#OC kiss week 2018

[imaginaryf1shots]

My Girls (||) | Max Verstappen

Words count: 3072

Driver!OC X Max Verstappen

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

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A new beginning 

Both Max and Cecilia followed each other’s carriers.

When Cecilia then got pregnant with her ex’s, Mathew’s, daughter she watched as Max made it into F1, she was jealous yes, she wanted to race to reach her dreams, she wanted to be the first F1 female champion. 

“What do you want to do?” Her dad asked her as he watched his daughter hold his granddaughter. He never expected to have his little girl as a mother this young, her ex signing all his rights away before they baby was even born, leaving the father's name on the birth certificate empty. A single mother at the age of 18.

“Whatever you decide, we’ll support you.” Her mum told her holding her hand, her girl just gave birth after a long pregnancy, she looked tired but content. 

“I want to keep her.” She whispered looking at her girl, she had wisps of blonde hair, the same hair Cecilia and her father shared. Already looking like her, she whipped her tears away and looked up at her parents. “And I want to race.”

“It’s going to be hard.” Her dad warned her, she needed to know the challenges facing her, if she decided to do that then it’s going to be one of the hardest things she ever did. 

“I know, but I want to do it for her, I want her to know that she can achieve all her dreams, I want her to proudly say that I’m her mum, to never feel like any less because her dad isn’t in the picture, I want to do it for her.”

“And you will, we’ll work it out and help you as much as you need.” Her mum kissed her forehead and pushed her hair out of her face, her lovely daughter. Her sweet and strong daughter. 

Once Cecilia was given the green light by her doctors, she was back on track and in gyms. Her family’s home gym was upgraded, she had everything she needed there. The only time the girl used her uncle’s connections was when he helped her get back into competitions, getting into F2 was easy once she showcased her abilities that improved in her time off. Mclaren’s junior team snatched her up and she drove for them for a year before she was set as the reserve driver for them in 2018, she raced for the team in a free practice in the Germany, a track she hadn’t drove in her carrier, the woman was on the sim everytime she could as she prepared for the race, she wanted to impress not only Mclaren who had her on yearly contracts for now, but also everyone else, women belonged in the motorsport and she’s going to show it. She wants more skilled females racing, she wants her daughter and all the young girls growing up to see girls like them racing and winning. 

In 2019 she had her seat, driving for the first time in an F1 car that was made for her. Making it as the first female F1 driver since the 90s. Getting a place is one thing, keeping it is another thing, all the other females before couldn’t keep their seats for long but she planned to stay racing no matter what. 

When it was announced you better believe it turned into a media circus. The female had gone through grilling PR and media training, going through every question she could’ve been asked. She’s ready to face the fire.

The season kicked off in Australia, once the media saw the Mclaren making its way to the park at the entrance they crowded the area, wanting to get a glimpse of the female driver or even her teammate. Mclaren is doing a lot of unseen things with two new drivers this year. When Cecilia got out of the car she was given for the week, she smiled at the cameras, she was sporting Mclaren merch with a pair of blue jeans, wanting to be as neutral as she could until the media got used to her, if she wore any of her clothes the team speculated that they’ll focus on that and take away from her abilities. 

It’s media day and she had a lot of interviews to go through, making her way to the entrance. One of Mclaren’s press officers walked with her, there weren't that many fans of her around so she only signed a few things before she made it inside. Going to the paddocks where there was a quick meeting with her and Lando before they start their media duties.

Standing a little to the side she waited for the drivers doing the interview to finish before the new batch did theirs, her and Lando were split up for this section, thankfully she saw Charles coming her way, they both grinned when they saw each other, hugging the other tightly when he made it to her.

“Mon Dieu, tu m'as manqué.” She said in French, they pulled back Charles’ dimple evident on his face. (Oh god I missed you)

“Tu m'as manqué aussi, je suis si heureuse que tu sois là.” Charles replied to her they stood talking in French, Checo and Daniel walked in too they heard the pair talking in French they couldn't keep up with them so they left them talking after they greeted each other, the last to join is Max. (I missed you too, I'm so happy you’re here.)

When he saw her standing there he had to take her in, they’re no longer the teenagers they were when they used to Kart, gone the baby faced Cecilia and in her place stood a grown woman, hair longer and light makeup on her face, her hair loose, he only evers saw her in braids growing up.

It’s been years since Max saw Cecilia last, he knew she was the reserve driver for Mclaren, everyone knew, but they never ran into each other, both lived in Monaco but he never ran into her there either. He knew she’d make it into F1, it took her longer than he thought but she made it. His childhood rival made it into F1 to be one of his rivals, he can’t wait to race her on track once again.

There it is again, his heart speeding up, his eyes coming back to her every few seconds. He thought he grew out of his feelings for her, but evidently not. Once again she’s standing with Charles speaking in french his french isn't a match for the Monégasques. When Cecilia took her eyes off her best friend’s they fell onto the dutch driver.

“Max.” She called for him, he looked from Daniel to her, that smile she had when she was younger, he remembers the last time they talked and how rude he was to her, but that was years ago, a lifetime ago it seemed. “I haven’t seen you in years.”

They didn’t hug, like her and Charles, but her smile was enough for him. Cecilia couldn’t help but take him in too, she’s seen him on TV of course but the real thing is always different. She wonders how she hasn’t run into him before.

“Yeah, last time I saw you, you were almost as tall as I was.” Rolling her eyes at his joke, she’s taken her height from her mother, her father’s side of the family were all tall, leaving her the shortest of the bunch, she wasn’t that short but she always looked short next to her family members, she’s 165 not that short but whatever.

“Wow Verstappen, not all of us are born to be giants.” She joked back. “I’m not even that short, I’m average.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“You know Max is right.” Charles said with a teasing smile.

“Come on, not you too.” Cecilia groans and glares at the due. 

“It’s the truth, Cece.” Charles said and leaned down a little to be the same height as her mocking her height, she huffed and exaggerated rolling her eyes. The men laughed at her antics, she crossed her arms and walked to the two other drivers.

“I feel bullied, I’ll go talk with the nicer drivers.” She shook her head as she heard them laugh at her, her hair swinging left and right, they knew she was only joking with them. She could always take a joke.

Complaining to Daniel and Checo about the boys, they patted her back in comfort. A minute later they took their places on the sofa in front of the journalists. 

Cecilia got nervous once her feet hit the elevated platform, she’s been through all questions that could be asked, she’s trained until she could answer without a moment of hesitation. So why is it that the opposite happened, why is it that no one thought that the male filled room would agree to ignore her. They were all just too happy to take pictures of her walking into the circuit. It showed what they thought of her, she didn’t belong here, they didn't want her here, she’s only good to look at, a replacement for grid girls. The poor press officer tried to get people to ask her anything but they just ignored him. She had long since just leaned back and placed her microphone beside her, she was annoyed but she tried to act as if she wasn’t bothered. Was it working? Not 100%, people would debate whether she was bothered or not. They don’t know her well enough to go back for past experiences. 

“Cecilia, what are you looking forward to this year?” Charles asked once he answered the same question, he turned to look at the female next to him, it wasn’t hard to understand what journalists were doing. Picking up her microphone.

“I’m mostly looking forward to showing everyone what I can do.” She looked at Charles before her eyes met the main camera, looking straight on, no jokes. “I’m going to prove to everyone that women belong in F1.” She smiled then and looked at Charles. “But mainly I’m looking forward to beating you and Max like I used to do when we were young.”

This did it, both men started talking at the same time making her smile. She wasn’t asked any more questions but she didn’t mind after that, her and Charles were talking to each other when he wasn’t asked anything. She nodded along with some answers. After what felt like forever they were done. Walking out of the room she pressed the Mclaren hat on her head, an arm wrapped around her shoulders.

“Show them what you’ve got, Cece.” Daniel said to the younger female, he hated how underrated she is and people already looked down on her. People were acting like they’ve never seen her drive, F2 was filmed and aired, she drove in a FP last year, and did well, not to say how good she did in testing. 

“Planning on it.” Cecilia said with a grin, how real it is, she couldn't tell you. 

Free practice, she didn't give her all, the team planned for her to surprise everyone on qualifying day. She was seen with Sebastian talking, the man was talking with her, giving her advice not about the race but about the media. He told her how the media can go from portraying you as a villain to a hero in a few seconds, telling her that once she gets in the car she should forget all of them and just focus on driving, the german driver had seen her drive before with his own eyes, he knows how good she can be. 

When Lewis joined them, Cecilia couldn’t look him in the eye. He’d seen her last year, and they’ve never talked about it, he never asked and no news came out, but she was still scared. Plus, she looked up to him, always admired him. 

“You were a badass on Media day.” Lewis said to the female, he knew slightly of what she was going through, F1 isn’t known for its diversity, while she had the money, he had his gender, both came into the sport at a disadvantage and Lewis knew she has big potential, Seb talked to him about her before, making him watch her races before. Hearing his words made Cecilia look at him, his smile made her smile as well, a look of understanding passing them. 

Getting P9 in qualifying wasn’t bad for a rookie, on their first drive. Her team is proud of her place, knowing that tomorrow she’ll start at a good position to do even better. Even if she didn’t finish P9 then that’s some points won in her first race.

Cecilia planned to do better, if not for the helmet’s visor then people would see how the look in her eyes change the moment she starts a race. Gone is the smiley girl and in her place a woman on a mission. 

At the first corner she went up to P7, her team encouraging her to keep the pace. Drivers know each other’s techniques and how to deal with them, but the new ones are always full of surprises, and Cecilia is indeed a surprise. The female is a skilled driver, no questions asked. Going up another position, she couldn't overtake Charles but she got the fastest lap, finishing at a strong P6 winning 9 points for Mclaren.

She may have not gained a podium but her team were shouting down the radio how happy they were.

Later that day Cecilia got a text from an unknown number, she was in her driver’s room, going over the race analysing every minute. A habit that she got, it’s one of the ways she got better, after a race she’d sit down, watch and analyse and try to learn from it and then never think about it again. She could tell from the number that it’s a Monaco based number.

Unknown number 

Hey, I got your number from Charles, hope it;s okay.

Cecilia H.

Who is this?

Unknown number

Its Max

Verstappen 

Cecilia H.

It’s okay

What's up?

Max

Lando said you’re still at the circuit?

Cecilia H.

Yeah, are you still here?

Max

Yes, mind if we meet up? 

Cecilia H.

Sure give me a minute and i’ll be outside Mclaren

Max

Okay 👍

Closing the laptop she had on, still in her team kit with the cap and all, she walked out holding her packbag deciding to just leave after her talk with Max. Max was already waiting for her. The sun was almost down, only a few stragglers still there, all the media and fans already left. 

“Maxy!” Cecilia cheekily called for the man, he turned to look at her, he looked like was about to scold his younger sibling or something, making her smile even more.

“Don’t ever call me that again.” 

“Sure whatever you say, Maxy.” Cecilia teased him again, this version of Max is her favourite, the one who could joke and take a teasing. Definitely better than younger Max.

“I take it back, I’m leaving.” He turned to walk away before Cecilia held his bicep to stop him.

“Wait, wait, I’m sorry, what do you want?” She asked him quickly, he gave her a smile showing her that he knows she’d just joking. Thinking about what he wanted to say kind of made him shy, his cheeks were dusted with a pink glow and he rubbed the back of his neck for a moment. “Come on, it can't be that bad.”

“It’s not, I’m just embarrassed.” His voice dropped when he said embarrassed, just admitting that he’s embarrassed made him even more embarrassed. “You know the last time we talked…”

“Yesterday?” She asked him, frowning, trying to recall what happened yesterday, admittingly so much has happened. Maybe she said something rude without noticing or something, but nothing was coming to her mind.

“No, no when we were young, I wanted to apologise.” He said and decided to just get out and get it over with. “When you just wanted to congratulate me and I called you stupid and weird, I'm sorry about that, I didn't honestly mean it, not then and not now.”

“You scared me for a second there Max, I thought I said something.” Cecilia adjusted her hat so it won't cover her eyes as much so she’d be able to look at Max without raising her head that much. “I honestly forgot about it, we were kids, a lot of things happened since then, and you kind of forget about those small instances.”

“Still I felt the need to say I’m sorry.” Max was glad she was taking it lightly, he knew that she most likely would she hadn't held it over his head, or acted coldly towards him when they met again. “So what are you still doing here?”

“We had a post race meeting.” 

“Lando left over an hour ago.” Max frowned; they both had their things and were slowly walking to the direction of the parking lot.

“Well, it’s just a little habit I developed. After a race I would watch the race and see where I went wrong, how I can improve and what the others, who did better than me are doing.” Max nodded to her simple explanation, that alone proved to all those haters online and misogynistic journalists who refused to ask her anything. On Mclaren’s promos and any pictures of the girl, it had a copious amount of hate under it, it’s baffling to see. 

“You did great today.” Max commented and even though she disagreed she took the complement. Nothing much was said the rest of the way, and they split up going to their cars, and driving to different hotels. 

Cecilia could only think about how much Max has changed, no longer the cold boy she met before. Yes on track he is the same, wouldn't want to piss him off on track but the man in a race wasn’t the same as he was talking to her now. And he wasn't bad to look at either.

Her phone rang, her mum’s picture popped up, answering the phone while she had it connected to the car, her daughter’s voice greeted her. Her little three year old voice met her ears, making her smile.

Next ->

[callmewrinkles3]

When Emma Falls in Love - DR3 x Fem!OC

Summary: Christmas involves the same thing every year for Em. A week in Liverpool, formal clothing, and returning to her apartment to shower and have a bottle of wine to forget how bad it was. But this year she's spending it in Australia with Dan and his family. No big deal.

Words: 11.4k

Warnings: Mentions of past bad relationships, mentions of cheating, mentions of toxic family relationships. Panic attacks, worry, mentions of sex (but nothing explicit) and mentions of sex toys.

AN: HEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY remember us? First things first - apologies for how long this took. The plan was Christmas, but life has been ridiculous and too busy and we just apologise. Thank you for still being here and enjoying reading more about Em and Dan!

December 2018

When she was growing up, Em never kept a diary. She was the odd one out for many reasons in primary school, that was just one of them. She was too afraid of her mother finding it when “cleaning”, reading what was on her mind and telling her to stop. She hadn’t started it as a kid, and it didn’t begin when she was an adult either. But if she did have one, the first words on the page for December 22, 2018, would have been "I think I'm in love with Dan." And to say "I think" would have been a blatant lie because she knew.

She knew that night in the bar for his birthday that she was going to fall for him. She knew in Philadelphia as she sang that she only bought that dress for him to take off. She knew in Austin when he kissed her in front of another woman.

That morning in July when she woke up from one of the greatest nights of sleep in her life with Dan’s arms around her and his snoring lulling her back to sleep like white noise. Every single time he let Blake out of their shared taxi first and circled the block to come into hers when he got back from travelling. The way he never arrived home without a bouquet of flowers because she’d once said she never thought she could buy herself some. But that afternoon in Perth she couldn’t hide from the realisation anymore.

She’d been working in the early afternoon after she made lunch for the two of them and Isaac, coming out to find her boys napping on the couch. The plan had been for them to watch a film while they waited for her but toddlers were not known for their patience. She couldn’t blame Isaac for sleeping, and once Dan got comfy he could nod off anywhere.

The two of them had been up early that morning picking Isaac up for a day out and a sleepover to let Michelle finish getting ready for Christmas. Once they made it back to the farm it was running around and playing at the pool with a stop for lunch. Em had prepped sandwiches for their lunch before disappearing to work for a few hours so she didn’t fall even further behind. And now they were fast asleep, blond curls against Dan’s off season stubble.

The craving to curl up on the couch and cuddle into them was overwhelming. There was nothing else she wanted at that moment, just hug them and kiss Dan and stay there forever. But she couldn’t.

Yes, she was Auntie Emmy to Isaac - a fact he’d announced to them that morning running to greet her with chubby cheeks and “ANNIE EMMYYYYYYYY” - but Auntie Emmy was Uncle Dan’s friend. And nothing else.

She was just his friend. Even though she was the only one sleeping in his bed, even when he was basically living in her crappy flat in London. Even when it was her name he groaned out when they were together as he pulled her close. And that was why she couldn’t admit it to him. Admitting it to herself felt nearly too much.

It hurt. Oh it ached. But it was better to hurt a little bit and enjoy getting to have Danny in the way that so many people didn’t know Daniel Ricciardo, than say how she felt and break the spell. She could suck it up and bury her feelings and stay by his side as his best friend. If she didn’t say it out loud then it wasn’t real and if it wasn’t real then it couldn’t hurt her badly.

And she couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t see his face fall, couldn’t hear “we said we were just friends, nothing more.”. Couldn’t bear to have to leave people who for the first time in her life seemed to actually like her because she’d ruined it. So she’d stay quiet and get to have Christmas with people who seemed to want her there. She’d enjoy summer in December and have those weeks. Especially if it meant she got time with Isaac.

Em had fallen in love with him the first time she met him in real life in Abu Dhabi, and the feeling was mutual. She could count how many times she’d seen him in person on both hands, but he was as crazy about her as she was about him. His cheeky smile warmed up her heart. The way he ran to give her a hug after the first time they met was one of her favourite things in the world. How he reached out to her so she would hold him during the insanity of that first weekend. But it was the way that he was so much like Dan that made her heart grow ten sizes.

Physically they didn’t look alike apart from those curls they’d all inherited from Grace, but their personalities were identical. Dan joked it was why Isaac liked spending so much time with her, but she smiled and brushed it off. For her own sanity she couldn’t let that get into her head. She couldn’t do it. Not when whatever they were had an expiration date and she didn’t know how long it would last.

All of that combined meant she couldn’t resist watching them for an extra couple of moments, enjoying how relaxed they were snoozing together. She took a photo of them with her phone to secure the memory forever. She wasn’t sure what caused him to stir, if it was the small noise from the camera or if it was her moving, but Dan opened his eyes slowly and focused on her. A smile began to go across his face.

“Wanna join us? We can stay like this for a while.”

She desperately wanted to say yes. She wanted to lie down next to Dan and fall asleep with his arm around her. But she shouldn’t and she couldn’t. Anything that wasn’t at least platonic seeming had to stay just them. Sure Dan had put an arm around her shoulder or waist with his parents, but not with Isaac. She didn’t want that with him. He was too small and she didn’t want to confuse him with acting like a couple when they weren’t. If she couldn’t explain what was happening to herself then she couldn’t to him.

“I’m gonna get a start on dinner,” Em whispered, blurting out the first excuse she could think of. “Is pasta ok?”

The moment the words left her lips, she made her one fatal mistake. Kissing the top of Dan's head and then Isaac's cheek. It was supposed to be the briefest moment, a peck and then go to the kitchen. But the moment she leaned down to kiss Isaac's head his litttle hand reached out for her, not letting go. He didn't say anything, just grumbled and rubbed his head against Dan's chest before settling back down.

