#I just want to talk about my OCs and get ask about them without begging(?) for it---
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SO---
I was thinking about something, and you'll probably hate me for it, but... I really, really, REALLY want to talk about My OCs, but I NEVER know where to start. And I'dLOVE to get questions about them so I could answer, but bc I rarely post ANY kind of context about them, I bet it's hard for u guys to try to ask me shit.
So, I thought, that maybe I could make a Blog about them, where I could keep all the info and stuff about them there so it doesn't get lost with the shit I post here (And you could also ask me or THEM stuff about them there more easily!!)... But that only means that I would get to create ANOTHER fcking Blog, and if u know me, I already have like... 10(¿?
SO TO MAKE THIS SHORT---
I'll give this poll just a day... If I don't get any kind of anser, I'll probably do nothing... Unless my poor impulse control does its thing----
#Gir Says#This is a long fcking post#wtf#Long Post#Pls help me#I have 0 control#AaaAaaAaaAaAAa#/cry#I just want to talk about my OCs and get ask about them without begging(?) for it---#It makes me feel egocentric#And annoying#I might delete these tags later tho#;;;;;#Poll#NobodyCares
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Heyy sooo I was thinking “I love you but right now I just need you to bend over and take it” with George and reader! Maybe George has a breeding kink and after seeing her with his family kids over the holiday he really wants to get her pregnant?? Maybe boat sex since they were all on a boat?? 😅
This was the last straw for George. Seeing you interact with his nieces and nephews during family gatherings was bad enough, but the way you were now taking care of them during summer vacation as if they were your own was igniting a perverse hunger within George, and he was determined to do something about it.
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Warnings: Smut, panty gag, boat sex, specifically yacht sex, semi-public sex?, idk if benjy has a son, oc if not, dirty talk, breeding kink, george just being feral tbh, no prep, bad etiquette, but no pain bc this is fiction. Perhaps an intervention is in order? Idk
Requested from my prompt list
It came to a head when you were cooking on the yacht for his nephew.
That day it was just you, George, his brother Benjy, and benjy's son. The rest of the family had decided to stay firmly on land for the day.
The little guy was hungry and you had volunteered to make a plate of his favorite pasta, leaving him up on the deck with his father.
George was sat behind you watching you work, whipping up a quick sauce and waiting for the water to boil.
It drove George nuts how attentive you were to his family members’ needs and how well you had integrated into the family.
And seeing you look after kids was the cherry on top, and made him think more and more about starting a family of his own.
The two of you had agreed though, no kids as long as George was an f1 driver. You didn't want to put that kind of strain on your family, and if something were to happen to him you didn't want your kid growing up without a father.
But the two of you had needs, and condoms were a bit of a hassle when you have sex as much as you two did, so you got an implant. In theory it was impossible to get you pregnant.
That wasn't going to stop George from giving it a bloody good go, though.
“How long is the pasta supposed to take?” he asked as you poured it in to the boiling water.
“About six minutes?” you replied “why?”
You hadn't noticed him set an alarm, then sneak up behind you until his hands were wrapped around your waist and he lifted you up and away from the stove.
“Good, plenty of time for me to fill you up” he growled into your ear as you squealed and writhed in his hold.
“George-!”
He pushed you down onto the table and made quick work of your shorts and underwear, dragging them down you legs and stuffing your panties in you mouth. “I love you but right now I just need you to bend over and take it”
You tried to protest through the cotton but it was no use, he grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back.
“Can't have the kid hearing what we're doing down here. What kind of parents would that make us?”
You moaned as he slid his tip over your quickly dampening folds. “Don't have time to prep you, baby. Think you can take me just like this?”
You shuddered and moaned through the fabric and he chuckled.
“Of course you can take me. You can take everything I give you because you're such a good girl, aren't you?”
George’s praise never failed to make you melt, and your body slumped over the table so that your legs wouldn’t have to take any weight.
He held you down as he slid inside you slowly, your back arching against his hold.
To say he was gentle would have been a lie. He was rough and demanding, but passionate, as he plastered himself over your back and bullied his cock deep into your tight heat.
“Going to come inside you, baby. Gonna fill you up until your dripping and begging me to stop.” He rasped in your ear as his hips sped up and his breathing got heavier. “God you have no idea how fucking feral it makes me seeing you with kids. Makes me want to breed you, force you to make me one of my own.”
Your walls fluttered around him and he chuckled darkly in your ear.
“You like that, darling? You want to be so full of me it makes you a mother?”
You gasped and nodded, and tried in vain to tell him you were close through the gag, but you didn't need to. George knew your body like the back of his hand and he could already feel you clenching rhythmically around him.
“Go on baby, come for me. Milk my cock, there you go. My perfect little cumslut”
You could feel your toes curl as the feeling of bliss took over your body and you pulled George over the edge with you, his hips slamming into you, trying to get his seed as deep as he could.
Just then the alarm rang on his phone for the pasta that was now ready.
“Perfect timing” George laughed as he pulled out and took your spit soaked panties out of your mouth to let you get on with the food.
“Indeed, can I have my underwear back please?” you asked, picking up your shorts and putting your hand out.
“Oh no, I'm not done with you yet, sweetheart” George just pocketed them, despite your protests, and smirked at you.
“Your implant is effective like 99% of the time, right?”
You narrowed your eyes at him
“-ish, why?”
“Because I'm going to beat the odds and fill you up a hundred times until it takes”
His logic was flawed, bless his heart, but you couldn't deny that the idea of him using you over and over again like an animal in heat sent a shiver down your spine, and your pussy clenched in protest.
“Now I'll take the food up, and when I come back I want you in the bedroom, ready to be filled up again.”
He quickly prepped the plate and disappeared up the steps, leaving you dripping down your legs and shocked at his words.
Maybe when this implant ran out, you were going think twice before replacing it…
#my thots#george russell smut#george thots#george russell#george russell x reader#f1#formula 1#gr63#ask#request
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Road Trip
Scott Miller x Fem!reader OC
Summary: Scott and Ellie are on their way to a much-needed vacation and Ellie decides to start out their time by being a brat. Warnings: MDNI 18+, dom/sub dynamic, fingering, edging, smut, size kink, brat taming, use of sir, smacking/spanking
This has been the longest drive of my life! I'm so restless in this seat. Scott's been driving the entire time and I knew this would be a fairly long ride but it still sucks. I've literally started squirming in my seat. "Baby," I hear the stern voice of my boyfriend beside me. I sigh and look at him seeing his stern face and without saying a word he tells me to stop moving. I huff at him, keeping eye contact, and move more just in spite. Without averting his eyes he smacks his hand hard down on my bare thigh. I wore a skirt for a reason but this wasn't it. "Ow Scott!" I yelp out and he raises one eyebrow before finally looking towards the road again. He keeps his hand there, squeezing just to remind me not to keep moving. I make an 'ugh' sound at him again just this time do it under my breath. I try and think of something I can do. I decide I will do everything I can to annoy him. Without asking I turn the radio on. He's a silent rider and I hate that.
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We've been riding this way for about 10 minutes and I'm bored again. "Sir, can we stop for snacks please?" He huffs at my whine and sharply says "We have snacks baby. You packed them so they should be things you like." I huff and he finally moves his hand from my leg but it's only to turn the radio off and now he's ruined all my fun. I pull my phone out and turn on a random video really loudly. He hates that the most. It doesn't take 5 minutes before he's huffing and rips my phone out of my hand. He turns it off and drops it in his door. "Ugh, Scott I can't have anything!" At this point, I just want to get out of the car. He sighs and brings his hand back to my leg. I go to push it off but he smacks my hand away and I cross my arms. I stare out the window and then feel him move his hand up my leg. I whip my head to him but he's straight-faced looking out the windshield. Leave it to him to know a way around my body without even having to look at it. I move slightly, opening my legs wider for him. His hand finally covers over my center. My panties were the only thing keeping him from fully touching my skin. He rubs his hand up and down but doesn't move my panties yet. I lift my hips up to meet his touch but he moves his hand back up my leg. I scoff and move without thinking. I slide my panties off and grab his hand moving it to rest over my pussy again. I swallow and keep my eyes on his hand. Thankfully he starts moving it and just watching turns me on even more. "Your hand is so big," I whisper and he moves his fingers up and starts rubbing sharp circles on my clit. "I know baby." His voice is an added thing to make me clench around nothing. "Keep talking" I plea at him. He chuckles and starts saying "You're such a pretty impatient girl." I whine and 'hmm' at him. "And because of that," He starts and then moves his hand away and puts it on his own leg. "You are still gonna be punished,"
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"Please sir, please" I'm begging him at this point. I'm so turned on by everything now and I just want him to make the aching stop. He sighs and I really think he's finally caved! He reaches his hand over and holds it out for me. I grab it with no hesitation and push it down. Once I feel his skin on mine I sigh. I swallow and move my hand as he takes over. He's rubbing circles on my clit and I toss my head back, moaning. I move my hips to meet his fingers and before I know it he's sliding one inside of me. I look down and just seeing his big thick finger going in and out of me makes me clench. "Sir, I'm close please go faster." He moves only a little quicker. I swallow hard and just as the ball starts to unwind in my tummy he moves his hand again. "NO! No, no, no!" He gives a slight chuckle and looks at me with a smirk on his face. "You don't get to come until I say so. I say I can edge you all the way to the next rest stop where I'll take you into a private bathroom and spank you and then you can come." I know this will be absolute torture for me but maybe I can come without him knowing. "Yes sir, please" He moves his hand back and pushes two fingers into me with ease. I moan out and just watch as his fingers go in and out. I start to clench again and he moves his fingers out and lightly places his huge hand over my center. I sigh and try and steady my breathing.
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It's been 20 minutes of constant edging. I've almost come 3 times and have gotten even closer but he always moves before it happens. He finally takes a turn and I see the sign "rest stop ahead" in front of me. "Oh thank god!" He laughs and says "I don't think I've ever seen you this excited for a spanking sweetheart." I whine and look out the window as his fingers move inside me for the millionth time. Right as the car stops I feel like I'm gonna fall over the edge again and he once again moves his hand to turn the car off. I unbuckle so fast and pull the skirt I had on down before ramming the door open. I stand there watching as Scott takes his sweet ass time getting out. Once he rounds the car I grab his hand and pull him toward the entrance. "Slow down baby," he says from behind me and when I do he pulls me into his chest and whispers "You wouldn't want people thinking I was gonna fuck you in there would you?" I whine and compose myself only slightly. We walk as quickly as possible without seeming in too much of a hurry. Once inside the family bathroom with the door locked I look at him impatiently. He sighs before getting down to business. He grabs me by my bicep and pushes me over the sink, lifting my skirt to see my bare ass. "Please hurry. I know I was a brat earlier but I took all the edging like a good girl." He sighs and in the mirror I see him smile down at me. "I know pretty girl. I'll keep that in mind." Right as the words come out of his mouth I feel his hand make contact with my ass. I whine and feel his hand make contact again rather quickly. This is how he's making up for the long drive. He isn't going to make me suffer for long. 13 spanks and barely 5 minutes later he's pulling me up from the sink. He spins me to face him and leans down to gently kiss me. "I'm sorry sir." He sighs at me and says "I know my pretty girl gets restless, and I know it's a long drive, but I'll try and keep you more entertained the rest of the way okay?"I smile and nod at him. "I love you, baby." I beam and say "I love you too."
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Once back in the car, we hit the road for the last stretch of our road trip. "You took your punishment so well so I'll give you the option. I can either make you come on my hand or you can wait until we get there and I'll fuck you like the brat you are." I know I might regret this later but I grab his hand and say "Fingering, please." He nods as if he knew I'd choose that one. He reaches across and pulls my skirt up and instantly finds my clits. I'm so wet it's not even funny. I know I'm gonna come so quick but I don't care. I look down at his massive hand and watch as he slowly sinks two fingers into me. I moan out and watch as they pump in and out of me. "Can I touch while you do this?" I don't have the best verbiage but he knows what I mean and says "Sure baby." As soon as those words leave his mouth I put my hand down and rub at my swollen clit while he still pumps his fingers in me. Hooking them every so often to find the one spot inside me that makes my eyes roll. I whine and look over at him. He's driving with one hand and is paying so much attention to the road that I wonder how he's doing both things so well. I feel the ball start to unwind and before I know it I'm falling over the edge that I dangled off of so many times earlier that day. I fall apart with his name on my lips and clench around his thick fingers. Once he's gotten me through it he pulls his fingers into his mouth and I'm wet all over again. "Because you've been such a good girl after everything," He pauses and I'm on the edge of my seat now. "I'll still fuck you when we get there." I squeal "Score!"
#18+ mdni#david corenswet#scott miller#scott twisters#scott miller smut#scott miller x reader#twisters 2024
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Potatoes and White Amaryllis
Day 9 of celebration marathon
Older!Grover underwood x Aphrodite!gn!reader
-ask: I read your rules so I was wondering if you asked Grover to like touch his little horns on his head like as a crush and Percy and anabeth see it and kinda of tease you two about getting together. IDK IF YOUR COMFORTABLE WRITING IT BUT IF YOU ARE PLEASEEEEEE
-£ him in the third book he was simping. And I changed it to teasing Grover.
-£ warnings: dabble, so much fluffiness, he’s just so adorable and needs more love, based on what I have read so far of him but maybe a bit oc?
no path was left unturned by the love you two had for each other. but circling around without ever meeting was the problem. one aways trailing behind the other, or waiting there in place until unfortunately going again. and it was draining to watch for the other campers.
grocer chased after you like a lost puppy, but you were just as bad with a smile on your face when you saw him. he helped you with anything you needed and never failed to make you laugh. it was obvious how shy he was around you, and how he looked at you like nature itself. the only one to not realize his feelings was you, being just as blind yourself.
“What do you think of theses?” You held up a potato you grew yourself, being someone who doesn’t have the powers for plants you still loved them. This potato you had grown in a pot near your bed after you begged your siblings to letting you keep it there. You wanted to prove yourself.
Grover examined it with his eyes and thought for a second, he hummed out in question as you watched anxiously. Grover was playing with you knowing full well that it was good, you never failed to grow anything.
“Just as perfect as the others,” he flashed a bright a smile as you exhaled in relief. “You really need to stop overthinking.”
Rolling your eyes you picked up the small basket of the others and carried it against your hip. You started to walk along the path as he followed like he always did.
“No one in my cabin likes dirt. But I like it, even like to play in the mud— I just wanna be good at this, is that a crime?” You look at him and he saw the shy smile on your lips and the sparkle in your eyes. he could stare at you all day and never get tired of it.
“No, no. I don’t think so,” he stopped at the end of the path, you needed to go into Demeter's Cabin and both of you now stood in front of the door.
You looked at him for a second and then giggled, “Can I touch your horns?” You looked so sweet and soft that it made his heart flutter.
