You sit on the corner of the bed, hunched in stature, not sure where you should start this conversation. 
“I do trust you, you know that right? Even though you’ve changed throughout the years, I know that my old friend is still in there somewhere,” you say pointing at the vicinity of his chest. He smiles because of this and nods his head.
“I’m sorry, but I’m here now. Anything you need, I’ll give it to you,” he says as he takes a seat beside you.
“I don’t need anything from you Elvis I-,” your voice cracking as you feel emotions hit you like a train. “You’re right I-, I haven’t been happy. It's been quite some time since I’ve been truly happy. I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore, you know?” You say as tears start rolling down your cheeks. He gently wipes them away and wraps you in his arms again.
“I do, I understand honey. I’m sorry you’ve been going through that,” he says tenderly.
“It’s not your fault, you don’t need to be sorry,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his body. “It’s just been so hard. We’re barely getting by and my acting dreams are in ruin. He doesn’t care about my feelings or what I want in life anymore. He doesn’t care about the career I want. He is just so bitter towards me. I can’t even remember the last time I was truly content with my life. I hate it all. I hate who I’m becoming... It’s like I’ve lost a piece of myself you know” you sniffle, looking hopelessly into his eyes.
He pauses deep in thought, “yes honey, believe me, I know exactly how that feels,” he says timidly.
He lets you cry, no words being said was the right thing to do. He runs his hand through your hair, soothing you without even trying. He makes you feel at peace. Just the very presence of him has you happier than you’ve been in ages.
“Was I able to take your worries away, even for a short time?” He asks innocently. You lift your head off of his shoulder and look into those intoxicating blues.
“Yes, you did,” you tell him.
“If that’s what you need me to be, then I have no problem with that. I’ll be whatever you need me to be. If you need to cry, I’ll be here to comfort you. If you need someone to talk to, I’ll listen,” he explains as he slowly slides his hand to the back of your neck, keeping you looking at him. “If you need me to show you physically, how incredibly beautiful you are… I can do that too,” he coos. 
Your heart skips in your chest, unable to take what he’s saying. In comparison to him, you did not feel beautiful or worthy of being showered with his praise.  
You sigh, “you know that last part can’t happen,” you say weakly. 
“Baby,” he sighs, caressing you in his arms, and placing soft kisses on your forehead. “Last night was… one of the best nights of my life. It’s something I’ll never forget. I’m sorry I made you wait so long,” he says softly. 
That just about knocked the wind out of you. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, you had thoughts about over the years what it would be like to be with Elvis. In some weird way, he knew you had. Especially after he left for the army. Those memories of the night you shared were etched into your brain forever. You’d lay there late at night, remembering how much you wanted him here in your bed, caressing your body and taking care of every last need you had. 
“Don’t be sorry,” you mumble looking down at your shaking hands. You couldn’t handle being this close to him. 
“Please forgive me for how I’ve acted. I should have taken care of you that night. I should have been here, treating you better,” he says, grazing your arm with the softest touch. 
You look back at him and can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth. It was everything you had been waiting for him to say to you. It felt like some weird dream but he was very much real and telling you just what you needed. 
“It’s okay…” you mumble, looking at his lips. 
“I-, honey I want to take care of you,” he whispers. 
You shake your head, “I don’t deserve that honey,” you try to reason. 
“Yes, you do. Let me show you how much I want you. I want you here with me. I couldn’t sleep all last night,” he grumbles, placing his hand on the inside of your thigh. You jump slightly at his touch. It was so alluring and you had to fight to move it higher. 
“I know, I couldn’t sleep either. I was up late thinking about you,” you whimper. 
He squeezes your thigh, liking to hear that you were thinking the same things last night. He grumbles softly to himself when you place your hand on his leg too. 
“What were you thinkin’ about honey?” He asks gently. 
“Just not believing what had happened. That it was real,” you say blushing. 
“I know, I was in a bit of shock once you left,” he says jokingly. He scoots back on the bed with the pillows against his back. He reaches out his hand for you. “Come here baby,” he pleads. 
It took everything in you to fight the want to sit next to him on his bed. This would be the perfect opportunity to leave. Keep it on good terms and keep your clothes on. But he always knows how to pull you in and get his way. 
You go to him and crawl back on the bed where he’s sitting. Before you have the chance to sit next to him, he quickly lifts you up and sits you on his lap. You look at him stunned, not able to move from his very shocking behavior. 
“I just want you close baby,” he says coyly. “What else were you thinkin’ about that was keepin’ you up so late,” he says low, his hand firmly around your waist. His hands felt like quicksand. Every touch and caress made you weaker and melt into his lap.
“I was thinking how much I liked your lips on mine,” you tell him, rubbing his soft lips with your index finger. “And how I loved it when they gave me the most satisfaction I've felt in years,” you sigh. His eyes light up when he hears this, you absent-mindedly twirl the scarf around his neck with your other hand, feeling how soft it is. 
“Mmm, good baby.” He grumbles as he pulls you in for a kiss. There was no hesitation from you, your lips eagerly met his and you two clashed like wildfire. His heat consumed yours and you both ached for more from each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. 
He makes small groans as he kisses you more while his hands freely roam your body. You knew you said to yourself you’d try to denounce him, that you swore you wouldn’t find yourself in this situation again, but damn it you loved being in his arms. You pull at his scarf and take it off of him, tossing it to the floor. You sneak your hand into his shirt and feel his soft skin. He sighs and stops kissing you briefly.
“Was I right the other day?” He asks with a serious tone.
“Right about what?” You say a little confused and dazed.
“That you still think about my hands when you’re alone? When you’re touching yourself,” he says slyly, his hand snaking up your calf. You take a sharp breath in as you feel his fingers creep higher under your dress and rest on the inside of your thigh. You make a frustrated groan and bury your face in the crook of his neck, trying to hide the way your cheeks are flushed from the filthy thoughts you’ve had over the years. His fingers creep higher until they find your lace panties, resting his hand there. You squeeze at his arm, fighting the way your hips want to lean into his touch.
You feel your heart beat loudly in your chest and don’t know what to say to him. You just can’t tell him some of the things that have crossed your mind. He’s patient, coaxing the answers out of you as his fingers start to gently circle your clit. Wetness pools in your panties and you’re dying for him to be inside of you.
“Tell me, baby, I wanna know,” he murmurs.
You kiss his neck and grumble frustratedly. You look back up at him and see his pleading eyes look back into yours.
“Yes you were right,” you huff, placing a kiss on his cheek and hiding your face in his neck once again. His fingers continued to tease while his other hand helped spread your legs apart. He lifts your face to look back up at him and he has the most pleased look. 
“I know. I know because I haven’t stopped thinking ‘bout you,” he says as you gasp from the friction he’s giving you.
“God those hands kill me…” you grumble. He hums softly and continues to tease.
You grasp onto his shirt and tear at it frustratedly. You couldn’t handle how much you needed him. His fingers pull your panties to the side and discovers how wet you’ve become and he groans. 
“God baby you need me don’t you?” He asks, his voice low and gruff. All you can do is whimper and rock your hips into his fingers. 
“Yes, I want you so bad. Just like that night,” you whimper. 
“You wanted to ride me, didn’t you?” He asks mischievously. You suck in a sharp breath, not expecting him to ask something like that. But of course, he was right. That’s exactly what you wanted that night. You didn’t want him to stop you from taking off his pants and let you fuck him til the sun came up. You had zero sexual experience then but you were so confident that you could give both of you the pleasure you needed. The alcohol really made you more confident than you should have been.
“Yes, I did. I wanted you to make me feel good but you stopped me,” you say with a hint of whininess in your voice. 
He chuckles amused at your behavior, “I know baby. I’m here,” he says as his fingers tease your entrance. “Come and ride me now,” he groans. 
You grunt frustrated, you can’t take any more of this and need him. You pull at his shirt and unbutton it. You kiss and nip at his neck, leaving lipstick marks up and down it, creating a pleased grumble to form in his chest. The aching need he has created in you won’t go away without his help.
Your core continues to weep with every motion of his long fingers. You groan helplessly as your hand moves lower and gently rubs his hard cock. He groans silently and pulls you in for a kiss. 
“Yes baby, just like that. Please I want you,” he says as he takes his hand out of your panties and finds the zipper to your dress. He slowly unzips it and you get off the bed to take it off of you. His gaze didn’t look away from you. Your heart hammered away as you were about to let your dress fall to the floor. 
You let the straps fall off your shoulders and let it pool at your feet. You quickly glance over at him and watch as he looks intoxicated just looking at you. You cover your breasts with your hand and forearm. Your cheeks burn as he continues to stare and he swings his legs off the bed. He pulls you closer to him and places a soft kiss on your lips, pulling your arm away from your body. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he whimpers. You don’t respond to him, you can’t handle him saying those kinds of things to you. He pulls down your panties and caresses your naked body in front of him. You try to get him to take his pants off and get him to look at something else. He stands up to unbutton them and shimmies them off. He doesn’t wear anything underneath and his cock springs free. 
He looked damn good and you couldn’t help but stare at the man. 
He pulls your hand to get back on the bed with him and spreads his legs apart slightly.
“Come here baby,” he coos.
You obey and crawl on the bed with him, straddling his hips. He takes your hand and has you wrap it around his cock. You gently pump it and hear him groan as you do this. The throbbing in your core increased as you hovered over his length and rubbed it through your folds. It didn’t take long to coat him with your wetness and the feeling of him made you even more weak. 
You both lock eyes and see how badly you want each other. He was desperate for you, everything about him yearned for you and you couldn’t deny him anything. He puts his hands on your hips and helps you slowly sink down on his length. You groan as you take the first few inches of him, holding onto his shoulders for support. This felt better than you could’ve imagined, how he filled you so perfectly and made your walls hug him with each thrust. You moan softly as you take him slowly. He has the same pleased look on his face as he looks at your breasts and down to where you both are connected. 
“Oh God,” you cry. He groans in agreement, squeezing your hips tighter.
His hands slither up the sides of your torso to the front of you and squeeze your breasts in his hands. You groan with how this all feels and take a bit more of him. He pushes your body forward and his lips wrap around your nipple. He squeezes your breasts harder and sucks at them more. You can hardly function with him doing this to you. His hips buck up slightly and fills you more, making you groan loudly.
The more his hands moved all over you, discovering new spots you liked to be touched, you grew nervous again like last night and doubts invaded your mind. You were afraid this wasn’t going to be good for him. You weren’t good enough to be with Elvis like this. This wasn’t going to last. You had to be frank with yourself too, you weren’t experienced in this sort of thing. You had only been with one person he was not the adventurous type. You had to face that you were in a sexless marriage. He never asked you for such things from you which made you feel uneasy about a whole other matter you’d have to find out about. Getting on top rarely happened and you hated the way John would look up unamused at you. It made you feel small and unwanted.
 You whimper and pull at Elvis’ hair.
“Honey I can’t do this,” you sigh, lifting yourself off of his length. Elvis’ face is shrouded with concern.
“What’s wrong baby? Does it not feel good?” He asks gently. 
“No, no it does, I just- I’m afraid you’re not going to enjoy it,” you say weakly looking away so he doesn’t see your apprehensive expression. 
He gently turns your head towards him again, caressing your face in his hand. 
“That’s not true baby, I’m loving every second of it. I want you to keep going,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your lips. 
“Really?”
“Yes baby, you feel so good, I can’t get enough,” he almost pleads. 
You can’t believe what he’s saying and see how desperately he wants you. 
He teases you by rubbing his cock through your folds again, making you throb more. You sigh, slowly moving back and forth on his length. Your core ached and needed more of him too. 
“Come on baby, take it nice and slow,” he coos. 
You nod your head at him and your breathing staggers. You hover over his length again and he helps you line up his cock to your entrance. You slowly sink down on him and feel instant satisfaction. He felt like heaven as your walls hugged him tightly and made your head fall back. 
You moved slowly, just like he told you to, and made you both moan obscenities with each thrust. 
“That’s it, baby, just like that,” he coos, rubbing your nipples lightly with his thumbs. His voice alone was going to make you finish quickly if he kept this up. You didn’t know how much you liked hearing how much he loved this. It was addicting. You loved getting praise from him you were soon discovering. 
You kept moving in slow, controlled motions, loving everything about this. 
“Take a little more baby,” he says gently. You nod your head and do just that, filling you more. 
“Oh god,” you whimper. You weren’t used to him still. He was overwhelming with the way he’d fill you in the most complete ways. He lets out a pleased groan, squeezing your hips to still you. 
“Fuck you feel good baby,” he groans as he lets his head fall back to the pillows behind him. You look away from him and your eyes squeeze closed, trembling on top of this perfect man as you slow fuck him. You move a bit more, crying out his name as your pleasure builds. You feel his hand gently move your face toward him and your eyes pop back open. 
“Look at me, Honey. I wanna see your pretty face when you fuck me,” he tells you as he thrusts his hips into you more, pushing his cock deeper. He felt so damn good in this position. His cock pushes on a sensitive spot that could have you screaming his name if you moved faster. 
“Okay baby,” you say weakly, staring into his luring eyes.
You can barely catch your breath as he helps you move a bit faster on him. You scratch at his chest and feel yourself become weaker by the second. You were going to finish soon and he was doing everything in his power to get you there. You cry out for him, begging for him to give you more.
“Takin’ me so well baby, fuck,” he grumbles, sending a pleasurable shock through your body. You loved hearing how much he liked it. You didn’t want him to stop.
“Yeah?” You whimper.
“Yes baby, doing so good. You make me want to cum in that pretty little pussy,” he groans, pushing his hips up and burying his cock all the way inside of you. You moan loudly and you let your eyes squeeze shut. Everything about taking him slow goes out the window and you move faster on him. You put your hands on his chest and fuck him harder.
His hands are firmly squeezing your hips and helping you move on him. He stills you when you’re stuffed to the hilt and trembling with need. He rocks your hips back and forth on him and you feel yourself crumble.
“Elvis oh-,” you whine. You feel your walls flutter around him and you grasp onto his forearms tightly.  
“You’re gonna cum for me, baby. Let me feel how much you love this,” he groans as he pulls you in for a kiss. 
You moan into his mouth as you feel him pound his hips into you. His pace was unrelenting and made your eyes roll back in your head. You tried to muffle your moans but it was no use, every movement had you dying. It only takes a few more slow, deep thrusts and you feel your coil snap. Your walls flutter and squeeze around his cock, making you both groan in pleasure. You claw at his arms and slowly swivel your hips on him as your orgasm rips through you. You let your head fall back, overwhelmed with what he’s giving you.
“Fuck baby that’s right, cum for me,” he coos. You cover your mouth with your hand to muffle the loud moan he just made you produce. God his voice somehow makes you feel more turned on. You feel your core squeeze around him again and he moans your name in response to it. You keep riding him, wanting to make you both feel as good as possible. You see stars behind your closed eyes and feel like you’re on another planet because of him.
Your eyes flutter open and love to see this gorgeous man writhe underneath you. He lets his head fall back and groans with each movement of your hips. Jesus, he looked good like this. You liked it when he looked completely fucked, when his breathing was ragged, and how his eyes drooped heavy with lust. Your body was getting tired, not able to move much more but he was helping you with that. 
You watch as his eyebrows furrow together and his mouth falls open slightly. 
“Oh baby, I’m gonna cum,” he grunts. Your breathing falters and you grind at the base of his cock, stuffing you to the hilt. 
“Cum baby,” you groan, barely able to move anymore. 
He squeezes at your thighs and bucks his hips into you, his length pulsating inside you. You cry out for him and look down at him in disbelief. He somehow felt better like this. You rock your hips back and forth slowly on him and feel his warm seed coat your walls. He curses under his breath and looks at you in shock. 
“God baby you feel so good,” he grumbles. 
“Yes, so do you,” you say lazily. He grunts louder as he feels you grind on him, giving him as much as you can give before your body was too tired to move anymore.
You finally collapse on his chest and cling to him. He tries to soothe you with gentle touches along your back and your head. Both of you struggled for breath and needed to be in each other’s arms. 
You start to lift yourself off of him but he pushes your hips back down on him.
“No baby, keep me inside of you,” he whimpers.
You lay your head on his chest and hear his fluttering heart. He was just as excited as you were. 
You both lay there for a while, calming each other down after all of that. You were ultimately in shock. You never experienced something like this. It was pleasurable, euphoric, and thrilling all at the same time. You never expected him to care so much about you. The way he practically begged for you. The way he encouraged you to keep taking more of him. It was so attractive. You couldn’t get enough of his voice. It was one thing singing, it was beautiful and melodious. But when he was directly talking to you, it was low and gravely, making you a puddle with his cock stuffed inside of you.
You whisper in his ear, “you felt so good,” you sigh. 
He hums softly, “good baby, so did you. I really can’t get enough,” he grumbles. 
“Me either,” you sigh, not believing the words that have come out of your mouth. 
He runs his hands through your hair, “stay a little longer please, don’t run off like last night,” he whimpers in your ear. You sigh, this wasn’t easy to try to say no to him.
You sit up to look at him, “you know I can’t stay long. I have work later and I was only supposed to stop by here to get my pie plate,” you tell him.