"I think you have to stay for a while. C'mon." He shifted slightly to let her slip beside them, settling down. "I know what you're thinking. It's fine."

"Danny-"

"I promise. It's fine." She should have stood straight up and headed out. Before she could even think about moving away Isaac woke up enough to smile at her, moving across to have half his body over Em, half on Dan. Then she was definitely not going anywhere, not when his tiny hand clung to her shirt to hold her there.

"I always knew he'd be a heartbreaker and steal someone's girl at some point in his life. I just never imagined it'd be mine."

"He's got that Ricciardo grin and those curls, what can I say?" Dan chuckled lowly at her words, his chest shaking as he held it back.

"That's not fair, I saw you first."

"I'm not some toy, you don't need to fight him over me."

"I mean if I need to I will." It was Em's turn to keep her laughter down, swallowing it so she didn't wake the sleeping toddler.

"No, it's fine. You don't need to."

"Just had to be sure."

She really didn't mean to fall asleep. She shouldn't have, she wanted to just stay for five minutes before carefully moving Isaac across and standing up to do something. But having Dan's chest as a pillow and Isaac as a tiny weighted blanket didn't help her. Dan smelled like the shower gel they were using and home, Isaac's baby shampoo mixing and making her feel peaceful and dozing off easily.

When she opened her eyes she thought she'd find her fast asleep boys, but instead they were wide awake. The youngest was staring at the film he hadn't finished, the oldest looking straight down at her when Em looked up.

How was she not supposed to fall in love with him? That broad smile and big eyes and how was she supposed to keep it platonic when he looked at her like she hung the moon and stars every single day. He called her his moon once and the compliment made her blush for a week. It was impossible to not fall in love with him, and that was the moment she admitted it. The way he stole tiny kisses while Isaac was distracted. She was gone.

They stayed like that for the afternoon, what was supposed to be a homemade meal turning into driving out for pizza for the three of them. Isaac stayed on her hip until they got him into a highchair, laughing and enjoying his food. She felt at home and happy and was so glad she was there.

It was why she said yes when he asked her what she was doing for Christmas and if she wanted to come to Australia with him. She missed him when he had a double header abroad, she couldn't imagine spending six weeks apart when he went home for Christmas. They could have done it and would have been fine. They'd done it before, but that was before feelings and sex and friends with benefits was added to the mix they had going on.

Em missed him back when they just texted and had a couple of calls, so she had to say yes. But it was terrifying to get on that plane with Dan to go to Perth. It took a call from Grace insisting she wanted Em there and everyone was looking forward to seeing her to make Em feel like it was ok.

Once she made the decision to go to Australia to spend weeks there with Dan it wasn't too scary, but the fact that she was introduced to Dan's world was. Especially now that she was slowly admitting that she'd fallen in love with him. Since the start Em had tried to deny it to herself, insist that it wasn't true. That she had no feelings for him apart from friendship and being proud of him.

But that was like saying the sun wasn't going to come out the next day. On those days where Em wasn't sure about it herself, he made her sure. If she didn't know better she'd think that was his own personal mission to make her fall in love with him. There were texts, calls, facetimes when he probably didn't have time. A text telling her to open the door because she had a delivery. How could she not fall for him?

The easiest way to fall in love with him was what he did every single trip home. She'd leave a sandwich in the fridge before she went to bed, and he came back to her tiny apartment. He had his own one that he could be in, he could go back to somewhere comfy and warm rather than her tiny one bed where the heating rarely worked. But he stayed with her. He took over doing things to make her life better, buying new sheets that were more expensive than she'd ever pay because they were softer and calling the landlord to make him fix the heating after he came back from Brazil and the apartment was freezing.

She couldn't help falling deeper and deeper in love with him when he slid into bed and wrapped his arms around her, whispering how happy he was to be back home. He could have been comfortable and warm in his apartment but instead he was there with her. The chill in the air was ignored as they pulled whatever clothes were on off, Dan marking her body as his. Week after week that was exactly what happened in beds around the world as she travelled to the US and Abu Dhabi to watch him race. She was starting to believe that maybe they did belong together as night after night they got into the same bed, whispering sweet nothings and bringing each other pleasure before curling up to sleep.

It's what happened at the farm when they were alone. Officially Em had a guest room to herself, but Dan's room became theirs. She spent so much of her days stepping outside of her comfort zone, it was exhausting and made her stomach ball up, but being with him was easy. Waking up with his arms around her was perfect. Getting into bed with him every night felt normal. It was terrifying and normal and brilliant. It was easy for her once she got over her worries, especially after that day with Isaac on the couch. His tiny hand over her chest became the reminder that what she thought would be a bad day wasn't so bad. It's part of why she wished Isaac could have been there the night she met Dan's friends.

She knew what coming to Australia when Dan went home for the winter break involved. And when she was invited she didn't even think about it, just went for it. She knew she was going to be introduced to his favourite places in his hometown, spending most of their nights out on the farm, getting to be around his family, and some nights out with his home friends to meet them. She could excuse herself once or twice from nights out because she was never a big fan of it, but she could let the social butterfly she was accompanying go out to hang out with people. He didn't get to see his friends for most of the year, she was more than happy to stay home with her huge to read list on her kindle or a good movie.

But Dan wanted her there. He wanted to spend time with her and his friends and have them all together, and she couldn't say no to those big brown eyes. Spending time with his family was easy, she knew most of them and those she didn't know at least knew of him. But the bigger issue was when she met his friends.

It was supposed to be easy. A get together with his mates so they could catch up and everyone who lived in Perth could finally meet the famous Em. There was just one problem.

Em wasn't good with people.

It wasn't that people didn't like her, it wasn't even that she didn't like people, it was that whenever she was around people she got tired quickly and couldn't deal with them for too long. Dan was one of the rare people she didn't hate being around for more than a few minutes. He'd promised it wouldn't be anything fancy or crazy, that she didn't need to stress about it, but she still worried.

She liked to think that it would have been different if they met somewhere else. In a bar or club where she could have made an excuse to go outside for a few minutes, be somewhere neutral. But meeting at the farm was somehow worse. Dan had told her to stay by his side and she did, but she felt like she was being a bother. He told her that she didn't need to do anything, she was a guest too, but her mother's words kept going around in her head. She should be helpful, she should be useful, she should be this that and the other. If she didn't help at gatherings then what use was she? Sitting next to Dan cutting tomatoes and onions for the burgers wasn't enough.

She shouldn't feel like she was suffocating when she was with his friends. They all seemed lovely, the guys who'd known Dan since he was a kid and told her stories about what he got up to in school, girlfriends who were genuinely sweet asking her about England and her work. But it felt like it was too much. The flickering light from the firepit and the music playing and the voices made her brain go a million miles an hour, all she wanted was to get out of there. Curl up and bed and read a book. She stood there smiling and she couldn't even lean against Dan because they were supposed to be just friends. They were friends. It's how he introduced her. Em, his friend from England. Not Emmy, that was only for him, but Em.

Nobody there had any idea that as soon as the parties and dinners were over he snuck into her bed. That when he got back from being all around the world he came to her home. She was just Em and she had no idea what she was doing there. She didn't know what they were but just friends didn't cut it anymore, and even being outside on the farm it felt like she couldn't get a deep breath into her lungs. The air slowly left her body and she could barely get it in.

She wouldn't forgive herself if she ruined Dan's night. He was so happy there, tanned and grinning as he talked to people. Em decided another beer to replace her empty one and a deep breath in the kitchen would help. Just two minutes away from the crowd. She went in, grabbed two bottles from the fridge and took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. She could do it. She'd be fine and she'd get through the rest of this night. She could do it.

"Thought you were into blondes, mate," it was clear as a bell even through the noise, a dagger hitting into Em's chest. Did she seem like just a girl?

"Shut up, it's not like that." She knew they were just friends. But hearing it like that was different. It was the straw that broke the camel's back and she didn't remember the last time she wanted to cry that badly. She wanted the ground to open up beneath her and just swallow her whole so she can hide but she wasn’t lucky enough. She blinked back tears, ignoring the knot growing in her stomach and the anxiety seeping into every pore. Em’s heart raced and she could hear the whooshing sound in her eardrums. Why was she there? The questions bubbled through her brain but that was the loudest. Why did Dan invite her there? Why was she there? Why did he want her to be in Perth?

Em couldn’t stay there anymore. If she stayed out with everyone she’d break down and start crying and the last thing Dan needed was her dramatics. She didn’t want to ruin the reunion and the good time he was having. So she took a deep breath, had a sip of her beer, and pretended she heard nothing. She just needed to keep it together for long enough so Dan didn’t suspect anything. She could smile and nod as if she didn’t care about what his mates said.

All she needed to do was pretend that she was fine, and then she could run back inside and be alone. She felt terrible just thinking about it. She couldn't do one fucking thing right and be a normal person for one night and have a normal night. It just made her feel awful for Dan because he had done everything to make her comfortable. Not just that night, but he'd changed his home so she felt at home. He insisted he was in charge of the burgers so that he could make one that was cooked the way she enjoyed it - a squirt of ketchup, one slice of cheese, wrapped in two napkins so her fingers didn't get greasy. He got her a Coke Zero or a lemon San Pellegrino so she had options when she didn't want a beer. There were even some of her favourite songs on his playlist for that night, Paramore playing out over the group. He did every single thing right. But she was ruining it all.

Em tried hiding how she was feeling but it was useless. The second she was back at Dan's side he knew something was wrong. The question was quiet, asking if she was ok, but her nod was too fast and she could tell that he didn't quite believe her. Dan's brown eyes stayed on her as she tipped the rest of her bottle back.

"Mind if I head to bed?" She was proud of how even her voice sounded.

"You sure you're ok? What's up?"

"I'm fine, just jetlagged and tired still. I'll be fine."

"See you in a lil bit?" She didn't answer him, making excuses and quick comments so she didn't start crying around new to her people. It was saying how lovely it was to meet them and saying they'd get coffee or meet before she went back to England. She was so polite and correct she almost sounded like her mother and it made her want to vomit. A final quick squeeze on Dan's shoulder and she was gone.

As soon as she was in the house she just had to do a quick trip to the bathroom, change her clothes, and go into bed. But she couldn’t go into the room she'd been sleeping in. That was Dan's bedroom and she couldn't switch the light on or people would see. So in the fading light of dusk she grabbed her pjs, the book she'd been reading, and the bottle of water she kept on her nightstand. From there she went to the guest room that was supposed to be her room. Dan had mentioned it'd be her room in Abu Dhabi, just across from his. That first night he'd insisted she didn't have to sleep there if she didn't want to and they'd ended up in his bedroom and Em didn't want to leave. But now she had to be in her own room. It'd be fine.

The last thing she wanted anyone to see was her crying. Somehow she got the door of the guest room closed without letting out a sob, panic growing in her chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She shouldn't be crying. She had no reason to cry. She knew what she was doing.

Her back slid against the door as she ended up on the ground. Her sobs turned to gasps as she struggled to get a deep breath, thoughts burning her head. She wanted to be curled up in the bed that she'd spent the last week sleeping in. She wanted Dan's arm around her, wanted to sit on his lap and sip from his beer bottle. Wanted to forget that the night had even happened. That the man who'd been sharing her bed for the last six months preferred blondes. That the man who she'd been falling in love with might not feel the same way, and they'd agreed they were just friends and said that they weren't going to break the rules and love each other but she had. She wanted her brain to shut up with the "why the fuck does he sleep with me then" that was filling her mind with doubts.

But more than all of that she wished she was brave enough to leave. Pack her bag and go to the airport and fly back to London. Because Dan deserved so much better than anything she could offer. He deserved a beautiful blonde woman who didn't freak out during a party and could afford to rent an apartment with working heating and didn't run away to hide and cry because she couldn't cope. Of course he wouldn't pick her.

But she could barely move. Somehow she managed to stand up once she'd caught her breath, pulling on her tshirt and leggings to sleep in. From there she made it to the bed, lying and pulling up the blanket to try cocoon herself as her tears kept falling. All she wanted was for Dan to magically appear and hold her to stop her chest from feeling so tight. A hug from Dan was magical, it'd make the pressure go away in no time. But he was with his friends and she didn't blame him. She was his friend. They were just friends and she had absolutely no right to be upset about it, but it hurt.

She wasn't planning on getting a lot of sleep that night. The awful feeling in her chest wasn't getting any better, her heart was still racing, and her head ached thanks to crying so much. Finally the tears stopped and she turned onto her side in the too big bed.

A knock on the door made her close her eyes and force her breathing to even out. She didn't want Dan to see her like that. She couldn't explain what she was feeling, she couldn't start rambling about it because then she'd have to admit how she felt and that wasn't going to happen. She couldn't admit that she'd broken every rule they'd come up with and fallen in love with him. She couldn't lose him. She couldn't lose his friendship and what they had so she had to stay quiet.

"Emmy? You awake?" Em should have known he wouldn't leave even if she didn't answer, listening as he padded around to her side of the bed and knelt down, his thumb brushing the still damp skin on her cheek.

**

The second Emmy squeezed his shoulder as she said she was still jetlagged and going to bed, Dan knew something was wrong. She hadn't been ok since she got back from the kitchen with their drinks, but watching her nod and fake smile as she went back inside felt so wrong. And then he stared at their room, waiting for a light to go on and the curtains to close. But nothing happened and it felt even worse.

He knew she wasn't a fan of big parties, his friends were more like him than her and were loud but she'd been ok. He made sure she was stuck to his side for the evening, she smiled when he handed her a perfectly wrapped burger made just the way she liked them. Dan knew it wasn't easy for her, she'd told him that she found big groups hard to deal with. She was the dictionary definition of an introvert who preferred to sit with a book in silence rather than be surrounded by loud people. But she was fine.

He'd asked a couple of times, not wanting to annoy her by constantly thinking something was wrong. He'd offered if she wanted to go inside and hide out for a while he'd make excuses but she insisted she was fine. Emmy ate her burger and snacked on some chips while chatting with his mates. He heard her laugh and one of the lads made a comment about how Dan kept staring at her. He was happy.

And Em was fine until she'd leaned over to offer to get him another beer when she was getting hers. He knew she heard what Mark said, his quip about blondes. The shut up didn't go fast enough and she'd been close enough to hear. She came back looking like someone had punched her in the stomach, big eyes sad even under her fake smile. There was nothing Dan could do to make her feel better.

What he wanted to do was pull her onto his lap, arms around her waist as they shared a drink. He'd tell her that yeah he'd slept with blondes before, dated some as well, but he was hers. He was so fucking crazy about her it was insane. Dan was absolutely in love with her, and terrified to say it because she could do so much better than him. They'd promised they'd stay friends, falling in love wasn't on the list.

But he couldn't even describe how much he loved her. He loved her long brown hair, the way it fell down her shoulders and back. He loved standing behind her and brushing it out to apologise for the mess he'd made it by wrapping it around his hand and pulling her hair the way that made her groan in all the right ways, using it as an excuse to kiss along her neck. He loved the way she smiled at him. How she made jokes and laughed at them herself. How she wrapped her arms around him and welcomed him home. The carefully covered sandwich that waited for him.

He didn't want any blondes. He wanted his gorgeous, brunette Wrinkles, and just maybe in the future if he was lucky enough he'd get to have gorgeous little babies with her hair and eyes and personality. He'd never, ever wanted that until now. And then it felt like she was slipping through his fingers with one evening.

She finished her beer, excused herself saying something about jetlag, was sweet and polite and so un-Emmy it hurt, and whispered to him that she was going to bed. The going to bed wasn't a surprised, she was still jetlagged and had been tired before they even got to Australia. She was the first to head to bed every night anyway. But the way she did it worried him.

Even around his family she kissed his head before she left the room to go to bed. It was what they did when there was people around and they couldn't actually kiss because of the comments. She'd move his curls from his forehead and give him a quick kiss there or on his cheek, or if he was sitting she'd kiss the top of his head. When they were alone he'd go to bed with her, but if he was staying up she'd peck his lips and wait for him in bed.

There was none of that. Instead she gave him a tiny, sad smile and squeezed his shoulder. Like they were just friends. Like she didn't share his bed every night. It was like a knife in his back, a kick in the stomach. That was enough to tell him that something was very, very wrong. He didn't expect a kiss, but he never thought that would be it.

It was all his fault, and the second he realised their bedroom light wasn't going on he knew it. She was nothing like his friends, his life was so different to hers, but he wanted his people to love her. He needed them to. He was so used to the way their lives were intertwined that he didn't think. He was so excited to be home and happy to see his friends and introduce them to her that he made the wrong choice. He should have had it at some neutral place, brought her to a bar to meet everyone. The way he'd done it when she met his family, how it was easier because it was a new place for them all. But he took the party to her one safe place in a foreign country and that wasn't fair on her.

It wasn't how he imagined the night ending. All he wanted to do was hold her. That was his plan for the night. Get into bed, hug his girl, steal some kisses, and call it a night. He wasn't even thinking about sex that night, just curling up with Em. He knew she'd be too tired to do anything and he'd probably have too many beers to make it good for her. So he wasn't even going to try to make a move. He'd hold her, sleep drooling into his pillow, and not have the alarm on so he could have a chill morning with her. Dan was too used to going to bed holding his Emmy, falling asleep with her in his arms and her hand against his chest. And then she was gone and he had the biggest hole in his chest knowing he'd ruined it all.

Dan had no idea what to do. He couldn’t kick his friends off the farm telling them his girl wasn’t ok and needed him. Firstly Em wasn’t his girl, not to them. He’d said over and over that they were friends and she was visiting. Nobody truly believed him, but it was the official story. He couldn’t make them leave but his brain was screaming that he needed to go to Em right then. Something was wrong and he needed to fix it. He needed to make sure she was ok. But all he could do was wait and yawn.

"You alright, DR?” One of the guys asked him.

“Yeah, just exhausted. Nightmare of a season if I’m honest. Looking forward to next year! Maybe I’m getting too old now I’m turning 30?” It was a half joke that got a laugh from the assembled guests. Fortunately they took it for what it was and started making their excuses to leave. An hour later he watched the last people leave as he waved. Once those lights were gone from the driveway he ran back to the house as quickly as he could get in.

His heart broke as he opened the bedroom door to find the empty room in complete darkness. When he switched the light on it was even worse, Em’s belongings still there. Her pillow, the blanket she loved, her Snorlax plushie he’d brought her back from Japan, even her Kindle. Only her water bottle and the book she was reading were gone.