Grover nodded his head a little to aggressively for his own liking but placed his tilted his head so it was easier for you to reach. the sweet sounds coming from your lips of light laughter caused him to blush a dark red.
Reaching up to his hair and feel the horns on his head for a second, he freezes and tries to stay still but wants to look up again at you. you step back and bring something down when you pull your hands back. he sees a small twig with a small leaf attached to it. he is even more embarrassed now that he wants to run away as fast as he could.
“I think a flower would look better,” you let go of the twig, “I think white amaryllis would suit you quite well.” you nod your head and walk away from him as he stares at you with puppy eyes. he waited until you are out of sight and into the Cain until he groans and covers his face.
“I’m such a idoit.” He speaks to himself while sighing.
“That you are.”
Grover swings around to see annabeth standing there with her arms crossed, and Percy with a huge smirk on his face. Both of there eyes mischievous.
“Hey guys!” He waves his hands. “Fancy seeing you here.” Maybe they could leave him a bit of dignity left.
“You didn’t trip this time,” Percy teased and went up to the boy and pulled him in by the shoulder. “That’s upgrade.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Grover flushed.
“Yes, you do. Following them around camp, looking at them with hearts in your eyes.” Annabeth rolled her eyes.
“Oh y/n, you’re so perfect. Oh, y/n let me carry that for you.” Percy tried to mock Grover’s voice and acted silly in love like Grover did. The satyr pushed him away and tried to walked away from them.
“And you were just geeking out about them touching your horns, I swear you were going to kiss them.” Annabeth followed shortly behind him. She made Grover blush more.
“You’ll be a couple in no time! I’m sure.” Percy patted him on the back.
“Guys stop, this is embarrassing!”
taglist: @maria699669 @purplerose291 @itzmeme @ravenmedows
#grover underwood x reader#grover underwood#percy Jackson x readwr#fluff#book Grover underwood#Grover undere fluff#Grover underwood x gn!reader#Grover underwood x male!reader#Grover underwood x fem!reader
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Welcome Back, OTC. (I'll make love to you) | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC. SMUT. 18+!! MDNI!
Description: Roman is full of surprises at the biggest party of the summer. Lilah is eager to welcome him back.
Warnings: Established Dom/sub dynamic, teasing, spanking/mention of spanking, praise/rewards ("good girl "), honorifics ("Daddy", "My tribal chief"), Nipple play, Petnames (Princess, babygirl, little brat?), vaginal sex, mild brating/brat taming and begging.
Face claim: Jaylen Barron.
Song: I'll make love to you by Boys ll Men
You can find more of my work here.
Stories that feature Roman x Lilah include: Jealous, 34+35, There goes my baby, Nonsense, and Worst to me.
Again, MDNI!!! THIS IS AN 18+ FAN FICTION. As always my stories are about Roman Reigns NOT Joe Anoa'i.
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Lilah sat backstage, anxiously waiting for her boyfriend Roman Reigns to return from the ring. She had no idea ahead of time that he was going to show up and go all 'Wreck everyone and leave' on his little cousin. She was honestly in disbelief. Truth be told it was probably for the best. Lilah couldn't hold water. If she caught glimpse of a birthday gift Roman had gotten for one of his cousins, it was within hours that she'd spill the beans. it's just who she was, surprises were not her forte.
She had been backstage removing her makeup and what-not after her own match, completely in the dark as to what Roman had up his sleeve when she heard the arena erupted in cheers and Lilah's heart skipped a beat. She knew that sound all too well - Roman's wrestlemania 40 theme.
Lilah rushed to the monitor, eager to see her beloved boyfriend. She watched in disbelief as Roman practically flew into the ring and superman punched Solo, giving him no time to recover before hitting him with a spear as 50k+ people roared thunderously in support of him.
After the match, Roman made his way backstage.
"Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?" she asked, her voice neutral.
Roman smiled almost sheepishly. "I wanted it to be a surprise," he said.
Lilah was both angry and relieved. She was angry that Roman had kept her in the dark, but relieved that he was back. In the direct aftermath of wrestlemania 40 the two of them had gone on vacation together, had some island time and just took some time to reconnect, though after the first month Lilah made her return to WWE whereas Roman had not been seen since April. It was now August. Four months later. To the fans it had felt like an eternity. It had for Lilah too really. Being on the road without him felt incredibly weird. Especially now that she wasn't traveling with the bloodline.
With Jimmy and Paul both out with injuries after getting attacked by the new members Solo had brought into the bloodline. Jacob, Tama and Tanga had all been recruited post wrestlemania season when Solo decided that he wanted to play pretend, he had convinced himself that he was the tribal chief and Lilah didn't want any part of it. So she was more than willing to travel by herself, though she did sometimes ride with Trin, Bianca and Jade.
She'd kept Roman in the loop the entire time, constantly filling him in on the shit talking Solo was doing, down to him having the audacity to wear the ula fala. Roman was eerily calm each time, he just reassured her that things would be fine. Just do her own thing, keep her distance from Solo and the others and that he would be back when the time was right.
It seemed that the time was right at Summerslam. "OTC?" Lilah questioned.
"Original tribal chief." Roman responded, a smirk on his face. Lilah couldn't help but chuckle. She loved when he got petty.
As they entered Roman's locker room, Roman pulled Lilah into a tight embrace.
A petty Roman Reigns was a dangerous Roman Reigns. A sexy Roman Reigns. Not that he wasn't always mouth wateringly fuckable, but this attitude... yeah it was doing something for her.
"I missed you," he whispered.
Lilah melted into his arms, all thoughts of anger and surprise fading away. She had missed him too, more than she could put into words.
"I have another surprise for you." Roman said flirtatiously.
Lilah's curiosity was piqued. "What is it?" she asked, a hint of excitement in her voice.
Roman smiled slyly. "I can't tell you yet," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "But I promise, you'll love it."
Lilah couldn't help but feel a shiver of anticipation. She had always loved the way Roman kept her on her toes.
"When can I find out?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
Roman leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. "Soon," he whispered. "Very soon."
Lilah's heart was racing now. She couldn't wait to find out what Roman had in store for her.
"But I want to know now," she said, pouting playfully.
Roman chuckled. "Nope," he said, giving her a playful swat on the ass. "I'm afraid you'll just have to wait."
Lilah huffed in mock frustration. "You're no fun," she said, trying to hide her smile.
Roman chuckled and leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips.
Lilah's annoyance quickly faded as Roman's lips met hers. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and deepening the kiss.
When they finally pulled apart, Roman was grinning. "See?" he said. "I can be fun."
Lilah rolled her eyes, but she was secretly thrilled. "I suppose you're not completely hopeless," she teased.
Roman pretended to be offended. "Ouch," he said, placing a hand over his heart. "You wound me, babygirl."
"You think you can get away with talking to your tribal chief like that? Rolling your eyes at me?" He continued in a playful stern tone, "You want me to spank you, Babygirl?"
Lilah laughed. "You'll live," she said.
Roman chuckled taking a seat and pulled Lilah into his lap. "You're so feisty," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I love it."
Lilah grinned and snuggled closer to him. "You love me," she said, nuzzling his neck.
Roman smiled and kissed the top of her head. "That I do," he said. "That I do."
They sat in silence for a moment, just enjoying each other's company. Lilah was still curious about Roman's surprise, but she knew better than to push him... She still did it anyway though.
Roman chuckled again, sensing Lilah's eagerness. "You're really not going to let this go, are you, little brat?" he asked, his voice taking on a slightly dominant tone.
Lilah shivered at the sound of his voice. "No," she said, her voice low and sultry. "I want to know what you have planned."
Roman smirked and tightened his grip on her waist. "You're going to have to be a good girl and wait," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And if you're really good, I might just give you a reward."
Lilah's heart skipped a beat. "I can be good, My tribal chief." she said, her voice breathy.
Roman chuckled and ran a hand up her thigh. "I know you can," he said, his touch sending shivers down her spine.
Before long they were back in the luxury hotel suite Roman had booked for them, it was dimly light with rose petals all around and led candles flickering. There was champagne and strawberries. The room itself smelled faintly of lavender which he knew was one of her favorite scents. Soft r&b music, mostly from the 90s played from the Bluetooth speaker on the bedside table.
Lilah's eyes widened as she took in the romantic atmosphere. "You did all this for me?" she asked, her voice filled with awe.
Roman smiled and pulled her closer. "Of course I did," he said. "You deserve the best."
He led her over to the bed and gently pushed her down onto it. "Now, it's time for your reward," he said, his voice low and seductive.
Lilah's heart racing with anticipation. She felt Roman's hands on her body, tracing a path of fire over her skin. She moaned softly as he kissed her neck, his lips moving down to her collarbone.
Roman's hands moved lower, slipping under her shirt and tracing the curve of her hips. He kissed her passionately, his tongue exploring her mouth. Lilah arched her back, pressing herself closer to him.
"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. "And all mine."
Roman began to kiss his way down her body. He removed both her shirt and her bra then tossed it aside,"You were such a good girl. So patient and loyal while daddy was away." He said before he took one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his tongue.
Lilah moaned louder, her body writhing under his touch. "Roman, please," she begged. "I need you, My tribal chief."
Lilah's body was on fire with desire. She could feel Roman's hands everywhere, his touch sending waves of pleasure through her. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him closer.
Roman groaned, his own desire evident. "You're so eager, princess." he said, his voice thick with lust.
Roman continued to kiss and touch her, his hands and mouth exploring every inch of her body. Lilah was lost in a haze of pleasure, her mind consumed by the sensations he was creating.
Suddenly, he stopped and pulled away. Lilah opened her eyes, looking at him in confusion, "Daddy..." she whined at his teasing.
Roman's eyes darkened with lust at the sound of her voice. "Yes, princess?" he said, his voice low and commanding.
Lilah shivered at the sound of his nickname for her. "just fuck me already," she whispered. "I want you so badly, my tribal chief, please fuck me."
Roman growled, his control slipping. "You're playing with fire, babygirl," he said as he began to pull down her shorts followed by her black lace panties.
Lilah moaned again, arching her back as he exposed her skin to the cool air. "I don't care," she said. "I need you, daddy."
Roman's hands moved slowly, his fingers tracing patterns over her skin. Roman smirked, enjoying the effect he was having on her. "Is someone feeling a little needy?" he asked, his voice filled with amusement and his signature cockiness.
Liliah whimpered, her body aching for his touch. "Please," she begged. "Please fuck me, daddy."
Roman chuckled, loving the way she begged. "Well since you asked so nicely..." he said before shedding his own clothes.
Roman's hands moved to her hips, gripping them tightly as he positioned himself between her legs. "Mm go ahead, babygirl, acknowledge me." he growled, before thrusting into her.
Lilah cried out, her nails digging into his back as he started to move. "Oh fuck! I acknowledge you, Daddy." she moaned.
Roman continued to thrust into her, his movements rough and possessive. "That's right, babygirl," he said, his voice rough with desire. "You're mine, and I'm going to make sure you know it."
Liliah moaned louder, her body writhing beneath him. "Yes, Daddy, I'm yours. Only yours." she said.
Roman's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming harder and faster. "You're so tight, babygirl," he groaned. "You feel so good around me."
Liliah could feel herself getting closer to the edge, her body tensing with pleasure. "Please, Daddy, I'm so close," she whimpered.
Liliah's body shuddered as she came, her orgasm washing over her in waves. "Daddy!" she cried out, clinging to him tightly.
Roman leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Come for me, princess. I want to feel you come undone around me."
Roman continued to thrust into her, riding out her orgasm before finally finding his own release. He groaned her name as he came, collapsing on top of her.
Liliah wrapped her arms around him, panting and spent. "Welcome back, OTC..." she said, her voice hoarse.
#roman reigns#the tribal chief#wwe roman reigns#head of the table#the head of the table#the only one#joe anoa'i#the bloodline#roman reigns x oc#roman reigns fanfiction#roman reigns smut#roman reigns x black oc#wwe smut#the otc
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All Too Well - DR3 x Fem!OC
Summary: Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye to your family without telling them it’s a final goodbye is even harder. But Em has come to terms that Dan doesn’t love her the same way she loves him, and leaving on her own terms will hurt less than being told he’s ending things. March 2022.
Word Count: 12.3k
Warnings: fighting, all the angst this bad boy can carry, lil bit of a dickhead!Dan, running away from your friends, mentions of death, mentions of motorsport crashes and deaths, moving without telling anyone, lying to family, talk of medical procedures, frank talks about what people want to happen if they can’t decide.
A/N: We’ve kept you waiting, but we hope this was worth the wait! This part of our story is what started us on this madcap adventure together, and it’s a lot of what makes our beloved Em Em. Thank you in advance!
Em stared at the two boarding passes in front of her as she sat in the fancy Heathrow lounge, a caramel latte beside them. Heathrow to Dubai, Dubai to Melbourne. More than twenty hours spent on planes to get to Melbourne, to jump into work and get stuck in at the Australian Grand Prix. And it was the last thing she wanted to do.
She should be excited. She should be so happy because she was about to see the boys after over a week apart, she was about to see Dan. She was finally going to get to see the Ricciardos after almost two years apart. But she was dreading it, the memories from Saudi filling her head as she thought. Em forced her attention to the laptop sitting on her knees, emails up and the one she never thought she’d write sitting in the middle of the screen.
SUB: Resignation Letter
From: [email protected]
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.
#call it what you want fic#ciwyw writing#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo oneshot#f1 imagine#f1 oneshot#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 oneshot#formula one fanfic#formula one imagine#daniel ricciardo x ofc#daniel ricciardo x reader
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5. Give It All
Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC/Tommy Hagan x Fem!OC
Now That We Don’t Talk Masterlist
CW: Unprotected sex, cheating, stepcest
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A familiar buzz raced through his veins the rest of the night, left him restless and wide eyed as he desperately tried to will himself to sleep. Guilt and excitement ate at him, twisting and gripping at his insides so tightly that he found himself sick again. And again.
Tommy had been the first person he had thought to call, the only person that he knew would actually answer. Well, he was sure that Kim would but their situation was complicated.
And he had just made it worse.
Sitting across from her at dinner had been torture. Watching Tommy hold her hand and kiss her cheek, whisper sweet words to her and tease her. They didn’t look unhappy. Not like he’d been suggesting. But then again, he was sure that she felt just as guilty as what he did.
And it made him angry. But he was used to that. Anger was a friend that he knew all too well. He couldn’t do anything different about it. He’d just have to suck it up, to pretend that he was okay until he could leave. He needed to start applying to places.
“What happened yesterday-,” Kim started slowly, keeping her voice low as she tucked her hair behind her ears, “It can’t happen again.” She whispered as she glanced over her shoulder, like Nora would magically know what they were talking about. The toddler was half asleep on the couch anyway. Apparently she had been too excited to sleep last night.