“That was the lie you constructed? That you desperately needed to come back here to get your pie plate?” He laughs.
You roll your eyes and sigh annoyed.
“No questions were asked, it was a believable story,” you joked.
“Well I didn’t have a bite of your pie, the guys scarfed it down before I could get a crumb,” he grumbles.
“Oh no you’re gonna starve,” you tease.
“Oh I’m not complaining, I got a taste of something else last night that was quite…delicious,” he says slyly. 
God save me.
“If you want me to stay longer, you’ll have to come up with a good reason this time. I already made up my story to get here, now it’s your turn,” you say smartly. He gives you a cheeky smile and nods his head.
“Okay fine, that’s fair,” he chuckles and pauses to think of a convoluted story to keep you here. He gives you a cheeky smile when he’s got it.
“I want you to bake me something, that’ll keep you here a few more hours. If you don’t, I might just pout about it,” he says childishly and winks at you. Goddamn it he’s good. You laugh softly and sigh, “fine, you win this time.”
He has you wrapped around his finger and he knows it. You didn’t want to let go though.
Tagging:
@loving-elvis @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis
@ccab @presleyenterprise @theresalwaysep
@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates
@ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog
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@18|kpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873
@austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis
@everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers
@idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy-
@elvisalltheway101@austinsmutler@kingdomforapony.
@generoustreemystic @claire-elvisgirl
@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121
@jaqueline19997
@returntopresley. @iloveelvis @rjmartin11 @that-hotdog
@louisejoy86 @misspresley @cattcb @annapresley8
@arrolyn1114 @raginginkedslut @epthedream69
@mh777ep1938
@50sexyshadestashionista
@oldhOllywOod @hooked-on-elvis @livelovedilfs
@sloppiest-of-jos@thisis-theway@gatheraheart
@aphroditebabygirl @faeolwen
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auspicioustidings · 5 months
Text
Ae Fond Kiss - Part 4
A Prayer in the Prospect of Death
Summary: The years pass and you find out how Simon feels about you before a familiar face arrives. Words: 2.8k
Parts: 1 2 3 4 5
“Tell me luv.”
Simon had his fingers tucked under your chin to tilt your head up so you could no longer easily hide. Urgh he was so bloody perceptive. 
“It’s silly.”
“You’re always silly, now tell me.”
You fought the urge to blow a raspberry at him. He was truly the most stubbornly protective human you had ever met and he never just let things go if you said it was fine. He always knew when something was bothering you despite your attempts to hide it. 
“What am I supposed to do when Joey starts nursery?”
You sighed and dropped any attempt to hide how miserable the thought made you. When you and Johnny had gotten married you had decided that you’d be a stay at home mum. You didn’t have a career you were attached to and Johnny made enough to support the household. Honestly you had come to enjoy it in the last year. You decorated your home for every holiday, experimented in the kitchen until you were actually a very good home cook and baker, always felt safe and content with how well you knew your own space and how cosy and clean you kept it. 
It was never how you imagined yourself if you were honest, a homemaker. The idea of you actually sort of enjoying cleaning would have made you feel somewhat ill 5 years ago. But now you were in your own home with a toddler you loved to death and, though you often were reluctant to admit it out loud, a man you loved to death. You had been front and centre for all of Joey’s firsts and you wouldn’t trade that for anything. 
Simon missed his first steps. Johnny had been fine doing video calls while he was on base during off hours, but you didn’t even have the number of Simon’s work phone. It used to frustrate you that it felt like he didn’t even exist the moment he left for work, but he had spoken about his family on your first Christmas together and it made you understand. He would never carry anything on him as the Ghost that could link back to you, even in the relative safety of the base during downtime. 
Now Joey would be out of the house for most of the day. You could have waited, not sent him to nursery and just kept him home until school, but you knew it would be for your sake rather than his. He loved being around other kids and some of the friends he had made from you taking him to every toddler group in the area in an attempt to be a good mother would be starting nursery as well. 
Could you just do nothing all day? Between Johnny’s insurance and death in service benefits and Simon insisting on funnelling money in, you could certainly afford it now, but it felt so wrong when Johnny was dead and Simon was doing the exact job that had killed him.
“What do you mean? You do the same as you do right now if you’re still happy doing it but without him.”
“Lounge around and do nothing while you are out risking your life you mean.”
Simon considered, always careful to think the situation through rather than reply impulsively. He was annoyed with himself for not seeing sooner that you were undervaluing yourself, only considering taking care of Joey which was a full time job in itself as contributing. While it had been a source of bitter guilt in the beginning, he had started to forget how much younger you were than him. He really should have seen it, no woman in her early 20s saw her full worth. 
“Princess, you decorated this whole house while I was deployed and you’re the one that fixes things or organises for them to be fixed when they break. You cook almost all our meals from scratch and then make extra to donate to the community kitchen. The garden is immaculate because you follow the planting plan you made yourself and are out there doing maintenance every day. You do not now nor have you ever lounged about doing nothing, even if I would like it if you did.”
He already felt bad enough about it. When he was home he threw himself in, tried to take as much off of you as possible even when he was nowhere near as fast or good at things. If anything he was contributing nowhere near enough money to cover all the full time jobs you were gracefully juggling (only because it had already been a fight to accept any money at all, he gave you what you accepted and then put almost the rest of his pay into an account for Joey).
“Shut up!” you whined, battering fists against his chest as your face flamed. 
You had lived together now for just around 3 years. You had been intimately involved for 2. It still absolutely floored you when he was nice to you and made butterflies erupt in your stomach. It was so ridiculous to feel like some wide eyed teen with a crush when it came to this idiot. Unfortunately his favourite hobby was fucking with you when you were taken off guard like this.
“Aww baby girl, you know how much I appreciate everything you do for me and Joe don’t you? We’d fall apart without you beautiful” he said in a smooth rumble, peppering kisses across your cheeks and down your neck. 
It wasn’t fair that he could just tease you with a version of him that adored you. A version that you enjoyed even if you didn’t really think it was real. Sure there had been a maybe ‘I love you’ years ago after all that sexual tension broke and he seemed to be happy enough, but you could only imagine that if he ever knew how you felt about him he would run. The last 3 years you had fought at every turn to protect your heart, but you had stopped denying at least to yourself that it was pathetically his now.  
“Don’t do that.”
“You don’t want praise and kisses?”
He raised an eyebrow and tried to hide a small smile. You loved praised and kisses, he knew that because in the bedroom he could use that to turn you into a pile of obedient princess who did whatever he said if it would earn you his adulation. But it was just sex wasn’t it? 
“I don’t want you to pretend.”
He was confused by that and you wanted to sink into the floor to avoid this conversation. You had been avoiding it for a while now. 
“I… fuck. Simon, I don’t- it’s not just sex to me” you choked out, not sure how to put it into words without straight out admitting that you were hopelessly in love with him and wanted him in you and J’s lives permanently. 
“Christ, you pretty little idiot” he growled, grabbing your face roughly in his hands. “I love you. I am in love with you. I’m not Johnny, I don’t do big romantic gestures. I’m not the kind of man to tell you all the time how I feel. I’m the kind of man who is a selfish bastard because I don’t give a fuck if you deserve someone who does. You are mine. You have been for years. Do you understand me?”
You could only blink wide-eyed as your brain tried to catch up with the whole world restarting itself after the shock.  
“Do you understand me?” he snapped. 
“Yes sir.”
“Good girl… wanna get married?”
You stuttered out an outraged shout, feeling the tears that had been building drying up at the audacity of this man. 
“Johnny took me to the cabin. He made me a replica of the first dinner we had together and set the table outside during the sunset. He organised for fireworks!”
“Told you I don’t do romantic gestures.”
“Fine!”
“Fine?”
“Fine, let’s get married Casper. You’re the fucking worst.”
“Don’t I know it princess. I’m not wearing a tie.”
“Then I’m not wearing a dress.”
“Yes you bloody well are!”
“Wanna bet?!”
-
He did not wear a tie, but Joey did. Your dress was beautiful. Gaz officiated your wedding for the second time. Price said there was an emergency so he couldn’t make it - you weren’t really sure you believed him.
-
As you cleared up after the whirlwind that was breakfast in a house with a 9 year old late for school, you sighed and stuck on a heat patch. You were starting to wonder if being off birth control was maybe a little pointless because in the past 18 months it had only reminded you how much you hated periods after years of them being gone as a useful side effect.
It had been something you were speaking about since you got married. You had always wanted more kids. Simon had never even expected he’d have one. You were terrified of a repeat of your first pregnancy, he was terrified that his genes were poisonous. You had enough money with his hefty pay and your small business (you had started it up soon after Joey had started nursery and you got a lot of orders for events, birthdays and weddings for sets of biscuits. You imagined wherever Johnny was he was howling with laughter that you had turned into a home baker after all the kitchen disasters he had seen). 
In the end it had been Joseph who made the decision. One shrugged mention of how he thought it’d be nice to have a little sibling and that was that. There was not one thing in the whole wide world you and Simon would not give him if it was in your power. Although you were starting to think it wasn’t in your power at all. 
It wasn’t like you didn’t have an active sex life and in honesty it had only gotten more active from the breeding kink Simon had uncovered as soon as it was a possibility. But it just hadn’t happened. 
You wondered if it was better that it hadn’t, at least until Joey was 10. That was when you had agreed you would tell him everything. On advice of a psychologist you had told him that Simon wasn’t his biological father very early on, as early as he could understand the concept, although stressed he was still his dad. The only thing you mentioned about his biological father was that he had died even though that was very much against the psychologists advice, she had said to tell him everything about Johnny.
But in 4 months he would turn 10 and he knew that you would answer his questions then. It was shitty of the two of you really, to hide Johnny until now. Joey’s grandmother still saw him, but she never talked about her son or who he was. It was cowardice. Simon had been speaking with a therapist for years about how to let go of the idea that Johnny died because he couldn’t save him. You felt ill at the idea of your son knowing you had married his dead father’s best friend. Both of you were so scared of Johnny’s ghost that you kept him from his son for nearly a decade. 
Well sort of. Joey knew who Johnny was, just not that he was his father. There were photos of him in the house. Whenever Gaz, Price and their partner (that had been a whole drama, but you were happy the three of them finally worked it out) were around, sometimes they would reminisce about him. Well Gaz and Simon did, Price would just look pained and excuse himself to get a drink.
You could only hope that Joey wouldn’t hate you, but then he was such a great kid. A little wild, but incredibly kind and empathetic beyond his years. He had Johnny’s eyes. You thought that he’d understand when you explained it all. Maybe he’d yell at you for thinking he would blame you for falling in love with his dad, but he’d understand. 
You focused on cleaning up and getting the kitchen back clean and cosy how you liked it, deciding not to borrow worries from the future.
Price had told him to settle his arse down in the base and let him travel down and talk to him before he went anywhere. Johnny ignored him. He had just saved the fucking world, there was not one thing that was going to keep him from his wife and child one second longer.
He had debriefed already, been medically cleared to leave. He knew the paperwork was going to be horrendous given that he was legally dead, but frankly he’d leave it for the intelligence agencies to deal with given how much of a big bloody favour he had just done them. He got your address off of them given that Price hadn’t given it to him, just telling him to wait until he got there. Fuck that.
It didn’t take too long to get himself there. It was oddly comforting hearing all the English accents after a decade of hearing almost entirely Russian even if he’d be moving your pretty arse back North of the border as soon as he could. Not a chance was his family living in Carlisle. He wondered why you would move that far from the Highlands where his family was. You had always been no contact with your own family, maybe you had reconciled with them and moved to be closer? 
He would find out. Whatever it was he’d support you. God he loved you, he had missed you so fucking much. He had imagined the reunion for years, thought of your smile and your laugh when he needed to remind himself what he was fighting for, thought of your soft skin and tight pussy when he needed to relieve some tension with his right hand. Whenever he sent up a prayer in the prospect of death, it was for you that he prayed he would survive.
He thought of how he’d hold you for days when he got back. He knew you would have raised a wonderful son and he could not wait to meet the person he had become. He’d hold him as well, spend days cuddled up and watching movies with his family. 
And then he’d take you to the cabin and lose himself in your body. Fuck it was strange to think he’d have to consider it wasn’t just you two anymore. He didn’t want to lose any time with his son, but he needed alone time with you as well. He’d work it out. 
The house was nice, sort of quaint with the pretty flowers both real and painted on the door. It hurt knowing if he hadn’t been away you’d have something bigger. You would have had to for a growing family. 
He wished he had stopped and gotten a change of clothes and a haircut. He was in military issued sweats and a hoodie and his hair had grown out to curl around his ears. He really should have shaved as well, a task he hadn’t had time for in the chaos of the last few months. But fuck it, he was here and he couldn’t wait. 
It was almost like an out of body experience knocking on the door, knowing he was seconds away from you. He should have realised that there was another person around who could answer the door, but he hadn’t been thinking. The Joseph he knew was a tiny baby, not a bright eyed kid with a toothy grin in a football strip (a bloody Man U strip at that, Johnny just knew his uncle Simon would have had a hand in that and it made him grin knowing his best friend was still in his son’s life).
“Ye got big!” he belted, excited beyond proper introductions at seeing his son. 
The kid furrowed his brows for a moment before he brightened with recognition. Johnny assumed now was about the time for crying and yelling and hugging. He was unprepared for the alternative. 
“I know you! You’re dad’s Sergeant! I thought you died.”
His heart lurched, putting the dots together well before his brain could. 
“Joe hurry it up! We’ll miss kick-off!”
Johnny knew that voice. It was not yours. 
“I’m ready!”
“You better be! Right, who’s at the door then?”
The voice got closer and even though he wanted to run Johnny was rooted to the spot. It felt like the next 10 seconds as the footsteps and voice came closer was hours. The door swung wider open as a hand pulled on it from behind and then he was looking into the eyes of Simon Riley. The silence was deafening until Johnny broke it.
“What the fuck did you do Si!”
128 notes · View notes
yesimwriting · 8 months
Note
yes i want more felix and oliver !!
a/n i love when people enable me :)
this could be read as taking place at some point after match burns (though this isn't part 2!) but can also easily be read on its own
---
The world has been dulled by a drowsiness so thick and full it's disorientating. You're so tired, so trapped in the state between falling and asleep that it's hard to think. Despite this, he somehow manages to be a bright spot, so warm and safe any and all thoughts of dangers lurking in the shadows are slowly vanishing.
You don't remember Felix getting here. You're not sure when he entered your room through your shared bathroom or when he laid down next to you or when he started tracing soothing patterns against your shoulder. All you know is that there was a nightmare that latched onto the ghosts estates this grandiose and ancient seem to attract and then there was Felix.
By morning, when you'll no longer need Felix to serve the purpose of daylight, you'll be embarrassed. Even now, you're still half-aware of the fact that there's a lot about this that you should find mortifying. Felix knowing to come in and wake you means you must have been showing signs of distress while asleep. Having a nightmare during your first night at Saltburn is a little pathetic, but it's something you can live with. However, needing Felix to stay with you until you fall asleep is a juvenile kind of pathetic that you don't think you could get through.
"Thanks for..." Your voice feels small and far away, but you don't think you can manage anything more concrete. "Waking me up."
Felix's fingertips continue the pattern they've been outlining against your skin without hesitation. "It's nothing," he whispers, "You were tossing and turning so much." Yeah, you'll definitely be embarrassed tomorrow. "Feel better now?"
You manage a nod. "Yeah..." Your eyes fall shut, you have to force yourself to open them again. "Better." Maybe if you sat up or--or moved away, you'd be able to focus. You shift, but you're too tired and, honestly, comfortable for it to be productive. "So, if you...if you want to go back...that'd be okay."
The lack of desire to get the words out paired with the need to remain polite, to make sure that he doesn't think you don't appreciate the gesture makes the words feel awkward. Felix's hand moves down to your arm. He angles his head forward, so close you can feel his breaths against your cheek. "Do you want me to?"
His words are soft, voice low and slightly gravelly. You're reminded of Felix in a world that feels so far from the one you're currently in, seeing him at parties, around the girls he'd pick from time to time.
There would always be a flurry of them around him, but you could always tell which one he was actually entertaining because of the way he'd become attentive. His ability to make someone seem like the only person in the world has always been fascinating. It's a talent that's more than romantic, too. It's part of the reason everyone always wants to be around him.
"No." The confession is faint as it accidentally tumbles past your lips.
The honesty of it knots something in your stomach. It's more than fear or the inability to fall asleep. You want Felix to stay. That's it. There's no reason or justification for it, you just...you want Felix.
But there are social boundaries, and things that you can't do with friends. Intentionally sleeping in the same bed, especially as close together and touchy as the two of you are being, is definitely one of those things.
There has to be a way to explain it without tiptoeing into territory that you're incapable of handling. Especially when it comes to Felix, who you spent an entire semester trying not to fall in love with. You survived by the skin of your teeth just to be invited to spend the summer with his family. You feel like an idiot for thinking you'd be able to get through this.