It was a punch in the gut to realise the only other room she could be in was his least used guest room. The fact that Emmy thought she needed to stay in another room felt wrong. His room was their room. He’d made sure to decorate it to be similar to their room in London, parcels arriving to the farm the week before they arrived. The fairy lights, the purple curtains, the scented candles, the extra soft sheets and bed linen to make her smile. It was all for them. It was to make Emmy happy and feel like she was at home because in the back of his head there was a hope that it could be their home in the future. Dan had thought it was working, but now it felt like it was falling apart.

It took a few seconds for Dan to get the courage together to knock on the spare room door. He was scared Emmy would tell him to leave, would tell him to go away. But instead there was silence. He knocked again but the same lack of answer was the response so he decided to go in.

The room was in absolute darkness apart from the faint moonlight coming through the window. It was enough that Dan could make out Em resting on the bed, blankets up to her chin. All Dan wanted to do was get into bed with her, to spoon against her and hold her close, but he knew she wouldn’t like that. So instead he walked around to her side and knelt in front of her, stroking a lock of hair falling over her cheek. He didn’t know if she was in the mood for hugs, didn’t know if she wanted anyone, so he didn’t want to do too much. He saw how her eyes were closed and could feel her damp skin under his thumb. Em’s breathing was too even, she wasn’t really asleep.

“Emmy? I know you’re awake Baby girl.” It took a moment for her eyes to open as she looked up at him.

“I was tryna sleep.”

“I know. But why aren’t you in bed?”

“I am.” Her words were short. “This is a bed.”

“It’s not our bed, Beautiful.” She was at least looking at him, but something still wasn’t right. “C’mon back to bed.”

“I’m fine, D. Go on, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You’ve been crying.” She looked like she was about to start crying again, Dan holding her hand and running his thumb along the back of it.

“I’m fine, Dan. I’m fine. I’m just tired, it’s been a long day. Go to bed.”

“Not without you.” He watched as her gaze softened slightly and he just wanted to kiss her to make her smile. “Can I like down here with you and give you a hug?”

“You don’t have to, Dan. We can just go to sleep.”

“But I want to. If you want me to.”

“…That’d be nice.” It took a few seconds for Em to respond and Dan was terrified she’d say no. He’d accept it, but he wouldn’t like it. He got in behind her, pulling Em against his chest. Her whole body was tense as he turned her around so they were in their usual sleeping position. She began to relax as his hand rubbed her back, Em’s head finally resting against his chest.

“You know, Snorlax is all alone in the other room. And our bed is way comfier than this one.” He kept his hand moving as she tensed up again, looking into Dan’s eyes.

“I’m too tired to move.”

“Nobody said you have to move. Trust me?” There was a nod and he pulled her over to the other side of the bed before stepping out. It was easy to pick her up and carry her out to their room, carefully depositing her back in their bed before he got in beside her. “See? Back where we belong and without you needing to move a single one of your cute toes. And back with your fluffy friend.”

It was quiet between them for a few moments, something Dan mostly expected. Whenever Em got like this she always went quiet while she thought. Finally he heard her bare whisper.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t ruin anything, you never could. I’m sorry I invited everyone around and had them all invading your space. I shouldn’t have.”

“Dan.” She leaned up and kissed his jaw to make him smile. “It’s your house and your friends, of course you should have. It’s fine.”

“No it’s not. I should have done it differently, we should have gone somewhere else. And believe me when I tell you that you can’t ruin anything. Even if you tried to ruin something you couldn’t.”

“You’re too nice to me.” The hollow way she said it broke a little part of Dan’s heart.

“Emmy I promise. Everyone should be nice to you because you deserve it. You deserve happiness and goodness. And a whole lot of cuddles.”

“Will you cuddle me?” He couldn’t help but hold her even closer at her request.

Dan had no idea which lucky star was looking out for them but it felt like there was a whole constellation instead of just one star. He knew Em wouldn’t do it but he was ready for her to kick him out of the room. Instead he was so damn lucky that he got to hold her while she dozed asleep. He didn’t have the guts to try to explain the comment she’d overheard, he wasn’t going to push his luck, but at least he got to hold her. They could keep going from there.

—

Em couldn’t remember when she actually fell asleep. She was positive that she wouldn’t sleep at all that night, but Dan’s arms around her and his heartbeat under her ear was the best sleeping pill to ever exist. She didn’t know how he did it but he always managed to make her drift off. Even on the worst nights when her brain wouldn’t shut up he did it.

She woke up too early, the sun barely rising and illuminating the room through the blinds. She shot awake at the realisation that Dan wasn’t against her back anymore. At some point in the night she moved from Dan spooning her to her turning around and cuddling into him like she always did. Her face was buried against Dan’s chest, his arms holding her tight, and their legs tangled between each other. She raised her head slightly, Dan grumbling at her moving, and kissed his chest before going back to sleep with him.

The next time she woke up it was full morning. The sun was coming in through slits in the blinds and felt completely opposite to her emotions. She was so exhausted. Em had cried herself to exhaustion, her anxiety and nerves filling her. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed with her book and preferably with Dan cuddling her. But she was so tired she barely even noticed Dan kissing her shoulder and gently leaving her in bed. He was probably just going to the bathroom before coming back to the warmth and cuddle her.

She must have dozed off, she had no idea how long he was gone for, but she woke up to kisses on her cheek and the scratch of his off season stubble against her skin. The smile on her face was automatic. Waking up that way was one of her favourite things in the world, kisses from the man she was falling for were the best feeling and she wouldn’t change it for anything in the universe.Without even thinking Em hugged him back, almost forgetting the words from the evening before. After a horrible night all she needed was Danny. Em just wanted her human weighted blanket over her.

“I made breakfast,” Dan whispered, lips still glued to her skin. “I’ve got your coffee and toast and that jam you like. Figured you wouldn’t want to get up so it’s here whenever you want it.::

“Huh? You didn’t have to do that.” She looked up at him with disbelieving wide eyes. How could he get up to make breakfast and bring it into her after everything that happened? He did it more often than not when they were in England, but she didn’t think he’d do it that morning.

“You always say that, and I always say I do it because I wanna. Are we gonna have this conversation again?”

“No, not really. Thanks for doing it anyway.” She caught him in a kiss but as she went to move he didn’t let her.

“Don’t thank me. Especially considering it’s gonna get cold cause I’m too comfy to move.”

“Dan…”

“Five minutes.”

Like every morning when Dan asked for five minutes in bed with her, those five turned into ten, then fifteen, and then she lost count. It started with kisses against Em’s neck and her hands running along his shoulders and back. But it ended with their clothes somewhere on the floor, fingers laced and moaning each other’s name. Coffee could be reheated, toast could be eaten cold or remade. But none of it mattered when Dan was inside her, whispering how good she felt and how she was the best girl, giving her another reminder that it was still them. Inside the walls of their bedroom it was always going to be them. If that was all she was going to get, it was going to have to be enough. Dan’s groans and gasps helped silence Em’s ghosts for a little while so she took advantage.

The rest of the day involved Dan looking after her while they had a lazy day. A few small excuses, a rescheduled afternoon with his family blamed on hangovers, and they decided to either stay in the bed or on the couch and do nothing. Dan insisted it was payback for the mess of the night before. Em didn’t particularly care about his reasons as long as she was by his side.

It was how they spent their days in Perth, mostly glued to each others sides except for if Dan was going to Michael to start working on a training plan or see his friends. She started to get used to being a part of his life in Australia. Dan made sure that none of the events were at the farm, always at a restaurant or bar unless it was just his family. Every single time they went anywhere Dan whispered in her ear before they went in that she was the one in charge. Say a word and they’d be on the way home. She was trying to fit into his life just like he was trying to keep her safe, and Em couldn’t thank him enough for it.

She was starting to get used to Perth, relaxing more as she spent more time there. But as Christmas got closer she lost her chill. Two days before Christmas she went through the clothes she’d brought with her and none of them were good enough for an event. She had no idea what a Ricciardo Christmas involved, but none of her outfits were right. She had some cute summer dresses, but they were normal everyday things. She’d wear them to the beach or to lunch or maybe even to dinner with Dan’s friends, but not for a proper day. There was nothing formal like what she’d wear to her family’s Christmas dinners that met her mother’s approval.

Em knew Dan would say she looked good in anything she wore, but she was terrified. All she wanted was for them to like her. The idea that Dan’s family might not like her was scary, and she needed to make sure that she was perfect. She couldn’t ruin it over clothing. Em had hidden most of the anxiety she had around being good enough for them but that night it was too much. Her stomach was in knots and she kept fidgeting in bed. The same page was read over and over, but she had no idea what it said. She pretended it was fine until Dan kissed her cheek, pulling her book from her hands as she jumped.

“Emmy what’s wrong?”

“Huh?” She shook her head and looked over at him.

“You haven’t turned the page in like fifteen minutes, you jumped when I kissed your cheek, and your feet keep moving. You’re overthinking. So talk to me, what’s going on?”

“What if they don’t like me? I didn’t bring anything proper to wear because you kept saying it was hot and I don’t look proper. I should have brought something proper with me.”

“If who doesn’t like you?” The concern in his voice made her want to melt.

“Your family, Dan.”

“Emmy…Baby you know they lo-like you already. Mum’s the one who invited you. Isaac absolutely loves you and is obsessed with you, ‘Chelle made a joke that you’re gonna have to have him on your lap when we’re eating. You can wear any of the dresses you’ve been wearing. You look phenomenal in them. I’m gonna wear shorts so you’ll be fine. What’s this about?” Her head spun. Shorts? At Christmas? No no no. What?

“Huh? Not a suit? Or at least trousers and a shirt? You’re wearing shorts?”

“I’m not wearing a fucking suit, it’s summer. It’s way too warm to do that.”

“Oh.”

“We can head out tomorrow, find a new dress for you if you want. But if you want my opinion you should wear that little red one you have, it’s cute. You look good in all your summer dresses, but red is kinda Christmassy, right?”

“But it’s a summer one?”

“And it’s probably gonna be like thirty. What’s wrong with that?”

Her head was filled with the reminder of the year before, of her mother’s glare at the heels Em made herself wear because if she didn’t she’d barely be allowed into the party. But they were only Primark so they weren’t good enough. And she didn’t have many presents for Dan’s family and

“Emmy. What’s up? Talk to me.”

“It’s stupid. But if I didn’t have changes for the different parts of Christmas Day and if I wasn’t wearing a formal dress and heels and men weren’t in suits then it wasn’t acceptable. Plus I only have little presents not proper gifts, I don’t know what to do.”

“Calm down. It’s ok. All you need to do is turn up as yourself, that’s it. We’re having a barbecue and hanging out by the pool cause it’s way too hot for anything else, I promise. We’ll be in swimwear most of the time.”

The next morning Em was still half convinced she should try to have something proper to wear, but Dan convinced her there was no need. If she wanted to go shopping he’d drive her in and help her choose, but she didn’t have to. She didn’t need to do it so his family would like her, they’d like her anyway. Instead it was a morning of soft kisses on the couch to convince her but Em agreed to wear the red dress Dan liked so much. It had a shallow v neck, was knee length, and the fabric had a white floral pattern. Dan insisted it looked wonderful with the soft tan she’d picked up since they got into the country. Pairing it with black slip on sandals meant she’d be ok. She’d look fine.

Which led her to the freak out of how could she appear at Joe and Grace’s home to stay a few nights without bringing anything as a thank you? She couldn’t do that. So they stood in the Cole’s checkout queue for far too long on the 23rd as Dan watched her pick out her baking ingredients. By that evening there was a berry tart and a three layer chocolate cake packaged up in the fridge awaiting delivery with them. It was entirely stress baking, even Dan knew it. But he didn’t make any comments. Instead he sat on the kitchen counter and watched, stealing strawberries and taste testing her concoctions.

Christmas Eve morning arrived and Em wasn’t as nervous as she thought she’d be. The full day of Dan talking to her about how it was going to be alright and everyone was looking forward to see her had helped. There were still nerves, but she was going to spend a couple of nights with people who wanted her there, wear cute clothes, and she had host presents to give as a thanks for being invited. Really she couldn’t wait.

Plus Dan had made it his personal job to make sure that she was completely relaxed that moaning. It started with slow morning sex, Em waking up to kisses along her shoulder and wandering hands. After that a shower for the two of them and waffles with her leftover berries for breakfast really helped, Em fully relaxed. She double checked that the presents were all perfectly wrapped and packed to go, and after lunch she decided to finally start getting ready for heading over.

Dan was sitting on the side of the bed switching between watching her put makeup on and fiddling with his phone. She knew she wanted to look mostly natural but she put a red lip on to go with her dress. She was put together and ready to go. She could do this. It was going to be good. As soon as she opened her lipstick up Dan spoke.

“You know red’s a risky colour when you consider I’m definitely stealing kisses under the mistletoe.”

“The package says it’s kiss proof. You’ll be fine stealing a peck.”

“Ah my sweet, innocent Emmy. You thinkI’m gonna steal just one little peck?” He grinned and kissed her briefly but filthily, tongue slipping between her lips as Em kissed him back.

“That’s the last one, your entire family will be around.”

“And?”

“And that means your family and kids. So no.”

“We’ll find somewhere, you’re not gonna make me go a full day without a kiss.” He pursed his lips at her but Em ignored them, focusing on making sure her liner was perfect and her lipstick matched it.

“You know you’re ridiculous, right?” It was supposed to be a joke, but he got the look on his face that she knew meant he’d done something.

“Talking about ridiculous, actually-“

“Daniel what did you do?” He went to his side of the wardrobe, pulling out a red glittery box from behind some bedsheets.

“Before you say anything, I did nothing. It was all Santa. Not me.” He handed Em the box and she looked up at him carefully. They’d agreed that he wasn’t getting her a present this year because he’d paid for her flights to Austin and Perth. She never wanted him to ever think that she was friends with him because of his money. None of it mattered to her.

“Dan we said.”

“I know. But it was Santa. And he couldn’t give this to you in front of everyone so it had to be now.”

“What have you done?”

She opened the box he’d handed her carefully, lifting the lid and pulling back two layers of tissue paper to reveal the gifts. The main one was some of the most beautiful lingerie she’d ever seen in her life. It was sage green and lacy, the fabric soft against her finger. The corset wasn’t a proper one, not boned but she knew it’d look amazing. A pair of stockings at the bottom of the box made her realise how perfect it would be.

“It’s nothing. I just wanted—“

“Oh this is pretty. This is really, really pretty.” She lifted the underwear out to let the lace catch the light, admiring the design through it.

“You like it??” Dan sounded nervous.

“I really like it. I mean, I could wear it Boxing Day when we get b…what’s this?” As she moved tissue paper a smaller box she hadn’t realised was there hit off her fingers. Em picked it up and looked at the sleek silver lettering. For her pleasure. When she opened the box there was a light lavender vibrator in the black box. A charging cable was neatly beside it along with a dust bag.

“Look if you don’t wanna use it, it’s fine. If you want to pretend that you never saw it and throw it away, that’s completely fine. But we were talking and you said you’d never tried one, so I thought why not? It could be an option for you.”

Em’s cheeks were on fire as she realised that Dan was doing it for her. She’d barely made it through the awkward conversation when he’d asked her what she liked in bed. It was impossible to explain how bad her sex life had been before him. She’d never thought it was, but the way he acted when she said it was ok for him to not worry about her orgasms had soon taught her the opposite. She still remembered the way Gregory looked at her when she said she wasn’t enjoying their sex life. Now she knew he’d been with Millie that entire time when he insisted she was enjoying herself.

She forced herself out of her thoughts, staring at Dan. He looked worried and she forced a smile. His face relaxed when he realised she was ok.

“Will you use it with me?” She felt like her body was about to rip apart from shakes and nerves as she got the words out but Dan’s grin made it worth it.

“Absolutely. We can do it right now.”

“We have to go to your parents, so when we get back. And thank you. But Dan you didn’t have to. I don’t need presents, you paid for my flights. That was enough.”

“I mean I think it’s technically more for us than just you, so it’s fine. Right?” She grinned at him and leaned against his shoulder for a moment before getting up.

“Get dressed or you’ll be late.” Em started to fix her makeup as Dan looked at her.

“Can I watch you get dressed first?”

“No touching, but you can.”

“You’re killing me here, woman!” It hurt to not just sit in his lap and kiss him but they were already starting to be late. She couldn’t be late for a visit that involved staying over.

As a little nod to his request, Em slicked on a light pink lipstick instead of the red one she planned on wearing before putting on her red dress. The no touching rule was ignored the second she moved past Dan. Instead he squeezed her butt and kissed her neck before going to get changed. As promised he was casual, one of his party shirts, a pair of shorts, and Vans. Effortlessly handsome as normal and Em was jealous of how good his slightly longer curls and stubble looked.

If she was honest to herself all she wanted to do was take her dress off, get rid of the stupidly expensive shirt he was wearing and spend the day kissing him. Ask him to use the new toy sitting in the box. But they couldn’t. They needed to get going. When they were about to head out the door Dan decided to steal a kiss. It was supposed to be just one final one, but it turned into two. Then three. Then Em was pinned against the wall, hands running through Dan’s hair as his hands gripped her hips and waist. She pushed her lips to wherever she could reach, kissing up the bridge of his nose and along his cheeks.

Em would never admit it in a month of Sundays to him, but it was the right decision to not wear the red lipstick. Her whole face would be red. They needed to go. Get in the car and leave, but he was addictive. It was one of the things she adored about him and sometimes hated, how hard he was to leave behind. Every time they said it was the last one there was just one more.

She knew they wouldn’t be able to do this for another two days. The plan was to stay with Grace and Joe for Christmas Eve and Day, so they could be around all the family for the festivities before coming back on Boxing Day. Which meant no touching or kissing, and she couldn’t say no to the last make out session for 48 whole hours. She giggled at Dan’s expression as he moved away, Em using her thumb to clean the sheen of lipstick from his lip.

The one thing she didn’t expect was Dan grabbing her hand when they walked to his truck, and holding it again in between shifting gears while he was driving. It had never been a thing for them until they arrived in Perth. They’d been grocery shopping and picking up last minute presents in a crowded supermarket, everyone out to prepare for the season. Out of the blue there were fingers linking hers, Dan holding her hand while they walked through the aisles. His fingers interlaced with hers until they got to the checkout, and then went back as they walked back to the truck.

Grabbing someone’s hand for a moment in a crowded place was fine. Friends did that in busy places so they didn’t lose each other, especially when one of them was new to a place. You don’t lace your fingers with them. And Em couldn’t bring herself to let it go while she tried to ignore the size difference or how good it felt.

She really did try not to think about it, but it was impossible while his thumb rubbed lazy circles against her skin. He was soft and warm and his long fingers were one of her favourite things in the world. Sitting in the car then she could admit it to herself, she loved him. She loved the way he made her feel about herself almost as much as she loved him. And then the playlist flipped over and a grin spread across her face while she heard the opening fiddle strains of Our Song.