He knew that she was making sure he understood that before hers and Tommy’s guests arrived. Nora’s birthday was today. She was three. Kim had made some sort of life for herself without him. Like she didn’t need him.
In a twisted way, he pitied her. Her life had clearly not become what she had once wanted to be and he was sure that had to be frustrating. Even if she didn’t act like it. He was frustrated with his life, but it was headed exactly how he thought it would.
“What happened?” He asked dryly, cocking his eyebrows as he shut down. If she didn’t care, then he wouldn’t care either. It was as simple as that.
She observed him for a moment, those stunning hazel eyes filled with a sense of sorrow that he didn’t understand. He wanted to cup her face, to kiss her gently until she was no longer upset. To tell her that everything was going to be okay.
“It can’t,” She said softly, “It was wrong.” She tugged at the ends of her hair, twisting the red strands tightly around her fingers. He clenched his fingers into a fist, trying to control the urge to reach out and touch her.
“You were the one that got on your knees,” He reminded her, leaning closer to get a reaction from her, “That begged me to cum on your face.” He enjoyed the way her eyes widened, how her cheeks burned as she tightened her jaw.
“Billy.” She warned, exhaling roughly as she moved her gaze towards his. He locked eyes with hers, savoring each second that he had with her. Even if she was upset with him. He needed something from her.
“I’m just saying,” He said with a shrug of his shoulders, “You wanted it just as badly.” He pointed out, eyes drifting towards her slender neck and then towards her exposed collarbone. He really didn’t get a chance to properly touch her yesterday.
“I know, I know I did,” She said quickly, “But I’m married. I can’t-, I can’t just sleep with you now.” She took a step back, forcing the tension to move between them. He chewed on his bottom lip, missing the warmth that radiated from her body.
“Didn’t stop you before,” He remarked quickly, “You used to go on dates with Tommy and come home begging for my cock. I didn’t forget. Did you?” He knew it wasn’t fair, but it was true. He took a step closer once again, swearing that he could hear her heart beating from the short distance between them.
“Billy-,” She started but then faltered, soft lips parting as he brought his palm up against her cheek. She froze as she leaned against his skin, missing his touch just as much as he’d missed hers. He could read it all over her pretty expression.
“Nothing’s really changed, has it?” He smirked as he tucked her hair behind her ear, “You still want me.” He stated, slowly dragging his fingers across her neck as a pink shade followed behind his touch.
He moved his fingers up to her chin, pressing against her softly before he began to trace her lips. It left him excited and remorseful at the same time. It had been so long since he’d done that. He was foolish for ever pushing her away.
Everything felt blurred as her mouth was suddenly on his, the same electricity pulsing through their bodies as they stumbled back to her room. He was quick to shut the door, quick to remove his clothes and push her back onto the bed.
He captured her lips slowly, deeply as she moaned against him. He squeezed at her boobs as he dragged his tongue against hers, twisting their tongues together as he felt his cock hardening in anticipation. He didn’t see why it was wrong if it felt so right.
“Wait,” She breathed out, making him shut his eyes in defeat as he waited for her to push him away again, “I don’t want to get undressed.” She brought her hand tightly over her abdomen, taking him by surprise.
“What?” He tilted his head, seeking clarity as he tried to read through her new behavior. She had always been bashful, but not quite like this.
“Just push my underwear aside,” She gulped as she kept the hem of her dress over her waist, “It’ll be easier that way.” She nodded her head, but he didn’t agree with that one bit. He’d been dying to actually see her once again and now she wouldn’t let him?
“I want to see you,” He told her as he took her hands in his, stalling for a brief second before he brought his lips across her knuckles, “All of you.”
She flushed underneath his touch, nodding her head shyly before she slowly worked on the buttons at the top of her dress. He watched her for a moment before he took over, working twice as fast and not trembling in the manner she had.
He wasn’t sure why she had been insecure. She was stunning. The prettiest woman he’d ever seen. She was no longer the scrawny girl that he remembered. Her boobs were fuller, her sides softer and a gentle pouch where thick scars rested against her pale skin. Still incredible.
He kissed down her skin, savoring his tongue across her boobs before he reached her stomach. She kept moving her hands there, like she was trying to cover herself up. But he didn’t want that.
He kissed at her belly button, licking teasingly to earn a little squeak from her. He bit back a grin, meeting her eyes for just a moment before he traveled his lips across the constellations across her skin. Scars that resembled the way the shore gently dipped into the water, stretch marks that resembled the deep veins in flower petals and pink stars that had formed from being exposed to the sun. It was all beautiful to him. Real.
“I want you,” He mumbled against her skin, spreading her thighs softly as she sat up on her elbows. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed in deeply, her eyes meeting his for just a second before she turned and nodded her head, “Don’t be shy.”
“I’m not shy.” She whispered, defeating her point entirely as he positioned himself between her legs. He squeezed at her thighs, trying not to stare at her cunt for too long. He wanted to kiss at her, lick at her. But if he started at that then he knew they’d never leave this bed in time.
“You’ve always been shy,” He chuckled as he kissed her softly, rubbing his thumb across her clit, “You’re cute.” He added softly, hoping that she wasn’t insecure still. He wished he could tell her how much he had thought about her for the past three years.
She huffed in response, taking him by surprise before a bashful smile formed on her lips. He watched as she moved her hands to his bicep, holding onto him as he shifted his fingers around his cock. He exhaled deeply, giving himself one quick stroke before he slid himself against her hole.
The feeling of her cunt stretching across his girth nearly left him breathless, his mind fuzzy as he gripped her soft flesh in his hands. Her moans were whiny, higher pitched as he pushed his cock inside of her further and further. Until he was sure their bodies couldn’t get any closer.
“Billy,” She gaped, a symphony of melodies falling from her lips as she repeated his name from her tongue, “Feels so good.” She squeaked out, eyebrows furrowed together as she dug her nails into his bicep. Hopefully hard enough to leave a mark. He wanted to remember her.
He groaned in agreement, too high on the feeling of her slick walls tugging him in deeper each time she breathed in and out. He moved his hands to her face, moving her messy hair away from her face.
“You’re so beautiful,” He exhaled softly, savoring the little pink freckles across her skin. She was still flushed, lips pouty and full while her eyebrows fell together in pleasure. He balanced himself awkwardly, careful not to crush her as his chest fell against hers, “So fucking pretty.” He hummed, enjoying the way she turned bashful. He’d repeat it until she never thought less of herself again.
She crooned in response, eyes wide as she rocked her hips forward in response. She whined, gasping as he began to drag her against the curve of his cock. He exhaled, wanting to tell her that no one had ever felt so good wrapped around him before. No one had ever felt like this. Like them.
He groaned as he glanced down at the way her cunt inhaled his cock, clamping around him and squeezing so tightly that he felt weak. He huffed as he worked her along his length, savoring the sounds that fell from her lips as he dragged his mouth against her neck.
He knew he couldn’t leave any marks, but that didn’t stop him from licking and kissing at her skin. She deserved to be worshiped, molded into clay or froze in some sort of painting to be remembered forever. But no one would ever know her like he did. Truly.
“You’re my fucking whore,” He spit out, his words rolling off of his tongue as she moaned in response. Her nipples were brushing against his chest, nails digging sharply in his skin as he rutted his cock deeper inside of her, “You like that?” He hummed at her.
“Wanna be your whore forever,” She whispered as she dragged her lips against his, making his skin burn in anticipation, “You make me feel so good.” She squealed louder, their moans mixing together as the sound of her pussy squelching across his cock filled the room. It was dirty, filthy and passionate at the same time.
He brought his lips down against hers, kissing her deeply as he dragged his hands across her sides. She moved her mouth feverishly to keep up with his motions, her lips creating electricity between them. Kissing her left him on edge, made him feel reckless and safe at the same time.
“God,” She cried out, teeth dragging against his as she arched her body closer to his. He grunted, grinding into her deeper as the tip of his cock continued to drag across her bundle of nerves. She shook underneath him, clinging to him desperately as she came undone around him, “God! God, Billy!” Her gaze turned desperate, full of lust and desire as he kept the same deep pace as she crashed underneath him.
He ghosted his lips across her features, sighing deeply at her sweet taste as his cock ached in anticipation. He was so close, but he didn’t want to be. He wanted to stay like this forever, inside of her. A part of her.
“Fuck, fuck,” He cursed, pressing his cock deep inside of her as he felt the waves of pleasure crashing over him roughly, “Jesus, Kim!” He groaned, wanting her to remember that he wanted her just as badly. Her name felt so good rolling off of his tongue.
He collapsed over her, breathing roughly as she slowly began to rub her fingertips across the curve of his back. He kissed at the corner of her mouth, wishing he could savor the taste of her. He brushed his nose against hers, briefly wondering how different things could’ve been if he had just stayed.
“Wow,” She stared at him wide eyed, her flush clear down to her neck, “That was incredible.” She hummed, looking a little starstruck as he pressed his lips against her chin. Then her nose. Then her forehead. If he couldn’t have her later, at least he could savor this moment now.
“It was fun.” He replied once he’d had his moment, knowing that he couldn’t linger for too long. He didn’t feel guilty this time. He knew that Kim and him belonged to one another, even if Tommy was a dear friend of his. But he wouldn’t beg if she didn’t want him.
It was silent as he slowly sat up, removing his softening cock from her slick cunt as she turned her head in embarrassment. He paused, debating that it wasn’t too much to clean her up. So that’s what he did. Just like old times. This was nothing more than a little game between the two of them. That’s all it would ever be.
“Thanks,” She whispered hoarsely as she fixed the buttons on her dress once he was finished. He had already slid into his jeans, his shirt hanging off of his shoulders, “I missed you.” She whispered suddenly, taking him by surprise.
He snapped his head towards her, eyebrows furrowed tightly together as he took in the defeat that lingered on her features and on her body. She looked tired, like she had been beat down. He truly felt guilt then, wondering what he had left her to deal with on her own.
The sound of the front door opening rattled the both of them from their thoughts, leaving them scurrying to finish getting dressed before he made his quick escape. He had already been labeled as a fuck up, the last thing he needed was for everyone to know his was in love with his stepsister too.
The bad thing about being sober was that there was no hiding his true feelings towards her.
-
He sat to the corner of the room, a birthday hat loosely sitting on his head as he sipped on a can of Coke. He wished it was something stronger, but Tommy had been adamant that there was no drinking at a toddlers party. Unless you were sneaking out to get shots.
He’d thought about joining him and his former friends for a moment, before he had ultimately decided against it. Kim seemed so radiant as she hosted Nora’s birthday party. She was still quiet, still shy; but he could tell that she was trying to do something special. It was sweet.
“Nice seeing you here.” Max spoke up as she approached him, nonchalantly glancing around like she hadn’t seen him earlier. Neil hadn’t said much either. Or Susan. She actually seemed to have forgotten about him for a few minutes.
“Ha,” He answered dryly, “I didn’t mean to come back.” He said honestly, watching as Nora offered a piece of cake from her hands to Kim. He couldn’t help but smile, even if he did feel sick inside again. He wondered if she was thinking about him at all.
“Figured,” She mumbled, “You just remember your place. Because I am the favorite Aunt.” She replied as she pointed to herself, making him snort.
“Good thing I’m her uncle.” He reminded her, turning away once Tommy approached them again. He didn’t like to be reminded that they had a family he wasn’t a part of. Even though he’d forced his way inside.
“I’ve changed her diaper so that gives me a higher ranking.” She stuck her nose up, smiling like it was something to be proud of. He thought about it for a moment.
“I bet that went horribly for you.” He laughed as he shook his head, glad that he had missed out on that stage. It sounded too messy. He was surprised Tommy had made it through that.
“She’s cute,” Max said brightly, “I like having her around. You would’ve too if you had stayed.” She nudged him softly, making him raise his eyebrows in surprise. He didn’t think she would’ve cared if he had stayed or not. Their relationship had always been difficult.
“They got busy in three years.” He shrugged his shoulders, meeting Kim’s eyes for a fleeting second as Tommy kissed the side of her cheek. She burned brightly before she turned away and he was left wondering what she was thinking once again.
“Right after the wedding,” She clarified, “I don’t think anyone was expecting it that soon. Your dad swore that she got knocked up earlier and that’s why they got married so soon.” He turned towards Max curiously, thinking about what she had said.
It had been soon. Really soon. And Billy was not a complete stranger to what Tommy did in the bedroom. He raved about it enough that he knew that Tommy always wore a condom. Always. And that he had never really been a fan of children. But that didn’t mean it didn’t break or that his mind didn’t change.
But everything slowly fell into place for him to no longer question what he knew to be true. Why Nora’s eyes were a familiar shade of blue, the curve of her nose and light tone in her hair. Her age. Why Kim had given him a cold shoulder, avoided any questions about Nora’s looks. It all made sense suddenly.
Fuck.
Tags: @cassandracorvo @jessicar401 @mrprettywhenhecries
#Billy Hargrove#Billy Hargrove x OC#Billy Hargrove x Fem!OC#Billy Hargrove x fem!Original Character#Billy Hargrove x original character#Billy x Kim#cc x oc#AU#Now That We Don't Talk#Billy hargrove smut#Billy Hargrove fanfiction#Billy Hargrove fic#Billy Hargrove series#Billy hargrove x female original character#Tommy Hagan x OC#Tommy x Kim#Tommy Hagan
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RICKMAS 2024 - DAY 14 - DECEPTIVE KINDNESS [C1]
Pairing : Elliott Marston x OC
Summary : She tried to escape her arranged marriage, but she found herself trapped with Elliott. Can she trust him ?
Tag(s)/Warning(s) : Arranged marriage. Some rude words. Racism. Racism towards aborigines. Tell me if I forgot anything.
A/N : I didn't proofread because I'm so, so, so behind and my brain is just like "Woman ! I'm tired !"
Also read on AO3 - Wattpad
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When you were told you were getting married to Armand de Mont-Alban, you ran away. You never would have believed your father would offer your hand to another without asking you. You had always been his little princess, the one he let everything go. But apparently, not this time. You had some tantrum, threatened to throw yourself into the sea, but your father wouldn't listen. On the contrary, he had threatened to lock you in your room until the wedding day if you continued to make him go gray.
So, without hesitation, and with the discreet but kind help of your mother, you had fled Sidney. Your mother had given you the money she had saved up for years to help you join your uncle, his brother, in the Outback.
You had taken your business with you, the bare necessities, and you had joined the stagecoach that would take you to Adelaide. From there, another stagecoach would take you to Alice Springs. And finally, your cousin's husband would help you reach your uncle's house in the north.
At least, that was the plan, because once you arrived in Alice Springs, you learned that your cousin and her husband had left town for Katherine almost a month ago. The letter announcing it must have gotten lost, but whatever the case, you found yourself spending more than you had planned to be able to sleep. You had hesitated to leave again. The town needed waitresses and although you were not used to manual labor, anything was good to escape. Except that your father would come to get you there, you were sure of it and here, no one would protect you.