"Okay." He says it like it's that easy, like that's the only thing worth considering. "Then I'll stay." You're not sure if he can sense your uncertainty, but he's quick to tack on a justification, "Need you well rested." The vague feel of embarrassment attempts to nip at you again. "I know it can be hard to get used to it here."
It's a phrase that would seem like a blanket statement of instinctual politeness from anyone else, but from Felix it feels real, his understanding almost tangible. It's enough to make you fully ease.
"It's still nice, though." An understatement you would've never let slip past you if your eyelids weren't growing heavier by the second. Nice is such a bland term, it almost feels like an insult, especially when considering the fact that you're not just talking about his home. "I'm glad you invited me."
His touch has now moved to concentrate on your forearm. "I'm glad you came." A beat of silence stretches between you, your eyes finally falling shut. Felix's fingertips brush against the inside of your wrist. If you were any more awake, the carefulness of the touch would have gotten to you. "It is still nice."
----
The lack of light bleeding into the hall from beneath the door that leads to Felix's room makes the air entering Oliver's lungs feel stale.
It's late enough that the darkness could mean nothing. Felix's extra curriculars of choice have him in the habit of keeping strange hours. It's more common than not for him to up until the wee hours of the nights, even if there's nothing for him to do. However, from time to time the long nights will catch up to him and he'll fall asleep early.
Oliver can almost convince himself that that's all this is, can practically picture Felix fast asleep above the covers and only half undressed. He would be able to believe it if it wasn't for the soft glow illuminating the space beneath the door that leads to your room.
A familiar tightness forces his ribs to contract. Oliver swallows, stepping towards the door to Felix's room. He knows you to be a late night reader from time to time...
His hand is now grasping the door handle. There's nothing inherently strange about what Oliver's doing. Felix did say to come find him if Oliver had trouble sleeping. He pulls the door open slowly, taking his time to make sure that the creek of the old hinge's stays as quiet as possible.
Oliver peers into the room. The darkness isn't easy to see in, but eventually he makes out slightly tousled sheets on an empty bed and the door to the bathroom cracked open.
Of course it'd take so little time for you to completely pull Felix into your orbit. An entire semester of Felix doting on you and you managed to commit to keeping him at arm's length. One night in his family's home and you're suddenly no longer cautious. Maybe you're not as noble as you try to seem.
He's approaching the door to the bathroom, unsure if seeing it would be as unbearable as imagining it. Felix's hands on you, your body pressed against his.
"Hello?" Felix's voice carries over from the other side of the bathroom, slightly confused but casual. "Oliver?"
Oliver swallows, blood running cold despite the fact that all that he's been caught doing is justifiable. He forces himself to walk forward, to open the door to the bathroom fully. "Yeah."
Oliver crosses over, opening the door to your bedroom with an uncomfortable lump in his throat.
What he sees isn't--Felix is sitting up, the bedside lamp closest to him turned on, an open book held in one hand and your sleeping form holding onto the other. It's not the coming together, the snapping of tension and desire he had been imaging. In many ways, its something worse.
"Couldn't sleep?"
Swallowing down the influx of emotion that Oliver isn't capable of dealing with, he nods blankly. "Yeah. Still adjusting."
"It's normal," Felix replies easily, "She couldn't sleep either."
Felix's solution for you not being able to sleep was to crawl into bed with you. It shouldn't matter, he's seen the two of you get away with displays of affection more nauseating than this on campus. Lingering kisses against each other's cheeks and foreheads and jaws during a night out, holding onto each other at the few parties you agree to attend, Felix tucking you into bed after you drink. But this is--this is a touchiness not hidden under the guise of alcohol.
Oliver nods again. "Oh."
"Fell asleep quickly, though." Felix's thumb brushes up your arm. "Jet lag paired with Farleigh sneaking her one too many glasses of wine." Another empty tilt of Oliver's chin. "Y'can come here, if you want."
The offer comes out so casually, Oliver starts to wonder if he missed something. "What?"
Felix sighs, a hint of some lighthearted humor in the sound. "It doesn't need to be a thing, it's just sleep."
It can't possibly be that casual to him, can it? Especially with the level of care in the way Felix is touching you. And even if it is just a matter of sleep, this is still your room. "What about--"
"She won't mind," Felix dismisses easily. "She likes you." It's one thing to be friendly with someone, another for them to crawl into your bed after you've fallen asleep. "She'll get it."
Oliver's still not sure, his confusion affecting his ability to figure out which reaction will be what Felix wants most. He deliberates for a moment before stepping forward, approaching the other side of the bed.
Now that the overwhelmingness of the domesticity is starting to wear off, you do seem different in your sleep. More vulnerable. It isn't an unappealing way to see you.
He pulls the sheets back carefully, you stir regardless. You shift away from Felix's touch, moving onto your side. Of course you'd wake up just in time to take this from him, too.
You wipe at your eyes tiredly before squinting them open. It takes a moment for you to place yourself, but once you do, the slight confusion behind your eyes is nearly drowned out by an oddly warm confusion. "Oliver."
You bend an arm in an attempt to prop your head up. It takes you a second, but you eventually manage. Farleigh must have encouraged to have a little more than just a few extra glasses of wine at dinner.
"Y'okay?" Your tone is more kind than confused as you stare up at him with sleep still in your eyes.
The answer should be easy. Oliver should be working at accepting Felix's suggestion. The words are there, balancing on the tip of his tongue, but instead of getting them out, he's too focused on you.
It's a curious attention. Half asleep, hair tousled, makeup washed off, and the oversized shirt you're sleeping in sliding down your shoulder. All of these things should make you seem smaller, less eye drawing. Instead, being dressed down just adds a softness to your aesthetic appeal.
Maybe what makes you so appealing to Felix isn't as hard to grasp as Oliver originally thought. The thought twists in him strangely, jabbing at a part of him and encouraging another.
"Ollie couldn't sleep either." Felix gently squeezes your forearm. "I was asking him if he wanted to stay in here tonight, but he didn't want to overstep."
You blink, stiffening slightly for the first time since you woke up. The implications of Felix's statement take a second to fully sink in, but once it does, Oliver can see the hesitation coloring your features. "Oh."
Felix traces a pattern up your arm. You turn your head to look at Oliver again. "You've seen me before a 9:00 AM lecture after a night out and at every stage of finals week grief, I'm not sure there are any boundaries left."
You sit up, pushing yourself close to the center of the bed in a wordless invitation. Oliver swallows before letting himself sit down at the edge of the bed. He takes his time moving beneath the sheets. Your scent clings to the fabric.
The bed's not small, but with the three of you, it is a bit of a squeeze. It's reminiscent of being a little kid crawling into bed with a parent after a bad dream.
"You are pretty harsh during exams." Felix's voice is light, bordering on teasing.
Your mouth falls open in a mock gasp. You twist your arm, trying to push Felix off. He grins, easily resisting your halfhearted attempts to get him off of you. "I am not that bad." You're still pretending to want Felix to let go when you look back at Oliver. "Am I?"
To be honest, during finals you're constantly preoccupied. Even when you're meant to be spending time with friends, it's clear that your mind's stuck on assignments and exams. You're also prone to irritability. The only actual argument Oliver's ever had with you was mainly caused by the stress of an essay you were trying to finish. You apologized almost immediately after, but it's still the most angry he's ever seen you be.
The truth doesn't feel relevant. "You're perfectly lovely all times a'year."
You grin, Felix lets out a sound that's equal parts laugh as it is groan. "Don't tell her that. It'll go to her head."
You gently push at his shoulder, Felix exaggerates a pout.
Like all the praise you receive on a daily basis hasn't already gotten to you. You may not have a family name that carries weight, but you do have the way that people see you, a regular dorm hall darling with the grades and social circle to match.
You don't bask in the praise or let it change your outward appearance, but it has to inflate your ego. You've never implied that you come from a family that struggles financially, but you're not like Felix either. Holding your own with his kind must give you an inflated sense of self.
But this is another truth that serves no purpose. Not with Felix's teasing yet content smile and the attentive way you're watching him.
Oliver extends an arm, placing a hand on your knee. You sit up a little more, uncertainty briefly making it easier for you to be awake. It's not that you're never touchy with Oliver, it's that he's rarely the one to start it. "Oh, she's too much of a sweetheart."
It's honest enough. You are too nice to let anything openly go to your head. The words get you to finally relax at the contact. You must have decided that Oliver's just in a friendly mood. "Thank you." You then turn your head to look at Oliver, "See? Some people think I'm nice."
Felix rolls his eyes, letting his hand fall off your arm for the first time since Oliver's arrival. It's a small shift, but some subconscious part of you seems to notice, eyes instinctually searching for his hand.
"Since when are you on her side?" The comment, delivered with a tone that isn't quite teasing enough to cover the tinge of annoyance that still manages to bleed into the words, only confirms Oliver's theory.
Felix is used to being at the center. Everyone's eyes are always on him, everyone's affections are constantly available. He isn't one to be jealous in a committed way, Oliver's heard about enough of Felix's open flings to know he isn't like that. But he's territorial about those he feels attached to. If Felix Catton deems you worthy of his care, you make sure to make it clear to anyone else that that's all that matters.
The brief flash of defensiveness makes Oliver feel like he's standing a little straighter, a little stronger. "There are no sides."
"Yeah." You shift, leg moving off of Felix's as you try to sit up a little more. Felix's brow furrows.
It hits Oliver, then, that even though you want Felix's approval, you might not need it the way everyone else does. That must be part of the reason Felix is so drawn to you. Or maybe you're just that sure in yourself, in your place in his life that you're willing to push from time to time if the setting feels light enough.
But you're not happy with tension between the two of you, not even the kind that's barely implied. Oliver doesn't think he's ever seen the two of you argue, or look anything outside of completely content in each other's presence.
"We're just joking," you mumble, angling your neck awkwardly to look at Felix.
"Yeah, so am I."
Your gaze shifts over to Oliver, something knowing behind your eyes that he can't quite return. "Mhm."
Felix lets out an exaggerated breath before relaxing his spine and laying down. "Fuck off," he mumbles, the passive aggressiveness forced into the syllables not enough to hide his genuine fondness.
You look over at Oliver, "Can you believe him?"
A combination of being emboldened by the safety of your approval and the urge to feel as indispensable as you are makes Oliver want to joke back. "He seems moody, must be tired."
You laugh again, this time your body leaning towards Oliver until your head lands on his shoulder.
"Fuck off," Felix says again, "Both of you." His annoyance is still undercut by something warm.
Your head is still on Oliver's shoulder, the weight of it impossible to ignore but not exactly uncomfortable. You've stilled significantly, a fact that makes Oliver wonder if you've fallen asleep like that.
Then, you break the silence, "We're kidding."
"I've heard that before," Felix counters flatly. He stretches an arm, reaching for your fingers. "Liked you better asleep."
Felix squeezes your hand, keeping you awake enough to respond. "I'm sure the quiet was nice."
He sits up slightly, "You snore a little."
You're so offended, you lift your head off of Oliver's shoulder. "I. Do. Not."
Oliver waits a beat before adding, "Well."
You turn to look at Oliver, your offense clear. "How would you know?"
"Remember after that one party? You were so out of it, you needed help getting into your room and passed out before I could go." The memory is relatively recent, an end of semester party that you used to celebrate the end of your finals induced hibernation.
You pout. "You two are mean."
Felix runs his thumb across your knuckles. "Extremely." You part your lips like you have something else to say, but you're cut off by a yawn. "We should go to bed."
You tilt your chin up slightly, a potential protest that fizzles out almost immediately. "Yeah." You're tired, there's not even the good humored kind of fight left. "It's late."
You sink into the mattress, eyes shutting immediately. Oliver watches for a second, still unsure in a way he isn't used to. There's something about this kind of softness that isn't easy to place himself in.
Felix leans over, setting his book down on the nightstand. "Are you both settled?"
You nod, eyes still closed. Oliver's a little slower to react, "Yeah."
Felix switches off the bedside lamp. Darkness enshrouds the room. The bed groans slightly as Felix adjusts himself. Oliver follows, moving so that he can lay down fully.
He's closer to you than he's ever been. Your warmth radiates beneath the sheets in a way that's strangely soothing. Oliver isn't sure how he felt so awake just minutes ago. His eyelids are growing heavy. The last thing Oliver registers before falling asleep is Felix's hand on his shoulder, a too brief yet somehow still lingering squeeze that serves as a silent good night.
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callmewrinkles3 · 2 years
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All Too Well - DR3 x Fem!OC
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Summary: Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye to your family without telling them it’s a final goodbye is even harder. But Em has come to terms that Dan doesn’t love her the same way she loves him, and leaving on her own terms will hurt less than being told he’s ending things. March 2022.
Word Count: 12.3k
Warnings: fighting, all the angst this bad boy can carry, lil bit of a dickhead!Dan, running away from your friends, mentions of death, mentions of motorsport crashes and deaths, moving without telling anyone, lying to family, talk of medical procedures, frank talks about what people want to happen if they can’t decide.
A/N: We’ve kept you waiting, but we hope this was worth the wait! This part of our story is what started us on this madcap adventure together, and it’s a lot of what makes our beloved Em Em. Thank you in advance!
Em stared at the two boarding passes in front of her as she sat in the fancy Heathrow lounge, a caramel latte beside them. Heathrow to Dubai, Dubai to Melbourne. More than twenty hours spent on planes to get to Melbourne, to jump into work and get stuck in at the Australian Grand Prix. And it was the last thing she wanted to do.
She should be excited. She should be so happy because she was about to see the boys after over a week apart, she was about to see Dan. She was finally going to get to see the Ricciardos after almost two years apart. But she was dreading it, the memories from Saudi filling her head as she thought. Em forced her attention to the laptop sitting on her knees, emails up and the one she never thought she’d write sitting in the middle of the screen.
SUB: Resignation Letter
Dear Blake,
Please use this email as my official resignation, effective immediately. I’m sorry that I can’t offer any more notice.
Working with you has been fantastic, and I appreciate everything we’ve gotten to do over the past three years.
Kind regards,
Emma.
Signing it Emma felt wrong. Emma was for Zak Brown and Andreas Sidle. Christian Horner had used it the one time she was introduced to him at Red Bull. She was always Em or Ems now. Except for Dan, she was his Emmy. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Or ever again. If he called her that she thought she might lose the last grip she had on her composure and break.
The email was scheduled and sitting in her outbox to send after the race, and the last thing she did before boarding was reschedule her flight home. Instead of leaving Monday morning with the boys, she was going on Sunday evening. She’d be somewhere over Queensland by the time Blake received the email and the boys would be at least twelve hours behind her. It was enough time to make sure she could be well ahead of them and get away.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be smiling and laughing, and she was supposed to be in Perth right now cuddling her niblings and laughing with Grace and Joe. Learning to cook yet another family recipe and insisting that she and Dan were just friends. She couldn’t even answer the question honestly if they were friends now.
He’d sent her away. The one thing she begged him not to do, the pinkie promise she’d made him give. The only promise she had ever asked him to keep. Not to stay safe while driving, not to do anything else. Not to leave her alone. The near screaming match they’d had in his drivers room that Blake and Michael had to break up. The way he didn’t even look at her but told Blake to “take Ems to the hotel”. How she had tears streaming down her face as she was escorted through the paddock like she wasn’t supposed to be there.
She still didn’t fully believe that she’d dropped her phone in the car. Em shouldn’t even have been in the car alone with Blake, but Dan insisted she went to the hotel room so she went. She was left there alone in Saudi Arabia, where Dan knew she couldn’t leave the hotel. She stared out the window at the smoke from the rockets, completely alone all night until Michael knocked on her door the following morning and she had to pretend everything was fine.
She’d worked from hospitality and as soon as the race finished she changed her flights to go back to London instead of Perth, making up an excuse. And Dan bought that she was going back for her parents.
“Family stuff.” She’d said when he asked.
“Em, you don’t talk to your family much.” She was folding clothes into her case, the one she’d brought that had her Australia clothes already standing fully packed.
“Yeah, but it’s family. My parents have their thirty fifth wedding anniversary in a few weeks, I’m helping plan it.” Only the last part of her words were a lie and she bit her tongue.
“Everyone wants to see you, they all miss you and they keep asking when you’ll be over. The kids miss you.”
“I’ll see them in Melbourne, Dan. You go, enjoy your time at home with them.”
She’d gotten a car to bring her to the airport and Dan hadn’t even asked a question, just a “text me when you land”. There was no hug, no even quick hand squeeze like they usually did in the Middle East. That’s when she knew whatever they were doing. The nearly four years of sleeping together and pretending they weren’t, of the media wondering who she was and why she was always there, was over.
She’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to catch feelings, that it was just sex. That she could do it. That every time she told Dan “y’know, right?” it was purely platonic. That the slow sex was just them wanting to take their time, nothing else. That she hadn’t murmured to Dan to make love to her in Bahrain when they shouldn’t have even been sharing a room after Grosjean’s crash, when he kissed her and held onto her and whispered that he loved her as he entered her.
Because that was sixteen months ago and nothing had changed. It was never going to change between them. Their fight in Saudi had proven it, and now she had to pretend that everything was fine before she said goodbye to the people she loved for the last time.