Em didn’t even need to say anything. All she did was look over as Dan was intently staring at the road with a grin on his face to know he did it deliberately. He’d learned pretty early on that a surefire way to cheer her up was to put Taylor on. Em could still never thank him enough for that night in Philadelphia when they’d gotten to see Our Song live without the band. It had been magical. Dan started to sing along with his exaggerated accent to make her giggle. There was nobody else for her, all she could focus on was being happy. The nerves, the worry faded away as she sung with hi, and collapsed into giggles when they finished. Em sang it looking over at him, watching how he grinned and shimmied in his seat as they drove the road back to the city instead of staying out at the countryside. All she wanted was to kiss him silly and start her Christmas Day sharing a bed with him. It’d still be worth it, but it was weird.

She may not have gotten a Christmas Eve kiss from her favourite member of the family, but Isaac wouldn’t let her go and kept kissing her cheek. He insisted on sitting next to her at dinner, Dan on Em’s other side. Dan casually ran his hand along her thigh under the table cloth as they all ate. She joked and laughed along with everyone, getting Isaac to eat his veggies thanks to the joy of stealing from Auntie Emmy’s plate and not even realising what was happening.

The best part about the meal was nobody judged her for her plate of food. Everyone else was eating the Feast of the Seven Fishes, plates piled with seafood that she didn’t particularly enjoy. Instead Grace had handed her a plain one, with pasta and sauce and cheese. She smiled when she got it, getting a “enjoy”.

There was no pressure on Em to try new things. The serving platters were spread on the table for people to take what they liked. If she wanted something and it looked good to her she could have it. If she liked it, great. If not Dan was happy to eat off her plate. Once they started talking and sharing drinks she couldn’t remember why she was so nervous. She knew the Ricciardo’s. She’d spent days with them, relaxing and watching Dan race. This was just another dinner like the ones they’d had before, except here they had a celebration as an excuse.

When dessert came around Grace brought out Em’s cake and tart, placing them in the centre of the table.

“Em made these, so I’m saving the pav for tomorrow. I hadn’t put it together and these are fresh!” Grace announced as she handed out bowls, Joe cutting into the cake first and showing the layers. It was congratulations and compliments towards Em, Isaac grinning as he ate his tart. It felt strange to get complimented for what she’d done by people. Usually she stayed quiet and in the background because she didn’t want to speak too loudly.

Even with the worry that someone would ask questions Em could feel herself relaxing beside Dan. He had his arm resting on the back of her chair, hugging around her shoulders like it was nothing. She wanted to move away but she couldn’t, Isaac on her lap before she lifted him and carried him into the living room for Christmas Eve presents. They settled in on the sofa, Isaac waking up a bit more and looking around.

Em wasn’t expecting anything. They’d welcomed her into their home, offered her somewhere to stay and it was more than she thought. But as stockings were handed out Joe offered one over to her.

“Everyone gets a stocking. We guessed on the pjs, apologies if they’re too big.” She smiled as she opened it, Isaac handed back to Michelle so Em could open it. Inside was new shorts pjs with red and black checkers, shampoo and conditioner, and a mixture of sweets. There was also a new notebook and a smooth writing pen. She couldn’t believe it. It was presents chosen specifically for her. The tiny little gold E in the bottom right corner of the notebook cover proved that for her. It was the middle of summer, she was in Australia for Christmas, and there was a group of people together who genuinely liked each other and somehow liked her. It didn’t feel real.

As midnight hit it was hugs and congratulations, everyone heading towards their rooms as they were shooed away with the promise that Santa was on his way so everyone had to go to bed. For the first time in far too long she didn’t have to suppress a shudder as someone who wasn’t Dan hugged her, smiling at Grace and Joe and returning the hug. Michelle and her husband got a one armed one that she gave willingly. It felt magical. And it wasn’t weird that the biggest hug was from Dan. She wouldn’t kiss him in front of everyone, but once everyone was going to bed he followed her into the guest room she was staying in.

“Two hands or the hug doesn’t count, right?” Em asked as he pulled her into a hug. His head leaned against hers and Em pushed her head into the spot where his neck and shoulder met. Alone she was able to run her hands along his warm back, pulling him close as Dan nodded and squeezed her waist. “That’s my huggy boy.”

As he hugged she didn’t want to let go, holding onto him in the privacy. Dan pushed kisses to the top of her head and her shoulder as much as he could. Em was just glad to have him there. He made things easier for her. She’d come with him and been so nervous but it was easy with him. Terrifying, but easy. She looked up at him and saw the smile, reaching up on her toes to kiss him.

The smile on Dan’s face as he realised what was going on and what she was doing would sustain Em forever. He was contagiously happy as they kissed, and Em was so close to telling him everything. But for the first time in years she was going to have a good Christmas and she couldn’t say no. She couldn’t ruin that on herself. So she held onto him as he kissed the top of her head and pretended everything was fine. She could do it.

“You need to go back,” Em whispered, afraid of breaking the spell between them.

“Can I stay here?”

“You need to go. What if your parents find out?”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll go back to my room early in the morning. Please?” She couldn’t resist him and he knew that.

“Fine.” It was one more kiss before she went to get her pjs on. They were curled up in bed and Em heard him barely whisper.

“Merry Christmas, Emmy.”

“Merry Christmas, Dimples. Thanks for inviting me tonight,” she murmured before pushing a kiss to his shoulder and cuddling in to sleep.

“Any time, Wrinkles. It’s gonna be the first of many.”

-

Taglist

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[mononijikayu]

mr. kupido  ― itadori yuji.

This was much more evident with each passing day that you were around him. Nothing felt right without you. Yuji is shaken by the fact that he cannot live without seeing you wave at him in the morning. He could not go without you greeting him at the training ground. He didn’t feel content without you seeing him off in each and every mission. Every time he saw you, whether it was in the classroom, the training grounds, or simply passing by in the hallway, his heart would skip a beat. A rush of warmth and happiness would wash over him, leaving him breathless and longing for more.

GENRE: Fearsome Womb Arc, 2018;

WARNING/s: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Banter, Romance, Falling in Love, Young Love, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Curse Hunting, Gojo-Sensei is Cupid;

masterlist

note: i told myself that i should stop writing and get napping but i got an idea while listening to music, don't mind me please. i'm just really making all the time of semester break matter!!! genmei by the way is my oc from us and them, which im trying to plot,,,,,anyway please enjoy this!!! <3333

listen: mr. kupido by rachel alejandro

ITADORI YUJI WAS HE NEVER REALLY FELT LIKE THIS BEFORE. In the bustling corridors of Jujutsu High, amidst the chaos of students in the training ground, there was one person who stood out from the crowd – Yuji Itadori. With his infectious grin and boundless energy, Yuji seemed to light up the room wherever he went. But behind that charismatic facade lay a secret that weighed heavily on his heart.

Yuji Itadori had fallen deeply, irrevocably in love. And the object of his affection? None other than you, his classmate. From the moment he first laid eyes on you around Jujutsu High, Yuji was sure that he was never gonna forget about you. Immediately, when you introduced yourself – he was just completely captivated by your presence, your laughter, your every movement. Everything about you just screamed life. And he needed that. 

But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Itadori Yuji found himself consumed with all these overwhelming feelings. Yuji was unable to shake off the want of you, everything of you and it just burns him. It seemed that every waking moment was filled with thoughts of how he could keep this secret any longer, how he could continue to hide the depths of his emotions from you.

This was much more evident with each passing day that you were around him. Nothing felt right without you. Yuji is shaken by the fact that he cannot live without seeing you wave at him in the morning. He could not go without you greeting him at the training ground. He didn’t feel content without you seeing him off in each and every mission. Every time he saw you, whether it was in the classroom, the training grounds, or simply passing by in the hallway, his heart would skip a beat. A rush of warmth and happiness would wash over him, leaving him breathless and longing for more.

As he navigated the halls of Jujutsu High, Yuji grappled with his feelings, torn between the fear of rejection and the longing for something more. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to tell you. To make it clear that there was no one else that had made his heart bigger. Nothing that had become his roman empire more than the thought of you loving him back. And as each day passed, the weight of his secret grew heavier, threatening to crush him under its unbearable burden. 

But despite the turmoil raging within him, Yuji couldn't deny the undeniable truth – his love grows for you every day. And he couldn’t be happier about it. His heart skips a beat at the thought of you. He was consumed by you, and he could never fight it. He didn’t want to. Because he wanted you. He wanted to be happy together with you. 

Yuji stood there, weighing his options. He lets out a deep breath, huffing out frustration in a groan soon after. He knew that he could no longer keep this secret hidden away. It was time to muster up the courage to confess his feelings, to lay his heart bare and hope for the best. He wanted to be brave and put his heart out there. But there was a problem weighing heavily on his mind.

He didn’t want to lose you this way. He had thought about it before. He didn’t have the courage to fan the flames for fear of scorching the delicate fabric of your friendship. For a long time, he had kept telling himself that he was already content having you in his life as a friend. The thought of confessing his feelings to you filled Yuji with a potent mixture of excitement and dread. Megumi had told him that it was time to do it, Kugisaki had told him to stop being a coward.

As days turned into nights, and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the Tokyo Jujutsu High campus, Yuji found himself locked in an internal struggle. The words lingered on the tip of his tongue, a confession waiting to be set free into the world, yet the weight of uncertainty held him captive.

His friends, blissfully unaware of the emotional tempest brewing within him, teased and joked about matters of the heart. But they couldn't fathom the depth of the turmoil Yuji was enduring. Nights turned into sleepless introspections, as he replayed the scenario endlessly in his mind, a perpetual loop of 'what ifs.'

He found himself in a ceaseless cycle of self-reflection, meticulously analyzing every possible outcome of the impending confession. A relentless parade of scenarios, each one more daunting than the last, paraded through his thoughts. Would you reciprocate his feelings, or would his declaration become the catalyst for a chasm that would forever alter the dynamics of their friendship?

Yuji, a prisoner of his own overactive mind, navigated the labyrinth of his emotions. A to Z, he scrutinized every conceivable permutation of events, contemplating the consequences of baring his soul to you. What if the words he longed to speak shattered the delicate equilibrium they had cultivated over time?

The fear of breaking the fragile harmony between them haunted him like a ghost, whispering doubts into the recesses of his consciousness. He envisioned a landscape of awkwardness and regret, where the warmth of your friendship would be replaced by a chilling awkwardness, a ghostly reminder of what once was.

The mere prospect of losing you, not just as a confidant but as the anchor of his daily existence, sent shivers down his spine. The shadow of potential regret loomed over him, casting a pall over his every waking moment. It was a paralyzing fear, one that gripped his heart and refused to let go.

As the clock ticked away, each second echoing in the chambers of his hesitation, Yuji grappled with the decision to finally unburden himself of this emotional weight or continue to navigate the labyrinth of uncertainty that lay before him. The battleground was set within his own mind, and the war between desire and fear raged on, leaving him standing on the precipice of a choice that could reshape the course of their relationship forever.

Faced with the daunting prospect of baring his soul to you, Yuji sought solace in the wisdom of one man – Gojo Satoru, the enigmatic and all-knowing sorcerer who seemed to possess an answer to every problem under the sun. With a heavy heart and a stomach full of butterflies, Yuji embarked on a quest to seek Gojo's guidance, determined to navigate the treacherous waters of love with the help of his eccentric sensei.

As Yuji approached Gojo's office, he couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous energy coursing through his veins. He knocked on the door, his knuckles rapping against the wood in a rhythm that mirrored the erratic beat of his heart.

"Come in," Gojo's voice echoed from within, a playful lilt dancing in his words.

Yuji pushed open the door and stepped into the room, his eyes widening at the sight before him. Gojo, adorned in his trademark flashy attire and sporting his signature blindfold, lounged on a throne-like chair, surrounded by a myriad of colorful plush toys and bizarre trinkets.

"Ah, Yuji my boy!" Gojo exclaimed, a grin stretching across his face. "What brings you to my humble abode?"

Yuji cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Um, Sensei, I... I need your help with something."

Gojo leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ah, let me guess…..is it about young love?" he mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. Gojo Satoru grins. 

"I've been expecting this moment. Fear not, Yuji! Sensei is here to assist you on your quest for romance!"

Yuji blinked in surprise, unsure of what to make of Gojo's theatrical display. "Um, thank you, Sensei. It's just that... I'm in love with them, but I don't know how to tell them."

Gojo's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he listened to Yuji's confession. "Ah, a classic tale of unrequited love! But fear not, Yuji, for I have just the solution to your conundrum. Consider me your personal cupid!"

As Gojo reveled in his grand plan, the door swung open, and Fushiguro Megumi entered the room with his signature deadpan expression. "This is the worst idea you could have ever had," he deadpanned, his gaze fixed firmly on Gojo.

Nobara Kugisaki followed closely behind, her laughter echoing through the room as she glanced at Yuji. "Gojo-sensei is gonna sink your love life," she teased, her tone laced with playful sarcasm. "Just tell them how you feel!"

Gojo faked a gasp of offense, feigning shock at Fushiguro and Nobara teasing remarks. "You two are so rude! I romanced my own wife, thank you very much," he protested, his tone laced with mock indignation.

But Fushiguro wasn't about to let Gojo off the hook so easily. "Genmei-san didn’t choose you in the first place," he pointed out with a hint of skepticism, his gaze unwavering as he met Gojo's eyes.

Nobara, ever the mischievous one, added fuel to the fire with a knowing smirk. "Yeah, didn’t she tell us that she would have chosen Nanami-san instead of you?" she teased, settling comfortably onto Gojo's black sofa.

A genuine frown crossed Gojo's face, his playful facade crumbling as he defended his honor. "Nu-uh! She didn’t! I’m the one she actually likes!" he insisted, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

Fushiguro rolled his eyes, unimpressed by Gojo's protests. "Can you just tell us the mission and be done with this mess?" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest in a display of impatience.

Gojo's pride stung as he awaited Yuji's affirmation, his confidence momentarily shaken by Fushiguro and Nobara's teasing. "I can’t believe this, my own son!" he exclaimed dramatically, feigning betrayal at Fushiguro's casual dismissal.

Fushiguro merely raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by Gojo's theatrics. "I'm not your son," he deadpanned, his tone laced with dry sarcasm as he met Gojo's gaze with an unyielding stare.

Meanwhile, Yuji squirmed uncomfortably under their scrutiny, a blush creeping up his cheeks as he attempted to defend Gojo's plan. "Come on, guys, Gojo-sensei knows what he's doing," he insisted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I’m pretty sure he’s romanced Gen-san before! I mean, they’ve been married for a while!"

Gojo's expression softened at Yuji's earnest defense, touched by his student's unwavering trust in him. "Yes, exactly! I am Cupid himself. Tell them that, Yuji!" he urged, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes as he awaited Yuji's affirmation.

With a hesitant nod, Yuji turned to Fushiguro and Nobara, his gaze wavering but determined. "Guys, Gojo-sensei really does have a plan. I think we should trust him," he implored, his voice tinged with uncertainty but genuine belief.

Fushiguro and Nobara exchanged skeptical glances, clearly unconvinced by Gojo's grand claims. But as they watched Yuji's earnest expression and sensed his unwavering faith in their sensei, they couldn't help but soften slightly, begrudgingly giving in to his plea.

With a resigned sigh, Fushiguro relented. "Fine, we'll hear out Gojo-sensei's plan," he conceded, his tone begrudging but willing to entertain the possibility.

Nobara nodded in agreement, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "But if this ends in disaster, Gojo-sensei, you're gonna owe us big time," she warned, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she glanced at the flustered sorcerer.

Gojo lifted a thumb up, an all-mighty grin on his lips. “I won’t fail, don’t worry! Leave it to your great, handsome teacher and Cupid, Satoru Gojo!”

And so, with a tentative truce in place and Gojo's grand plan hanging in the balance, the unlikely quartet prepared to embark on a wild and unpredictable journey of love, laughter, and perhaps a touch of chaos, all under the guidance of the self-proclaimed Cupid himself.

But Fushiguro and Nobara remained unconvinced, exchanging skeptical glances as they watched Gojo eagerly lay out his elaborate scheme. With a resigned sigh, Fushiguro shook his head. "Fine, do whatever you want," he muttered, already bracing himself for the chaos that was sure to follow.

Gojo's heart swelled with pride and excitement as Fushiguro and Nobara reluctantly agreed to hear out his plan. Their skepticism was evident, but the glimmer of hope in Yuji's eyes fueled Gojo's determination to make this grand scheme a success. With a triumphant grin, he turned to Yuji, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes, ready to embark on this adventure of love and laughter.

"Well then, shall we get started?" Gojo exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious as he eagerly laid out the intricate details of his grand scheme. His voice crackled with energy, each word infused with palpable excitement. "First things first, we need to set the stage for the perfect confession!"

“And what would that be?” Megumi raises a brow.

Satoru Gojo looked at all his students and grinned at Yuji, “You’ll see!”

IT WAS QUITE A SURPRISED WHEN GOJO SATORU GAVE YOU A MISSION ON YOUR OWN. You sat there, perched on the edge of your seat, your eyes narrowed with suspicion as you stared at Gojo-sensei. His trademark smirk stretched across his face, a mischievous glint dancing in his eyes as he regarded you with amusement. Something about his demeanor set off alarm bells in your mind, and you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this meeting than met the eye.

Under the pretense of a routine mission, Gojo-sensei had summoned you to his office, claiming that there was a task at hand that required your immediate attention. But as he began to explain the details of the mission, a sense of unease settled in the pit of your stomach. There was an air of secrecy surrounding Gojo-sensei's words, and you couldn't help but wonder what he was hiding.

You raised a brow at him. “Maki–senpai would be more suited for something like this, maybe Inumaki–senpai too–”

"You’re the one I can trust with this mission, it’s why I called for you.” Gojo-sensei says, his voice smooth and casual as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled together in front of him. "We have a special mission that requires your unique skills.”

You narrowed your eyes at his cryptic words, your instincts telling you that there was more to this mission than Gojo-sensei was letting on. He was being weird again, you think to yourself. But then again, he's always weird. That's not something that you really can do anything about. You shrugged at him.

"What kind of mission?" you asked, your voice laced with suspicion as you studied him intently.

Gojo-sensei's smirk widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned forward, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Let's just say it involves something that we highly value." he replied cryptically, a playful glint in his eyes.

Your suspicions only grew stronger at his vague response, and you couldn't help but shoot him a skeptical glare. "And you're not going to tell me what these we highly value, anyway?" you asked, your tone tinged with frustration as you pressed him for answers.

But Gojo-sensei merely chuckled in response, his smirk never faltering as he leaned back in his chair once more. "You'll just have to find out for yourself," he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he watched your reaction.