So, after talking to a merchant and giving him the rest of your money, you had managed to find yourself in a cart full of pigs to reach the town where your uncle lived. But honestly, pigs were worth much more than your fiancé.
Armand was a cold man. He came from a rich family, richer than yours, who had made their fortune in sheep's wool, then later in breeding prestigious horses. His father was a governor and his mother came from a long line of French aristocrats. If his mother was mannered, she was also very pleasant although she often lacked judgment about her son and even more so on the question of the aborigines.
His father was a rather pleasant man, always with a joke and everything seemed to interest him. But Armand... Armand had inherited a hot-tempered character, amplified by the fact that as a child, his mother had never refused him anything. And when he couldn't get obedience with a snap of his fingers, he used his hands.
After days and days of a hellish journey, you had finally arrived at your uncle's. The initial surprise he had when he saw you, all disheveled, your beautiful clothes rumpled and smelling of manure, evaporated to give way to a dull anger when you explained to him the reasons for your presence.
"Uncle, maybe you could have the marriage annulled. You are influential," you begged him, tears in your eyes.
Your uncle was probably one of the richest men in northern Australia. First thanks to his work, later thanks to the inheritance from his parents. Your poor mother had not been able to have anything of this inheritance and all the estates, jewels and bank account that was in the United Kingdom had returned to your uncle. A good sport, he had shared them with your mother and you too at the same time. But today, for the first time, you saw in this wealth a power that could help you get out of this arranged marriage that you did not want.
"I'm going to go to Sydney, see your father and this Mont-Alban. The father might be able to be convinced to abandon this union."
"Am I going to have to stay here alone ?" you asked him without even trying to hide your apprehension.
"No. I have a partner who is also a good friend. I'll explain the situation to him and I'm sure he'll let you stay with him while I'm gone. He's a cattle rancher who has influence here in the region. You'll be safe with him. But, [Y/N], please avoid being too quick-witted with him and above all, don't tell him your opinions on the aborigines. He's..."
"I get it," you grumbled, rolling your eyes.
"He's really smart, but his opinion on the aboriginal issue..."
"Is biased because despite his great intelligence, he's a bit of an idiot ?" you answered seriously.
"Yes, well, avoid the question with him, please."
You agreed without adding anything, already knowing that you were going to hate him. But it wasn't like you had a better solution, so you couldn't be ungrateful.
Your uncle had had no trouble getting Elliott to agree to you being under his protection. A nice, well-filled envelope and the promise that he would be given priority for the sale of his cattle had been enough. Elliott was his friend, but he was aa skilled negotiator and your uncle respected that.
"This is my niece," he said as he helped you off the cart."
"This is my niece, [Y/N]," your uncle introduced you.
"Mr. Marston, I'm delighted," you said politely.
Elliott snickered and you did your best not to make a scathing remark at him. In his eyes, you were indeed a well-bred little rich girl who had never known a single minute of work. And he was right. But he was wrong when he thought you must be a little prig used to ordering and getting things done.
"No sir here, sir, that was my father. I'm Elliott," he finally said before taking the suitcase that your uncle had just taken off the cart. "I'll show you to your room."
Elliott's imposing stature, mixed with his dark eyes and that mustache that gave him the air of a man of high society, impressed you right away. He made you nervous, but there was no way he would realize it.
You walked through the house which was beautiful, clearly demonstrating the man's wealth, even if it was far from the opulence of your own home. However, you did not mark the servant. Or rather the slave. An aboriginal. You clenched your fists, but true to your promise, you said nothing.
"Here is your room. It is the coolest in the house, even if it will be stifling most of the time. If you need a bath, Kunkurra is here for that."
He put your suitcase on the floor and left without another word. You settled in comfortably, thanking Kunkurra who seemed surprised but said nothing. Deep down, you hoped that this cohabitation would go well. After all, your uncle trusted this Elliott.
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You couldn't be more wrong. You couldn't stand him. Elliott. He got on your nerves. He was arrogant, full of himself and racist. He didn't share any of your values and when he twirled his gun between his fingers like an Appalachian cowboy, you imagined him shooting himself in the foot and it amused you immensely.
You tried to eat before he finished his work so as not to have to share his table and you avoided being in the same room as him as much as possible. In truth, you spent most of your time reading and sometimes helping Kunkurra.
The slave had been surprised the first time you helped him with the dishes, but he hadn't said anything. You weren't like the other people on the estate. He liked you.
That night, however, you couldn't avoid Elliott who had caught you talking to his horse. He had been touched by this gentleness that wasn't apparent but seemed to be your true nature. He had then asked you if you would have dinner with him and you hadn't dared to say no.
All evening, he had asked you questions that were more than just polite. They were too specific. It was a little too much about your family's money too.
"Being a well-born girl, life must have been easier," he remarked as he cut his steak.
"It probably was. Until now," you replied without looking up from your own plate.
"You always got what you wanted, right ? It must be a change for you to play servant alongside Kunkurra. Washing plates is probably not something you did often at your parents' house."
You blushed slightly at his last sentence. You didn't know he had noticed you helping his slave.
"Indeed, I have rarely washed dishes in my life. But I have never desired an arranged marriage."
"With a rich man. Enough to have even more servants and to ensure you never break a nail."
"At least our servants are paid !" you spat, suddenly raising your head.
Elliott, for the first time since you arrived, saw something other than melancholy in your eyes. There was a fire under there, a bright fire that was ready to burn all of Australia.
"You men are all the same," you finally said, "to believe that obedience is better than happiness."
"I never said that," Elliott replied more quietly than he expected, "and don't be so quick to judge all men based on the ones you've known so far. This fiancé may not be so terrible after all."
"The first time he met me, he called me a 'mare to tame' but also that he would be happy to do it. Judge for yourself, Elliott."
After that, a heavy silence ensued and when you had finished your plate, it was without shame that you helped Kunkurra clean up the kitchen.
After that evening, you no longer avoided Elliott. You stood up to him, answered him back in kind and you weren't afraid to challenge him. And he liked it. No one had ever dared to speak to him the way you did, much less a woman, but you, you weren't afraid to speak your mind. You were different from the cocky little Lady he had imagined. In fact, you were even interesting. Sometimes.
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Knock, knock, knock.
...
Knock, knock, knock.
...
Knock, knock, knock.
The door flew open, revealing a shirtless Elliott and for a moment, you couldn't take your eyes off his muscular torso. A scar on his stomach slightly intrigued you, but when his baritone voice started growling at you, you quickly came to your senses.
"FOR GOD'S SAKE, WOMAN, IT'S..." he turned to glance at the clock on his dresser, "it's one in the morning!"
"There's something out there," you said quietly.
A noise had woken you up and trembling but determined you had gone to knock on Elliott's bedroom door.
"Maybe one of the men needed to pee," he replied, suppressing a yawn.
"It wasn't a man peeing," you replied a little frustrated that he didn't take you seriously.
"We're in Australia, my dear. We're surrounded by wild animals. They exist here, far from your nice houses in the city," he said without hiding his exasperation.
"What if it wasn't an animal?" you insisted, not reassured.
He sighed dramatically, rolling his eyes before finally returning to his room in a theatrical gesture to come out a second later with his gun.
"You never do anything without it?" you asked following him.
"My dear, if it's a thief, you'll be glad I took my gun."
He crossed the living room with you on his heels. Your hand was almost touching his bare back, you were so afraid of being left alone. When he opened the front door, he made a gesture to you to keep quiet. You nodded while continuing to follow him on tiptoe.
Arriving on the porch of the house, he fired once in the air, making you jump. It was then that an animal on which the moon made its light dance, making its red fur shine a little more, ran away at full speed.
"A dingo," Elliott said, taking your arm to lead you into the house. "And now that we're awake, how about some tea?"
Without waiting for your answer, he set to work. You refrained from telling him that you were surprised that he was able to do something domestic without his slave. Instead, you thanked him in a low whisper.
"Thanks for not laughing."
"Oh, believe me, that was hard," he replied with a small smirk.
You each sat down in an armchair, but Elliott didn't miss your gaze that often lingered on his bookshelf.
"You can borrow some if you want."
"Thanks," you replied a little surprised, "I like books. They don't lie."
Elliott stood up with the grace of a feline and pulled out a large volume that hadn't been read in a long time to hand it to him.
"This one is full of lies. A story of adventure in the wild west."
"If this story allows you to escape for a moment and forget about reality, then it's not a lie," you replied as you took the book.
Elliott looked at you, really looked at you for the first time. And for the first time, he began to doubt what he had set out to do.
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"Mr. [Y/S],
Your brother-in-law has asked me to watch over your daughter while he attempts to cancel this marriage you have arranged for her.
You and I, I am sure, are pragmatic men. I understand the importance of this union to your family.
I will protect your daughter as I promised, until you come to collect her to offer her to her fiancé.
As a man of the world, I am sure you understand that a service, especially one as great as watching over your most precious possession, cannot go unrewarded.
I would very much like to expand my business with Sidney and the surrounding towns and I am certain that you and I, Mr. [Y/S] could help each other.
In the meantime, please accept the assurance of my highest regards.
Kind Regards,
Elliott Marston."
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"Do you remember London ?" Elliott asked you as you helped him feed the horses.
"No. I was four when we left, my whole life is in Australia," you answered with a hint of nostalgia.
You and Elliott were talking more and more. In fact, you would almost dare to call him a friend. He was witty and he listened to your opinion. You often argued about the Aboriginal cause, but one night he surprised you by questioning your fierce need to defend them without prejudice or mockery.
"Why does your father force you to marry this man if you are his little pet as you say ?"
"For the sake of propriety. We are always a bit English, no matter where we are, aren't we?"
Elliott shrugged his shoulders
"My father was Irish. But my parents died when I was very young..."
That's when he explained to you. Everything. And you understood why he harboured such hatred towards the Aborigines. You didn't excuse him for what he did to them in return, but you thought that maybe all was not lost for this man. He could be fixed. He could learn. He could become better.
"My father always kept the values of the United Kingdom. He was strict when I was a child, but always fair and loving. My mother, she... well, I guess she always behaved like a good wife," you explained, stroking Elliott's stallion.
"Everything you refuse to be, right ?" he questioned without contempt.
"We are capable of being more than an obedient wife, Elliott. We can learn, we can do the same things as men. We are no less intelligent than you, and my friend Cassandra would be as capable as some of your men here. But there are very few men who are willing to see our values beyond tradition."
Elliott said nothing because he knew he thought like your father. Yet he found himself noticing your subtlety, your intelligence, but also your resilience and the way you had of hiding your vulnerability under a facade of calm and restraint.
And he was starting to blame himself. He thought about that letter he had written just after you arrived with the intention of posting it as soon as he went to town to buy food. But he was no longer so sure he wanted to do it.
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If only. If only he had hidden it better. If only you hadn't been snooping around after your bath while he was making you dinner, proud to introduce you to one of his specialties. If only he had burned that letter as soon as he understood what that tightness in his chest meant when he saw you.
Then, maybe you would have never known that his kindness had been, at least at first, just a deceptive kindness.
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Listen. I love the dcxdp crossover. It’s a lot of fun! There’s so much that can be done for this crossover, with all the characters and settings and the many plots that can spring up from them. But as much as I love writing for it and sharing my fics with the community, there’s been a significant uptick in things that are rubbing me the wrong way. Some of these things have to do with canon vs fanon, but others are more about the shifting culture of the community.
(keep in mind that I only see things on Tumblr and am not in any discords, so my experience will be different from others bc I have a more limited experience with the wider community)
(putting it all under a read more bc its long)
Let’s start off with a look at what we’re doing as a group:
Building off of completed fics on tumblr: I always thought the etiquette is to not build off of a completed work without permission. Someone had an idea and executed it, then shared it with us. It should end there. If you want to add to it, contact the author first and see if it’s something they’re fine with; some will say no, some will say yes, some will say yes but be sure to credit them for the original fic. A lot of what I’m seeing is a completed fic gets added on to in a way that completely takes it away from the original idea. Having experienced this myself (on a requested prompt from someone else, no less), I found it kind of rude. Maybe it’s just me, but a completed fic is not a prompt request or something open for building up another story around. It’s already completed. Leave the story as is and let the author know you liked it.
Expecting others to write for you: the prompts are what build this crossover fandom, in my eyes. Prompts are posted and people create something around them, either as a group by adding onto what other people are saying, or as individual fics that one person wrote. Now I’m seeing people throw out prompts that are basically fic outlines, then begging others to write something for it. Like, those prompts are already written! They have very specific details! Why not write it yourself? You���re already halfway there, you can just write the thing you want to see and post it. It’s not about being ‘good’ or ‘bad’ at writing, it’s about crafting an idea to share to the world. Why ask others to write it for you when you’ve already practically done it?
But also, you are not owed fic. This might just be general fandom burn out talking, but being a fic author who has been treated like a machine? It sucks. I love writing, but I share what I write because what I wrote made me happy and I wanted to share that with others. I’m not a content creating machine who has to pump out fic after fic for other people’s entertainment. I just want to share what I love and having people pop up in my notifs only going “write more/tag me/sequel?/etc” is tiring. I get that it’s coming from a place of love bc you liked the fic enough to want to see more, but please actually talk about what I’ve already written instead of going “update? More? MORE????”
Hostility to DC canon: I get that DC canon is a mess, but it still is a canon and has a lot of cool stuff! I’m seeing a lot of posts recently about how dpxdc people refuse to engage with the comics, and I need to let yall know that this is not a new thing. DC fans also refuse to engage with the comics (it’s mostly batfam) and it’s very easy to tell who has and who hasnt ready batfam related stuff bc the fanon is incredibly wrong about characterisation and what happened in comics. But that’s for a different post.
I’m seeing both sides of the argument (this is for fun, reading comics isn’t required, don’t like don’t read vs it’s tiring seeing people butcher my favorite characters into ocs with their name/face, I want to share my love for comics but there’s so much pushback, it shouldn’t be weird to expect people engaging with a media to have actually engaged with that media). And I think you should engage with comics! DP is a unique case in which fanon is for the most part better and more interesting than the original show (also death to the author/butch hartman), but DC comics shouldn’t be engaged with in that way. If you like the characters you see in dpxdc, you should read about them in comics! The whole point of a fandom is that you’re a fan of the original media. That’s why you’re engaging with it in this way, writing within the world and characters and canon.
I don’t know how people write for fandoms when they’re not familiar with the source material. I wanted to write dcxdp so I started rewatching DP. I’m reading comics. I want to know the characters and their stories so I can have a foundation to write from, and also to better understand the media so I can share my love for it. The refusal to engage with source material while engaging with its fandom is so strange to me.