She couldn’t keep working with Dan when not sleeping with him. She couldn’t watch him fall for another woman, couldn’t get introduced to more people as “Em, my best friend” anymore. She was his Emmy. He was her Danny. And not getting to love him and be loved by him how she wanted to was going to kill her.
The flights were what she expected, Dan had upgraded her tickets to first class like he always did and she wanted to kill him like she always did. She spent the flights and the layovers organising his calendar for the next three months, tracking his flights and cross checking the sponsor events that had been filled in. Everything up to Hungary was booked and ready to go. She checked her watch when she was halfway to Melbourne, realising that he’d be at the Optus event she was usually on his arm for. She was supposed to be there this year, but she told him to take Michelle instead. All the events around the Australian GP that she always went as his plus one, wearing the star necklace he’d gotten her for her birthday, and the matching earrings that were her Christmas present the same year. Her outfit was usually one he’d bought for her against her protests because “let me spoil you” was how he showed that he cared, and she always wore the gold moon ring on her thumb that matched the sun one she’d bought him for his little finger. Most of her wardrobe and all of her everyday jewellery were presents from Dan. Her life was completely entwined with his, and untangling it all was going to hurt.
Her flight got in at god-awful o’clock that Wednesday morning, she’d lost a full day having left London on the Monday evening, but she walked through Melbourne customs with her suitcase glad to just be through. She’d told everyone she’d get an Uber to the hotel and meet them for breakfast, but instead as soon as she appeared in front of the glowing Melbourne sign two small figures ran to her yelling.
“AUNTIE EMMY YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE HERE!” Em dropped her bags and fell to her knees, arms wide open to pull Isaac and Isabella into her and pressing so many kisses to their curly heads.
“I’m here, I’m here. I missed you both so much. So, so much. I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you, I wanted to see you sooner.” Stupid Western Australia and closed borders and not letting people through. Her eyes began shining as she took in the difference in the two kids, Isaac at least a foot taller and losing the childlike way he’d spoken. Isabella had doubled in size, long hair and a child instead of a toddler the last time she’d seen her in person.
“It’s ok, you’re here now! Nana said you’ll sit with us for ev’rything ‘cept the race? Cause we’ve got two years of birthday and Christmas pressies for you!” Isaac looked so proud, grinning as he took her wheeled carry on and pulled it.
“I can’t wait. Who’re you here with?”
“Grandad Joe! He has our sign, Uncle Mike and Uncle Blake told us we had to use all the glitter. We were gonna wait, but I saw you and I wanted a hug. Is that ok?” He looked almost worried of her response, but she ruffled his hair.
“It’s more than ok. All I wanted was hugs from the two of you.”
Isabella clung to her waist, Em lifting her up with one arm and mentally thanking Michael for the strength training that let her carry the girl and pull her suitcase with her. She looked around to see Joe holding a giant piece of bright orange card, Auntie Emmy written on it in blue and silver glitter. It was the shiniest thing she’d ever seen in her life, and it was coming home with her even with the craft herpes that would infest her suitcase. Joe pulled her into a one armed hug on the side his granddaughter wasn’t monopolising, pushing a kiss to the side of her forehead that made her want to cry.
“We missed you, kiddo. Grace wanted to be here but we couldn’t fit her in the car too, and Dan’s doing media today. You cut it tight to get in.”
“It’s my parents wedding anniversary next week, I’ve been helping. I have to fly out after the race on Sunday.” It was Wednesday, and she could see his face fall as he realised how little time they’d have together.
“We’re spending as much time with you as we can until you go. Those boys get you all year round, we get you for this weekend.”
“That sounds perfect.”
When they made it to the hotel Em was greeted with yet more hugs from Grace, Michelle, and Michelle’s husband Adam. There were tears in everyone’s eyes at the reunion, and the long hug from Grace was the best thing ever and broke her heart at the same time. It was so restorative, so good, but she wasn’t going to get many more of them.
“Dan checked you in, here’s your key. He’s got the room on the other side of you, Blake’s on the other wall, we’re most of our corridor. Do you want to get some sleep and we’ll call you at noon?”
The first thing Em noticed about her room was the adjoining door between her room and Dan’s. She closed the lock gently to make sure she was completely alone. After that she napped fitfully, waking up to knocks on the door and yet more hugs. The day was spent going to the zoo, kids hanging out of her as she swung them around and gave piggybacks, feeling exactly like part of the family. Blake told her to take the day off for jet lag, and she wasn’t complaining.
That evening was filled with fun as the kids clung to her while she pulled out the first of so many presents. Chocolate first so she could see their faces eating proper chocolate rather than the Australian stuff that didn’t melt in the heat. The bag of duty free was quickly eaten between everyone, a movie on tv as she filled everyone in on what she had been doing. It wasn’t until after eight that Dan appeared wearing a suit.
“Ems! I thought you were coming with me tonight?” She looked up from where she’d been half dozing with Isabella curled up against her, taking in her best friend wearing a navy blue suit and white shirt.
“Coming to what? I’m taking today for jet lag. What’s tonight?”
“The AusGP reception. You always come!” Confusion was written all over his face and Em swallowed once, looking at him carefully.
“I said I wasn’t doing anything this year. I have to leave pretty much straight after the race, I don’t have time.”
“Emmy, please.” She hated that she couldn’t resist him when he did that, when her name curled around his accent like that.
“I don’t have anything to wear.” This was the closest they’d ever come to an argument in front of his family. Their eyes were going between them as if watching a tennis match.
“I got you something.”
“Dan, you can’t do that.” It was pointless to argue but she had to try make her point. She couldn’t just do everything because he wanted her to.
“I did. C’mon, it’s three hours and some schmoozing and we can come back so you can go to bed. He did his best impression of puppy dog eyes, lifting Isabella from her. “You want to see Auntie Emmy all glam and pretty, right Is?”
“Yeah! She’s always pretty.”
“You’re very right. I left the dress in your room, Ems. Please?”
“Fine.”
She said her goodbyes and went into her room, making sure the adjoining door was locked before going into shower and change. As she walked into the bathroom she thought she heard the door rattle but ignored it, forcing herself to take time to put herself together.
Years travelling around the world had taught her how to make herself look presentable in very little time, forcing her to learn how to do a blow dry with a hotel hairdryer. It took less than an hour to have hair and makeup perfectly done, a wrap around her shoulders and a pair of heels on her feet. The dress Dan had picked was perfect for her. It was lavender, knee length with a corset top, and her jewellery worked perfectly with it. He had taste when it wasn’t about party shirts. Once she was ready she picked up a clutch and knocked on Dan’s door. He opened the door confused, but ready to go.
“I thought you’d use the adjoining door? It’s why I got us these rooms.”
“I’m tired, Dan. Can we just get this over with?”
The launch was like anything else, an event to deal with. There were speeches and then wandering around the room, Dan’s hand hovering at her lower back but not quite touching her. She smiled as she was introduced as “meet Ems, she’s my best friend and my manager’s assistant who keeps my life on track”, even while her heart was breaking. But she kept her cool, finally managing to break away from Dan for a few minutes to chat to Ted and Natalie from Sky while Dan did the rounds.
“I didn’t know if you’d be here. I was talking to Michael yesterday, he said you weren’t in Perth with them,” Ted remarked as Em looked at the almost empty glass of champagne in his hand.
“Is this going to end up as gossip on the notebook if we talk?” Nat nearly snorted with laughter, Ted shaking his head with a chuckle.
“Nope. I’m drinking so I’m officially off work duties. Unless you have any gossip about things? Anything that I can attribute to an unnamed McLaren source?”
“I don’t work for McLaren, thankfully Zak doesn’t sign my paycheque. But no, I’ve got no gossip. There’s some family stuff happening so I have to head home pretty much as soon as the race is over. But I needed to see everyone, it’s been almost two years and I missed them.”
“Fair.” They chatted about the season so far, studiously ignoring the controversy around the last race, until Dan arrived back to make excuses and get them to leave the party.
“Back to the hotel?”
“You read my mind.”
The car ride back was the most awkward one the two of them had ever done and Em didn’t know what to do. Usually if they were in a car alone together they’d be curled into each other or at least holding hands. But she was on her side of the SUV, Dan was on his, and the hand she’d stretched into the middle as a peace offering was ignored. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with that. Didn’t want to know, really. All his actions did was solidify that the painful decision she’d reached was the right one. Just because things could be easy didn’t mean they were right.
When they reached their floor in the hotel Dan stopped outside her hotel room as Em waved the keycard at the lock.
“Night, Dan.”
“But I thought…”
“What?” She was sharper than she should have been, but she was jet lagged and tired and heart sore.
“I thought we’d be sharing a room.”
“Your family are two doors down and the kids are here. The chances of at least one of them knocking on my door before I want to get up in the morning are high, and I don’t want to have to explain why we share a bed when we’re not married. Do you?”
“Not particularly.”
“Exactly. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As soon as the hallway door closed behind her she double checked the lock on the adjoining door before flipping over the door lock. If she’d looked out the peephole she would have seen a confused and disappointed Dan standing in the hallway.
The next few days passed in a haze of having the kids around, working, and ignoring Zak. She knew he was the original source of the rumours the year before, he was the one who got Mazepin to start spreading that she was sleeping with all three of her boys. It was her greatest pleasure to get to tell him no, and she did it with joy.
But in between finalising as much as she could before her resignation was sent she had time to wander Melbourne alone. She loved the city. It had always welcomed her in, it was Dan’s home race and the place where she knew everyone adored him. Em wandered around a craft market, finding a jewellery maker who made gold charms and engraved them on the spot. It took her all of ten seconds to buy two and get them put on different coloured leather cords, one each for Isaac and Isabella. The front had a pair of angel wings for each of her angel kids, and the engraving on the back read love you forever, Auntie Emmy. 
Leaving her family behind was going to be the hardest part of this, and she needed to make sure that they knew just how much she loved them. Em was so aware that she was about to be the first adult to choose to walk out of their lives, and she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to break their hearts the way hers would break too. She just hoped that when they realised she wasn’t coming back they’d know she wanted to tell them how much she loved them.
Practice and qualifying were shit and she felt her dislike of the team growing even stronger. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to deal with the stupid orange team and the way that they were favouring Lando already. Dan was the one who won a race last year, not Lando. He was the one who had proven himself with podiums galore. But they didn’t care.
That night she left the door between their rooms unlocked. Her bags were half packed, her resignation email was scheduled to send and she’d triple checked the timezone on it. Em had spent the last two days hugging everyone as much as she could, surprising Chloe by popping into the Aston garage before a practice and waving to Lance and Seb as she pulled Chloe into a giant hug. Scotty got one too, trying to put the love and care she had for her best friends outside her boys into a hug. There were waves to the people she couldn’t hug because rumours would start, giving Susie a recommendation for the restaurant they all ate at the night before so she and Toto could have a family meal with Jack in privacy. The small things to make sure everyone knew she thought about them and loved them.
Em couldn’t sleep straight away. Nights before races were hard, the crashes she’d watched with her own two eyes usually playing in her head. Dan in Anthoine’s car, Dan in Grosjean’s. Dan in Lewis’s place the year before with no halo. Dan in the rain and a tractor on track. All the ways she knew people had died racing she thought about and she couldn’t deal. Her fear every time Dan slid into his seat in the car was all encompassing but racing was his first love and she could never ask him to stop.
She was about to get up and go down to Michael’s room to ask for some melatonin, but the doorknob between the two rooms rattled and clicked open quietly. Em stayed still as she was, breathing in and out steadily.
Dan slipped into the other side of the bed. If she just opened her eyes she’d be able to see him. If she reached her fingers out slightly she could touch him. It was the first time they’d shared a bed since Bahrain and being just over covid and she wanted him to hold her. Her body was screaming to curl into him and tell him she loves him and she’s his and she doesn’t want him to fall in love with anyone else because she wants him to love her. To choose her over all the models in the world he could have.
She didn’t sleep that night, too aware of his presence in the bed. She could hear his snores but she didn’t dare look up at him, didn’t dare move in case she disturbed him. He needed his sleep the night before a race.
As the morning dawned through crappy hotel curtains she could feel the vibrations from the alarm on his watch, the one he always used to try let her get some extra sleep when he needed to be up early.
Please kiss my forehead. Please, Dan. Please just give me any sign you want me to stay. Don’t leave me again.
Every morning was the same when they shared a bed. He’d delay until the very last minute to stay in the warmth and then kiss her forehead in goodbye. And then he’d leave, not content to get out from there until he made sure she knew he said goodbye.
This time he slid out of the bed without touching her, padding across the still room and going back into his. Em heard the lock slide shut on his side and rolled over, tears filling her eyes.
It hurt so much already, how was she supposed to pretend that everything was fine? How was she supposed to act normal around everyone when she wanted to scream that they were over and nothing would ever be the same again? How could she be okay when she felt like this? 
He’d left her alone. Again. He hadn’t even touched her but he’d slept in her bed and she never thought Dan could be so cruel. She never thought he’d leave her with the barest hint of his scent, that if she hadn’t been awake she wouldn’t have known he was there. The ache spread through her chest and she tried to quiet her sobs but it hurt. It hurt so, so badly.
A cold shower soothed her puffy face, getting rid of some of the usual redness while makeup did the rest. She was dressed in her usual race day gear of shorts, vans, a McLaren polo, and a Dan hat on her head by the time there was a knock on her door, Michael standing there.
“Hey, I’m heading in with Dan and Blake now. He said you’re going in with his family in an hour?” Another cut in her heart. More space between them. But she schooled her face into a smile, hoping Michael would believe everything was fine.
“Yeah. I said I wanted as much time with the kids as possible, it’s fine.  See you there?”
“See you there.”
Michael was a couple of metres away from her when she stepped into the hall, grabbing her room key from the slot just inside the door.
“Michael?” He turned and she half jogged, pulling him into a tight hug.
“What’s this for?”
“Haven’t seen you as much. You know you’re my brother, right? How lucky I am to have you as my family?”
“You’re the most annoying little sister Ems, but you’re my little sister. I’ve missed having you around.”
“Miss you too.”
She watched him walk away as step one of her goodbyes was done. The next was to go to breakfast with everyone and pretend that things were normal for the next few hours until the race was over. She could do it. She had to.
Breakfast with the extended Ricciardo clan was fun, Isabella still clinging to her and Isaac insisting on sitting beside her. She soaked up every moment she got with them, walking out to the car Dan had arranged holding Isabella on her hip.
“That’ll be you in a few years,” Michelle commented as Em struggled with the car seat buckle before getting it right. “The mother, not the cool aunt. We can swap places.”
Another stab to her already mangled heart. “I dunno. Wait and see, but I’m not sure that’s on the cards any time soon.” Considering the only man she wanted to have a child with didn’t want to be with her, it was a no.
You’ll be a good mother, Em. Plus you’ll have loads of family around.” She wanted to scream that she was leaving her family behind for good this afternoon but instead she just smiled tightly. It was too close to home. She couldn’t keep this conversation going. It hurt.
The race matched her mood. The strategy wasn’t good, the car was a tractor, and the oblique team orders to not let Dan try overtake Lando made her want to scream. The team points would be the same, but no. Not for his home race even. The crowd were amazing and let out loud cheers every time the orange car made its way around the circuit, but it wasn’t enough and Em knew it. It hurt. Her last time at a Grand Prix, her last time cheering for the man she was so deeply in love with, and the team and car had let him down again.
The plan was already to delay debrief till Monday so Dan got to spend time with his family, and Em decided to head to the airport nearly immediately. She couldn’t stay any longer. She couldn’t deal with any more hints from Michelle about a niece or nephew in the future, couldn’t listen to Grace or Joe talking about how much they’d missed her. She couldn’t spend more time with Blake and Michael without wanting to break down and tell them that they had changed her life and she wouldn’t make them choose between her and Dan.
Because that was what it came down to. She was the last one in this group that was all united by their love of Daniel Ricciardo. She was the one who loved him so deeply it hurt, the one who loved every single member of the group to the moon and to Saturn. And she loved them so much she couldn’t bear to have them walk away from her. Because that was what would happen.
Her own blood family didn’t choose her. They saw her as a disgrace, as a failure because she was thirty one years old, unmarried and without kids. They didn’t realise that she was the one who kept Dan on schedule, who organised sponsor events and filtered out the crap he and Blake didn’t need to know about. She stopped the balls from falling out of the sky. Because she was just an assistant.
And if the people who gave birth to her wouldn’t choose her, she knew the family she’d built wouldn’t either. She was never the one who was chosen, and she didn’t blame them. She was just Emma. Danny was Dan. She knew who she’d pick if given a quarter of a chance.
She’d just finished packing when the adjoining door opened, Dan walking in already speaking but stopping when he saw the case by the door, her carry on full with the edge of the orange poster getting folded in.
“Where are you going?” His tone was accusatory and she steeled herself for the argument.
“Home.”
“Emmy…”
“Don’t Emmy me, Daniel! You know I have to go back for the anniversary.” She turned to look at him, watching as confusion turned to anger.