You sighed at what Gojo-sensei said and nodded. Soon enough you were out into the narrow streets of Tokyo, following the map Gojo-sensei gave you. Much of what you’re going off on was guided by the cryptic instructions he provided. The details were vague, leaving you to navigate the darkened streets and winding alleyways with a sense of uncertainty. An irritated sigh releases from your lips. You should text Megumi about your plot to take revenge on Gojo-sensei. As you ventured deeper into the heart of the city, a palpable anticipation filled the air, mingling with the thick tension that seemed to surround the mission like a heavy cloak.

With each step forward, the sense of unease intensified, as if the very fabric of reality itself was undergoing a disquieting metamorphosis around you. The familiar surroundings of a Jujutsu sorcerer's job began to take on an uncanny and shifting quality. A subtle but perceptible alteration in the atmosphere left you questioning whether this unsettling phenomenon was an intentional part of Gojo's mission, or if it heralded something more enigmatic.

You instinctively reached for your saber, the cool metal providing a reassuring weight against the growing tension. The surroundings, once familiar and predictable, now took on an increasingly foreboding nature. Long shadows twisted and contorted, casting menacing shapes that danced malevolently along the walls. The labyrinthine streets seemed to stretch and coil, as if the city itself was a living, breathing entity responding to an unseen force.

As you continued your journey, hunting down the curses that lurked in the shadows, the palpable feeling of unease persisted. The air crackled with an otherworldly energy, and the tension became a palpable entity, wrapping around you like a suffocating shroud. Was this a side effect of the mission, or had Gojo intentionally woven this disconcerting atmosphere into the fabric of your quest?

Yet, even amidst the swirling chaos and uncertainty, a fierce determination burned within you. Each curse encountered, each challenge faced, only fueled your relentless pursuit of the truth behind Gojo's enigmatic mission. The glimmer of determination within you shone like a beacon, cutting through the ominous ambiance that sought to engulf you. 

You rush toward the gurgling curse with fierce determination before you feel the curse burst into pieces. You halt and blink at the dead curse in front of you. As you turned the corner, your eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected sight before you. There, amidst the swirling chaos of curses, stood Yuji Itadori, his expression resolute as he engaged in a fierce battle against the malevolent entities threatening to overwhelm him.

"Yuji? What are you doing here?" you called out, both surprised and relieved to see him amidst the turmoil.

Yuji's head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his eyes widening in recognition and relief. "Hey! I'm, uh, just taking care of some curses," he replied, a nervous laugh bubbling up as he fought to maintain his composure.

"You? Taking care of curses? Shouldn't you be in class or something? Gojo-sensei assigned this mission to me." you teased, unable to suppress a smirk at the sight of Yuji valiantly battling the supernatural creatures.

"Hey, I can handle myself, you know," Yuji protested, a playful glint in his eyes as he deflected your teasing with good-natured banter. “Besides, shouldn’t it be the merrier?”

"That’s quite a lot to ask of me," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement as you watched Yuji continue to fend off the curses with surprising skill and determination. “I like doing my job to satisfy my ego, you know? It's not always fun to be the more the merrier!"

Yuji grinned at you. “So do I!”

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty, a sense of camaraderie blossomed between you and Yuji. Despite the gravity of the situation, there was an undeniable bond of trust and understanding that united you both in the face of adversity.

"You better pull your punches," you quipped, a playful smirk dancing on your lips as you exchanged knowing glances with Yuji.

"Don’t fall asleep with your saber," he retorted with a grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he teased you in return.

As the banter flowed between you and Yuji, a surge of adrenaline fueled your movements as you joined him in the battle against the curses once more. Standing side by side, shoulder to shoulder, you fought with a renewed vigor, each strike and parry a testament to your growing bond and unyielding determination.

With every swing of your saber and every burst of cursed energy, you could feel the rhythm of your heartbeat quicken, the exhilaration of battle coursing through your veins. Having Yuji by your side, fighting alongside you, it made you feel alive in a way you hadn't experienced before. Even amidst the chaos and danger, there was a sense of exhilaration that came from facing the unknown together.

As the mission drew to a close and the last of the curses were vanquished, you found yourself feeling a sense of exhaustion settling over you. Sweat dripped from your brow as you lowered your head to catch your breath, the rush of battle leaving you both physically and emotionally drained.

In that moment of respite, amidst the falling cherry blossoms, Yuji Itadori appeared with a grin on his face, a can of cold drink in each hand. His flushed cheeks and bright smile were a stark contrast to the intensity of the battle you had just faced together. With a warm greeting, he handed you one of the cans, his gesture a silent acknowledgment of the bond that had formed between you during the mission.

Accepting the can with a grateful smile, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for Yuji. Despite the chaos and uncertainty that surrounded you, his presence brought a sense of calm and reassurance. And as you stood together amidst the falling cherry blossoms, sharing a moment of quiet companionship, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together, united in strength and love.

With the falling cherry blossoms creating a picturesque backdrop, you and Yuji stood in a moment of quiet serenity, the soft petals swirling around you like a gentle snowfall. The air was filled with a sense of warmth and camaraderie as you shared a silent exchange, the unspoken bond between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

Feeling a surge of courage, you took a deep breath and turned to face Yuji, your heart pounding in your chest as you prepared to bare your feelings to him. But as you opened your mouth to speak, the words caught in your throat, and you found yourself suddenly tongue-tied.

Yuji's eyes softened as he watched you, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he waited patiently for you to gather your thoughts. Sensing your hesitation, he reached out and gently squeezed your hand, his touch offering a silent reassurance.

"Hey, it's okay," Yuji murmured, his voice soft and comforting. "You don't have to say anything if you're not ready."

But the warmth of his hand in yours and the sincerity in his eyes emboldened you, and with a shy smile, you took a deep breath and spoke from the heart.

"Yuji, I...I wanted to tell you that...I care about you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to put your feelings into words. "More than just as a friend. I...I think I might be in love with you. I felt like this for a while now. But I was…I was waiting for the right time to say something.”

A blush crept across your cheeks as you uttered the words, your heart pounding in your chest as you awaited Yuji's response. But instead of laughter or rejection, you were met with a soft smile and a warmth in his eyes that mirrored your own feelings.

"Hey, I...I feel the same way," Yuji confessed, his voice filled with sincerity as he gazed at you with affection. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long, but I didn't know how to say it. I’ve just been so scared that you’d….you’d reject me, you know? I just, I really wanted to keep it to myself because there was just–”

“Yuji,” You lovingly call out to him, making him look towards you with a flustered look. “You’re rambling.”

As Yuji's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, he stumbled over his words in a flustered attempt to apologize. "Oh, I'm so sorry–"

But you simply laughed, the sound light and full of warmth as you leaned closer to him. "It's okay," you reassured him, a fond smile playing on your lips. "I love that about you."

A shy smile graced Yuji's lips as he looked at you, his heart overflowing with affection. "You do?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for confirmation.

Nodding gently, you reached out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead, your touch sending a shiver of electricity down his spine. "Of course I do," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned in closer to him. "I love everything about you, Yuji."

His breath caught in his throat as he looked at you, his heart pounding in his chest as he realized the depth of your feelings for him. And in that moment, surrounded by the falling cherry blossoms and the soft glow of moonlight, you and Yuji shared a tender and intimate connection that transcended words. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a sweet and gentle kiss that spoke volumes of the love and affection that flowed between you.

As you melted into each other's embrace, the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the overwhelming warmth of your love. And as you stood there, lost in the sweet embrace of your newfound love, you knew that this was just the beginning of a beautiful journey together.

the end credits at gojo-manor:

Gojo Genmei raised an amused eyebrow as she watched Gojo Satoru pace back and forth in their shared living room, a self-satisfied grin plastered on his face. "What's got you so worked up, Satoru?" she asked, a knowing glint in her eyes. Gojo turned to face her, his expression positively gleeful. "Oh, you know, just saving the day as usual," he boasted, his chest puffing out with pride. Genmei chuckled, shaking her head in amusement. "And what heroic deed have you performed this time?" she inquired, her tone teasing. Gojo's grin widened as he launched into an animated retelling of his latest escapade. "Well, you see, there was this little misunderstanding between two of my students," he began, his voice brimming with excitement. "They were head over heels for each other but too scared to admit it. So, naturally, I had to step in and play Mr. Cupid." Genmei arched an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "And how, pray tell, did you manage to accomplish that?" Gojo's grin turned mischievous as he recounted the elaborate scheme he had orchestrated to bring the two students together. He left nothing out. From how he had been noticing Yuji's pining, how you were suffering from 'i'm in love but i won't say anything' sickness. Genmei certainly found it amusing that people let her husband have his way. But well, it seemed to have worked out in the end. That's all that matters, really. "And in the end," Gojo concluded, a satisfied smirk on his face, "they finally confessed their love for each other. All thanks to yours truly, Mr. Cupid himself!" Genmei couldn't help but laugh at her husband's antics, shaking her head in amusement. "You never cease to surprise me, Satoru," she remarked, a fond smile playing on her lips. "But I must say, playing Cupid suits you." Gojo beamed at her praise, his chest puffing out with pride once more. "Well, you know me," he replied with a wink. "Always happy to lend a helping hand when it comes to matters of the heart." And as they sat together, basking in the warmth of their shared laughter, Gojo Satoru couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that he had played a small part in bringing two young hearts together. After all, what could be more rewarding than helping love blossom?

[datura-tea]

holy shit this year marks 10 years of this blog and moz!! i can't remember the exact date i started posting here - my archive says i have one post from november 2013 but let's disregard that - but i do remember it was around late 2014/early 2015 :)

^ one of the very first moz art pieces i ever drew, for fallout week 2015!!

memories and art through the years under a read more bc it got long

2014 → baby's first rpg!! i started playing fnv on my cousin's jailbroken xbox late 2013 and finished mid 2014 and i loved every minute of it. i remember waking up at 8am and playing almost nonstop until 2am the next day haha!

i didn't play moz on my first playthrough - but i did start creating a character that would eventually become her: a shorthaired ex-boxer who punched her way through obstacles when diplomacy failed. i remember she spent a lot of time with boone. i liked him then, because he saved my ass more times than i can count. but i digress. this is draft 1 moz essentially

2015 → this is the year that i was doing my thesis so i could graduate but i was so depressed and stressed about it that i distracted myself by replaying fnv on pc, where i played through the dlcs for the first time. i fell in love with the dlcs' oversarching story; particularly ulysses, who i became obssessed with, especially since i couldn't find any content of him at the time. in the game, i played as moz; i had most of her personality and choices down, but her backstory was still up in the air.

fun fact: this was an existing sideblog that i remade to be a fallout blog so i could look for ulysses content, and when i couldn't find any, i made some myself, featuring moz as my main courier six. originally, i didn't ship them, but eventually i ended the year as a courier/ulysses otp shipper.

this was the year i started drawing digitally - my uncle let me borrow a drawing tablet and i used an old copy of photoshop i pirated hehe

2016 → i graduated this year!! and promptly fell deeper into my depression. this was the year that it got so bad that i had to be medicated. through it all, this blog and moz and ulysses and my fandom friends were with me. and for that i am truly grateful :) this was the year i figured out how to lock transparent pixels so that i could color my lineart lol

2017 → i started hammering out moz's backstory this year i think. there's a lot of sketches of her and her family in my files. i experimented with shading and backgrounds here but that experimentation was pretty short-lived

2018 → i started using references seriously!!!! i did a lot of oc on oc kissing this year, featuring mostly moz and many friend ocs haha

2019 → didn't draw much this year. actually this year was a blur and i can't remember much from it except from it being the year of my terrible no good bad copywriting jobs... anyway i did manage to continue my courier/ulysses brainrot and make this piece, which i'm still proud of

2020 → pandemic time. i spent a lot of time asleep at home and i think this was also the year i started doing commissions?? shoutout to anyone who has ever commissioned me - thank you so much, i truly appreciate it!!

2021 → i switched from my old-ass pirated photoshop to clip studio paint and never looked back. also i did a bunch of commissions for my grandmother's surgery, which failed, and i distracted myself from the sadness by drawing my ocs over and over and playing disco elysium

2022 → by this year, i've got moz down pat and have started vaguely developing other ocs instead. but she's still always at the back of my mind

2023 → i bought new brushes from true grit texture supply and immediately found new favorites that i started using for everything. i tentatively started incorporating background elements in some pieces!

2024 → while it's still too early to say where this year will lead me art-wise, i will say that i started experimenting in realistic paint studio (which i bought in 2021, the same time as clip studio paint) a few days ago and i'm liking the results so far. we'll see!

all in all, these last 10 years have been quite a ride, but i'm glad i stuck around and i'm glad you guys stuck around too!! much much love 💖💖💖

[marveltrumpshate]

September 2024 MTH fills

Counting down the days until Preview Week? Here are some MTH fills to tide you over while you wait. :)

The best way to see all the fills that have been shared with us is our monthly roundups tag or our #MTH-fills channel on our Discord, but you can also view them through the following methods:

Our Tumblr tags: 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023

Our AO3 collection (only has works posted to AO3; see "subcollections" for specific auction years)

Completed works tag list

To find specific content, use our completed works tag lists above which includes instructions on how to search for a particular character, gen or romantic relationship, universe, and fanwork type. 

GEN/PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS

Alpine & Bucky Barnes

Yavannie/@heyitsyav - Art of Bucky on a motorcycle with Alpine on his shoulder and Nat swinging in on a rope for @callmekayyyyy (MTH 2022)

Alpine & Bucky Barnes & Clint Barton & Lucky

@3twindragons - Bucky/Clint art of Bucky back hugging Clint on the couch as Alpine and Lucky try to catch and eat pizza slices tumbling out of Clint's pizza box for @hannahshattuck

Bucky Barnes & Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov

@uofmdragon - "Home on the Range (Where the Raptors and the Compeys Play)" (Western with dinosaurs AU fic featuring Bucky/Nat and Clint & Bucky & Nat with some minor Peggy where outlaws Clint and Nat find an amnesiac Bucky) for @drivingyelenabelova (MTH 2022)

Clint Barton & Loki

@iguessyouregonnamissthepantyraid - "The Devil You Know" (post-Avengers canon-divergent fic where Clint and Loki are forced to team up) for kerravonsen (MTH 2022)

Steve Rogers & Morgan Stark

Lady Gigi - An MCU comic page of Steve spending the day with Morgan for @magicasen

Yelena Belova & Natasha Romanov

@kerravonsen - "Hugs and Kisses, Barbed Wire, and Fireflies" (Yelena & Natasha-themed necklace and earrings showing their love and sisterhood) for @moonyroony

Yelena Belova & Liho & Natasha Romanov

Sanctuaria/@aleksandrachaev - Art of Natasha, Yelena, and Liho chilling on the couch watching a movie for @skarabrae-stone

SHIPS

Bucky Barnes/Clint Barton

3twindragons - Art of Bucky back hugging Clint on the couch as Alpine and Lucky try to catch and eat pizza slices tumbling out of Clint's pizza box for hannahshattuck

Bucky Barnes/Howard Stark

@ruquas - The third installment of a wartime epistolary fic in the form of handwritten letters between Bucky and Howard for @fuckyeahhowardstark

Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov

Yavannie/heyitsyav - Art of Bucky on a motorcycle with Alpine on his shoulder and Nat swinging in on a rope for callmekayyyyy (MTH 2022)

uofmdragon - "Home on the Range (Where the Raptors and the Compeys Play)" (Western with dinosaurs AU fic featuring Bucky/Nat and Clint & Bucky & Nat with some minor Peggy where outlaws Clint and Nat find an amnesiac Bucky) for drivingyelenabelova (MTH 2022)

Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

@buckybarnesdeservestobehappy - "Corporate Shill" (grumpy Steve/sunshine Bucky COVID-19 pandemic coffee shop AU fic) for @sofreakinmanyfandoms (MTH 2022)

BritBrit99 - Red and yellow gold star wrapped in green thread based on controlofwhatido's Steve/Bucky fic for @controlofwhatido

@cristinuke - "peace, beneath" (MCU D/S Steve/Bucky fic where Bucky has a complicated relationship with his designation) for @zepysgirl (MTH 2022)

@messypeaches - "Fearful Symmetry" (post-CA:CW AU fic where Bucky is a werecat and Pepper has Extremis) for Dogsled

@zenaidamacrouras1 - "A Passel of Backhoes" (non-powered Steve/Bucky AU fic featuring Appalachian Bucky's OC sisters from the "Backhoe" universe) for @thegirldetectivesblog - "Only the Good Die Young" (paramedic Bucky/Captain America Steve AU fic) for @gloromeien

Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

buckybarnesdeservestobehappy - "The Coffee Goes Cold" (Before the Coffee Gets Cold-inspired AU boxer Bucky/soldier Steve/CEO Tony magic AU fic) for @capsgirl1990 (MTH 2022)

Bucky Barnes/Tony Stark

@sivan325 - "Buck by any other name" (Bucky/Tony 9-1-1 fusion fic where Bucky meets Buck while doing physiotherapy and they talk about their boyfriends) for @tehroserose

Carol Danvers/Maria Rambeau

onthecyberseas - "Finding Our Way" (post-The Marvels Carol/Maria Rambeau fic where Carol and Kate make significant discoveries as the Young Avengers go on their first mission) for @puzzlebean

Clint Barton/Phil Coulson

@ghostcwtch - Clint/Phil Star Wars AU art for uofmdragon

Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow

Dogsled - "How Does Your Garden Grow?" (post-CA:TWS Jack Rollins/Brock Rumlow fic where Brock has to come to terms with his past after being burned in the fall of the Triskelion) for Mech (MTH 2022)

Nixie DeAngel/@nixies-creations - "What A Delightful Find You Are" (werewolf Jack Rollins/vampire Brock Rumlow AU fic and accompanying mood board) for @kalika999 (MTH 2022)

Matt Murdock/Foggy Nelson

Marvel_Kitten/@marv-with-a-v - "Blinded" (MCU Matt/Foggy fic where Matt struggles with resurfacing trauma after discovering how Madame Gao's disciples are initiated) for @kimmycup

thelonebamf/@amazing-spiderling - Illustrated fic cover of Foggy shaking vigilante Matt's hand for the MCU Matt/Foggy fic "All in Good Fun" for @missmoochy (MTH 2022) - Comic page of "Toy With Feelings," a Daredevil/Toy Story Matt/Foggy AU featuring an outraged Wilson Fisk porcelain doll as well as Matt, a fashion doll, and Foggy, a troll doll, hugging for missmoochy (MTH 2022)

Natasha Romanov/Original Character

zenaidamacrouras1 - "A Passel of Backhoes" (non-powered fic with Steve/Bucky in the background featuring Appalachian Bucky's OC sisters from the "Backhoe" universe) for thegirldetectivesblog

Natasha Romanov/Sam Wilson

Yavannie/heyitsyav - CA:TWS Nat/Sam soulmate AU art of Sam showing Natasha her name on his arm in a bunker for @secondalto (MTH 2022)

Pepper Potts/Tony Stark

messypeaches - "Fearful Symmetry" (post-CA:CW AU fic where Bucky is a werecat and Pepper has Extremis) for Dogsled

Sam Wilson/Original Character

zenaidamacrouras1 - "A Passel of Backhoes" (non-powered fic with Steve/Bucky in the background featuring Appalachian Bucky's OC sisters from the "Backhoe" universe) for thegirldetectivesblog

Steve Rogers/Thor

@daisytarget - "Godlight" (Steve/Thor genderbent fic where Steve is a fallen Roman god and Thor stays on Earth after the Battle of New York) for @bulkyphrase and @alwaysabrighterdarkness

Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

@burntheedges - "Deal" (MCU Steve/Tony fic where Steve mother hens Tony when Tony gets a minor injury and needs to take it easy) for alwaysabrighterdarkness

hkandi/@hkandiu - "A little bit you, a little bit me" (MCU Steve/Tony fic where schedule conflicts interfere with their relationship) for @captainneverever

Nixie DeAngel/nixies-creations - "Always Have A Backup" (MCU Steve/Tony fic where Steve and Tony take Morgan trick-or-treating and accompanying mood board) for @gottalovev (MTH 2022) - "Be My Only Hope, I Beg Of You" (Steve/Tony AU fic where king consort Steve, married to Brock Rumlow, will do anything to sway warlord Tony to spare his people) for @sabrecmc (MTH 2022)

Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop

onthecyberseas - "Finding Our Way" (post-The Marvels Yelena/Kate fic where Carol and Kate make significant discoveries as the Young Avengers go on their first mission) for puzzlebean

[missameliep]

Second Chances - Chapter Twenty Five: It starts with a kiss

Book: Desire and Decorum – Modern AU 

Pairings: Prince Hamid x Elizabeth (OC); Briar Daly x Edmund Marlcaster

Characters: Elizabeth Foredale (OC); Prince Hamid; Briar Daly; Edmund Marlcaster.