Also dc fans who love the comics are great! In my experience, they’re very kind and willing to help you jump into comics! Don’t know where to start? Pick a character or team and follow them! Want a reading guide? We’ve got TONS. want thoughts on a specific character or comic run? Just ask!
Now to more specific points about what I’m seeing in dcxdp works:
Mischaracterized batfam: this is a group of people who are disasters and have complicated relationships with each other. They’re kind, wonderful people who bring out the best and worst in each other. Why is Batman always adopting people. Why is this a running joke with the batfam. I get it being a joke the first few times, but I’ve seen it so often and done like it’s accurate characterization that I just. I can’t. I leave that fic immediately. I can’t do it anymore. Batman is paranoid and tried very hard to keep kids away from him/away from being a vigilante. Unfortunately all the kids he got are stubborn and smart so he was doomed from the beginning.
Superman and Kon: you guys are pretty much only pulling from Young Justice Animated which I think is a terrible adaptation, but that’s my own taste. But seriously. Clark is kind. That’s an important part of his character! He’s the strongest man in the world and he’s kind. He was also dead when Kon first appeared as a experiment from CADMUS in Hawaii. They’re not father-son, but they are family and they do care for each other, once they get to know each other. Also Kon is not an angry broody boy, he’s funny! And annoying! pls read kon comics guys, i promise youll like his actual character
Chronos??? Guys. Chronos is not a god in DC canon. He is in Greek mythology, but in DC he’s a Captain Atom villain and he’s literally just a guy who got obsessed with having perfect timing. He’s themed around clocks. He has nothing to do with time travel or time gods. The Speedforce is Time, basically, and it is not human. It is an eldritch being beyond our comprehension that can eat people. If it chooses to have a human form, it’s going to choose to look like Bart. Please read Flash stuff, it’s interesting!
Lazarus Pit Madness lasts like 5 minutes in canon. Jason having it, and being affected by it for years, is a purely fanon thing from the dc side. Not going to say anything more on this because it goes into Jason Todd discourse.
Repetition: I’m sorry but I’m tired of seeing the same things over and over. I barely see anything out of the dcxdp tags thats new and fun to engage with. Everything is the same variation of “Danny helps Pit Mad Jason”, “Bruce insta-adopts Danny”, “Superman is mean to clones”, etc etc. Think of any popular dcxdp trope and that’s all you’ll see. I get why these are fun and popular, but the way it’s being engaged with now? It literally makes me exit Tumblr and put my phone down.
Not every prompt has to go down the same routes as the other prompts. Please explore more options, branch out, twist those tropes around to do something new with them. And also stop going onto other people’s fics and saying “what about [dcxdp trope]? Cant wait to see [dcxdp trope]! You should have [dcxdp] trope.” If I didn’t include it, it’s not included for a reason. There are hundreds of other fics that write specifically about those exact tropes. Read those, or write your own. (im being super bitter here but please just let me write what i want to write without trying to pull the story into another direction for a trope you like. Im writing for me, but sharing it for you. Not every fic needs those tropes in them.)
Tumblr specific things: this is less about the content and more about general posting etiquette. Please put long posts under a read more. If it’s more then three paragraphs, consider adding a read more if there is significantly MORE than three paragraphs. Tag appropriately. Content warnings and trigger warnings should be at the very top of the post and in the tags so they can be properly blocked. If you’re posting fic/prompt, please double check your spelling and fix any typos you find because posts that are filled with excessive typos are difficult to read.
There’s probably a lot more to talk about, but just getting this much out is tiring and, frankly, I don’t want to think on it any more today. If you reply/add comments, I won’t get to them in a while bc I will be writing ghostlights and yhk fic to lift my mood :)
#rambles#dpxdc#dc x dp#tentatively tagged for cataloging and blocking purposes#i will probably make more coherent posts later abt the individual things in here so if u want a discussion wait for those#just so its easy to keep track of what we're talking abt
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Romeo & Juliet [Part 3]
Paring: Jacob Black x OC!Swan
Word Count: 1,219
Part 1, Part 2, Part 4
It felt as if the Swan household let out a silent sigh of relief as Bella was coming out of her slump. Bella no longer spent her days burrowing into her chair, looking out the window waiting for him. The last conversation their father had with her really brought her out of her slump. She was now spending time away from their old table and hanging out with her friends and even Jacob. Things were starting to get better and Sloan hoped it would stay that way.
She did notice prominent differences in her sister. Bella no longer loved music. In fact, she shunned it at every turn. Car rides to school were filled with dead air and the night before, Sloan found all of Bella’s CD collection in the trash. She fished them out from the garbage in case Bella changed her mind. Growing up, music was a way to escape their mother’s impetuous decision-making. They both found solace in music, and to learn Edward had taken away her safe place broke Sloan’s heart. For now, she would keep them safe until Bella was ready.
Sloan flipped through the channels, not finding anything of interest, and switched the TV off.
“I’m heading to Jake’s,” Bella hurried down the stairs, almost tripping on her untied shoelaces. They did not need another scare like the one that landed her in the hospital.
“Be careful,” Sloan warned. Bella was clumsy all on her own. She didn’t need external forces to turn her mishaps into full-blown disasters. “Would you mind if I tag along?” Sloan hadn’t seen or spoken to Jacob since their beach day. The two could go on for months without contact and immediately chat like nothing happened.
Bella’s body fluctuated from complete relaxation to tense rigidity. “Um…” It was a brief moment of awkward silence. Bella folded into herself as if she wanted to disappear, and Sloan grew more frustrated by the palpable tension in the room. The more they sat in silence, the heavier the air became, the weight of unspoken words and unresolved disposition pressing down on them.
“You know what, I changed my mind. I don’t want to go,” Sloan relented. She wasn’t going to beg when it was clear she wasn’t wanted. Bella clearly didn’t want her to intrude on their socializing session.
On one hand, Sloan understood. Jacob had become Bella’s safe space, and the dynamic would change, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t hurt by the exclusion.
Bella walked off without even muttering a goodbye. The slam of the door brought a stark realization of her profound solitude.
~~~
Weeks had gone by and Sloan heard from her father that Jacob was sick. It explained why Bella was acting so frantic, incessantly calling Jacob’s phone and Billy’s landline, in hopes Jacob would answer. She was acting like a crazy ex-girlfriend, hence why Sloan didn’t tell her about going over to drop off a get well card and homemade soup. She did not need Bella pleading to come along or disturbing Jacob’s peace while he recovered.
“How could you have gone without telling me?” Bella asked, with animosity dripping from her tone. “Did you see him? Did you talk to him? Why hasn’t he been answering my calls?”
“Bella,” Sloan began, “I only dropped a few things off. I didn’t talk to Jacob, I didn’t even see him. I only spoke to Billy and left. I stayed outside the entire time I was there. Jacob is sick. It’s probably something more than just mono, but whatever it is, Billy is worried it might be contagious.”
Once Bella realized Sloan didn’t have the answers she needed, she immediately went to their landline and called Billy’s again. “Hey Jacob, it’s me again. Just wanted to hear your voice…”
Bella was spiraling again. She tethered herself to Jacob, who made himself readily available to her in her time of need, but now that he needed space, she was lost. Edward really messed her up.
“Bella.” Sloan pulled her away from the landline. “Stop calling Jacob. Stop bothering Billy. Jacob needs rest, and hearing the phone ring several times a day is not going to help him recover any faster. He’ll get back to you as soon as he can.” Talking to Bella like a child had become an occurrence. She was just not getting it.
“Maybe you need some time to yourself. Away from Jacob,” Sloan suggested. “Spend some time with me. We haven’t had movie night in a while. Why not tonight? I can make us some popcorn and we can watch whatever you want.”
“I don’t want to be away from Jacob. Everything is better with him, easier,” Bella exclaimed. “It’s not the same with you.”
“You don’t mean that.” Sloan could feel tears bubbling up to the surface.
“I do,” Bella said, with absolute certainty. “I don’t want to spend any more time with you. I just want him.”
Him. Was she referring to Edward, her first love, or Jacob, the boy she had been co-depending on?
While the separation between Bella and Jacob was accidental, it had shown it was needed. Bella was co-dependent on others, more so on boys. Her behavior, Sloan noted, wasn’t healthy, and being away from Edward and Jacob only sent her spiraling out of her mind. It felt like Bella could not function without their attention. She would need to speak to their father about this revelation.
Bella had left soon after the end of their conversation, deciding it was beneath her, and Sloan knew Bella needed to find a better coping mechanism. She could not depend on others to fix her, to keep her from breaking.
~~~
Rain is a fairly common occurrence in Forks. Rain was nature’s way of restarting the cycle of life and Sloan’s routine of cozying up on the couch, watching a movie, and sipping on a cup of hot chocolate.
Listening to the sound of water droplets striking the roof and windows of the house always left her in a sleepy mood. If she wanted to watch a good portion of the movie, she would have to move quickly. She quickly brewed the hot chocolate while searching through her father’s DVD collection.
Once she picked ‘Legally Blonde,’ she wrapped herself in one of her warmest blankets. The house was quiet as her father and sister were out. Their father was working overtime tonight and would be back late, and her sister was somewhere doing God knows what. After their insightful conversation a few days ago, Sloan distanced herself from her.
Sloan heard the keys rattling and the front door opening. “Bella?” Sloan called out even though she figured it was her sister.
Without an answer, Sloan moved from her spot and called out again, “Bella, is that you?” When she turned to the front door, she could see her sister soaked to the bone. “Are you alright?”
“He doesn’t want me.” She whispered as her body shivered from the cold. Water was pooling beneath her in a puddle.
“What?”
“He doesn’t want to be with me.” She walked upstairs like a zombie, utterly lifeless, a trail of water following behind her.
“Make sure to take a warm shower,” Sloan called out before removing herself from her blankets and moving to clean up Bella’s mess.
Masterlist
#the twilight saga#twilight fanfiction#twilight saga#twilight#twilight jacob#jacob black#jacob black x oc#bella swan#twilight bella#twilight charlie#charlie swan#original female character#original character#oc!swan#twilight fandom
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Deerly Beloved (15)
Pairing: Alastor x Fem! OC
Warnings: Swearing; Sexual Activities
Genre: Fluff/Angst (& Humor!)
Word Count: 4.4K
15. Sexy Scars
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“May, can I talk to you?”
“Of course, you can Miss Vera,”
She sits down next to the older woman, fiddling with her fingers and then her ear “I think I might be having some issues with my husband,”
“You think or you are?”
“I am,”
“What troubles you, my dear?”
Voe turns her eyes away “I don’t want you to get mad at him?”
“Why do you care about my opinion?”
Obviously, Voe knew why, but she couldn’t tell that to May, then her marriage would have even more strife than it does now. It would drive Alastor straight into Willie’s arms.
“I just find you to be a place of wisdom” May perks up and leans in to listen “So I think my husband might be thinking of leaving me,”
May scoffs “I wouldn’t worry about that sweetie,”
Voe pulls on her ear and looks up with wide eyes “Why not?”
“Because I don’t think your husband is an idiot. despite acting like one. Truth is, I don’t know what he did to get you, but he’d be really dumb to lose you. You are a diamond Miss Vera, don’t you let some man make you forget that,”
A diamond. Yeah, she was a diamond, and she’d known that all the years of her life and even afterward. She thought about when she met Alastor, nothing he said or did made her doubt her worth, so why should it be any different now? Why was she having these thoughts now? Because of love? Well, love needed to get in line cuz this bitch was a diamond, and it was time for her to do what diamonds do. Reflect. On her place, on her actions, on herself. Now was not the time to crumble, diamonds do not crumble, they sparkle. She was this and every season’s diamond. Then she started thinking of how she’d never get to see the end of Bridgerton and got a little sad, but no matter! May was right, no man could reduce her value, even the one she married.
“Thank you!” Voe lifts her arms and pulls them back “May I hug you?”
“Of course!” She pulls the doe to her chest tightly
May didn’t say anything after she hugged the doe, but she was about fed up with this man who shared her son’s name. He was disrespectful and it needed to come to an end. Now.
“Cherri lemme ask you something,”
She turns her eye toward him “Yeh?”
“Why’d you tell Voe about Willie?”
“Cuz she asked, eh?”
He flattens his eyebrows “But how you said it was kinda grimy,”
She shrugs “I don’t know what you want from me. This bitch asked, and I gave her an answer,” There’s a silence between them before she speaks again “And why do you care anyway eh?”
His head whips toward her “Whatchu mean?”
“Why you care so much about the broad, she hasn’t really done nothin’ for ya”
“She’s my friend, Cherri,”
“Thought I was your friend,”
“You are! Where is this coming from?”
She pops her gum and shrugs again “Eh, never mind, don’t worry about it,”
Voe decided that she didn’t need Alastor for anything. She could take care of herself if he wanted to be shacking up with some other woman. Of course, that meant no more of his tall, thin body. His hard chest was covered in sexy scars. His large hands covered areas that she had never felt the rough and somewhat gentle touch of. She knew that she missed him, but she could do without him if she needed to. Do you know who else she could rely on? Lucifer. He put the moves on her nice and steady a few years back, and it was a secret that she would keep for all eternity that sometimes she missed his touch. Just because she was married to Alastor did not mean that she no longer found Lucifer attractive; don’t be ridiculous. She thought of how Lucifer pulled her close into a kiss after she came into his room begging to be fucked, and he promised that he would do anything for her. Voe kisses the air and tries to imagine Lucifer, but all she can see is Alastor, even when they weren’t together, Alastor would invade her thoughts and her dreams. She wrapped her hands around her own throat, letting one hand drop down to her chest and find its way into her shirt, down to her bust, where her finger ran over her nipple a few times…in a circular motion. She decided it was finally time to take her shirt off-she had a hard time removing it due to the wings she was still getting used to - and tossed it to the floor. She unhooks her bra and lets it fall to the ground; she glances down at the cover and decides against it, it feels more scandalous that way. She finds her nipples again after sliding down her panties and crossing her legs tightly. She fondles them in every way, shape, and form, fondling, twisting, pulling, and sucking, all switching between imagining Lucifer or Alastor was doing it. She felt the wave rising up as she twisted and pulled more and more. Rising, delectable, lustful sensations filled her cunt, and right before she fell off the edge, the door opened. Voe was quick to cover himself with her rather large wings.
“I heard you were- “She knew that voice, but she was blushing too hard to look up and see the face of her husband. Especially after he cut himself off. “My my, what is this, my dear?”
She could hear his voice getting closer, which meant that he was. He dissipates his cane and places his hands behind his back, shutting and locking the door behind him. Voe hears no noise until she feels the bed dip and herself being rolled onto her back. He separates her wings and stares into her blushing face, staring down at her with a smirk larger than Texas “I was going to say I heard you were talking to my mother about me, but this intrigues me much more,” he lifts her chin. Alastor’s hand goes down past her sore nipples and down between her legs. He drags his finger through her soaking slit up to her aching, throbbing clit. He rubs it in slow, meaningful, deliberate motions.