“And I also know that’s bullshit. I’ve known you for how many years, Em? You’ve visited your parents twice. Michael was with you one of those times, the visit lasted twenty minutes and even he didn’t have anything nice to say about it. Michael. Who has a good thing to say about almost everyone. So tell me the truth, why are you leaving now? Why not get on the flight with us tomorrow?”
“Because I have to go back.”
“Don’t lie to me Em!” He raised his voice and Em gave as good as she got, staring back at him.
“You want the truth, Dan? All of it?”
“Yes! That’s all I want, it’s all I’ve ever wanted with you.”
She took a deep breath, staring into his brown eyes for the last time, soaking in that even so angry he was so beautiful. She’d had the privilege of sleeping with him for nearly four years, of loving him for three. Whoever got to do that next would be so incredibly lucky.
“You left me alone. The one thing I ever asked of you, the only thing I ever asked you to promise me was to never leave me alone. I begged you. Whatever was going on, whatever was happening with us, please don’t leave me alone. And then there were bombs flying and I watched one explode and you made me get into a car and leave. You made me stay alone, and you didn’t come back to me that night. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know if you were even alive because I didn’t have my fucking phone until the next morning and all the news was in Arabic. You were gone to the track before I knew what had happened. You left. You broke your promise, Daniel.”
“I didn’t have a choice!” It was the worst thing he could have said.
“But Blake and Michael got to stay. Angela stayed with Lewis, don’t try to lie to me and tell me she didn’t. Britta stayed with Seb. You sent me away, Dan. I was sobbing and begging you to stay and you made Blake drive me away. You made me leave when I was scared.” She let her words sink into him fully. “Just leave. Get out of this room and leave.”
“Emmy…” His voice was soft and she blinked back the tears she knew she wanted to cry. Not until the airport. Not until then.
“GET OUT DAN!” She yelled at him for the first time, shock on his face. “JUST LEAVE! It’s what you’ve been doing this whole weekend, just leave.”
“Fine. Fine. If that’s what you want, I’m fucking gone. I’m done here, I’m gone. I’ll be downstairs in five for you to say goodbye to everyone.” She watched him walk through the adjoining door and lock it as Em’s heart completely broke in two. She’d ruined it. He was done. He was gone. He was leaving and she was going and she would never speak to him again because her Daniel wasn’t hers anymore. One person down, eight to go.
She brought her bags down to the lobby alone, everyone standing there waiting to say goodbye. Michael got a hug, she’d said everything she needed to earlier that day. Blake was beside him, wrapping her in a full body giant one and holding her tight.
“You know I love you, don’t you? I really love you.” Blake grinned and pulled her close again.
“Love you too, Ems. Moving beside you was the best decision I ever made.”
Saying goodbye to Michelle and Adam was hugs and whispers of seeing them for Christmas when she knew it was a lie. Grace pulled her into a hug that only a mother figure could, whispering in her ear.
“We’re coming over for Silverstone and yours and Dan’s birthdays, so we’ll see you then. We love you Em. If you need anything I’m only a FaceTime away. Don’t let them get you down when you’re with your family.”
“I love you too, Grace.”
Joe got a hug and a murmured love you, his hand patting her back soothingly. The kids were last, sulking as Em squatted down in front of them.
“So I got my angels a present to say goodbye, cause I know I didn’t get to see you lots. Want to see them?” There were identical nods and Em strapped the bracelets on, Isaac’s on a black cord and Isabella’s on a purple one.
“It matches the one I made you and Uncle Dan,” Isabella murmured as Em pulled her into a tight hug.
“It does. It’s a reminder that I love you both so very, very much. No matter how far away we are, I’m always going to love you, okay? Don’t ever, ever forget that. Pinkie promise me?” She held out her little fingers, laughing as they both enthusiastically took part in the ritual. She pulled them in for a final hug, pressing kisses to both of their heads.
“See you on winter break!” Isaac grinned as he spoke, Em putting a tight smile on her face. 
“We call it summer break, but I’ll see what we have to do then buddy.”
“Do you want a lift to the airport? I’ve got the rental?” Joe asked but Em shook her head.
“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got an Uber coming, I just want to get on the road. It’s hard enough to say goodbye to everyone I can’t drag it out much longer.”
“Fair. Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you too, Joe.” Her phone buzzed with the notification that her driver was there and she started towards the door. Dan still hadn’t come down and that was it. He didn’t love her. He didn’t feel anything like how she did because no matter what he’d said, he’d never make her leave. But she made him leave. He was gone.
She was almost at the door when an oh too familiar voice called across the lobby, running up to them. 
“I didn’t think you’d be leaving already.”
“My Uber’s outside, I need to leave.”
“Oh.” There was none of their usual hugs, none of the subtle kisses he pushed to the top of her head when they were separated. He didn’t even squeeze her fingers. It was like they were strangers. “Send a text when you get to London?”
“Yeah, sure.”
She turned to get her luggage into the car, shielding her face from everyone with her hair. The driver lifted it in and she was soon safely ensconced in the back seat, tears falling down her cheeks as she waved goodbye behind partially tinted glass.
“Was that Daniel Ricciardo?” The driver asked, Em forcing a smile.
“Yeah, I work with him.” It was true for another five hours at least.
“He seems like a good guy.”
“He’s one of the best.”
Tears streamed down Em’s cheeks the entire way to the airport, through the fancy check in area and security, and following her into her first class pod. She mostly ignored the staff apart from nodding at them, continuing to cry and wipe her eyes on tissues. The tears barely stopped until Dubai, only aided by Blake’s near constant texts as soon as her email sent.
She knew when she arrived in London that she had about twelve hours before the boys landed, Blake texting even while he was on his flights. She sent a I got back safely, receiving another flurry of responses.
Em, what’s this email about?
What’s going on?
Tell me you didn’t mean to send this
Is it the travel? Do you want to slow down? Why?
Ems we need you. How am I supposed to tell everyone you’re not coming with us anymore? Did you meet someone? Did something happen?
We’re about to land in Heathrow. Dan’s going to his place and looks miserable. I’ll be at your door in less than two hours.
When she got the final text Em grabbed the bags she’d hastily packed with clothes and the things she needed for the next eight days until the boys had left London for Imola. The address of the last minute airbnb was in her email, getting an Uber to it handy. She was long gone by the time Blake arrived, sitting in her temporary home for the next while and planning what she had to do. They’d leave England on the Wednesday, she had five days to empty her flat.
It started with an email to her landlord to give up the lease. Her family reasons excuse was accepted quickly, the landlord told she had to leave London and the apartment would be vacant from the end of the month. After that she had to start planning on where to go to.
There were too many memories in London. Nearly every street reminded her of Dan, of days walking around hand in hand to show him her London, not the tourist one he knew. The city she’d moved to at eighteen with a dream and a student loan and where she’d discovered who she was. Dan was everywhere in the city for her - memories of their first kiss in the pub she’d spent too many hours in, museums she’d dragged him to, streets he’d stolen a kiss from her at with a grin and a chuckle when they were waiting to cross the road. The cafes and greasy spoons she’d brought him to with the promise of not telling Michael. She couldn’t stay there, it was too much.
But everywhere she thought of had memories of him. Filthy weekends away when they were at home because of covid, eating out to help out and driving to Manchester or Glasgow to spend time together and have hotel sex. The midlands were completely out because of Silverstone, of memories of Enstone and the Renault factory, of Milton Keynes and his goodbye from Red Bull.
The only big city she could think of without a memory of Dan - with only one memory of her boys - was Liverpool. Which meant her parents. Which meant a conversation she never wanted to have. Calling her mother wasn’t like calling Grace. But she didn’t have Grace in her life anymore, so she had to do it.
“Emma, what country do you deign to call us from today?” Her mother answered the phone, disdain dripping from every word.
“Good morning, Mother. I’m in England. I was calling because I need to ask for a favour from you.”
“Yes?”
Em swallowed, teeing up words on her too thick tongue. “I had to leave my job, they didn’t have the funding to keep me on. I was wondering if I could move home for a few weeks while I’m applying for new jobs. I want to leave motorsports, there’s too much travelling and I want to settle down.” She hit every keyword that her mother had as she checked her bank account balance, spotting her final pay deposited in the account. It was more than healthy thanks to travelling so much for work and Dan covering that under work expenses. But she needed to be sensible, and renting somewhere without a job would be a mistake.
“You can. You will need to pay rent while you’re here.”
“Of course. Just let me know how much. It wont be for long, it’s just a few weeks. It’ll be like I won’t even be there, if I’m not interviewing I’ll be in my bedroom.”
“Fine. Let me know when you plan to arrive.” She sounded bored of the conversation already.
“I’ll be back April twenty fourth. I can send you the train details then.
“See you then.”
The difference between the call with her mother and a call with Grace just cut the wound in her chest even harder. Grace never let a call end without a million “I love you”s between them. She made sure that Em spoke to everyone in the family, and if Joe was out at the garage she took a message and told Em that he loved her. Instead her mother hadn’t even asked if Em wanted to leave a message for her father.
It felt so, so wrong.
The list of things she had to do before the boys left for Italy was beginning to shrink, but there was still so much to do. She ignored Blake and Michael’s texts, refusing to even open them. The chats were archived so the red dots didn’t irritate her. Dan didn’t send her anything at all, yet more proof that he meant everything he said in Melbourne. He was done with her. She didn’t realise that emotional pain could hurt this much. She’d never believed in soulmates, never believed in fate. She always thought that if a relationship ended she’d get through it. But now? This not quite a relationship over? It ached to her core.
Friday morning she had an appointment with a solicitor, walking in with a tear stained sheet of what she wanted to leave to different people. She’d always fought with Dan about being prepared if something happened to him, not wanting to know what he left her. She was one of the two people who could decide what medical treatment he got if he couldn’t consent. She’d cried when he told her that day in Spa when they got that tragic news what he wanted if he was in a crash like that. That he trusted her to not let him stay on machines. Some of her nightmares included his plaintive “I don’t want false hope” that made her ache.
She didn’t trust her parents to not do the same for her. They’d keep her hooked up to machines for as long as possible, they’d insist it was for “hope”. Em didn’t know what hope, but she knew them. They’d barely spoken for five years apart from occasional texts and birthday cards, they didn’t have the right to decide what happened to her.
It was a blustery Friday morning when she walked into that office and signed the papers to say Daniel Ricciardo, Blake Friend, and Michael Italiano were the people who decided what would happen if she couldn’t make her own medical decisions. She gave the lawyer the makeshift will that was handwritten and tearstained. It was simple - her cookbooks and exercise equipment to Michael because he was always trying to adapt her recipes. All but one piece of her furniture to Blake. Her CDs and DVDs to Dan, along with the coffee table he kept falling over. Her collection of Dan’s raceworn helmets to Isaac and Isabella. Dan, Grace, and Michelle were to divide her jewellery between them based on who wanted what. The rest of her belongings were to be sold and the money put in Isaac and Isabella’s college funds. It was too easy.
Even after everything that had happened, even after walking away, she trusted her boys more than she trusted anyone else in the world.
After all of that her final task was to organise her storage unit and movers. That was easiest of all if Em was honest. A call to a moving company who agreed to put everything in the unit without her there, and walking into a storage company. She signed a two year contract and paid the full rent then and there, surprising the man at the counter. Now she was able to disappear.
The texts kept coming from Blake and Michael. WhatsApp and iMessage, even a signal account she’d forgotten she had on her phone. Michael sent her instagram DMs so she deleted the app instead of trying to avoid reading them and appearing online. But finally it was Wednesday and she knew exactly when the boys were flying out of London City Airport. She’d organised the private flight for them, booked the plane and made sure the flight was as clean as possible. As soon as they’d take off her plan could start.
Walking back into her apartment felt too normal, just checking her post and finding it mostly full of letters from Blake. Get in touch, we’re worried, we miss you. Sentiments she knew he’d share but it would be easy for him to forget about her. The letters went out in recycling and she began to pack up her life.
The boxes were settled easily. Storage, donating, and Dan’s stuff. The ones for him filled quickly, clothes and accessories and things he’d left lying around the apartment that had become theirs instead of just hers. It took three boxes to get rid of the sense of him.
The storage boxes were easier, but the final thing she had to do at four that Sunday morning was decide what to do with her helmet wall. Ever since Monaco and his win, Dan had given her his race worn helmet for any new race design. She could name which race each of them was from, and in the middle was her Monza win one. McLaren had wanted it for the MTC but Dan refused to give it over, insisting it was his and he was keeping it. They got the trophy so he got the helmet. And then he put it in the middle of the IKEA shelves that they’d spent a weekend putting together and laughing.
Part of her - a large part if she was truly honest - wanted to donate them. Get rid of them for the clean break she insisted she needed. But she couldn’t. They were the good parts of the last four years, the best part of her life and the reminder that for years she got to love Daniel Ricciardo and travel the world with her best friends. Once she was settled somewhere she’d put them all back up to get her and explain to whoever asked that she was a part of Formula One for a short while, and it meant so much to her.
It took longer than she expected to get them wrapped carefully and boxed away. Two just about fit in one box, but they were light at least. When they were carefully labelled with the races, a tear falling from her eye when she wrote Monaco 2018 on a box in looping letters, she sat down to write notes to her boys. They deserved more than a resignation email and leaving without saying goodbye but if she saw them in person she wouldn’t walk away. She was barely strong enough to do that the first time. Em couldn’t do it again.
Dan’s took the longest. It started with anger. How could you make me love you when you didn’t love me back scrawled angrily, tears staining the lined pages as she wrote everything. But she couldn’t give it to him how she’d written it. She couldn’t deliberately hurt him. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that she’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t love her back the way she wanted him to love her. It was her fifth draft, still tear stained, that was the one she was giving him.
Danny,
I’m sorry I didn’t say this in person but I couldn’t do it. We both know that things between us haven’t been working for a while. It’s nobody’s fault. I guess we just wanted different things. It happens to us all. But we’re both done and writing this is easier than another long conversation and another fight.
Go be happy. I’ll cheer you on from wherever I end up, no matter what. You’ve changed so many lives, mine included. Thank you for the amazing years and experiences. You let me do things that so few people ever get to do and I can’t thank you enough for that.
Emma
Michael and Blake’s were harder and easier. She only needed one attempt at them, trying to wipe the tears before they fell.
Blakey,
I’m sorry for leaving like this. I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch, but I made sure that everything logistically is booked until the summer break. Just get him where he needs to be on time, you were always better at that than me.
I love you. You’re my big brother and i wasn’t going to make you choose between me and Dan, that was never going to be fair. I’ll be happy and I want you to be happy too. Find a girl and settle down or bring her around the world. I’m rooting for you the entire time.
Will you make sure everyone in the paddock knows I love them? Tell Chloe and Scotty to get their wedding planned. Chloe will be the most beautiful bride and I’m so sorry I won’t get to see her in person. Scotty will look ok, I guess.
Thank you for everything.
Love,
Ems
PS - the extra key is for my storage unit. A1 Storage in Wimbledon. Figured you’d be a good person to have it.
She folded Blake’s letter into an envelope and labelled it before writing the last one. Somehow this was the hardest, having to ask Michael to do what she couldn’t.
Mike,
I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for asking you to pass a message on but I know you will. I love you so much. You made lockdown bearable even when I was being a bitch, and you made me actually enjoy exercising you cruel man.
Tell everyone that I love them and I’m sorry? You let me know exactly what a family is and how I deserve to be loved and that’s something I can never thank you enough for. Ever. I can’t make people decide between me and Dan. He wins every time and that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’s easier if I just leave.
Tell Grace and Joe I love them and I will forever be grateful for their love and support. Let Michelle know that she’s the best big sister ever. Please make sure that Isaac and Isabella know that I love them no matter what. It’s not their fault I left and I will always love them. Whoever gets to be their auntie is the luckiest person in the world and I wish it got to be me.
Tell all your family I love them, and ti voglio bene to Nadia and your Nana. I love you all so much, and I’m cheering you all on from wherever I end up.
Love,
Em
When the movers came she handed them the key to the storage unit, letting them know what to do. Everything was out of the apartment in a few moments and Em took a last look around her almost empty apartment. The memories were suffocating. Dan tripping over the coffee table, the London lockdown when they got back from Australia and they lied to Michael about what the yoga mat’s primary purpose was. The way Dan danced with her in the dark kitchen, distracting her from finding food for them in the fridge and getting them to sway in the silence. The kisses and living together like he loved her the same way she loved him.
He’d been blowing up her voicemail since Wednesday and she deleted them I listened to. The first “Emmy” hurt her too much, so she decided to practice self preservation for once. As soon as her voicemail said “you have an unlistened to voicemail from Dan” it was deleted. The same with Blake and Michael. She couldn’t do it.
Finally it was time to leave, and she carried Dan’s boxes one at a time into Blake’s apartment. The three were stacked one atop the other, the letters on top of them. Em stared at her thumb, at the moon ring that had been there since Dan bought it for her calling her his moon on dark nights. She couldn’t bear to take off the three necklace hanging on her chest, but this she had to leave behind. She wasn’t his moon, and he was too bright to be her sun.
She slipped it off and rubbed her finger against the warm gold, pushing a kiss to it before stepping back. The final thing she needed to do was leave the envelope with her medical power papers and will on Blake’s coffee table before she locked the front door and slipped his keys in his post box. It was done. She was gone.