Rating: M (see trigger warnings in the notes bellow)

Word count: ~8k

Summary: After the drinking games at Edgewater, before sunrise, someone will reveal their feelings; and fortunately those suffering with a hungover, won't need to deal with it alone.

A/N: 

All characters belong to Pixelberry, except OC. Turkish words are translated in the notes in the end.

Trigger warnings: mentions of past drinking and drug consumption. Reader discretion advised.

This is my submission to @choicesprompts ' Flufftober 2024 Choices - prompts 1 (First Kiss)

September, 2018 – London – Friday night – six weeks before the weekend at Edgewater 

Slumped onto one of the large armchairs settled in the middle of the game room, Edmund used one controller to adjust the lights, a softer blueish hue surrounded them, and the other to select an option, starting the gameplay and its characteristic music blasted. 

Elizabeth sighed and asked, “Are you sure you’re not going? It’ll be fun.” 

“I avoided Theresa’s boring soirée at the Holloways and am finally free to enjoy a quiet night leading an assassin through Ancient Egypt, so unless a raging fire erupts, I’m not leaving this house.” 

“It's Friday night, Ed! I can’t believe you’d rather play video games instead of going out with us… Didn’t you say you and Annabelle were friends?” 

“I’ve said she was Harry’s friend, and we share a few common interests, but pubs crawl or whatever you folks will be doing is not one of them. Could you please move a bit to the left? You’re blocking the screen...” 

Crossing her arms, she huffed and stepped aside.  

“You complained you’re a twenty-four-year-old that lives a seventy-year-old man’s life and yet I’m inviting you to a night out with fun people and you’d rather stay home…” she shook her head slowly at him. 

“Not tonight, Eliza! Maybe next week I can go out and pretend to be young. But give me a few days’ notice to prepare myself...” 

A light tap on the doorframe and Elizabeth’s face darted to the brunette standing with a wide smile framed by flamming red lips.  

“Lizzy, I hope I’m not interrupting… but Annabelle and Luke texted they’re already there.” 

“I was just saying goodbye to my stepbrother. I don’t think you’ve met, have you?” 

The man sighed, before pausing the game. His gaze slowly moved from the screen and when he turned around to face the friend by the door his jaw almost dropped to the floor. The sight of the woman in black skinny trousers and a burgundy blouse waving at him with the most beautiful smile he has ever seen stole his breath away. 

“Hi, Edmund!”  

“Hi. Hello. You... Ah... Hi,” he mumbled, unable to control the increasing racing of his heart. Is this what a heart attack feels like? he wondered, while brushing his clammy hands against his trousers. 

Conscious of the impact she caused, Briar huffed a quiet laugh and shifted to address her friend. 

“Nice to meet you, Edmund,” she said while shaking his hand. “I hope we meet again.” 

“I am going with you!” he blurted out. 

“You are?” Elizabeth’s head whipped in his direction, and she stared in disbelief as he turned off the game and put the controller down at the coffee table. 

“I just need to go to my room,” he said rising from the armchair and brushing past them, “Five minutes. I’ll meet you by the door.” 

Briar’s eyes followed the man almost running down the hallway, and she giggled. 

“Does it run in the family?” 

With a puzzled look, Elizabeth’s eyes darted to the same direction Briar was staring and she caught a glimpse of Edmund sprinting down the hall, “What does?”  

“Being cute and a dork?”  

October 28th, 2018 – Edgewater – Sometime after the drinking game 

It’s hard to tell when Edmund realized it was not the best idea for an engaged man to go knock on the door of a woman who is not his fiancée. It's even worse to do so in the middle of the night while slightly drunk.

He should’ve taken a cold shower to get rid of the idea that wormed its way into his mind, overshadowing every other thought concocted by his brain.

But he didn’t.

Anyways, he hates cold showers.

Staggering out of his room didn’t clear his mind or brought the realization of how bad that idea was. Crossing the few meters that separated his room from Briar’s door didn’t do it for him either. Not even when he tapped lightly with his knuckles, praying she was already sleeping and wouldn’t hear it - however, even then, his heart was clutching at the hope she would. So that was not that enlightenment moment either.

When the door slightly cracked open to allow visual confirmation of the night visitor, Edmund took a deep steadying breath, but it did little to stop his hands from shaking.

A moment later, Briar leaned against the doorframe smiling at him with such warmth that it was impossible not to think she cherished him. Maybe the only woman who ever did. And that was the moment he realised it was either the most brilliant move or his worst idea ever. Still, he once more was torn between the options. 

Playing with a long lock of her hair, her gaze lingered on his face, and she asked with a smile, “Trouble sleeping?” 

“I need to talk. To get this out of my chest. Can I come in?” 

Masking her surprise with another smile, she nodded and moved to the side, no questions asked. 

That was their thing, wasn’t it? Heart to heart conversations in the middle of the night... Only this time, he would also see her face while talking... and maybe he would find the answers he wishes. 

The man zigzagged until his knee bumped in the bed, and he slumped on the mattress. Giggling, she closed the door.

“You’re sloshed, Eddie!” her giggles fanned his face when she sat on the bed beside him and helped him sit up.   

“I’m certainly not. How dare you imply – No, I’m utterly sloshed. I can’t even pretend I’m not.” He let out a heartfelt laughter, and she used a hand to cover his mouth and shush him.  

His clear blue eyes crinkled with a smile. The gentle touch of her hand and the proximity of their bodies made his heart race. It was a shame this blurriness prevented him from seeing her eyes more clearly and the natural form of her lips without any lipstick. But he could tell he loved them nonetheless.

“Quiet or you’ll wake everyone up,” she hissed, but there was no edge on her voice, while her hand slowly retreated. “What do you want to talk about?” 

“You’re beautiful,” he sighed, and a tentative hand reached out to rest on Briar’s cheek, who didn’t flinch. “The most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Even more, when I’m sober, because I can really see you... You’re a bit blurred now... and I can’t see your eyes... and I adore your eyes… they are so… so… intense… and warm... and kind... But my mind already knows you’re beautiful. Inside too. Not your insides... insides... like your guts... but your mind and your heart –” He stopped talking when she failed to stifle her giggles.  

“You’re laughing at me!” he mumbled, and pulled his hand away. 

Trying to stifle her giggles, she tried to remedy the situation, placing her hand on his bouncing knee when his uneasiness drove him to the edge of the mattress. She wasn’t certain if she wanted him to stay, but she didn’t want him to leave yet.

“Was that the urgent matter you needed to ‘get out of your chest’?” she questioned with a soft voice, matching the proximity shared. His attention immediately returned to her, and a timid smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

“No, but your beauty is too distracting…” There was a lilt of laughter in his tone, and his fingers combed his ash blonde hair back and rested at the nape of his neck.  

“I won’t apologise for that,” she huffed a laugh, and her cheeks were noticeable darker from blushing because of his words, and this alone almost sobered him up.  

Edmund leaned forward, closing the gap between them, and his breath carried the scent of mint flavoured toothpaste mixed with a hint of liquor – more than a hint, actually.  

She suspected the liquor fuelled this unexpected audacity, considering how shy and restrained he was during their ride this afternoon; however, if asked, he would say this was all about her, her presence was intoxicating, and his self-control reached its limit tonight. 

Her breath hitched when his hand touched her cheek this time. Closing her eyes, she revelled on the feather light touch of his thumb caressing her velvety skin, following a path towards her mouth. When he traced the curves of her lips, it quietened everything else but her thunderous heartbeats. 

Her tongue was emptied, no flirty or funny words ready to fly away... In fact, every brain cell was screaming for her to shut up and kiss him; and his were probably doing the same, considering the way his hooded eyes fixed on her mouth when he leaned even closer. Without any warning, he bowed until his lips were a hair’s breadth away from hers. Their gazes locked for a second that lasted an eternity, a silent dialogue between their yearnings.  

The pull of her luscious lips became so irresistible.  

Waiting for permission, his lips ghosted hers and they were so close he could almost taste her exhales. 

Briar said nothing, licked her lips and closed the gap.

At first, his lips touched hers delicately, then more insistently when his hand slid to the back of her neck and brought their faces closer. It was awkward for a few seconds, too much tension, noses bumping and eyes wide open staring at the other; until her hands cradled his cheeks and gently tilted his head to adjust his position.  

This was enough to make it more and more enjoyable. Her lips glided over his, and when she captured his lower lip between hers, he let out a barely audible gasp. And she made a mental note about his reaction.  

More confident, one of his hands caressed her knee while the fingers on the one nestled on the nape of her neck delved into her hair, eliciting goosebumps and she let out a sigh.

The moment he parted his lips, allowing their tongues to meet for the first time, it felt as if the sole purposes of their lips and tongues were to kiss one another.  

When she pulled away to try and catch her breath, his lips followed hers, and she smiled to herself satisfied, both hands cradling his face.  

Meanwhile, Edmund’s entire body tingled, and there was a pleasant warmth enveloping him, as if being swaddled by a duvet someone else warmed just for you.

Looking at her, his brain buzzed with a swarm of thoughts. Did he drink too much or was there really something different about kissing Briar? A spark. An energy. A connection. 

“Did you feel it too? Tell me I’m not bloody crazy…” he asked, leaning his forehead to touch hers. 

“I’m not a psychiatrist, Eddie… but I think you lost your mind. I definitely did, too.” 

With a huff, his head tilted back, and before another loud laughter escaped his mouth, she covered it with her hand. This time, he grabbed it and kissed her palm gently, and her eyes fluttered close. 

“We’re both too sloshed for this...” 

“I can’t… I can’t think of anything else. Only you, Briar.” 

Hearing those words was bittersweet. It was exactly what she hoped for, but not like this. Not a drunk confession. And especially not after spending time with Theresa and knowing she’s oblivious to their flirting and growing affection. And now they’re kissing while she sleeps! 

“You shouldn’t say things like that...” she chided, “Your fiancée is asleep somewhere... over there...” Her free hand pointed randomly at the wall beside them, and he grimaced.  

“This has nothing to do with her… let’s pretend for a moment I’m not engaged.”  

Frowning, she pulled her hand from his grasp.  

“What a nasty thing to say!”  

“Briar,” Edmund called her name, his voice softer and more slurred, but she didn’t look back at him and pushed his chest. “I told you, Theresa and I… that is not real… she doesn’t love me either… she loves… loved… somebody else… not me… but you and I… I –”  

“Is she aware of how you feel? Because the engagement seems pretty real to her! She showed me pictures of bloody wedding dresses!” 

Edmund’s hand rubbed his face, and he exhaled loudly.  

“If you’re here for a one nightstand, just... own it! Don’t sweet talk me...” 

“Briar, I think – not think, I know… I fell for you.” 

Slack jawed, she gaped, and it took her a few breaths to find the words again. “Eddie… You shouldn’t say that either. You do have a fiancée and you’re sloshed… I know you’ll regret everything tomorrow... and leave me heartbroken.” 

“Never. You got me head over heels… I’m yours.” 

Briar’s face tilted upwards, and she stared at the ceiling for a long moment and let out a loud frustrated exhale. If cupid was a real thing, she would murder hers slowly and painfully. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” she muttered under her breath. 

“Is it Woods?” 

“Arthur?” Her head whipped to look at him. “What does Arthur have to do with this mess?” 

“Do you love him?” 

“I-” she paused and pressed her lips together. “I could... eventually... but not when... because of this..." Her finger pointed back and forward at them. 

There was too much satisfaction in hearing those words, and he let out a relieved sigh. 

“You feel it too?” he asked, and his voice was barely above a whisper. 

“What if I do? Does it change anything?” 

Edmund tentatively touched her face and guided her eyes to look back at him. “It changes all!”

“How?” she asked, but immediately changed her mind and waved her hands. “Please, don’t tell me... or... I’ll believe you.” 

“Believe me.” 

He pulled her in for another kiss, and all the fight left her when his tongue swirled with hers. He was already leaning to push her down on the mattress, but she pushed him back.

“No more kissing.” Out of breath, Briar placed a hand on his chest to put some distance between them and held her head high. “Talk. Tell me what you’ll do. I won’t be anyone's playtoy.”

Edmund obediently complied. It felt invigorating to make plans for his own future without consulting with his mother first, and especially plans that included Briar. They talked some more and kissed one last time before sleep claimed their eyes sometime before dawn.

Briar's face was the last thing he saw before his eyes fluttered close, and he thought that was heavenly.

A persistent buzzing noise invaded Elizabeth’s dreamless sleep, almost like the sounds of cicadas in scorching summer nights demanding the world’s attention to their performance. Answering the compelling call, her eyes fluttered open, but it was the same as if they didn’t. Surrounded by darkness, the coldness kissing her feet that escaped from underneath the duvet reminded her it wasn’t summer. She immediately pulled it, rubbing the cold feet against the mattress.  

While her body reluctantly woke up and her brain regained consciousness, she was confronted by confusion and immense discomfort all at once, reminders of the insane amount of alcohol she ingested last night.  

Her head ached as if samba percussionists were beating repeatedly their instruments out of cadence to punish her. The parchedness in her mouth seemed like she had wandered the desert for days. Trying to alleviate it, her lips parted, but her mouth had dried out and it was difficult to swallow and get rid of the disgusting taste sitting on her tongue.  

The buzzing sound echoed again, attacking her ears, and she realized it was probably the mobile vibrating with incoming messages over the nightstand. Even though she wondered what time it was, the identity of the caller or texter and their reasons to be trying to reach her in what she assumed was the middle of the night didn’t pique her interest at all, if anything it riled her up for disturbing her rest. Mustering the strength to reach the nightstand to turn off the phone, she tried to roll over, but something blocked her path and restrained her motion. Not something, but someone. 

In the dark she couldn’t rely on her sight, but her other senses worked perfectly, collecting information of quiet sounds of breathing behind her, the light pressure of a body against her back, and the arm she finally noticed dangling over her waist underneath the covers. And lastly, the fragrance that reached her nostrils was unmistakable. 

“Hamid?” her voice sounded hoarse in the quiet room, almost unrecognisable.  

The body stirred, and he hummed his response. His warm breath fanned her neck, and if she wasn’t so overwhelmed, she would have enjoyed it. 

Why are you in my bed, dude? The question died in her tongue, but not the surprise stirred by his presence. 

“Do you need to go to the toilette again?” his sleepy voice reached her ears.  

Again? When did I even go to the toilet?  

Her mind raced, trying to cling to any memory that could explain Hamid sleeping on her bed. But she found none. Maybe she should take the hint, get up, go to the toilet, wash her face, and drink some water. And definitely get some aspirins before her head explodes, and something for the burning stomach and nausea too. And maybe if she feels better, she will remember. 

“I’m thirsty,” she said fighting the dryness of her mouth. 

His arm retreated, and his hand lightly brushed the skin of her abdomen, and soon was gone, but not the goosebumps on its wakening.   

“The glass is empty, but if you give me a minute, I’ll get you some more…”  

“Don’t worry. I’ll get up…” she said without moving to get off the bed right away.  

His weight shifted in the mattress. Hamid rubbed his eyes and stretched his arm aimlessly until his fingers reached the switch in the wall. The room was flooded by bright light.  

“Turn it off, please!” she squealed scrunching her eyelids. Her hands flew to her eyes, mostly because of the bright lights, and only partially because of the brief sight of his bare torso. “Why are you shirtless? Are you naked?” 

“Don’t you remember?”  

“I-I don’t…” 

“Allah Allah, I thought that was memorable...” 

The pacing of the tiny percussionists inside her brain grew even faster and stronger, and her heart joined the rhythm.  

“What are you talking about?” she dared ask with a strangled voice. 

“The re-enactment of the projectile vomit scene from the Exorcist,” he said very slowly, and realization dawned on her. 

“Oh, my god! I puked? On you?”  

“Fortunately, you had asked me to take you to the toilette, and my t-shirt was the target and not my face.” 

“I puked on you?” she repeated, shocked by the idea. 

What the flying fudge cracker! That's a whole new level of stupidity, isn’t it? Why did I drink this much? 

“I’m so sorry!” she mumbled, hiding her face in her hands. “That’s so gross… I-I… Sorry.”  

She wanted to run away and hide forever, but her body was so tensed it froze. 

“Hey,” he said softly, but she didn’t uncover her eyes. After calling her name, his hand reached one of hers, which she reluctantly let him grab – she couldn’t understand why on earth he was anywhere near her.

“It’s okay, Liz. You did nothing wrong.” 

“I’m pretty sure that’s untrue... I’m mortified... What else do I have to apologise for?” 

“Don’t worry, aside from the vomiting and being horny and handsy, drunk Liz makes delightful company...”

The joke did little to lessen her embarrassment. How can he be so chill about it? 

“What do you mean by ‘handsy’?” 

“You tried to kiss me and grab my butt.” 