“You didn’t miss this, right? You didn’t miss my touch?” He breathes against the skin of her neck before planting a calculated kiss there. “It’s something you can’t-” he licks her neck in a slow and controlled manner. “replicate, can you?” He raises his head and breathes onto her lips “And if you dare to try, you will only think of this moment, of me and my skilled hands on you. For I am the only one who knows your body this well,” he places his hand over her mouth to muffle the loud moan that comes from her as he pushes her over the edge. Voe instinctively looks up, waiting for a kiss that Alastor does not provide. He simply removes himself from the bed, sucks his fingers dry, then turns to exit the room.
“You will never do this again, understand me?” he throws the command over his shoulder leaving Voe annoyed and perplexed
When he slams the door shut, she grabs a pillow and pulls it onto her face, screaming into it while kicking her legs into the air.
“And then he told me not to masturbate again!”
“Are you sure that’s what he was saying?”
“What else could he be talking about?”
Angel shrugs “I don’t know, you breathin’?”
Adrian pulls a trunk into the Hotel doors, struggling through the parlor.
“Adrian?” Voe called his name
He looks up from the trunk and towards her “Yuh?”
“What are you doing here?”
“Movin’ in,” he answers nonchalantly
She looks over at Angel “Why?”
“Alastor said I could,”
Voe squints “Alastor isn’t in charge,”
He shrugs “Idk. That’s what he said,” he goes back to struggling with the suitcase
“Wait,” She puts her hands together, standing in his way “Alastor owns you, right?”
He rolls his eyes “Yeah don’t rub it in,”
“Is this what he promised you? A place to live?” she helps him carry the suitcase to his room
“He said he’d take me under his wing and give me money,”
“So you’re like our son!”
Adrian blinks in shock “I will never call Alastor dad,”
“Would you call me mom?”
Adrian shrugs, staring at the clothes that had come out of the suitcase on his room floor “Yeah, I guess,” he answers nonchalantly
“Amazing!” she runs up and hugs him tight. He’s taken by surprise and doesn’t hug her back “I can’t believe he gave me shit for adopting when he went and basically did the same thing!”
“I don’t think it’s the same thing,”
“No, no, no, you’re our son now. You wanna meet your siblings?”
“My stuff..” he gestures toward his clothes on the floor
“Come on!” she grabs Adrian’s wrist and yanks him to the twin's room
The twins are standing in their cots talking, well, mostly Aly is talking “Who dat big head??” she asks in the middle of her sentence
“Hi, Lady!” Vernie says with a smile
Adrian throws an empty water bottle at Alyson’s head, and it hits her, falling into the cot
“Ow!” she covers the spot on her head and starts to cry
“Why did you do that?” Voe is appalled
Adrian turns to her “I heard Aly was his favorite,” he leans in “So you’re not mine dweeb!”
Voe reaches for Aly, and Aly flinches away “Daddy!” she cries
Alastor appears behind Voe from the shadows “What’s this? A family reunion?”
Voe flinches at his voice and turns around “Yes! With the son that you didn’t tell me you adopted!”
“I did not adopt that thing. He came to me,”
“He said you offered him a place to live?”
Alastor lowers his eyes to look at her face “Sure,”
“So he’s our son!”
“No,” he places his hands behind his back “He doesn’t have a family,”
“Daddy!” Aly calls, “Big head threw that at me!” she points to the bottle
Alastor pushes past the both of them and picks up Aly. He turns to Adrian, “Hurt my daughter once more, and I will tear your soul to pieces,” He raises an eyebrow
Adrian sticks his tongue out at Aly “Snitch,”
Alastor snaps in his face “Do you understand?”
He crosses his arms “Yes,”
Alastor turns to exit the room, giving Voe the side eye “Some son,”
“Mom, can I talk to you?” she approaches her mom in her room
Daphne looks up from the floor “Okay,”
Voe steps in and lowers her head “I’m sorry that I said those hurtful things to you. I didn’t mean them. I said them because when someone hurts me, my first instinct is to hurt them back, and being reminded of that dynamic that you and I used to have brought me back to my old ways, but I’ve grown past that, I swear. I need you to know that you hurt me. Very badly,” Voe takes a deep breath, “Implying that my autism means that something is wrong with me and throwing that I came to Hell first in my face is hurtful, I’m not sure if you were aware, but if not, I’m letting you know now. I don’t want to live in my afterlife the same as my life. I don’t want to be estranged from my mother again. I love you, Mom, but you hurt my feelings,”
Daphne didn’t know what to say. She never thought of it in that way. Had she been hurting her own daughter this way her entire life? Is that where she learned her cruelty? From her? She didn’t want to be estranged for eternity, either. She wanted to love her daughter and feel love in return.
“I never knew that hurt you. I’m sorry,” Daphne enveloped her daughter in a hug.
Voe sniffled a bit “That’s all I wanted,”
Alastor sat in the parlor reading a novel when May came up behind him and cleared her throat
“May I speak with you sir?” she says in an authoritative voice
Alastor froze he heard the tone of his mother’s voice, and it took him back to when he was a boy, he knew that tone. He was in trouble.
“Hmm?” he stalled for a time before turning around “Yes?” he stood out of his chair, eager to impress her.
“I know it’s none of business, but I’ve been talking to your wife,”
“Okay…” his smile is awkward and tense
May put her hands on her hips “She is not happy,”
Alastor fiddles with his fingers behind his back “Well, neither am I,”
She lowers her brows “I can tell, but the way you’re treating her is absolutely diabolical,”
“Do not compare me to him,”
“Do not tell me who to compare you to! I call it like I see it!”
Alastor stands straighter and smiles wider to hide his discomfort “Look, May is it?” He felt very strange calling her by her first name “You don’t understand the whole thing,”
She raises her eyebrow “I beg your finest pardon?”
“All I am saying is you don’t know the entire story…ma’am,”
“Well, then tell me. What could that sweet girl have done to deserve the way that you treat her,” She steps closer to him, and he feels small “Honestly, you may share mt son’s name, but you are nothing like my son!”
The color leaves Alastor’s face, hearing his mother say this. She didn’t know, but this was his worst nightmare
“Trust me, I’m more like your son than you think,” he says through his teeth
“And how would you know my son?”
He can’t hold himself back “Because I’m-I’m-!”
“Oh my gosh, I know who you are!”
Alastor takes a step back “You do?”
“Yes, I do! And taking my son’s name is just disrespectful!”
Alastor tilts his head “Who do you think I am?”
“You’re that little boy from next door that always used to bother my son!”
Alastor looked and was confused, he thought back and remembered that boy from next door. The racist one, who made sure he knew his place constantly. So Alastor showed him his place, 6ft underground
“And now you’re taking his name? You’re sick! I don’t know how you got someone as sweet as Miss Vera!”
“She is not sweet! She is cunning and conniving and….”
“And what?!” “And I love her!”
She takes a step back “Well,” they blush similarly and simultaneously, both taking a step back and looking down at the ground “You need to make sure that she knows that because your treatment of her is unacceptable,”
“Of course, I apologize. I will let her know. And I’m sorry for the way I treated your son,”
“You should be, my boy was an absolute sweetheart. Nobody deserves the way you’ve been treating them,”
“You’re right,”
May cross her arms “Ya damn right I’m right,”
“Mama…mia!”
She stares at him confused “You’re a strange man. Make it right with Miss Vera!”
He nods “I will,”
“Wish she would’ve met my son first,” she says as she walks away
“Vera, may I speak with you?”
“What?” She pits back as she lifts her head from her hands
He clears his throat, fighting the urge to just turn and leave if she was going to speak to him that way “I want to apologize to you,”
She raises her head further “Really,”
He nods “Yes,”
“Why?”
“Well because-“
“Your mom talked to you didn’t she?”
He doesn’t answer
Voe stands “Wow so it never even occurred to you to stop treating me like shit until your Momma came and spanked you? What I husband I have,”
“Well, she doesn’t know that she’s my mother for one,”
She squints “That’s not the point and you know it,”
“I just prefer you not put everything on me,”
“And what did I do hmm? What could I have possibly done that warrant you treating me this way?”
“You left!”
She stares at him “What?”
“You left me! And your children! They were lost without you!”
Voe doesn’t ask, but this was the one time that she could read between the lines.
“Must I remind you that I was kicking and screaming your name? I didn’t leave by choice! I was yanked away!” “For 2 years? Why didn’t you come back sooner?”
She looks at him like he’s insane, but then remembers that she never actually got to explain what happened “The Seraphim took my memories, just like your mom’s”
“Do not bring my mother into this!”
“It’s true!”
“Do you have proof?”
She drops her arms “What proof could I show you?”
“I don’t know.” He rubs his forehead “Sometimes I feel like I can trust you, sometimes I feel like I can’t,”
“We can go and ask my mother right now, she was there,”
“No, I- no. There’s no need to do that. I just want you to be happy and I apologize for being part of the reason that you’re unhappy,”
“Part of the reason?”
“Fine. The reason,”
“Alastor tell me something, am I pretty?”
He rolls his eyes “Again?”
“See? That! Why can’t you answer me?”
“Why do I have to answer it?”
“It’s been 3 months and I figured you’d be on me like an animal,”
“Well, I just have a lot of things to think about,”
“Like Willie?”
He sighs, knowing he’s caught “Willie is a friend,”
“A friend you had a moment with!”
“I- I did not have a moment with Willie,”
“Yes, you did! Everyone knows, even Cherri Bomb!”
“Why are you talking to everyone else about this? Why not ask me?”
“Are you dumb? You wouldn’t talk to me!”
“Well, I’m telling you Willie is just a friend,”
“A friend you brought to your radio station. You seem to have brought everyone up there but me!”
“Well- I uh- would you like to come up there?”
Voe steps closer “Tell me, how much prettier than me is Willie?”
“Voe please,”
“Voe? What happened to Vera?”
“Vera! Please!” he takes a step back
“What? What? My hair is pink and now I’m skinnier, and now I’m not pretty enough for you?”
“That’s not it,” he sighs
“What is it then? Hmm?” she gets up in his face “You were the only person who never treated me differently because of how I look! Everyone lets me get by because I’m pretty, but you. You let me have it, and I love that,” she yells through tears “It’s one of the many reasons why I loved you!”
The “d” at the end of ‘loved” really hit Alastor hard, past tense.
“But I guess now I’m not pretty enough for you! I guess that’s why you never told me you loved me! Cuz it was about looks for you too!” She starts to turn away and Alastor silently grabs her wrist, pulling her into his chest.
“I love you,” he whispers against her lips, then connecting them with his. “Despite it all, I love you,”
“Even after losing all this weight and having pink hair?”
“Yes,” he nods curtly
“Even after bringing your mother down here?”
“Yes,” he responds, “Despite that being an awful choice,”
“I know…” she says softly “I’m sorry. And you still love me?”
Alastor glances back over his shoulder softly. He turns to face her and cups her chin “How could I not?” She leans into his palm, and he gazes at her softly “You’re an angel now,” she nods “You’re my angel.” Alastor’s expression turns angry
“What’s wrong?”
“I refuse to let them have you,”
“What?”
Alastor pulls his wife closer to his body “They cannot have you. I do hope you enjoyed your time in heaven. You’ll never see it again,” he tilts her head up and slides his tongue into her mouth, kissing her with a fervor like a starving man eating his first meal in decades. “You are my wife. You are mine for eternity. I will not let you go. If they want you, they’ll have to go through me. I will slaughter any demons or angels that think they can keep you from me. You may be an angel, but where you belong is in my arms.”
She stares up at him “I want you so bad right now.” Voe lunges at her husband, who catches her and embraces her with his arms and his lips.
“You… you are going to be the death of me. You know that, darling?”
“Well, you’re already dead, so no need to worry about that,”
He pulls her into a deep kiss. “Time for me to finish what I started,” he whispers into her mouth
Voe reaches up and wraps her arm around Alastor’s neck “Take me,” she whispers back and puts his hand on her ass. He squeezes it and they both grin into the kiss.
“I’m used to you wearing tight clothes, not loose robes,”
Voe giggles “I’m leaving more to the imagination,”
“And the Jesus sandals?” he raises his eyebrow smirking
She laughs “I’ll admit they’re comfortable. But I’m gonna go back to my heels,”
Alastor nods, “I think that’s best,” He twirls her as if they’re dancing and they end up spinning in circles holding each other up
“I love you,” He says while he lays her on the bed
“I love you,” she responds while she pulls him down onto her.
Voe reaches up and unties his tie, biting it while she removes his coat and unbuttons his vest along with his shirt. He took his time removing her robes- to not snag her wings- along with her bra and panties and saw in all its glory her beautiful body. Yes, she was less thick than she used to be, but when he saw her ample tan breasts with perky brown nipples, all the way down her smooth stomach with chub on it, and her gorgeous cunt laced with light pink pubic hair, he didn’t know what he had been thinking, not taking her the moment she got back. Maybe he really was crazy, like they all said.
Voe on the other hand had been waiting for months to devour this man, Once his top clothing was off she ran her palms over his slightly furry chest and torso covered in sexy scars and bit her lip to help contain the lust in her loins.
“Where is your wedding ring?” she asked him again
Alastor reaches into his pocket and pulls it out, showing her. Voe punches him in the chest “I should beat you up for that!”
He raises his eyebrow “Is that really what you want to do right now?” he asks while slipping it on
She shakes her head and pulls him in for another kiss, yanking his pants down with her toes, and is very happy to see his thick cock spring up like her in the morning.
“Happy to see me, huh?” she asked before ripping off his boxers to see the full show. Thick, veiny, and brownish grey, that’s what she liked to see. Her pussy drooled at the sight of him. She flips them over and lowers herself onto his cock. She blushes and moans as the thickness splits her apart in the best of ways, while Alastor maneuvers her down onto him, trying not to be overwhelmed by the sheer warmth of her insides. She slowly starts to bounce, holding onto his shoulders, she blushes and looks away, unused to this feeling now, but Alastor makes her stare him in the eyes. Her blush takes up her entire face as she quickens her pace and he holds onto her hips. Alastor begins groaning with pleasure, nothing could compare to how his wife felt around him.
“I will,” With every bounce on his cock, Alastor growls, “Never! Never let you go!” Voe cries out in pleasure, “Who’s your husband?” He growls into her ear
“You.” She pants
“Say your husband’s name!”
“Alastor,” she breathes out
The scent emanating from her is delicious. He sniffed her like crack.
“Yes, darling, yes, scream my name, scream it more, moan it, scream it. I cannot get enough of hearing it,”
“Alastor!”
“Yes, darling, yes, that's it, keep screaming it, don't stop, I need to hear you screaming my name, I couldn't bear to hear you saying any other name but mine,”
“Uhhh Alastor!!!”