The tube to Euston was quicker than expected and she joined the trek to the Liverpool train, settling into her seat a few minutes before they were due to pull out. Her phone lit up with a notification that the race was about to start, illuminating the photo from lockdown of her and Dan holding Isaac and Isabella. They looked like a family. Em unlocked her phone and pushed her thumb firmly down on the F1 app to delete it. A clean break.
The train pulled off exactly at two, her mind echoing Crofty’s “lights out and away we go”. Dan was in the car and racing and all she wanted was a good points finish for him. But she couldn’t check. She couldn’t let herself find out what he was doing.
Her tears fell harder as the train pulled into Milton Keynes, the memories of the last time she’d done this train journey as Dan’s plus one. His leaving Red Bull party, staying in a hotel with him the week before they flew to Perth for Christmas. It was the only time she’d gotten to visit the impressive Red Bull factory. Meeting Max properly, Christian cornering her with his wife - and keeping her cool around Geri fucking Halliwell - to ask if she could convince Dan to come back. Getting whisked away from Helmut quickly when he tried to speak to her, meeting the mechanics and team that she’d seen at several races properly for once. Yet another place she could never visit again because all she’d think about was Dan.
Em made herself stop crying shortly after, pushing a cold bottle of water to her eyes. She couldn’t be red eyed or puffy seeing her parents. It was bad enough returning with her tail between her legs. She didn’t know if she’d survive the I told you so.
*
When Dan got out of the car in Imola he knew what he had to do. His first stop was being weighed and getting his slip, Mike pushing one of those AG1 drinks into his hand to down to get electrolytes and water back into him. After that it was media rounds, apologising to Carlos, and doing media. Once the debrief was finished it was London. He needed to get to Emmy. For the second time he’d gotten on a plane when he should have been with her and he needed to apologise. Needed to make things right.
“The jet will be ready when we finish? I need to get back to London tonight.” Michael handed him a McLaren branded shirt and pair of skinny jeans to put on once he was out of the shower.
“It’ll be ready. Mate, you need to know that she might not want—“
“She’ll see me. It’s Em. She’s my Emmy. She’s going to see me and I’m going to tell her everything. I can’t do this without her. I can’t. I dunno how I did it before.”
“Ok. Go shower and head out.”
The debrief was painful. Lando on the fucking podium, Dan last. They wrote off his technical debrief after the collision. It was clear Dan couldn’t have done anything, and the rest of his race was nothing to write home about. He should have just retired. It was shit and he just had to listen to how Lando had a flawless race and was extracting the most out of the tractor McLaren had built. He had to wait until it was over, half listening and taking notes while stewing.
All he could think about was Emmy. He hadn’t reached out because he thought she needed space, wanted time. He’d had the fucking ring in his pocket in the hotel room and then they’d fought and he couldn’t exactly get on one knee and ask her to marry him after that. But now she was gone and she’d been gone for weeks and he didn’t know. He needed her to be ok. He needed to go home and see her on the couch and beg for her forgiveness because he was hers. His apartment was so fucking lonely, driving in and out of the factory without seeing her. Without going to sleep curled up beside her and waking up with the fairy lights glowing as she read whatever dog eared book she was rereading that month.
The voicemails were being listened to. Her inbox went from full to empty and he kept texting, determined to get through to her. Needing her to talk to him. To say anything at all. People kept asking where she was, he laughed it off and gave the excuse of family stuff. Natalie had nodded and said she hoped Em would be back soon. Chloe had looked at him oddly when she heard the excuse but he shrugged and moved on. The elder Stroll could be terrifying and he didn’t want to get on her bad side. Not even Scotty could save him from that.
There was nothing he could do but wait to be freed. The moment they were able to break - after Dan apologised to the mechanics for the job they’d have to do on the car - he was on his way to the driver room. Blake and Michael were already there with bags packed and ready to go.
It was a two hour flight to London and they landed at nine. After forcing their way through traffic in a black cab it was after nine thirty by the time they arrived at Blake and Em’s building. Dan stepped out of the car and grabbed his bags, heading straight upstairs to the two identical doors. He didn’t realise when it became more normal to stand in front of Em’s door than Blakes, but it had years before. He knocked twice to no response.
“Em? I’ve got my key, I’m coming in.”
The lock turned easily with the familiar key and Dan set his bags down to flick the light switch. What he saw terrified him.
The room was empty. The couch that killed his back, the coffee table his shins hated, gone. The bookshelves and the kitchen table they’d spent a lockdown day building, gone. Her helmet collection was missing. Em had once told him that if the building went on fire she would save whichever helmets she could. If they were gone, she was gone.
He ran to her bedroom but everything was missing. The fairy lights they’d taped up with double sided tape. Her bed. The throw cushions he laughed about. Even the case at the bottom of her wardrobe with the lingerie he’d bought her was gone. Her pink boots weren't there. It was like nobody had lived there for years. He couldn’t even smell her perfume in the air.
“Dan?” He hadn’t realised tears were streaming down his face when he turned to see his best mates standing in the doorway. “Mate, you need to see this.”
He followed them back to Blakes, pausing to lock Emmy’s front door. She had to come back. The idea that she wouldn’t come back was impossible.
Until he saw the boxes.
Three of them, neatly stacked almost up to Blake’s chest. There were three envelopes on them, and a glint of gold on top of one. He nearly ran to it, ignoring the post race soreness going through his body to see the ring he’d given her sitting on top of the one neatly labelled Daniel.
She’d used his first name. Emmy never used his first name unless something was wrong. He’d fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to open it.
Instead he held the ring firmly in his palm, the metal cold against his hand. She was there. She had been there and now she was gone and he didn’t know what to do. But instead he followed what Blake and Michael had done and opened his letter.
It was how impersonal it was that killed him. Em was done. She’d be fine. Thanking him for bringing her around the world and letting her work with him. She didn’t want another fight and she thought he was done with her.
She didn’t love him like he loved her and for a brief moment that made him want to die. The moments they’d shared, the times they’d said they loved each other. The times he’d held her and traced I love you down her back or against her clit when he was eating her out, desperate for her to know but too afraid to say it. The 'y’know, right?'. Everything from the last nearly four years. None of it had ever mattered because she wouldn’t have married him. He had her ring in his fucking ever present backpack and thank God he hadn’t tried to propose because she’d have said no and he’d have been humiliated.
“I guess you were right. Buying the ring was a mistake.”
His choked voice broke the silence, but it was Michael who got the next sentence in, cutting off Blake’s question about the ring.
“Mate, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“She doesn’t love me like I love her. I was wrong. I just got my heart broken so please, don’t rub it in right now?”
“Did you read any of what she wrote?”
“Yeah. She’s done. She thanked me for letting her travel with us. Like she didn’t earn her place. She signed it Emma. I was wrong, ok? I was wrong and I can’t take you rubbing it the fuck in when I think Im gonna break.”
“What happened? Because the two of you were fine in Bahrain, and then after Saudi she disappeared and skipped Perth, and she was barely in Melbourne. What happened with you?” Blake was the one who asked, Dan flopping on the couch beside him. He held out his much shorter letter for them to read.
“Things were weird when we got back after Christmas. Then we had covid and got through it. And Saudi fucking happened. With everything going on and keeping her safe I didn’t see her till after the race and she was already leaving. And in Melbourne we… We had a fight.” The memories of what he’d said were circling again, the anger between them, Em telling him to leave again. Him walking away.
“We thought that much. You didn’t even hug her goodbye.”
“She told me to leave!”
“In self preservation.” Michael’s voice was low and Dan was almost afraid of his best friend. “She said she didn’t want to make us choose between you and her, that she knew we’d pick you. So she left. I have to tell your fucking family she’s gone, by the way. She asked me to. So you’re going to tell me everything that’s happened between the two of you and we’re going to fix this. What the fuck did you do?”
He wanted to be annoyed that he was being blamed but he couldn’t blame the boys. So he let everything out.
He told them about wanting to kiss her in Blake’s that first night, of Monaco and their agreement that it was over once she left Monaco. Coffee and Silverstone and her birthday drinks. Spa and I love you when they were faced with the reality of what could happen with his job again. Em begging him to never leave her behind, that no matter what he wouldn’t leave her alone. Her dick of an ex who’d destroyed her self-esteem and meant she lost her friends. The meaning of 'Y’know, right?', the phrase that had been their mantra since 2019. That he hadn’t slept with anyone else since he’d met her because he just knew she was supposed to be his. That he’d bought the ring when they spent Christmas 2020 together but was just waiting for the right moment. And then in Saudi she’d been sobbing and he sent her away. He made Blake take her away from him. From them. He’d broken his fucking promise and again in Australia he walked away when he should have stayed in that room.
She’d picked the fight. She’d picked it so she’d be left alone and leave and the realisation of how well she fucking knew him hurt so much. She knew him like the palm of her hand and for a minute he forgot about it.
“Let me get this straight. You’ve known just how shit her family is for longer than any of us, and I’m the only one who’s actually met them. She asked for exactly one thing from you which was don’t leave her alone. And in Saudi, one of the countries she’s most scared of being away from us for any length of time, you made her go back to the hotel and stay there on her own. She begged you to stay and was sobbing and you left her to cry when she asked you to stay? I could fucking punch you right now.” He nodded at Michael’s words, shame filling every cell in his body.
“You made us leave her alone.” Blake spoke and Dan thought he was going to be sick. “In Melbourne. The morning of the race. 'Em’s going with my parents. She wants family time.' She didn’t know she was going with them, did she? Why?”
“She… I… No. We weren’t ok. I didn’t know if I could be in the car with her. Not after that night.”
“What happened?”
“I… Fuck. She kept the door between our rooms locked that whole week. But Saturday night it wasn’t locked. I had a habit of just trying it, just in case. It was open and I went in. I just lay down on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep for a while before falling asleep. I left before she woke up. She didn’t know, she was asleep the whole time.”
“You think our Ems was asleep for a full night before a fucking race? Are you an idiot? Did you get brain damage in that crash today? She doesn’t fucking sleep! You slept in the same bed as her for four fucking years and you don't know that? She’s into me for melatonin every damn night because she can’t sleep worrying about you. She was awake that entire night and you left her without saying a goddamn word and then you abandoned her again. Again, Dan. Don’t tell me you did something stupid and cheated on her like her fucking ex.”
“I never cheated. I haven’t touched another woman.” The thought made him sick. “I’m not that asshole. You know I’m not.”
“I don’t mean to be funny Dan. She lived beside me for nearly five years. She’s my friend. And now her apartment is for rent, your shit is here, and she’s told us all goodbye and to give messages to the people she loves. So you might not have cheated on her, but you broke her. It took us four years to help Em feel like herself again and put her pieces back together and you broke her.” Blake was opening another envelope mixed in with the post on his coffee table that Em had left in as he spoke, eyes widening slightly. Before he could get the words out Michael had to.
“You’re telling your family, by the way.” His voice was solid, a way Dan had never heard before. “She asked me to tell them but I can’t. I can’t break those kids hearts and tell them their auntie Emmy loves them forever but she can’t see them again. I can’t tell your sister that she’s lost a sister, and I can’t tell your parents that you ran off the woman they want you to marry. That the woman your mum teaches family recipes to had to leave, because you fucked up that much. You know she’s their second daughter, right? Even before whatever the fuck you’ve been doing started they adored her. From Monaco. Em’s lost the only decent mother she’s ever had because of you. She didn’t want to make us choose but if she was here right now I’d choose her over you any day.”
“If you think she doesn’t love you, read this.” Blake held out a package of papers, Dan skimming them.
Everyone in his line of work was familiar with leaving a will behind. The fucking academies basically demanded it at this point. He’d put Emmy on his own medical power of attorney form after Spa, told her what he was leaving her when she was ready for that conversation after Roman nearly died in Bahrain. 
But Emma wasn't racing cars every weekend, so she didn't need the papers she signed. She didn't need to leave a will behind, but his name was there to make decisions for Em. She’d left him specific things. The cold fear snaked up his spine, tightening around his lungs and making it hard to breathe.
“She wouldn’t. She won’t do anything stupid. It’s Em, she wouldn’t.” The words came out as a rush but certain. She wouldn’t hurt herself. God, he couldn’t live with himself if she did.
“It’s probably just a precaution. But Jesus Christ, Dan. She’s gone. We have no idea where she is, we don’t even know what country she’s in. We don’t know what kind of head start she has and with the amount of frequent flier miles she has she could be anywhere. We can probably cross off here and Australia, but that doesn’t take away much.” 
“I need to leave.” Dan turned to see Michael pick up his bag. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk. I’ll email you workout plans. She’s my fucking sister, Dan. She’s my little sister and I trusted you knew what you were doing with her. She said goodbye to me and I didn’t even know. You… I can’t look at you right now. I’m this close to quitting too because I don’t know you anymore. The Dan I grew up with? He would have said something. He wouldn’t make the woman he kept saying he was going to make his wife run away. He wouldn’t make her feel unloved. Just work out what you’re going to do. I’ll be on the plane to Miami but I don’t know if I’ll see you before then.” Dan watched as his oldest friend, the man he’d known since primary school, who’d supported him through thick and thin, walked out of the apartment into the London night.
“She’s gone. She’s really gone and she’s not coming back. I… I have to find her, Blake. I can’t do this without her.”
“You need to work out what you’re doing. You need to tell your family she’s gone. You need to do your job. We’re all hurting right now and yeah your heart is breaking. But its my job to do tough love and tell you that you need to work first and then think about her.” He stared at Blake in shock. “I’m pissed. But work first. Em somehow managed to take everything off my plate when she was leaving, because she didn’t want to make things hard on me. Go home, Dan. I have to call Chloe Stroll and tell her Em’s not coming back.”
“Not yet. Please. Let me f—“
“I’m telling her. You can hide it from the media, from your family, whatever. Chloe is Em’s best friend outside us. Do you really think she hasn’t tried calling Em already? Really?” Dan nodded once. “Go home. Your place, not the empty apartment next door you called home. Go home and get your shit together. Em would kill you if you fucked up a race over her.”
Dan got an Uber on his phone, taking his bags downstairs along with his letter from Em. He slipped the moon ring onto his little finger, settling it just above the sun. He needed her back. He just didn’t know how to find her.
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Hey! I just found your blog and I've read through your work and I love it 💗 can I request MC trying to talk the brothers out of confessing to them?
(Perhaps taking place towards the end of season 1, beginning of season 2)
The brothers tell MC they love "LOVE" them and MC thinks they're joking and when they finally realize that the brothers are being serious MC's like "I thought you had better taste... are you sure you're not just infatuated with an idealized version of me that you created in your head? I mean you can do better, besides what would the people of Devildom think? Honestly, I didn't really get the impression you liked "liked" me in that way... I think you should think it through, maybe it's because I'm a novelty that your interested in me?" Or something along those lines? The point is that MC doubts their feelings and thinks they can do better.
Thank you so much! 💓
This is one of my favorite prompts because it’s so realistic and human and authentic. Which is terrifying too because I know I’m not gonna do it justice and I’m so freaking late on this. Back on topic - what makes us special to these brothers? Is it going to last? How long until we’re nothing new? (starts playing Taylor Swift in the background while I contemplate these)
Lucifer: Lucifer is vaguely insulted by the implication that you don’t trust him to know his own feelings. Yes, he understands your self doubt because he’s the high level demon Lucifer, the best of the best, and it makes sense that you would feel intimidated by that. But to doubt his feelings is to doubt Lucifer’s judgement and that won’t stand. He knows who’s worth his time and affection (no one) and he is not willing to open himself up to such a state of vulnerability without absolute certainty. So when he says he loves you, it’s true. He’s been around a long time and you’re the only person who has been able to capture his attention and heart in such a way; he isn’t worried at all about the feelings fading or being an illusion. He is under no delusions of who you really are - the person who doesn’t listen to him and runs wild with his brothers and causes so many problems in the Devildom and also the person who brought his family back together again and who reminded Lucifer of who he used to be and could still be. He will provide you reason after reason to back his point if you need it but he really feels he should only have to express his feelings once to make it clear.
Mammon: Mammon’s feelings are definitely hurt when you question him, even if it’s coming from a good place. He knows he’s not the most serious demon and maybe he’s a bit of a tsundere but he doesn’t understand how you can doubt him after everything you’ve been through together. He’s your first man, you’re his best-friend. Mammon is no stranger to romance and flirting over the millenia; demons, angels, witches, humans, etc. He’s got options, almost as many as Asmo, but you are the only person who has ever made him feel this good, this special and loved and in love.It breaks his heart a little every time you doubt his love for you. He might not be the best at talking about his feelings but he promises that he will spend the rest of his life showing you exactly how much he loves you for you, the same way you love him for him - the good and the bad and the weird. He is yours until the end of time, whether or not you’ll ever actually be his.