“What? I would never!” she protested, knowing well enough that she prefers his sculpted torso and arms to his bottom, even though it has a nice round shape... And she's clearly still a bit horny. 

“You also took ‘no’ for an answer, which was remarkably respectful.” 

She let an exasperated huff through her mouth and pressed her hands against her face. “I can’t have this conversation now...” 

“We can revisit it some other time, I’ll gladly share the details.” 

“How about never?” 

Smiling, he sat straighter and lighted the lamp on the nightstand. His eyes, cleared of sleep, stared directly at hers, “Drinking like that is unusual to you, I understand. And you don’t have to feel embarrassed about what happened.” 

“That’s impossible...” she sighed and looked at him, wondering what else she has said and done. “Just to clarify, you’re not naked…” 

“No, I’m not. And I’d never cross that line. You were drunk and asked me to stay, and I did. To keep you company. That’s all.” 

Relief washed over her, and she smiled. “Thanks. For not… you know… and for sticking around.”  

“Don’t mention it. Someone had to hold your hair up, prevent you from dancing and falling on your magnificent bottoms, and bumping your head on the furniture.”  

“Oh, God! It did happen then!” Hamid nodded. “Is that why my head hurts?” Her fingers raked her hair, searching for any sign of a bump.  

“I’m pretty sure that’s the alcohol.” 

“What time is it?” 

He picked his mobile in the nightstand. “7:45.” Stealing a sideway glance at her worried face, his finger caressed the back of her hand, and he asked softly, “Are you sure you don’t want me to get you something to drink? Annabelle brought a bottle of isotonic drink. And I can get you something to eat…”  

“I – No, I’m fine now. Even thinking about food makes me sick… I’ll go to the... you know… and you... go back to sleep. Excuse me.” 

Hamid let go of her hand, and Elizabeth rolled to the opposite side of the bed, moving away from him, and not looking back even when she felt his stare. She swung her legs touching the carpet and noticed both her socks were gone. Her feet were heavy, just like the rest of her body, and she dragged them on her way to the en-suite. The touch of the frigid floor against the soles of her feet, caused her to shiver, and she mentally cursed not putting on the slippers. 

Closing the door, she barely had the time to turn on the light before her legs started giving away underneath her. Pressing her hands against the cool marble of the sink to support her weight, she avoided stumbling or collapsing to the floor. Performing every little task took too much energy, and she almost gave up on washing her face, but the invigorating cold water gave her the necessary boost to continue. By the time she took the toothbrush to her mouth, she needed to sit down. Flopping down into the wooden bench near the bathtub, she noticed Hamid’s white t-shirt soaked-wet dangling over the rim of the tub, and two pairs of socks hanging on the faucet.  

Suddenly, a panicked Hamid kneeling on the floor in front of her, begging her to keep her eyes open flashed before her eyes; was it a memory or her imagination? 

Her hand barely moved to brush her teeth, and her heavy eyelids were impossible to keep open with all the light around her. She would close them for one second, maybe two.  

The sound of the toothbrush falling and hitting the floor didn’t wake her up, but she couldn’t ignore the soft but persistent rapping on the door. 

“Liz,” Hamid asked softly, “are you alright?” 

Her hand rubbed the foam from her lips and chin, and she picked up the toothbrush from the floor. “I’m fine,” she replied getting up, and the movement made her dizzy. Slowly moving back to the sink, she heard him speaking again.  

“You’ve been in there for a very long time…” 

“I’m brushing my teeth.” 

She washed her mouth, took another gulp of tap water, and tied her hair in a high bun.

When she opened the door, Hamid was standing there, leaning against the doorframe with a worried look. It surprised her that he didn’t go back to sleep or to his own room. 

“How are you, really?” he asked, carefully speaking in a low tone that wouldn’t be uncomfortable considering the aftereffects of the alcohol.  

“I brushed my teeth, but my mouth still tastes like a smelly old brolly –” 

Hamid chuckled and it eased the frown of his brows. “That’s very specific. How do you even know what it tastes like?” 

“My mind does,” she sighed. “My head hurts. My stomach is on fire, and I could drink a bucket of water. And mostly I’m feeling incredibly dumb for drinking this much again...” And puking on you. 

“For now, we can take care of the head and stomach.” 

Walking past her, Hamid crouched and opened a door of the cabinet under the sink. With familiarity, he produced a white box with a red cross painted at the top from the first shelf and took a bottle of antacids and another of aspirins, both were placed on the sink in front of her.  

With a grimace she drank the liquid as instructed and the pill sat bitterly on her tongue while she waited for him to come back with the bottle of Gatorade.

Watching her swig half of the content of the bottle without stopping to breath, an amused smile parted his lips. 

“And for the dumbness –” 

“You’ll keep mocking me endlessly and not let me forget it...” her tongue was quicker and sharper than his ever would, and she huffed in frustration, letting her shoulders slump. 

“Why would I do that?” he asked softly, brows knitted together while trying to meet her gaze. 

She pursed her lips and said nothing in return. Shame taking over, her eyes focused on anything else but his face.  

“A word from you and I’ll never speak about tonight. A joke is not worth it, if it causes you pain. You can expect nothing but understanding from me. Like I said before, I truly believe you deserve kindness, hayatım[1], and not more criticism.”  

Her eyes flicked from her folded hands to his eyes, his expression changing from one of concern to a more relaxed one while he reminisced about the night before.  

“Last night, you have laughed, joked and been the most open around a group of people since I met you. You looked happy, truly happy. Relaxed. And that wasn’t just the alcohol. You were in a safe place and let your guard down. I agree drinking this much isn’t good for you... But why shaming yourself? Why not learning from it instead? You can’t change anything that happened, but you can make different choices in the future, if you desire, no? And if you don’t, I’ll hold your hair up again.” 

There was so much empathy in his tone that if she wasn’t so dehydrated, her eyes would be watering. She mouthed a soundless thank you and he inched closer. 

Standing behind her, he gently squeezed her shoulders, and they looked at each other’s reflections in the mirror.  

Instead of the pink plaid PJs, she was sporting a long sleeved green one with no buttons, and she wondered if Hamid was the one who changed it.  

As if reading her mind, he said softly, “Annabelle changed your clothes, after we cleaned you up.” 

“I must thank her later.” 

That was the first time she truly looked at herself.  

The reflection looking back at her was pale, her usual tan had completely vanished these past months; smudged eyeliner and dark stains of mascara accentuated the dark circles under her reddened eyes, which seemed smaller due to the puffy eyelids. She looked spent. The entangled hair had been pulled into a messy bun at the top of her head, and a few shorter curls had escaped the imposed restraint, sticking out close to her ears and neck. All in all, she was a complete mess while Hamid looked unfairly handsome with slightly flattened bed hair, the shadow of a beard and a big smile that caused the corners of his eyes to wrinkle; somehow, despite the vomiting, and deprivation of sleep she imposed him, there was so much adoration in his eyes that even in her current state was impossible to miss. 

“Hamid, can I ask you a question?” 

“Of course.” 

“Why are you here?” 

“Why are we all here, Liz? Isn’t that the fundamental Philosophical question?” 

“Silly,” she chided, and his chuckle was so very close to her ear when he leaned forward that raised all the hair in her body and fogged her brain for a while.

“You know what I mean! You could be sleeping tight in your bed right now... instead, you spent the night taking care of my dumb drunk arse... when you had no obligation to.” 

“I like your cute dumb drunk arse...” He winked, and she rolled her eyes. 

“I’m serious.” 

“So am I! I’m a fan.”

Chuckling, Hamid hugged her from behind, his arms wrapped around her waist, and he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Someone needed to hold your hair, and let’s say I know what it feels to be so utterly sloshed and not having anyone to look after me.” 

“You do?”  

He hummed. His breath fanned the bare skin of her neck.  

“But I won’t bother you with such an inane story. Let’s get you to bed.” 

“I wouldn’t mind listening to it...”  

His lips twitched, possibly surprised by the request, and he looked at her reflection in the mirror for a long moment, the way she hid a yawn against a palm, but still tried to keep her eyes focused on him. 

“Maybe some other time...” he replied while gently turning her around, but keeping her in the circle of his embrace, “You look about ready to fall asleep in my arms... not that I’d ever complain about that….” He winked at her, very flirty, in that Hamid-like fashion that makes her knees weak, and even though it wasn't far from the truth, she recognized the diversion right there in his words.

“I like a good bedtime story...” she said softly, tilting her face up to meet his gaze over her shoulder, “And your voice...” She might’ve learned a thing or two about charming someone with him.

“Then how could I not humour you?”

Smiling, Hamid helped her sit on the bed and pulled the covers over her legs, and she remained sitting, looking expectantly.

In the dimly lit room, Hamid sat in front of her, legs crossed, took a deep breath and broke the silence.

“I only got really sloshed a handful of times... My sisters took care of me, helped me hide it from my parents... But one time, it happened during a trip with friends... We went to Amsterdam for the weekend to celebrate my 19th birthday. Most of my memories are fogged... You must have seen what happens to six lads with loads of cash partying at Amsterdam...” 

“I actually never been there...” 

“Haven’t you? I must take you there. It's lovely in the spring.” 

His fingers reached her hand, and his thumb was very distractingly caressing the back of her hand, following the paths of green veins till her wrist and back. Another distraction, she realized. Caressing the back of his hand with her free hand in return, she asked, “What happened to you?” 

He hummed, and she suspected he was carefully choosing the words to continue. 

“Everything went brilliant until the night before our flight... We went clubbing and met these girls, very friendly, seniors at uni, gorgeous… and had us wrapped around their fingers.” He chuckled. “We followed them like puppies to another club and to another... By the time we got to the third one, I was so wasted, I could barely stand on my own, but I didn’t want to admit it and go back to the hotel... So, my friend Lewis stayed with me, but while he was away hitting on one of the girls or whatever… I don’t know… I guess I accepted a pill that was definitely not aspirin…” 

“Someone drugged you?” her voice shrieked, piercing her own brain, and she looked at his face over her shoulder, and he clicked his tongue. 

“Nobody was sober at that point, and I probably said I was cool with it...” Hamid paused at her concerned expression and tried to explain, “The day before, I tried space cake and smoked a little hashishe... anyway... It was a harmless experience. We laughed for hours sitting at the grass...” 

“But you were already drunk! You couldn’t consent!” Elizabeth snapped, head racing with all the legal issues this story poses. This was the sort of thing she worried about whenever going our to clubs and parties and one of the reasons she was vigilant with her and her friends’ drinks, and to hear something like that happened to Hamid not in theory made her chest tight, even though he sounded so nonchalant about it.

Hamid’s shoulders raised almost to his ears, and he let out a deep breath; the smile faltered a little and his expression transformed entirely.

Was he regretting telling me?

“Sorry,” she said, shaking her head, “I’m doing it again...” 

“It’s alright.” He intertwined his fingers with hers. “Maybe I should stop, so you can sleep.” 

She shook her head, widening her eyes to fight the sleep.

“I woke up at the hospital. Someone had found me lying on a bench at Oosterpark and called emergency. I had no documents, no coat, and no shoes... It was winter. My clothes were drenched from the rain…” 

“Wow... that's... you could have died...” Elizabeth pointed out the obvious, and instantly regretted it.

“Trust me, I know. The doctor gave me a long and detailed speech about hypothermia. And drugs. And unprotected sex, even though I don’t remember even kissing anybody… They poked me with needles, ran tests and gave me some pills just in case…”  

“Dude…” Elizabeth muttered but stopped before any of the concerns bubbling in her brain escaped again.  

He looked expectantly, but she didn’t know what to say. Taking a deep breath, she struggled to shut down that voice in her mind whispering judgmental and useless advice about something that happenend to him years ago, and listened to her heart. Pushing the covers aside, she moved on the bed and sat on the balls of her feet right in front of him.

“I – I’m sorry this happened to you,” she said softly and genuinely, and his expression eased when no chiding came out of her mouth.  

“I’m not,” he said, and the smile was back on his face. “Almost dying in such a stupid way had positive outcomes.” 

She gaped. “How can you see a bright side in this story, Hamid?” 

“There is always a silver lining,” he said with a familiar cheerful tone, but still soft enough not to bring her discomfort. “First, I realized I didn’t like drinking that much or getting hungover… I dance better, and my jokes are funnier when I’m sober. And from that day on, I’m an advocate of remembering the things I do and not losing my passport. So, I decided not to drink. Unless it is raki with babam and dedem[2]. Second, I don’t know if I’ll live a short or long life; but I can choose how to live my best life, with no regrets, appreciating the beauties, welcoming the joys... and obviously, adrenaline rushing through my veins fuels me!” He looked pointedly at her, and she remembered the incident with the horse. 

“Not with disregard to my safety,” he let out the words with a chuckle, holding her hands in his. “And, when my time comes, hopefully it won’t be blacked out drunk in a park bench...”

She held his hands tighter, as if possible to shield him from such a fate with sheer will. 

“I hope your learning process included finding a better group of friends,” she mumbled, and he chuckled.  

“Don’t be so hard, güzelim[3]. They are good people. At the time, we were too young and sheltered… mortality was not part of our vocabulary.”  

How incredible it must be to be so careless and not have this sort of concern!  

That was never the case for her.  

Death and sickness have been her companions in life for so long that her identity is linked to those grim subjects. In the past five years, no decision in her life has been made without considering either of them. Letting out a long and loud sigh, she pondered how different they were in so many more ways than she first assumed.  

“Gosh, if it were me… I’d…” she trailed off, and he jumped in to complete her sentence, “You wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

Lowering her gaze, but unable to control the blush that bloomed in her cheeks, she admitted he was right and that she wouldn’t leave him alone. 

“However,” she added, “I was going to say that if I were you, I’d never want to see those people again! How could they leave you like that? What sort of friend does that?” Her indignation transpired in her tone and disgusted face. 

“I don’t blame them. It wasn’t their responsibility to take care of me... I’m responsible for my choices, good or bad.”  

Meeting his eyes, there was no shame in them, on the contrary, Hamid’s countenance expressed relief. Noticing the attentive gaze studying him, he smiled. 

“I never spoke about any of this; not even to my sisters.” 

“Why not?” 

“They would gang up on me, obviously… and everything turned out alright. My friend Burak found my coat at the club, my passport and mobile were in the pocket... A happy ending.” 

She watched his face and the wide and bright smile directed at her. 

“You didn’t need to tell me either, so, why did you?” 

“There’s a simple explanation for that,” he said, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “In case you haven’t noticed, you are very special to me, Elizabeth Foredale, and I want you to know me. The real me. Isn’t this what people do? To get to know each other?” 

Even in the low light, his eyes were shining. His gaze could be described with many words, none of which was a synonym for friendly.

Touched by his words and without giving herself time to change her mind, Elizabeth’s hand cradled his jaw, and her lips touched his dimpled cheek in a gentle but lingering kiss.

After a fraction of a second to overcome the surprise, Hamid revelled on it, letting his eyes flutter closed to fully appreciate the gentleness of her touch, and his lips stretched into a wide grin.

It was nothing like the fleeting air kisses they often share. 

Before she considered ending the kiss, his hand covered hers, keeping it in place.

The alchool had drained her body, but right now every nerve was suddenly alight by his presence, by the warm touch of his hand on top of hers.

His eyes fluttered open to meet hers in a sidelong glance. They knew. They had crossed the line. They were no longer in friends’ territory. And, for the first time, she let herself want more, ignoring the boundary she herself tried to place between them.

She got greedy. 

When her lips slowly but steadily glided over the roughness of the slight growth of beard of his unshaved face to the turned corner of his smile, Hamid let out a soft exhale through his nose. The warmth of the air travelled over the skin of her hand and wrist inflaming her entirely, and her heartbeats sped up.

Taking a deep breath, her lungs were filled with Hamid's fancy perfume. It was intoxicating in an unexpected way: it quietened the entire world. Actually it quietened her mind. For once, her brain was entirely focused on this moment and all the overwhelming feelings Hamid stirred on her.

Any hesitancy slipped away at the sight of his tongue moistening his lips. And that was the last thing her eyes registered. Her brain could no longer focus on anything that was not Hamid's lips smoothly moving over hers.

His lips were very soft, incredibly so against her own. They brushed against hers for a brief quiet moment, but it was enough to irradiate a heat, an electricity throughtout her body. It was like a dam breaking, and she was flooded with so much want. The second time her lips brushed against his, she was certain this wasn't like any kiss she had before.

She pulled away enough to gaze into his eyes, the corners crinkled by an adoringly smile; even such a diminute distance seemed unbearable to Hamid, and his hand cupped her cheek to close the distance between their mouths almost entirely.

The tip of his long curved nose brushed against the tip of hers, and she could hear the smile in his voice when he said her name in awe, even with her eyes closed. His thumb brushed her lips, and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

In her mind, Elizabeth envisioned more than once where and when their first kiss could happen. It always envolved a perfect romantic scenario, careful planning, fancy dinners and Hamid probably literally sweeping her off her feet. However, the reality was unplanned, and her brain might have short-circuited at some point... There's not even a carefully selected soundtrack playing in the background, just the sounds of their breathing and the pitter-patter of rain.

Yet, nothing could be more perfect than the way his lips welcomed hers. Her fantasies couldn’t compete with the reality of the tenderness of every gesture of his, the pressure of his lips, the light touch of his tongue over her lower lip, or the hand cupping her cheek so very gently.

When Elizabeth pulled back, his nose nuzzled her jaw and down her neck, and she gasped. The sound pleased Hamid, who hummed against her jaw and captured her lips one last time.

Her eyes met his briefly, but she quickly lowered her face, overcame by embarrassment and doubts of what to do or say.

The backs of his fingers caressed her cheek, and he whispered, “I could kiss you forever, Liz.”  

When her eyes raised to meet his, Hamid was already staring at her. His gaze could be described with many words, none amongst them was a synonym for friendly, and she rolled her lips inside her mouth.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” 

She shook her head, and took a deep calming breath.

“You make me feel many things,” -- happy, giddy, confused, excited... and several other she'd be mortified to admit even to herself... -- “’Uncomfortable’ is not one of them.” 

His lips split into the widest grin she’s ever seen, before he swallowed and asked in a low and husky voice, “Care to tell me how I make you feel now?”  

“Right now?” Her lips rolled inside her mouth, and she focused on the feeling of being in his arms earlier. Except for her dear father, she can’t remember feeling safer around a man nor willing to spend a lifetime in an embrace. “Happy. Safe.” 

“I am glad you do. I want you to trust me.” 

She met his stare again, and he was flashing a broad unabashed smile. They didn’t move an inch, staring into each other's eyes. Was she even breathing? She couldn’t be certain she was. 

“Aren’t you curious about how you make me feel?”  