“You are beautiful. Gorgeous. I should have been on you like an animal. I crave you like an addict, needing you again and again like air to breathe. I want you constantly, craving to touch you, to hold you. To know that forever you are mine,”
Voe continues bouncing and Alastor thrusts into her cunt at maximum force and speed
He continues whispering as he kisses all over her gorgeous naked body, “You can't even comprehend how deep this obsession of mine runs... how the craving for you is constant, how the need to claim you as mine, to make sure everyone knows it and that they can never take you from me, is so strong it's almost painful to hold back from just taking you right there every time I see you!”
“I-uh Alastor!! I need you! I want you I- mmmfuck!”
“You don’t have to say a thing. Your husband knows what you mean,” he smirked
She wanted to look annoyed, but the pleasure of his cock twitching inside of her cunt make it impossible to do anything but moan.
“Look at me my love,”
Voe lowers her head and looks at him, into his crimson eye.
“Cum for your husband,”
Voe lets the wave crash over her twitching and leaking all over his crotch. She buries her face into his neck and pulls him closer to her.
“I missed you,” he whispered
“I missed you,” she replied
“I didn’t want to admit it, but you had me the moment you walked into the hotel,”
She looks up at him and her eyes shine “Really?”
He nods once “Yes,”
The next morning Voe strolls through the parlor, unable to keep the large grin off her face
“Well, look who got laid,” Angel smirks.
“That’s right, missionary accomplished,” Voe tells him as she cackles up at the ceiling.
“Boo! Boo!” he responds to her joke, smiling all the while
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin#original character#alastor the radio demon#headcanon#the radio demon#biblically accurate angel#seraphim#hazbin sera#hazbin emily#hazbin hotel emily#emily hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel headcanon#alastor's mom#alastor's mother#angels#demons#wings#angels and demons#hell#heaven#hazbin hotel lucifer#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#hazbin hotel charlie#charlie morningstar
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No thoughts. Only early twenties dad Bruce and Clark and their two hundred thousand year old god boyfriend (OC) caring for their new son. Connor is an OC of mine not the DC character of the same name LOL
Connor: I am gone for a week, visiting my family and you two adopt a child?! I swear I can't leave either of you alone.
Bruce: *Internally panicking because this was NOT how Connor was supposed to find out.*
Clark: Don't be like that Connor! He lost his parents in an accident, he needed us! Look at how happy he is.
Dick: *Eight years old and hyped up on sugar because brooding gothic man child and alien farm boy himbo do not know how to properly care for a child and Alfred is also away. But is giving Connor the biggest, toothiest, heart melting grin ever*
Connor:........................ We are talking about this later. But for now I am taking my son to get some real food and buying him whatever he wants.
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Connor: *In the middle of a literal intergalactic war*
Bruce: *On the phone* Hey Connor? We need your help.
Connor: Kinda busy at the moment!
Clark: Dick won't fall asleep. He says he can't without his papa telling him goodnight.
Connor: Give me five minutes.
*Insert various killing noises and people begging for mercy here*
Connor: Alright put him on.
Bruce: Here ya go bud.
Connor: Hey bubba, I hear you're having trouble falling asleep. What's wrong?
Dick: I-I miss you.....
Connor: Awe I miss you too bubs, I'll be home soon okay? I'm just a little busy right now.
Dick: But you've been gone for so long!
Connor: I know sweetheart. I don't like being away from you this long either, but this is really important and I couldn't ignore it.
Dick: When will you come home?
Connor: Well if you go to sleep right now I can use my magic to get home early. But only if you go to sleep!
Dick: Promise?
Connor: I promise bubba. Now go to bed.
Dick: I will! Night papa!
Connor: Goodnight.
Bruce: What did you say to him I don't think I've ever seen him move that fast to get to bed.
Connor: I just promised him something. Now I gotta go, things are getting heated again.
*Connor proceeds to commit hundreds of war crimes that most definitely violated multiple laws that would definitely have him executed of many planets just to get home to Dick.*
Clark: *Very surprised with seeing Connor at the manor's front door* I thought you were off planet?
Connor: I promised Dick I'd be home soon. Had to keep my promise.
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Connor was in National city having lunch with Kara and Alex when he heard the faint sound of a voice in the distance.
"Wait shhh I hear something." Connor said trying to hush the sisters.
"I don't hear anything." Kara said straining her super hearing to scan the city.
"No I definitely hear it. I think it's.......... Dick?" Connor said confused as to why he was hearing his son.
He strained his super hearing more to try and hear Dick more clearly.
"PAPA HELP!" Dick screamed.
Connor immediately stood up from his seat and made his way towards the door concerned for Dick. Without saying goodbye to Kara and Alex or explaining why he suddenly left Connor quickly took to the skies flying at Mach speed to get back to Gotham.
"PAPA HELP PLEASE!" Dick screamed again.
"Shut it pipsqueak. Ain't no daddy of yours coming to save you" The kidnapper growled in annoyance.
"Say that again." Connor said.
The kidnapper turned around and came face to face with Connor who glared at the man his eyes glowing blood red. Connor grabbed the kidnapper and threw them to the side before rushing over to Dick.
"Are you okay bubba? Did they hurt you?" Connor asked worriedly checking over the young boy.
"I'm fine papa." Dick replied.
"Alright, close your eyes I don't want you seeing this." Connor said.
Dick nodded and did as hew as told. Connor stood up and turned back around to face the kidnapper.
"You took my child, you tied him up, and while you may not have hurt him, you threatened to harm him and that is something that will never go unpunished." Connor said.
After a while Connor walked back over to Dick and picked him up.
"Alright Dick, let's get you home bubba." Connor smiled.
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This AU has me in a chokehold now. Connor is a character of mine and I've been filled with gay superbat brainrot so this is the result. I also have thoughts for Jason's death so expect that soon. Anywho it may not be the best but meh I'm happy with it.
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Scandalous || Michael Jackson
Michael Jackson x OC
-> Chapter I ''Beginning'' -> general masterlist -> Michael Jackson masterlist
Chapter II ''Little diva''
In her twenty-one years of life she already had done many nervous things and was beginning to deal with one of the worse things in her life, but that day she felt more stressed than ever. And it was just because she had a special guest.
"Lady, get down." Rosalie said to her kitten.
A ball of fluff was little, but already had its harsh character. If she wants to do something, she will do it. No matter what. And if she wanted to get on the coffee table in the living room and push something off it, she would. Rosalie quickly picked her up in one hand and her tea cup with the other, and walked to the kitchen.
"Be nice, I have a special guest today." she said, as if white kitten could understand her. She adopted her short after her photoshoot for some fashion magazine that wanted her to promote their new collection. She posed with this little kitten and decided to take her. She named her 'Lady' and now they lived together, wherever Rosalie goes, Lady goes with her.
Once she had put away her cup, she held the kitten with both her hands, giving her a bunch of kisses. Why did she even call her 'Lady'? Well, at first because she was so well-behaved despite flashes and noise. But after she took her home, this name became more sarcastic. Lady loved attention and was ready to throw things from shelves or use her claws to get it when wanted.
Back to the situation, everything had to be perfect. She cleaned even after a cleaner went out, to be sure everything was perfect. She already was a few times at Michael's place, but today he was coming over to her, and she felt her stomach being a knot because of it.
She heard a soft meow from her fluffy friend and held her higher in front of herself.
"What?" she frowned, but then Lady meowed again and Rosalie looked over her shoulder, to see 'Bad' vinyl standing proudly on the chest of drawers. "Shit...!" she muttered under her breath, put Lady down and quickly went to take away the album.
I remember throwing it under my bed and begging that Lady won't pull from under there and my bedroom. Luckily, Lady wasn't big enough to jump to the handle and open the doors back then, so none of these could happen.
Not too long after she had hidden the album and checked her make-up and clothes in the mirror, Michael was there.
It's not like I was stressed because I didn't know what to say or do. Quite the opposite, we already talked pretty much since the grammys. Even spent some nights on the phone, when I was barely awake, but he couldn't sleep, so I forced myself to not leave him. And beside all that - you really can talk about basically everything with him. I was nervous, because I wanted to look perfect. At that time things between me and Billy were getting... for now let's say: hard. I stopped caring much about my appearance while I was with him, but Michael? Staying at home I put make-up on, that says everything.
Only to later on hear from him, that he prefers me without all this.
The first thing that greeted him beside Rosalie, was Lady, that was looking curiously at the new face. Well, a bit new, as she saw the album covers before Rosalie pushed them under her bed... She looked up with her big, blue eyes, listening to the conversation between the two humans. But its biggest interest was Michael's fedora, which he was currently holding in his hand, as he hugged Rosalie with the other.
"How was your day?" Rosalie asked first. Usually it was Michael who asked such a question at the start of a conversation. For him these words were a positive surprise, for her: a small victory that she was finally faster.
"Good, nothing new." He left his fedora on the coffee table and walked after Rosalie to the kitchen, even if she insisted that he can sit on the couch and wait for her to bring the tea - you can't work without good tea. Good tea or orange juice, when it comes to Michael. But I didn't know it yet back then.
As both of them disappeared in the kitchen, Lady jumped on the couch in the second try and was preparing to make her way on the table.
"I can do it." Michael said, while opening the shelf and reaching for a cup.
Rosalie patted his hand away playfully. He was her guest, not the other way around. She even pushed him away with her hip as she was reaching for the cups, which made him chuckle.
"No, you better sit down and let me do it." she glanced at him briefly and saw his little pout.
Whole Michael. A gentleman, eager to do things for you. You could be treated like a guest in your own home. But even out of that he was polite, opening doors and letting me first through it, pulling out a chair, giving me his jacket if I was cold, holding my hand - sometimes giving its back a kiss.
About kisses, I never asked, but I think he likes kissing my hands and forehead the most. Personally, I love the latter the most. Nothing makes me feel safe and loved more than a good hug and kiss on the forehead. Somehow it happens to be more personal to me than a lip kiss, even french one.
Or maybe it's more about hugs than kisses. When he first hugged me in a friendly gesture, I just gave in and didn't think about anything, but was sad when he let go. And the second time... Okay, I'll admit it, I smelled him. And I never forgot the smell of his cologne. But in my defense I will add that at the same time, he discreetly nuzzled his nose in my hair and smelled it. Michael never told me that, but before our next time seeing each other, I changed my shampoo and after we hugged shortly he asked "You changed your shampoo?" before giving it a second thought. Seeing him hiding his blush I just chuckled and waved it off with a simple "Emergency situation" and got back to using my previous shampoo, as I heard a slightly sad undertone in his words.
"You don't know how much sugar I like in my tea." Michael said, crossing arms on his chest. When she turned around to look at him again, she met his brown eyes again. She mocked his pout from a moment ago and approached to push him out of the kitchen.
"Then let's assume I don't have sugar and the problem is solved." Funny thing - she remembers him actually not adding any sugar to his tea (if he happened to drink it instead of orange juice).
Michael chuckled again, especially at her motivation to get him out of the room.
There was this strange thing, sometimes he would make her shy easily, and other times not. It was all about his attitude at the moment. If they were alone, he usually was bolder to initiate and keep eye contact, joke around and smile widely. If other people were around, he wouldn't like to make it obvious he keeps his eyes on her. Yes, he would still smile, joke, and do all the other small gestures, but much more carefully.
What's funnier, Rosalie didn't realise he was often flirting with her. She thought he was just nice. Nothing more nothing less. He was nice with his fans, with his friends, with people around him, so he was also nice with her.
She successfully got him out of the kitchen, but when the tea was ready. But she managed to make him accept that she will take both their cups.
"You like to bake?" he asked. Reason for this question was apple pie that was on the kitchen counter. He didn't eat sugar, but liked apples. And if she baked that, maybe he'd take just a little piece to try.
"Sometimes." She answered, putting cups on the coffee table while looking over her shoulder at Michael. Actually, she baked with the thought of him coming over. She didn't really know what he likes, so she did something she thought would be rather universal. She was about to propose him a piece, but then looked at the table and fedora.
Michael looked in the same direction and they both saw Lady laying comfortably in the hat and probably sleeping. She was perfectly visible as her fur was white and fedora black. When they went silent they even heard her soft purring through sleep.
Rosalie didn't know what to do or say. She would take her away, but she was sleeping... But what if Michael didn't like that? After all it was his hat that Lady chose to be her bed right now.
"It's alright." he said quickly, seeing Rosalie getting embarrassed. "What's its name?"
"Lady."
"She's so cute." he sat on the couch and gently moved his hand through Lady's fur.
It didn't make Rosalie any less embarrassed, but what could she do? At least Michael didn't mind a cat sleeping in his fedora - and probably leaving its fur there. Even when they were working, from time to time they glanced at the kitten, especially when it was making a sound by changing its position. After some time Lady woke up and found out it's harder to get out of the hat than getting in was. She let out a soft meow, demanding help. Rosalie quickly got up and took her out with the intention of taking her to her bedroom and closing the doors so she won't embarrass her again.
"Can I hold her?" and if not this question, she would do as she thought.
"Of course, if you're not afraid of getting fur on yourself." she gently gave Michael Lady and he put her on his lap, smiling at the little cat and then petted it tenderly.
"You didn't say you have a cat."
"You didn't ask." she shrugged, smiling at how they seemed to like each other. Luckily, because her little diva was rather rude when she didn't like someone. Billy stopped liking Lady after she pissed on his shoes. But Billy was different, she herself was liking him less and less, but somehow standing him as her manager. "For real, I adopted her not so long ago, that's probably why. Be kind, little one." she leaned and also petted the cat on Michael's lap. Almost immediately it shifted and showed its belly, purring happily when receiving tender pets there.
You could think this 'little diva' - as we sometimes call her - was indeed really nice and just greedy for pets. Well... No.
When the time came for Michael to leave, Lady was looking up from the floor, keeping her little tail up. She watched as this nice man that was giving her so much attention today puts his fedora on and hugs Rosalie for a goodbye. She didn't want the nice man her owner called 'Michael' to leave already. She would like some more attention from both humans. And especially the hat. He dared to take away her new bed.
She meowed, but not loud enough to be heard. So she made her way to the couple, extended her claws and placed her paw on Michael's trouser leg, pulling it. That maybe wasn't heard, but surely felt by Michael and he looked down to see the kitten trying to climb up his pants - in the process, destroying them a bit with its claws.
"Lady!" Rosalie scolded the little cat.
I wanted ground to swallow me at that moment. Only if I knew that's not the last piece of Michael's clothing she would destroy.
"You little tease." he chuckled and crouched to separate Lady from his pants. Then he stood up again, holding her in front of him. "They say cats are like their owners." he said playfully, even a bit flirtatiously, but Rosalie was too bemused to hear the latter.
"Sorry. Really, sorry. She can be rude sometimes."