Levi: Of all the brothers, Levi is probably the most understanding of your doubts - not regarding him, that’s super crazy and he doesn’t understand how you could ever think he could do better than you. He does understand how self-doubt doesn’t always follow logic so he actually does well not taking it personally when you ask him those kinds of questions. He’s a man of many hyperfixations but they’re lasting. Have you seen him with his favorite series or Ruri-chan? This man is dedication personified. He’s already added you to his list of hyperfixations and, okay, maybe he does idealize you a little but he’s not as deluded as you think. He knows you have weird, messy bits of you - just like him - and he loves that so much about you because he’s able to actually be comfortable with you. He loves you and trusts you and respects you, which is more than he can say about anyone else in his life, and he is going to be your simp long after the series finale and he only hopes you’ll agree to let him stay in your life and worship you the way he knows you deserve.
Satan: That line of questioning makes him angry, shocking. He hates that you’re doubting him and his feelings. Satan is the intellectual of his brothers (if you ask him). He’s smart enough to know that there’s a difference between lust vsinfatuation vs love, and he’s considered it for a long time before he came forward with his feelings. He knows they’re genuine and lasting; he even avoided you in the beginning to avoid catching those kinds of feelings but it happened. Satan knows maybe he can romanticize things a little, like in the romance novels that he secretly loves, but he doesn’t think it’s to an unhealthy or unrealistic level - no more than a general man in love might do. He’ll sit and discuss all of this with you for as long as necessary, reigning in that anger that stems from feeling rejected, until you finally realize that he’s genuinely in love with you.
Asmo: Okay, so Asmo gets it, you know? He’s most beautiful being in three realms and charming and funny and sweet and basically everything good wrapped into one wonderful, sparkly, good smelling package. It would make sense that any human he pursued felt a little insecure about his feelings and their worthiness. But like…it’s you! You’ve seen Asmo at his worst - the days when he’s not as beautiful or kind, when he’s selfish and cruel and narcissistic - and you’ve stuck by his side the whole time. He is going to do the same for you. He sees your inner (and outer) beauty every time he looks at you and he falls a bit more in love with you every time. He knows what lust and infatuation feels like - he feels those every day and has them reflected right back at him tenfold. You are not those things. There’s still the passion and longing and affection but it’s so much warmer and steadier, like the warm sun that Asmo used to see in the human realm. You make him better (a hard task considering how close to perfection he is) and he won’t stand for you having any kind of doubts. He’s going to love you into loving yourself until you’re unable to doubt him or your relationship ever again.
Beel: That’s…not unfair to ask him. Beel may not be the smartest brother but he’s not as stupid as others make him out to be. He is the only brother who is going to hear you out and actually take the time to think about what you’re saying. You are the first human he’s ever had these kinds of feelings for, the first person actually. Beel is not used to romance at all and so he really needs to think about the line between romantic and platonic and familial; he doesn’t want to mess up the relationship by defining it incorrectly and breaking both of your hearts in the process. He doesn’t agree that you’re not good enough or interesting enough to inspire those kinds of feelings in him; he thinks you’re the most wonderful being he’s ever come across and anyone would be lucky to know you, let alone be loved by you like he is. It doesn’t take him too long to come the conclusion that no, he is in love with you. He would choose you over food or sports or even some of his brothers; hefeels empty without you in a way that even Belphie can’t compare to. He wants to kiss you and hold you and keep you around forever to share in his food and laughs and affection. Once Beel makes his decision, it’s completely solidified. Beel is a ride or die kind of man and you know you’ll never have to doubt him once he tells you he loves you.
Belphie: Belphie is torn. He understands why you may question his love for you. He did betray you and literally kill you in another universe; he would be more concerned if you weren’t skeptical about him. However, you feeling not good enough? Absolutely absurd. You need therapy ASAP. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to him and his family, even if you are a human. He never wanted these feelings; he loathed you at first but, over the months and different experiences you’ve shared, those feelings have grown to respect and trust and love. He couldn’t stop himself from loving you even if he tried (and he’s tried). He can understand your nerves but he knows down to his very soul that he loves you and that he will always love you. If you can’t accept his feelings, he’ll be the most accepting of it, especially because he doesn’t think he deserves you at all but he will never back down from his claims and he will continue expressing his love for you until the very end.
Diavolo: Of them all, Diavolo most understands why you may doubt the longevity of this relationship. He’s the demon lord. He’s the top choice of the realm, and everyone is scrutinizing him and his choices. He gets why you might be afraid of that and what comes with it. However, he wouldn’t be choosing you if he hadn’t thought long and hard about it to make sure his feelings for you withstood all of those doubts and fears. Diavolo does not lovely easily or lightly; he’s been offered companionship from more people than he could ever care to count but he’s never seriously considered any of them. You are the first and only person to have made him fall so completely head over heels in love that he’s able to get out of his own head which is so often filled with those some kinds of doubts and questions. He may not make every decision in his life with 100% confidence but this is one that he feels so sure of that he’s willing to stake his entire future and reputation on it. He loves you and he will do everything in his power to prove that he loves you and will stay by your side as you both rule the Devildom together, putting you at the top with him - exactly where you belong.
Barbatos: Barbatos is efficient, if nothing else in the world. Do you really think that he would pursue you if he wasn’t completely sure of his feelings and your future together? This is the man who has spent his entire life dedicated to Diavolo; he’s turned away from every and any meager temptation that’s come his way. No one has ever caught his eye like you have and certainly no one has ever made him question where his loyalty lays. Of course he is still Lord Diavolo’s servant and he serves the Devildom to the best of his ability but his heart isn’t in it the same way and that’s because he’s given it to you. You are what consumes his every thought and feeling; he’s broken the rules and used his powers for you, he’s gone against Diavolo for you, he is willing to do anything so long as he can be near you and make you happy. You don’t even have to accept his love or love him back, if you really can’t or won’t, but he’s seen you in every timeline and loves you in all of them. Nothing in this world or any of the others will change that and, if you give him the opportunity, he will dedicate his every moment to proving to you why you can put your full faith in him. After all, Barbatos has never failed at an assignment before.
Solomon: Solomon can understand insecurity on your end. It’s hard to consider yourself special enough to last for someone who has seen everything. Solomon has lived thousands of years, visited the three realms, love and lost time and time again. It’s hard to imagine that you’re anything more than the next shiny toy he’s got his eye on. For someone who can never die, what is this love other than a small blip on his radar one day? Solomon can’t stop you from feeling that way because, in a way, it’s true. You can’t be a permanent fixture in his life because you’re human but he can certainly be one in your life. Solomon would argue that he’s seen so many people and places over the millenia and he has lived long enough to know himself completely, and he knows that he loves you. He knows that no matter what happens or changes, his feelings for you will never waver. He will carry his love for you until the ends of time itself. It’s his curse to bear and the only thing that would make it bearable is being able to love you directly for as long as he’s given the chance.
Simeon: Simeon is the most patient and sympathetic as you ask him these questions. He would never invalidate your fears but he will confront them with you and break them down and banish them. Simeon is an angel who has watched over humanity for as long as they’ve been around. He has seen the best of the best and the worst of worst and still he’s never been tempted to turn away from his Father for one. At first, he could have explained it as curiosity and then fondness but it blossomed into the deep, unwavering love that he feels for you now. He sees your flaws and humanity and loves you all the more for it. You have become the new object of his worship and affection; he would fall from grace if it meant being able to hold you in his arms and shower you in the love he so truly believes you deserve. He will remind you every day of why you deserve to be happy and loved; he will tell you everything he loves about you from your smile to your kind heart to your most selfish desires. So, please, just put the same faith in him and his feelings that he puts in you and let him love you.
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woahiwrite · 11 months
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I like your writing so far ! Wish you good continuation ! Can I ask for how would Bi-han confess his love and how eventually ask for marriage? Thank u ❤
Bi-Han Confession/Asking for Marriage HCs
Warnings: None that I can think of, went on autopilot and wrote a lot, Gender Neutral Reader!
Hello Anon, thanks for enjoying my writing! Hope you have a good day/night ❤.
▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎
• Bi-Han seems like the type of guy to me to not really pursue love unless it was already arranged, he just has too much on his plate
• Especially the closer you get towards the actual story, between wanting the Lin Kuei to get more powerful and the more personal stuff he's got clinging to him, he is not really worried about love from anybody, just loyalty
• But I will try my best to do something different, perhaps the childhood friend route?
• Bi-Han simply won't immediately fall head over heels, he feels like he'd just be really confused with how to handle his feelings
• Once he realizes he is starting to feel...different, around you, he might start off giving a cold shoulder, only interacting with you just so he can make sure that you're alright
• Kuai Liang and Tomas realize this quite quickly
• Honestly you should thank Kuai Liang because he often was the one to encourage Bi-Han to actually put some effort into pursuing you
▪︎ "You shouldn't always turn them away, brother. A strong marriage would benefit both you and the Lin Kuei."
• Like Bi-Han didn't know that
• But marriage, the both of you? Impossible
• Real talk, the big reason for the disconnect was that he didn't know what he was supposed to do
• He didn't want to hurt you, or completely turn you away from him, so he just decided not interacting was the best option
• A neutral ground, so to speak
• Honestly, Bi-Han thought it would continue like this for the rest of time, the thought exhausted him
• Like he wasn't the main reason for his own exhaustion
• He couldn't even tell if he really liked you or not
• At least he couldn't until he had gone on a mission that had gone out of hand, being gone from the compound for a little over a month without communication
• He didn't realize it at first, but whenever he had a moment to think, all he could think about was you
• And all he could recall was your more solemn expressions when around him, because what did he give you lately that was worth smiling about?
• Even like that, though, even saddened by the situation with your friendship, Bi-Han found himself thinking you were beautiful
• You held yourself as he thought you should, you knew your strengths, knew your weaknesses, and you were loyal
• Even as Bi-Han gave you nothing to work with, nothing to look forward to, you remained by his side, always greeting him when he returned from missions and always there to wish him farewell when he was to leave
• Those thoughts were what drove him to think, maybe I should put more effort into this
• When he finally returns, he is almost shocked to see how genuinely shaken you looked
• How your hands fail to remain steady as you clasp them together, your eyes running over his form searching for any injury that might be causing him serious harm
• His brother waited diligently by your side, and Bi-Han doesn't miss the way Kuai Liang also seems to relax upon seeing him
• Bi-Han didn't suffer anything serious, but he still requests
▪︎"Join me at the healers?"
• You don't decline
• The check-up was quick, and Bi-Han could see how much steadier you are after seeing that he really was unharmed
• You think maybe you've overstayed your time with him, but Bi-Han doesn't seem to want you to leave his side
▪︎ "Accompany me to check in with everything?"
▪︎ "Watch over the new recruits with me?"
▪︎ "Join me for a walk?"
• It wasn't for a little while longer, but Bi-Han finally got the feeling that he could confess his love for you
• You smiled more often around him, you opened up to him, and you only got more beautiful than you already had been to him. Like a flower that had bloomed to grace his drab world with color
• The confession would happen on a walk
• He'd stop and softly call your name, drawing your attention to him
▪︎ "Bi-Han, what's wrong?"
▪︎ "I haven't been the friend I should be. I found that, that is because I want to be more."
• You are clearly confused, if the furrow of your brows and slight squint didn't say enough
• Bi-Han almost grows nervous, but instead he reaches forward to take your hands into his
▪︎ "I turned you away because I couldn't understand my own feelings. I like you, more than just a friend."
• Your silence nearly kills him, but at least you didn't look confused anymore
• He could feel himself growing tense as he looked at you, awaiting your response with bated breath
▪︎ "I had thought you hated me."
▪︎ "Obviously you know now that that is not the case."
▪︎ "Yes, obviously."
• You smile at him, not turned away by his bluntness, and Bi-Han felt himself relax
▪︎ "Well, I like you too."
• Things are easier after that
• Bi-Han doesn't openly show his affection for you, but it is easy to notice he isn't going out of his way to avoid contact either
• He just isn't one to make his love life public
• Go on walks with him, he might hold your hand, but more likely he'll walk so close to you that your arms brush together with every step
• He'll spar with you, not just to spend time with you whilst also being productive but so that he knows you can protect yourself
• Marriage crosses his mind faster than he had been able to come to terms with his feelings
• He trusted you, after all
• You had been friends with him your whole lives, even when he had began to turn you away you didn't leave his side
• Don't get me wrong, though, it still took him a bit to ask for your hand in marriage
• Like, three to four years
• He was just so busy, especially since, during that time, he had been given even more responsibilities
• The tournament was drawing near, the candidates would need to be recruited soon
• That meant the Lin Kuei had to train even harder in preparation to defend from a possible Outworld attack if Earthrealm were to lose
• Still, he found time for you
• Despite not being wed, it was often you shared his bed, not for anything explicit in nature, but because he found comfort being beside you
• Especially during such a stressful time
• He would probably confess during the night, after a long day of Grandmaster duties
• Nothing fancy would be set up, it would just be he and you enjoying tea you had made to help him relax
• It would be silent, save for the sounds of nature and the clink of the tea cups against the table
• I don't see Bi-Han as one to make some long speech, like, I really think he's more of a 'show don't tell' kind of person
• (He's not the best with words I'm living by this)
• So it'd come out of almost nowhere when he just
▪︎ "Will you be by my side forever?"
▪︎ "Of course."
▪︎ "Then, would you allow me to have your hand in marriage?"
• Very simple
• But he's trying his best
• He makes sure his voice sounds softer when he asks, just to show that
• He may not say it often himself, but Bi-Han really, truly does love you
• It shows in everything he does
• He'll hold you close when you sleep, protecting you from the dangers of the world around you
• You won't be left without a kiss on the head before he leaves in the morning, or before he falls asleep at night
• Calls you "my wife"/ "my husband"/ "beloved"
• You are the reason he finds himself being less irritable earlier in the day
• When this man loves he loves with his whole self, he will not do wrong by you
• That, you are always sure of
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blackbackedjackal · 2 months
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Honestly, like, about the June sillhouette thing. This should have been a sign that either they would have to go without that "genre staple" to respect your story and what it was trying to say, or your stories just weren't compatible at all and crossing them over wouldn't work. But I guess that would require Dogblud giving a single inch of control and we can't have that, can we? For what it's worth, I think your idea is brilliant and it speaks to me as a biracial person!
As pointed out by a friend, Dog would never want to give an ounce of control when it came to her story or ideas because the bottom line is that control is what she wanted. The weird thing was we had spoken in length about how June differed from the other werewolves in our plot and had verbally agreed to it, only to then have her and Ependa come back with that nonsense.
There's a very different way to go about the traditional stylistic way werewolves are drawn in comics and other media, verses how I personally portray June.
This is a style:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
This is a design:
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June is consistent throughout her drawings as a Gev Lycan and her design is made with intent. It's based on the traditional comic book style as well as other influences like the Heartless from KH, Were-Fox from Gargoyles, and the brain grain concept from We're Back a Dinosaur's Story. The form was given meaning because I wanted to explain why she had multiple forms (it's related to her mental/emotional state while transformed, as as you can tell she's not doing so hot). I wanted to give the form a narrative meaning to enrich her story so Dog and Ependa implying it was just a stylistic choice and not intentional was rude at best and malicious at worse. They KNEW this was a narrative representation of Black trauma and Dog still chose to argue that it was just a stylistic choice she could copy and imitate.
The bottom line is I was the Art Director for the collaboration (and obvs the Black cultural consultant on the team), and what I said was what had to happen. Drawing the other werewolves like that (none of which were Black to begin with) would have been confusing/inconsistent at best and offensive at worse. Dog refusing to understand that was incredibly frustrating and the more I though about it the more racist it came off to me. Because she knew from the beginning and STILL persisted.
And thank you! I'm biracial as well (and so is June), and when coming up with Strawberry Moon I knew I wanted it to be a uniquely Black story. There's hardly any Black representation in the werewolf genre, let alone anything that has more cultural or historical meaning behind it. I did a lot of research to make it something that could only exist though June's perspective as an older Black queer transwoman, so having Dog try to belittle my work was just disheartening. I opened up a lot to explain June's story to them, and Dog only saw her as an extension of her fetish.
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aesterblaster · 7 months
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Bad Dogs Can Learn New Tricks
Which Blue Lock Characters Have Gone To Therapy, In My Humble Opinion. (+ Who Desperately Needs To But Hasn't + Who Might In The Future)
Warnings: Some spoilers for way past the U-20 Arc, also not an extensive list of characters, honestly kind of funny. I wasn't trying to be TOO serious
Songs: Falling Behind / Laufey , The Main Character / Will Wood , Nothing's New / Rio Romeo
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Has Gone To Therapy And Loves Their Therapist Gang
-Anri, There is no way she is able to have that much patience and take that much shit from corporate without having a therapist. I think she uses like 1/5th of her paycheck on books about improving your life and stuff like that LMAO. Her therapist is also a woman so it helps her to have someone who understands her frustrations with not really getting credit despite being one of the founders of Blue Lock. Also sometimes she gets worried she's unethical towards the boys so that weighs on her.
-Kenyu, Look it's still in progress ok? He was just starting before he came to Blue Lock. Once he realized he was going to lose his vision he started working with a professional and found it really helpful. In fact they were the one who encouraged him to go after Blue Lock in the first place. One of the reasons he was so quick to say sorry to Isagi is because he has those #coping skills.
-Gagumaru, After having a run in with a bear in the woods he kept having nightmares and his parents made him go to therapy. Well it was kindddd of therapy..it was a hippie who's a family friend. That doesn't mean he doesn't know grounding techniques. He even taught Naruhaya how to calm down from a panic attack once. But yeah, he doesn't really tell people that he went to therapy
-Snuffy, After his best friend's death he went to therapy ASAP. The type to only call his therapist once every 5 months and still have a rock solid relationship with them. His therapist helped him break his womanizing habit and realize that he's enough all on his own. 100% did some soul searching and stepped away from the scene. He also combined the therapist with a personal trainer to really max out his healing process. 100/10 dude for it.
"I Have Gone To Therapy And It Didn't Work" Crew
-Chigiri, Similar to Kenyu, his parents thought he might need some mental health help after the trauma of thinking he'd never be an athlete again. But he was one of those cold shoulder my mom is forcing me to do this cases. He never actually worked through what he might do if this whole thing falls through. Also snarkiness 100, his therapist almost quit because he was so insulting to them. Chigiri just felt ashamed that his parents even thought he should go in the first place and convinced his sister to also beg them to stop taking him lmao.
-Isagi, Okay at some point his parents realize he takes faliure wayyy too hard and tried to get him in therapy. When he talked to the therapist though the dude was like "Yeah, he's just competitive. Nothing wrong here." Alas, he's been masking for so long that he's incapable of revealing his issues to anyone who hasn't known him for 3 years or plays sports with him. Also, he convinced himself he doesn't need it and then idly imagines just going apeshit and killing his enemies to cope with stress...like bro...
-Noa, Why do you think he gets along with Isagi? All jokes aside, his PR people probably asked him to do it and he went and then secretly never went back. It honestly didn't work because he wasn't willing to give it a chance. And still isn't!!!! Would rather backflip off of a yacht than tell someone in a lounge chair about how growing up in intense poverty still haunts him sometimes, makes him question his worth and avoid conflict in day to day life. Sometimes he wonders if one day he'll wake up and find out it was all a dream....But nah he doesn't need therapy!
-Oliver, He was soooo close to actually getting his mental health in check but then his therapist retired. After that he got another really seasoned one and saw the amount of case files in his desk and just felt like a straight up burden. One of those "other people have it worse" and "it is what it is" guys. He's very open about his emotions and feelings so he just talks to his friends when he's really struggling. (Even though Sendou never says the right things-) Like yeah it's their job but why bug these nice people when sex?? Why talk about issues in sessions when he can get drunk or go train for 4 hours??? Riddle him that?
The "I Need Therapy And I Know It" Team
-Ness, He has so many fucking issues. Honestly, despite his devout worship of Kaiser he does realize that his behavior isn't quite healthy or normal. Dude tries to show you a funny video on his phone and all of his ads are for Betterhelp. Genuinely trying to figure out a diagnosis. Yes he has looked up all sorts of personality disorders and no he doesn't think he has any of them (He has at least two). But again, Ness is self aware enough to know that some help or someone to talk to who sees him as an actual human being would be nice.
-Niko, He cannonicaly describes himself as very very introverted and nerdy, also he hides his face. Tell me you were bullied in school or at least had an extremely traumatizing incident without telling me. Kind of never had anyone, just people who hung around because of his soccer skill or avoided him like the plague. He is that guy who will rant about "society" online for hours and fantasize about moving to a different country thinking he'd get better treatment there. Cripplingly lonely and self conscious at the end of the day, in all honesty. Also he genuinely wants a therapist but just can't afford one.
-Hiori, Obviously his parents are the ones who stop him. He tries to go and his mom realizes where he's making her drive him and swerves off. Even when he gets his license, you just know they're tracking everywhere he goes. He doesn't have enough privacy to really get better like that, Hiori has to wait until he moves out. Still genuinely fucked up by the fact that Gagumaru has gotten therapy and he hasn't. Just listens to emo music and plays video games and pretends that that fixes everything. He's totally releasing a top-selling book about his horrible childhood after Blue Lock.
-Bachira, Is he outgoing and silly? Yes. Does he need better coping skills? Also yes. Men will tell you the most horrible and traumatizing childhood memories about getting jumped and then laugh it off, and it's him, Bachira is men. He ties to brush off his trauma with humor but it never really works. He knows that he genuinely needs to talk to someone other than Isagi or his mom about the Monster and how it was by his side for so long. But also never goes through with getting professional help, just thinks about it sometimes.
The "What's Therapy? Fuck You!" Group
-Kaiser, Oh god, don't even suggest it to him. I headcannon that mental illness kind of runs in his family. He's watched family members be taken away for being too out there and openly mentally ill so he has a reason to not trust doctors. Just associates therapy and things like it with abusive institutions. If he told a therapist all of his issues, he'd probably be sent to a psyche ward. Just the threat of being sent there single handedly kept him from killing himself or talking about his feelings when he was younger. He will continue to just be slightly abusive to the people around him thank you very much.
-Ego, Bro's got the government banning him from soccer and you think he's thinking of therapy? When Anri tells him he needs it offhand, he's like, revenge is my therapy. Insane as fuck but thinks that it's a good thing. He is not willing to talk about his issues to anyone, but especially not someone who will write it all down. Genuinely ruined a few relationships in his past because the main people he attracts are the "I Can Fix Him" people and it just never works. Suprisingly unself aware for how much he analyzes others.
-Barou, His main issue is just shame and failed gifted kid syndrome. But as soon as he's back up he's convinced he doesn't need help. Barou suffers from really high highs and really low lows but he also has the mental fortitude to handle it. He is a well adjusted and kind enough person outside of the soccer field so he never considers that he needs therapy. When he feels bad about himself he hits the gym but he's never really opened up to anyone and he sure isn't going to start once he gets more famous. Especially when he's seen as one of the best right now, can't risk his reputation.
-Rin, He's would rather gut himself with a sword than admit that his mental illness doesn't make him a cool loner wolf and just a lonely person who hasn't healed his inner child. Kind of just wants someone to baby him and tell him everything's going to be alright but in the mean time his barriers are up 24/7. He disdains therapy, thinks that he'd just be seen as a pay check and he kind of isn't wrong. Rin would rather pay money for expensive cleats than spend it for someone to suggest him breathing exercises. He also had a traumacore phase, but he'd rather not talk about it.
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tubbytarchia · 23 days
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We should support artists and help them recognize their worth but I'm honestly so tired of "Your colored and shaded art is worth more than 10 bucks" and "these prices are too low" etc. Kind of maddening to me that it's treated like a choice when most artists will never have the reach to charge "fairly" for their art on a consistent basis. This isn't a jab at anyone because most people saying this are well meaning and maybe accidentally tonedeaf at worst, but the only choice some people have is either earn a little bit of money or earn no money at all. Idk surely there's other ways to be supportive or tell someone that their art is worthwhile without insisting that they raise their prices. Where and what is the advice once the prices ARE raised as suggested and yet no money is made? Would the advice be to put prices back down? To just be persistent and be better at advertising yourself?
When I started out, I tried to price "fairly", with and without advice from fellow artists (who all suggested prices that never sold) and then just decreased those prices like 5 times because no one would commission me. I wasn't upset when an anon told me "I was surprised to see the prices!", but I am upset about all the "these prices seem too low..." I got years ago in retrospect. When I voiced that I couldn't charge any higher because otherwise I wouldn't get paid, I was often dismissed. And I couldn't help but note that by all the people who got commissioned at least regularly with good pay
I'm not personally too upset about my own commissioning situation anymore, I used to be, but after so many mental breakdowns of trying to earn any money that justified the time I spent on my art and failing miserably, I accepted that it just isn't even for me. (This is why I wouldn't ever want to work with a CC either lol I would kms. As a one-off maybe). I still offer it but with a lot of leniency towards myself, which I think warrants lower pricing and I'm not upset about it. Because who would've guessed, that doing a hobby you love as a line of work with inherent new pressures isn't always going to make you happy and can ruin the hobby for you instead! Wild.
My personal commission meltdown journey under cut, because I want to and I think it'll make me feel better
My awesome commission meltdown happened about a year ago, but boy I have been trudging for awhile. Maybe 5 or 6 years ago now, I used to have a friend, my former best friend, who struck gold. They got lucky. Their art was also fantastic, but ultimately they got lucky, because good art in itself never guarantees that you can earn buck from it. They created a closed species that quickly became very popular to the point that they could draw one design on a whim and easily get 50EUR minimum out of it. That's not even commission work, to get paid well for art that YOU want to make is an absolute dream but even less reliable for most artists than commission work. I created multiple species too with like 0.20EUR prices and followed all the advice my friend gave me. I advertised myself like hell which is something I've continued to do until a year ago with a 100% failure rate. For funsies, some specimens of the species I attempted to sell (I very much detached from my usual preferred monster designs too to try and have wider appeal and gimmicks)
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(If anyone wants to "adopt" any Rosebuds (1st rose-like species) or Dumlins (2nd bird-like species) for free then you're very welcome to, I can send the full sheets lol. Only one of them ever got adopted. I'm over it but hey just in case there are any adoptable fanatics in here)
After a few years I think I gave up, didn't earn a dollar with any of them and moved over to commissions because that's way easier to get money for anyway, I thought. And I've done many commissions by now but with most costing 5-20EUR. Very few outliers got any tips (usually from friends) and very few people were willing to pay more to begin with. I think I've done just 2 artwork that I was paid 50 for and those are the only comms I've done above 20EUR, and I count myself very lucky for ever even getting that opportunity. Here's some examples of commissions I've done for 20 bucks or less
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(To be clear, I'm not upset about any of these. Jk lol I'm forever bothered by one of them. The 1st one but I will spare the details)
I tried so desperately to advertise myself on Twitter, on Tumblr, on DA, on Reddit, on Discord servers... in the end I got like one commission that wasn't just from a friend or acquaintance , and I'm willing to bet at least a few "friend" commissions I've done were out of pity, and I wouldn't blame them because I was a desperate little teenager. I went through a whole furry arc where I went out of my way to draw furry art because everyone knows furries got the money. I was very open to nsfw art too for very low prices to help me build my portfolio further, and I was again full-throttle advertising every which way I knew how, trying to reach out there, and gained nothing for it
Meanwhile, I just felt like doing this little animation. This wretched thing. This fucking. This little piece of work that came from a place of love and now I want to cry thinking about what this thing did to me
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This is a niche Yugioh monster that I animated dancing. Somehow, it got out of the Yugioh circle and popped the fuck off majorly on twitter. Nobody knew what the hell this thing is but they liked it. This shit got reposted on Tiktok, on Reddit, probably many other sites too with zero credit back to me, naturally, with hundreds of thousands of views, possibly millions, I would check if I could still find any of them. So that sucked but guess what else happened? Like 5 people DMed me about commissioning animation work from me. TO THIS DAY despite my twitter being now deleted, people every so often reach out to me about this. And because there was DEMAND I figured, I can ask fair prices. But I'd never been able to before so I still undersold myself A LOT. Fully fledged animation is hard goddamn work. But I accepted 3 commissions, and I made progress on all of them, and then I deleted my twitter. I left all of those people in the dark (I never took any of their money though!!! I never ask for money until my work is completed unless you buy through Kofi)
I just realized how fucking miserable it all made me and how much I didn't want to do this and what a piss poor motivator money is for me to do art for, in the comfort of my home. I love money, I sure would love to have more of it and not have to rely on minimum wage jobs that I dislike but god, all of that made me so deeply upset and with all those years of failure, I suddenly struck gold like my friend had all those years back, and I had so many people wanting to give me money for my work, and it felt like a fucking joke. I was honestly just so peeved and pissed off that this is what it took, and had a meltdown over it and I was also just in the worst place of my life at the time that I've never truly recovered from. All of this just added to how much I wished to be eaten by a wild animal on a daily basis at the time
I don't feel like I got ANYTHING out of all that. The money I got absolutely didn't justify the effort and time I put into commissions and all my self advertising and portfolio building ventures were a waste of time too. The only thing I've taken away from it is that I don't want to repeat that and I will probably never want to work a job doing art or animation even if it could pay more than minimum wage crap. My former friend has a successful Patreon, I've encountered dubs of their comics with millions of views on various platforms, their species even got ripped off by someone who just turned their species nsfw, lol. And I draw minecraft men kissing
I'm not happy but I'm not upset about it anymore, even if I still get majorly peeved by some artists who underplay their immense success whilst others are begging for crumbs. (Again they usually mean well but sometimes I do find these people genuinely dislikeable. Anyway). In a perfect world, artists wouldn't have to work their asses of to get grocery money and be so reliant on luck to pop off once and then never have to worry about it again. I'm sad this is what it took for me to realize it's not even for me, after all these years of negligible profit, and I'm sad I was ever led to believe that getting fair pay was possible without all the work I put into trying to get my art out there, only to eventually succeed via pure luck and then not earning a penny from it anyway. Please support and continue to support small artists. If you can, please tip them too. Share and support their work in other ways if you can't or don't want to pay!
With all that said though, I appreciate anyone who has commissioned me during my time in the MCYT fandom, that means so much to me that you like my art that much. And I'm really sorry for the few people I ended up refunding because I didn't feel up to their requests - that's what I mean by the leniency I give myself. If it ever comes close to stressing me out again, I'll just give it up in favor of my mental health haha. And I hope you guys understand. Thank you as well for anyone who's bought my MCYT merch, you are so awesome and I'm actually omw to earning some profit from it eventually which has made me happier than any other art related work I've done
and with THAT said, man NONE of you have used discounts that I've hidden in my text posts previously..!! I reinforce though that regardless, I'm open to haggling if you're tighter on money but want to get a little something. I love you regardless though and thanks for listening to my shit ted talk
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richarlotte · 1 month
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Heauxing Tips?
Here’s what I believe.
In regards to PPM and the discussion I see around here, let me give you my opinion. If you’re accepting less than $600 in MCOL areas, you’re being taken advantage of (robbed BLIND) and setting your standards way too low. You’re also making it difficult for others, whether that be inadvertently or not. You, as the provider, set the number and stick to it. If a man is worth your while, he will give you what you want, pay it to you gladly, and keep his complaints to himself.
 
I honestly believe that if you aren’t actively looking for opportunities, you won’t find them. I love looking at lists of events and places to go, but I also know that women aren’t actually meeting single, very wealthy, or established men at these events. You should obviously go to things and be seen outside, but you can’t go to event after event looking for a man. It becomes weird, people will notice, and there’s nothing wrong with relaxing and enjoying your life without looking for a mark. You won’t meet him at a country club, don’t try.
 
If you are a black woman, do not listen to advice telling you to freestyle in groups. I’m going to just outright say it so what I say won’t be mistaken for anything else. The only white men that will approach a large group of black women are the police. I also don’t believe in the concept of freestyling with a group. I’ve done it with a single friend before, and we had dinner and drinks fully paid for, but it’s honestly not worth coordinating, going out, and expecting to hit it big. Groups draw eyes, and you don’t want eyes or law enforcement on your back.
 
You have to have a genuinely high opinion of yourself to survive sugaring, escorting, heauxing, or whatever you want to call it. If you look at the suicide rates in any industry where sex sells, you’ll immediately see that the suicide rate is higher than normal. You literally have to be level headed and know when to step away to survive. On the same note, if you have no concept of personal safety, then you need to not do this. The police will not take you seriously, and they don’t take most women seriously in general. Men are aggressive, and the tables can turn very quickly in this lifestyle.
 
You have to fit the role and look the part. Are there men out there in the world who’d hire plus-size providers? Sure. Are they few and far between? Absolutely. There is a look that is desired in every city, but most men are going to want top-of-the-line, clean, well spoken, and presentable providers who know how to maintain a certain level of discretion and do well in professional settings. There is a standard of beauty, and to be one of the women who’s always doing well, you have to fit that standard and curate an exclusive client list (yes, that means turning plenty of people down and not taking on more than you can handle).
 
If you don’t keep a low profile, you will get screwed over. I have friends who’ve gotten arrested in major cities; I know girls who are denied entry to the USA and other countries; I know women who’ve had their homes raided; and the forums for serious sex workers are always alight with some sort of drama. If you don’t keep your head down, keep your client list small, and avoid any unnecessary conflict, then I guarantee you’ll get caught up in something that will waste your time. You also have to hold yourself accountable for your own fuckups because, I swear, there are too many instances where I’ve seen someone do something seriously illegal that they knew not to do.
 
If you were serious, you’d go out of your way to access the review sites and see what the serious providers are doing. I’m sorry, but I get so tired of reading accounts from “sugar babies” on Tumblr who don’t know what the forums are, don’t know why high class clients ask about reviews, don’t understand Tryst, and don’t understand the importance of having a photographer and a website. Basic level research and a tiny bit of time spent on Reddit would get you up to speed; learning the etiquette is easy enough, and people would take you seriously instead of making assumptions. It’s nearly impossible to build an exclusive base without this knowledge, and I’d recommend having it so that you’re aware of things.
And remember, if she was dating a senator, she wouldn’t be on Tumblr.
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