"She just couldn't let go, like some fans." seeing her embarrassment - like with the hat situation - he wanted to turn it all into a joke. After all it's just pants, it's not a big deal, he has much more clothes and always can buy new ones. "It's okay, really. Don't worry." he smiled and kissed her temple to reassure her that indeed everything is alright.
"Then I better take her away before she digs her claws in your hands, not just clothes." she took the kitten that looked up at both of them innocently. "Troublemaker." Rosalie felt a bit better after Michael's reassurance and said this word to the cat in a playful tone, wrinkling her nose and then giving Lady a kiss.
"Maybe she felt left out." he leaned a bit to give Lady one final pet before leaving. "Bye little diva. Bye big diva." he directed these last words to Rosalie, winking at her.
After the doors closed, she sighed deeply and looked at the kitty in her hands, shaking her head.
"Cats are like their owners, huh?" Lady answered her with a meow, rubbing her owner's hand with her head. "You like him, don't you?" she sighed again, but this time in a different tone, thinking about Michael. "Well, me too. Who doesn't?"
#michael jackson#applehead#mj#michael jackson fanfic#michael jackson fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#writer#writing#ao3 writer#wattpad writer#wattpad#ao3#moonwalker
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Whump Prompt #1081
TW: Suicide Attempts
Anon asked:
How are you with the prompt of a character... almost committing unalive before being stopped by somebody?
I think about this a lot. I’ve for sure written scenes like this (posted under the cut). I sort of live vicariously through it; it’s cathartic almost to receive the non-judgemental help from fictional characters when you yourself aren’t doing too well sometimes.
So prompts-wise:
Your character is embarrassed when they’re found. They’re so open and vulnerable that they can’ t help but feel awkward and uncomfortable when they’re found.
Is the caretaker angry? Are they shouting? Does this make your whumpee even more embarrassed?
Is the caretaker quiet - almost too quiet. Are they scared? Does your character feel shame for this?
Do they pass out before help arrives? How does the caretaker find them? Are they bleeding? Are they seizing? Are they choking? Are they drowning? Does the caretaker administer CPR?
Who sits in the waiting room? Who is kicking themselves thinking: “How the hell did I not see this?”
Instead of screaming “why did you do this?” your caretaker, with a sad amount of understanding, says “I’m going to help you.” They’re resolute. They don’t want your character to feel even more of a burden.
Does your character leave a note? Or do they just... get up and leave without the intention to harm themselves, but find that that’s where they’ve ended up.
Write that character spiralling. They go from numb to their skin prickling with overwhelming emotion.
How scared is your character when they inevitably wake up? Are they confused? Who do they wake up to?
If they’re found before they try anything; perhaps the caretaker takes them to a nearby restaurant; to get them food and out of the cold. Maybe this is where your character finally opens up.
This is an excerpt from my WIP book Hologram that I wrote a few years ago now. TW again for attempted suicide.
If anyone’s every interested about my OC’s feel free to ask...
"Is this it?" A voice from beyond the door questioned.
"Yes, but sir..." the doctor hesitated. "Just remember what we told you."
"He's not in his mind. I know."
"Just pretend you know what he's talking about, it'll make the transition smoother. We'll be down the hall if anything happens." A third voice warned, the tone of which Mitchell recognised as his doctor. The door opened and a figure stepped in.
The visitor had been warned about his friend; how he was no longer in his mind, how he'd been kept in a vegetative state for thirteen years... they warned him about how he'd look, and the visitor had steeled himself to stomach the image of his friend laying prone on the bed. At worst he expected a tube to be shoved down his throat: for his body to be corpse like and attached to a range of alien machines... hell he'd even pictured the idea of Mitchell's body carved open and stitched together under bloody bandages, his thin, pale white skin stretched over his skeleton and protesting against every flex of muscle.
Perhaps he anticipated a disturbing stillness that accompanied a person close to death and on the brink of collapsing into their own mind. After the initial explosion; when the visitor had to be hospitalised they told him they never found the body. He begged and cried but they insisted that his friend was gone; well and truly disintegrated into clumps of viscera that were washed away when repairs inevitably began on the building. He cried some more when they lowered an empty casket into his grave, he wasn't there, no, he was still laid up in hospital, but his absence then just sparked the desire for his presence now.
He had to be there for his best friend; he was the last tie to sanity he had.
So when he rounded the door into the private room, anticipating an older, corpse like version of his childhood friend, his heart sank when his expectations weren't met.
Instead, the events before him were so much worse.
See, when the short British man slithered into the room... he did not expect to see his own friend preparing to slice the veins on his wrist with a scalpel.
At his gasp, Mitchell's head swooped up and he faltered, staggering back so his bare skin was touching the plated wall. All wires had been disconnected, and hung loose over the edge of the bed. The scalpel remained firm In his shaking grasp. The Child’s eyes darkened as the visitor spoke, choking on his words at the fragility of the man before him.
"Hey Mitch." He stammered, paused just a few feet from the hunched over frame. Mitchell closed his eyes and huffed through his nose and angling his head away. The blade didn't move from where it was poised over his pulsing, black vein.
"Oh fuck off!" He groaned, "for Christ sake I thought this shit would stop after... for fuck sake, please just go away."
"Good to see you too." The brown haired man swallowed.
"You always see me, you won't leave me alone." Mitchell's sentence gave him pause.
"What do you mean?" He asked cautiously.
"'The fuck d'you think? You're dead and my fucked up brains been manifesting you and whoever else as a way to torture me. We had this conversation before, you dumb fuck!"
"Oh..." the short man sighed, "Oh man..."
He'd been warned about the simulated dreams, though no one knew for sure what occurred in them. Their heart shattered upon the realisation of the emotional torture Mitchell must have suffered as a result. When the fabric of reality is torn from underneath you like a rug... it was no surprise that Mitchell was grasping at threads; desperately trying to tie knots with his shaking hands.
"I just want it to stop." He uttered pitifully, the grip on his knife tightening further as he brought it closer to the blackened vein beneath the pale skin of his wrist.
"I'm sorry, but it all just needs to stop."
Out of options, and knowing Mitch wasn't the negotiating type, he didn't hesitate to dive forward and get a secure grasp on his arm.
And Mitchell stopped.
He stopped moving. He stopped breathing. His blood ran cold and his body turned rigid as though his joints were replaced with concrete. With wide, grey eyes he stared at the intrusive hand as though it had grown more fingers, he exhaled, shaky, as though terrified of moving. His face contorted in an expression of horror and bewilderment.
Mitchell could feel him. He could actually /feel/ him on his skin.
And he wasn't just a mental presence, his calloused fingers added a welcome texture, his skin was clammy with anxiety and uncertainty, and the grip felt tight and reassuring. The blond had to physically force back the tears as this - this was all real. Static crashed against the walls of his skull, sloshing and frothing as though trying to escape but he held on tight. He held on tight to the feeling and the reality he had been presented with. When his mind cleared a little, he uttered the first word that fell onto his tongue, the word that hadn't left him; the name that was always in his mind.
"J-Jack?" He stammered.
"Yeah?" The visitor ventured. "It's me, Mitch."
"You're alive." He stated, bewilderment thoroughly overtaking his grief stricken features.
"Yeah." Jago ‘Jack’ Davis said with a light scoff, his nervous energy forcing him to find the tragic situation humorous. "So are you."
"You're not dead. you're- you're actually real."
"Yeah, mate."
Mitchell launched into a bone crushing hug, scalpel since discarded on the tiled floor. It fell with a clatter that neither man heard.
"You're alive." He continued to babble. "Holy shit you're alive."
"I know, I'm here, god I missed you..." he said into Mitchell's tangled hair, wrapping his arms around his trembling torso.
"I missed you too." Mitchell said, returning the gesture as the floodgates opened and he allowed himself to sob un-apologetically.
"I missed you so fucking much." He hiccuped.
#tw: suicide#tw: suicide attempt#tw: self harm#tw: self destruction#caretaker#angst#hurt#comfort#writing#prompts#whump#vulnerability
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Sacred
Chapter 1
Nikto x Donut (OC)
We don't talk to each other. Despite both being operators for KorTac and being assigned on missions together regularly, when it's just us, we don't talk. I don't say anything to anyone without them saying something first, and he usually is talking to the voices in his head.
Maybe that's why we get assigned to missions together. The quiet one and the crazy one.
Of course, I don't think he's crazy. He says so himself, that the voices are the crazy ones, and he's perfectly sane.
So very sane.
Every step, every breath of his is perfectly calculated. Every twitch of his finger on the trigger, every stab of his knife- the knife I want so badly. I want that knife in my hands, the weight of it in my palm. I think he'd kill me if he knew, and with a bullet, just to make sure I'd never feel the cold metal of his blade against my flesh.
That's just the kind of killer he is.
Maybe it was the torture that made him so brutal. The same torture that left his mind broken and skin warped. I only know because I've seen him in the showers.
Maybe that's why he showers at two in the morning, when no one is around to see him. I feel horrible for even thinking about it.
It was the first week, too. My first week there, and I already broke a rule I wouldn't make until that morning. A taboo that was probably in place long before I got there, though.
We had just met- or, we had been introduced.
"Emery, you'll be working with Nikto for this next assignment."
At least he didn't tell him my stupid nickname-
"Nikto, this is Donut."
Fuck, fuck fuck fuck.
But Nikto didn't really care, only really half listening. Thinking back, he was probably having a different conversation altogether. One I didn't get to hear, and one I'll probably never get to know.
He didn't ask me any questions, and I didn't ask him anything either. The entire mission was carried out in almost complete silence, I could hear my thoughts echo in the room.
When we got back, there was the usual fuss. Everyone had a bar in mind or the rules to a card game at the ready. I sat there, drinking a soda and observing black jack from a safe distance, when I saw him staring. That's the only time I've seen him surprised. I can only guess what he was thinking.
"It's not just me, he hates everyone."
Probably something along those lines.
It didn't change how he treated me, though, which was the way he treated everyone else. And I treated him the same.
But I didn't think of him the same.
He was like a god on the battlefield, like Ares himself descended onto the scorched earth, and the voices in his head are Deimos and Phobos, jeering and and screaming, begging him to stop, or to keep going.
I never prayed to a god before him.
Now, I pray to him every night. I beg for his eyes to fall upon me, for his skin to touch mine. I want his thoughts to be consumed by me the way he consumes mine.
I wonder if he prayed before all this. What kind of upbringing did he have? Was his family religious? What did they deem sinful? Does he still believe in those things?
How does he feel about homosexuality?
I still don't know my own opinions. On the one hand, it's an easy punching bag around here. Gay is an insult. Keep it to yourself. It's a sin, unnatural, gross- it's wrong.
On the other hand, I'm pretty sure I'm a homosexual. I want him, I want his body, his soul. I want his voice whispering into my ear and his fingers digging into my skin. I want to penetrate him. I want him to penetrate me. I've never even considered these kinds of things before, but now I daydream of another man's semen. Maybe the homosexuals themselves wrote it to be against their god, for only one consumed with this kind of lust could know how deep this sin has rooted within me.
I don't think any of this is right. But I tried imagining myself with a woman- him, with a woman, and I almost cried. Almost.
This definitely isn't right. I want to stop thinking about him. Stop imagining his eyes, his scars, the way his muscles fight against the fabric of his flight suit, stop rubbing the crotch of my pants at the sound of his voice to chill the sweltering heat-
I want to stop walking down this hallway, stop- stop and go back to your own room, stop walking towards his. But I'm too far gone.
His door is right there. Right there.
And I'm knocking.
Chapter 2
Masterlist
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can you talk about any of ur ocs more??? :)) I love hearing about them ♡
oc time!!! again
Florian and Ilya time??? Florian and Ilya time
like I’ve mentioned before Flor and Ilya really butt heads in the beginning. Florian was a Raven and Ilya has not had good experiences with them at all. On top of that, Flor has an attitude intended to cover up his many issues and Ilya, while an absolute sweetheart, can dish it just as well as he can take it
it takes them a hot minute to get along and it’s largely because Jude gets sick of Mara and Ilya being at each other’s throats and begs Florian to play mediator cause he’s snarky but he’s nowhere near Mara’s level. They end up with an odd sort of truce. They have each other’s backs but they’re not really friends
The first big thing for them is when Mara decides that she’s done with the ravens partner system. She and Florian have been intensely codependent and while Mara’s reached a point in therapy where she’s ready to try and let it go, Florian’s really not. He spirals without the partner system. Emiko can’t take that spot. It’d be too unhealthy for her. She’s largely ditched the partner system but still spends majority of her time around people and keeping an eye on Mara and Florian. Jude adores Florian but he does think he’d go crazy being attached at the hip to the kid. Essentially, that leaves Ilya. Who is a mostly willing participant cause I swear he really is a little sweetheart.
Suddenly they’re attached at the hip fucking everywhere. Flor’s press duty isn’t with Mara anymore, it’s always Ilya. Ilya gets a little too far and Flor’s losing focus on whatever he’s doing to look for him and make he’s still within sight.
I don’t have them developed in the same way I have Merr and Jude just because it’s kind of hard for me to pinpoint when exactly Ilya and Florian get together but it’s still fun to think about.
Florian’s generally pretty affectionate regarding physical touch (regarding people who are willing to give it at least. he’ll rarely ever ask but he enjoys it) and so he and Ilya ended up touching a lot of the time. A brush of the hands, an arm around his waist, holding hands for a split second. It’s not uncommon to see them just pressed against each other, seeming to be literally attached at the hip.
I think when they get together there’s never really a label put on it. They spend so much time together that things just start happening. Suddenly they’re cuddling, then they’re holding hands, when Ilya asks if he can kiss him it just feels natural to say yes. They don’t define what they are but they know it’s exclusive and they’re not seeing other people and they also know it’s private. And for awhile they do a good job at keeping it from their teammates because to everyone else that’s just how they act. They keep it from the press even longer because their dynamic changes completely once they’re in front of a camera. Banter and insults and jabs about their performance on the court. People think they have some weird rivalry going on that carried over from their time playing collegiate exy against each other. It’s all in good fun for them though. They still snark at each other and bicker off camera too, but the difference is that’s the only part the camera sees of them.
I’ve mentioned before that eventually they end up on rival teams, when Florian’s eventually willing to let go of the partner system a lot, and it really fuels the idea that they hate each other. The two of them kind of get a kick out of it. Cause at first it’s not like they were even close to being friends so maybe once upon a time the media’s perception of them was closer to the truth but now it’s the furthest thing from it.
Ummmmm I’m trying to think of anything else I want to hit on but truly this has been sitting in my drafts for so long and I know I need to just post it soon. I’m so sorry, anon. Istg I wasn’t just ignoring you. So yeah this is very incomplete, nowhere near Merr and Jude level explanation, and maybe I’ll give a proper explanation of these two at some point. In the meantime this just needs to get posted because I’ve let it sit for like a week and I feel mean now
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