His question startled her. Of course, she wanted to know that, but how could she speak over the thunderous beating of her heart and risking dozens of butterflies flying away if she opened her mouth, like in the Brazilian soap operas with magical realism she used to watch with her mother as a kid. She pursed her lips and nodded, which was enough for him to carry on. 

“You also make me feel many emotions, Liz. The most frequent is happiness. A complete, perfect and unwavering bliss whenever I am around you. And even when we’re not together… My days are more vibrant since you are in my life…” 

“Even after tonight?”  

“Why would tonight change anything?” 

“Aren’t you even a little upset? Tired?” 

“Tired?” He clicked his tongue. Leaning impossibly closer, he whispered into her ear, “Inşallah[4], someday you’ll see how long I can keep going without any sleep...” When Elizabeth shivered, the pleased smirk in his lips indicated that was the intended effect, and he rubbed his hands against her arms. “However, you, my dear, seriously need to rest.” 

“Actually, father wanted to have breakfast with me and after brunch I promised to go with Annabelle and Briar to this spa at Moorfield and –” 

“As much as I believe you to be an overachiever, you need to rest, Liz,” he cut off the flood of words. “Besides, the last Annabelle checked on you was around 4am... So, trust me on this, go back to bed, we won’t see any of them before lunch. And message your father, tell him you have a minor headache and will be staying in your room until you feel better…”  

Elizabeth listened to his reasoning and bit one thumbnail. Judging by the way she looked, no amount of coffee would keep her functional long enough to perform any social activity. Finally, she gave in to the irresistible call of the bed.  

Hamid went to the en-suite, while she typed the message to her father, ignoring the stinging feeling in her stomach, that could be guilty from skipping breakfast with him or due to the hole the alcohol probably burnt there. But Hamid was right, it was past the time to prioritize her needs, even if it meant disappointing others. 

After texting her friends, she was about to go through the several notifications in the screen, when the en-suite door opened and closed. Hamid’s silhouette strolling toward the soft light of the bedroom was all broad shoulders and strong arms. Over the screen of the mobile, her gaze fixed at him, admiring his confident swagger towards her.  

The blue light from the screen denounced her attempt of appreciating the sight inconspicuously, and Hamid grinned at the attention but for once chose to say nothing about it. 

When he turned around to settle the medicines and a glass of water over the nightstand, Elizabeth admired his taut muscles, and noticed the dimples on his lower back right above the waist band of his jeans. Her fingers craved to map every inch of his uncovered skin, and the thought alone sent a flow of heat all over her body. She forced her eyes back to the screen and turned the airplane mode on before putting the mobile away.  

Leaning forward, he touched the side of her face gently and kissed the top of her head. 

“I think you’re all set,” he whispered against her hair, “I’ll let you sleep now.” 

“You’re leaving?” her tone didn’t conceal the surprise and disappointment. 

“Don’t you want me to go?” 

“I-I wouldn’t mind… If you wanted to... stay... it’s a big bed…” She fidgeted with the hem of the shirt, without raising her gaze to meet his, and couldn't find the right words to speak, and stuttered the ones she found, even if they didn't make sense, “It doesn’t... mean that we... anything... I guess... but you don’t have to go. If you don’t want to.” 

“I understand," he said, smiling to himself. "If I stay, do we get to cuddle like before?” 

She swallowed and couldn’t prevent the smile from curling her lips whem she nodded.  

Without another word, he sat on the bed.

She moved aside to give him space, and went under the covers, lying on her back. The fragrance of his perfume on the pillows was inebriating.

When the mattress shifted with his weight, she took a deep breath. The lights were dimmed to their softest glow and a moment later, Hamid was lying beside her on his back, stirring the flutter of thousands of butterflies in her stomach. 

He stretched one arm, adjusted the pillow over it, and, with a nod of his head, invited her to rest her head.

Elizabeth obliged, moving closer and let her head rest in the pillow. Hamid's arm encircled her waist, he kissed her temple and whispered in her ear, “Sleep tight, Liz!”

Her answer was an almost inaudible “You too, Hamid.”

In Hamid's embrace, Morpheus visited Elizabeth unsurprisingly fast, not giving her any time for second guessing her decisions.  

A familiar melody invaded his dreamless sleep and Edmund stirred in the bed, failing to recognize his whereabouts.  

The mattress shifted when the woman sleeping beside him turned around, facing the other way. Flashes from their conversation and kisses invaded his mind, but were soon chased away by the persistent melody getting louder.

His hand patted his pants first, and then the space between them until he found the mobile that slipped from his pocket.  

It was dark and he could barely open his sleepy eyes, but he would recognize the caller’s picture anywhere.  

His gaze flicked to the black hair sprawled over the duvet, and he jumped out of the bed, instinctively shying away from the incriminating scene. Moving closer to the wall, he coughed twice, clearing his throat, before accepting the call, and prayed for silence. 

“Hello, mother,” he spoke in the lowest but clearest tone possible trying not to wake the woman in bed. 

“Let me talk to Theresa,” the woman barked the order, forgetting any rule of politeness – not that she reserved that kind of curtesy to her eldest son, especially not after he became the only one. 

“She’s currently not...” Edmund stuttered and considered what to answer. “We’re not together... at the moment. I was sleeping.” 

“She’s not with you!” The woman muttered something under her breath he could only assume were not compliments about his fiancée’s competence to follow orders. “Find her. And have her call me. Immediately.” 

“Alright, mother. I’ll let her know you –” 

Before he could finish the sentence, the call ended.  

The conscience of where he was standing and with whom and the possibility of a scandal was enough to force out of his body any sleep. A last longingly gaze focused on the woman sleeping before he cautiously sneaked out of the bedroom. This was just the beginning.

Notes:

[1] Hayatım – Turkish – term of endearment that means “my life” or “my dear or darling” in this context. 

[2] Babam and dedem – Turkish – father and grandfather. 

[3] Güzelim – Turkish – mean “my beautiful”. 

[4] Inşallah – In Turkish, the word inşallah or inşaallah means "If God wishes and grants" 

[vroomvroommbtch]

Car’s outside - DR x fem!OC

Masterlist

Summary: They hated the distance more than anything in the world, so they finally get to do something about it. 

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!OC

Warnings:  Fluff af and language bc idk how to write without swearing.

Word count: 3.9k

A/N: Did I spend my whole Saturday writing this? Yes. Was ROC an inspiration somehow? Maybe. I’m obsessed with writing 2018 Dan and Jas? Absolutely. The fact that I finished this is a miracle?? Yes sir. Anyway, hi kids! This one its kind of short but cute af so I hope you like it. I love this two together bc they’re the most wholesome couple in the world. Whatever, hope u like it and let’s pray I get to post again soon lol Let me know what you think?? See ya soon!  ♥️✌🏻

---

Car’s outside.

-

July 2018.

London was gloomy. It was yet another grey day waiting for the rain to fall at any given time, but Jas knew what made it even more grey and sad was Daniel’s bags right by the door, waiting for him to grab them and leave. He was going to leave the next morning because he needed to be in Germany for yet another race, which meant just being able to see him through the screen of her phone. It meant no kissing, no touching, no hugging and just thinking about it made Jas feel uneasy.

After almost one month of blissful kind of domestic life, letting each other go for two weeks sounded insane. Damn, it wasn’t even two whole weeks because she was gonna be in Hungary for the last race of the first part of the calendar. She was gonna be there by his side ready to go on vacations with Daniel as soon as his job was done, but it felt awful even if they were going to be two hours' flight from each other. Two hours flight and nine days apart and she was gonna be back in his arms. Nine pathetic long days to be back in her favorite place in the world. To think about that was what made it bearable.

After six months of relationship, Jas was still not used to letting him go. None of them were used to letting each other go. Even if Daniel was used to not spending much time with his family and friends, he was always telling Jas how difficult it was for him too. ‘I just fucking hate letting you go’ was what he said time after time as they covered each other in kisses. There was no better way to describe it, that’s why during that grey night Jas hugged him a bit tighter, trying to not wake him up in the process. His idea of watching a movie turned into Daniel falling asleep half an hour into whatever random movie he picked up. Then that turned into Jas ignoring the movie and putting her focus on her boyfriend. His face was hiding in the crock of her neck, slow breaths hitting her skin and messy curls tickling her. Even when it was the middle of the goddamn summer and outside it was warm and humid, all she wanted was to stay like that forever, with Daniel using her as his pillow. All she wanted was to make the night longer so Tuesday wouldn’t come.

They both knew how things were and that at some point they always had to say goodbye, but this time was especially hard. Everything was a rollercoaster since Monaco. After their love confession that Sunday everything clearly was different. After that day everything was somehow way more intense, that included the sadness of flying back home to Dublin when Daniel had to go to Canada. She hated it. She hated having to kiss him goodbye and the ‘See you again soon’ promise. She hated those long farewell hugs knowing she couldn’t stay there forever. She hated the feeling inside her chest because her whole body was yelling for her to drop everything and stay. After all, that was the right thing to do. But she had to ignore it, take a deep breath, push the knot in her throat to a side all to whisper a shy ‘I love you’ with a sad smile on her face.

But his week in Canada felt somehow short. The nights were terrible and felt eternal, but the afternoons weren’t that bad and the next thing she knew Jas was on her way to the airport to pick Daniel up. After that, they didn’t move from each other’s side. They went from Dublin to France, not just for the race but also to spend her birthday there. After that they went to Austria and thank God she was there not only for his birthday but also to do everything in her power to calm him down after that terrible DNF on Sunday. After that, they went to the UK and that’s where they had been since then.

It was weeks of waking up and going to bed by his side. It was weeks of not being able to bathe alone because Daniel would sneak in the shower with her every single time. It was weeks of waking up with Daniel between her legs or covering her body with kisses and doing the same for him. It was weeks of giggling as they reminded each other to not be so loud because they were in a hotel room, and someone would complain about the noise. Then it was days of almost a normal life in London. It was days of doing the most normal things a couple could do. It was days of making dinner, grocery shopping, getting a text from Daniel saying ‘I’m on my way home’ and knowing he was not talking about a place but about her. It was weeks of being home simply because they were together, not caring about the country they were in.

After all that she didn’t want to move from his side, but she needed to go back home, and Daniel needed to go to Germany, but all that could wait till the next day. She even wanted to leave dinner for a bit later if that included not moving from her place. They were perfectly fitted together on the couch, and she was so comfortable that moving felt like a tragedy. Moving from there left wrong, but she didn’t have much of an option. All she could do was wish time would freeze for a while, but it was nothing but impossible.

“Baby...” Jas called him as softly as possible, running her fingers around his back under his shirt and tangling her other hand in his messy curls. But just like she imagined, all she got in response was a soft groan coming from her boyfriend, which didn’t surprise her at all. “Danny, baby, c'mon, you gotta get up. I gotta go make dinner” she insisted as she kissed his forehead.

If something always worked with sleepy Daniel was the threat of Jas leaving his side. She couldn’t blame him because every time she would do the same. Every time one of them would be asleep, if the other threatened with leaving, they would automatically react. This time wasn’t different. This time, with the threat of Jas leaving his side, Daniel tightened his grip around her waist, making his statement very clear. “Don’t” was all he said, voice so sleepy and raspy that it did nothing but give Jas another reason to stay.

“Can you look at me, sunshine?” Jas asked gently, kissing his forehead once more. And true to his promise of making all her wishes come true, Daniel looked at her. With the sleepiest face and through half-opened eyelids, Daniel moved out of his little shelter and looked at her. And fuck, how she loved him and his handsome face. She could spend hours just looking at him and kissing every inch of his face. She could stay there the whole night kissing those perfect lips and looking at his brown eyes. All that and his contiguous smile and his crazy curls and that tanned skin were her perdition, so she had to do a big effort to focus and talk again. “Dia duit, grà“

“I’ve no idea what the fuck you just said but it sounded sexy” Daniel murmured, running his nose against hers as he slowly moved one of his hands to her ass, just to rest it here as he would normally do.

And like every single time, Jas would smile and steal one kiss as she moved impossibly close to him because it was never enough when it comes to being near Daniel. “Weren't’ you asleep?” she wondered as his fingers slowly moved around her skin. Not that she couldn’t blame him when she was wearing nothing but panties and one of his shirts.  

“Yeah, but my sexy girlfriend woke me up” he smirked, knocking the air out of her lungs like every time he did that. Daniel’s smile could convince her of absolutely everything, so she could imagine how that night was gonna end.

“Excuse me, you're the one who abandoned me in the middle of the movie. You’re very lucky you’re handsome and I love you very much” Jas joked, poking his ribs as she tried to sound as serious as possible. She was the one who normally would fall asleep in his arms so she would never blame him for such a thing. Nothing would make her feel better than to know that Daniel could get some rest from to time after such a complicated year, so he could sleep all she wanted. The only problem was when she wouldn’t be able to leave the couch without waking him up because he decided to turn into a human version of a koala.

“Sorry ‘bout that, princess” he murmured, moving his fingers through the elastic of her panties as he kissed his way back to her neck. “I can pay you back for the inconvenient”

It took everything from her to not follow his lead. It took everything to not beg Daniel to fuck her right then and there on the couch as they would normally do. It took even more of her to ignore the way he was getting hard against her leg and especially to not move her hip against him. There was  nothing she wanted more than to ride him until the only thing Daniel could remember was her name, but she had to be a grown-up woman and be responsible. She needed to be a grown-up woman even when Daniel was doing his best effort to change her mind with kisses, some gentle bites, and licks on her skin while grabbing handfuls of her ass.

“Later. Now I got shit to do, beauty. Gotta go make dinner” she breathed, biting her tongue as she kept to herself the moan that was threatening to leave her mouth when Daniel kissed the weak spot on her neck.  

“Later”. Another bite, another lick, another kiss, another push of their hips together.

It was terribly hard to resist.

“C’mon, sunshine, I gotta feed you. Mike ain’t here to do the dirty job and if I don’t put food in your body, he’ll kill me, and you’ll get hungry and grumpy” Jas insisted, moving her free hand from his back to his chest to rest it there. Having her hand under his shirt wasn’t going to help much to the situation, but she just couldn’t help it.

“We can order. Besides, you’re the one who gets grumpy when you’re hungry”  

He knew her well. He knew her too damn well. Six months together and Daniel already knew her like the back of his hand. He knew she would get grumpy if she was hungry, he knew how to put a smile on her face even on the worse days, the way to make her fall asleep when it seemed impossible, how to make her moan as any other man could ever do, how to convince her to stop being mad at him even when she could never really get mad at him. Daniel knew all the weak points on her body to make her beg for more and to leave her breathless. But beyond all, Daniel could make her smile brighter and bigger than anyone in the whole world. He knew the way to her heart better than anyone else in the world and that’s why it belonged to him.

But Jas knew Daniel as well as he knew her, that’s why she couldn’t help but smile when he said those words. “You’re the one who complains every time we order something! You’re the one who says my food's better”

“Cause your food’s always better” he affirmed, and Jas could feel his smile against her skin. No matter where they ordered, no matter to which amazing restaurant they went, Daniel would always somehow smile and say ‘It was alright, but I like your food better’. Jas would always joke and say there was no need to lie to her to get laid that night, but she knew Daniel wasn’t joking. Jas was no chef, she was far from that, but unlike her sister, Jas paid attention to the kitchen lessons Aoife and Esmé gave her during her life. What she did was nothing but basic meals, but Daniel said time after time that he loved it. It took a late-night talk over a couple of glasses of wine for Daniel to admit he loved it simply because it tasted like home. After leaving home so young, after being away from Perth for so much time, and especially after being on the road that much, homemade food was something that he could have counted times, so having that thanks to Jas were like a little privilege for him. That’s why Jas tried to cook as much as possible for him when they were together, even when she was too lazy and order sounded like the best option.

“Then let me go and make you some. It’ll be fast. You can keep napping meanwhile. Plus, I ain’t gonna put on my shorts so you can look at my ass while I go” Jas insisted. But when she felt Daniel’s arms going back to her waist to hug her as tightly as possible, and when his lips just gave her one last kiss and then stayed there, she knew there was something else. “What’s going on, baby?”

It took him a second to talk. She could feel his body against her taking a deep breath, she could feel his breath hitting her neck as it left his lips, but more than anything she could feel the doubt in his body. It was hard to think he was the same guy who drove the fastest car in the world. It was crazy to think he was the one who loved to get scared once in a while just because. But Jas knew that guy was also her Danny. Sometimes it was incomprehensible to think that man on the tv was the same man she loved. He was the same Danny that would come to her in the good days and when the world felt too much and when he didn’t want to see anyone else. That was the same Daniel that Jas could feel was doubting and trying to pick the right words to say to his girlfriend. And knowing him the way she did, Jas just waited. She kissed his shoulder, traced lines on his back, and played with his curls as she waited for him to find the right way to say whatever he needed to say. If he needed time, she had all the time in the world for him. And if that wasn’t enough, she was ready to somehow invent more time for him.

“I just don’t want you to go. Not even to the kitchen for five minutes”

There was the issue.

It happened once in a while. Normally, it happened every time they had to let each other go. They knew it was a normal reaction knowing they will have to be away for more time than they will like to. Normally it was Jas the one who had to be reminded that everything was gonna be alright. Generally, it was Daniel the one who had to hold her and promise things were gonna be fine, but sometimes it was the other way around. Sometimes, like that night, Jas was the one who had to be the strong one and make the promises even when her own heart was breaking just for hearing him.

“Baby, we talked about it. Now it's just nine silly days, but then we’ll figure out the rest after the summer break. Y’know I’m not going anywhere” she stated, repeating the same promise they also made at least once a week. Their little ‘I’m not going anywhere’ was something normal. It was a reminder. It was their promise to each other. It was one of the things that kept them going on the worst days.

“I know” Daniel nodded, kissing her one last time her neck as he moved to his previous place, finally looking at her face. “I just wish you could come with me”

“I don’t want you to go but it’s work, love. It's your job”

“I know that too, J, but I miss you. And it’s selfish but I want you around. I need you around, princess” he confessed, moving his right hand out of her waist to look for her hand.

“I miss you too, you hear me? I miss you every single day that you’re not around. It sucks when we’re not together” she murmured, getting close to giving him a long, sweet, loving kiss. But even when their kiss was over, Jas didn’t move. She stayed right there in her place with their lips touching. “I love you so fucking much that it kills me when you’re away. I spend the days counting the minutes till I can see your handsome face again, y’know? That’s how crazy I am for you”

“Then come with me, baby. And not just the next two races, come with me the rest of the year, baby”. They talked about it too. They talked about Jas joining him, but somehow, they ended up agreeing on talking about it at some point in the future. The excuse was them wanting to go slow and how she was supposed to be helping in Aoife’s flower shop until Jas figure out what she wanted to do next, but truth was, she was nothing but scared. She was so in love with Daniel that it was terrifying and the fact that Daniel was in love with her was also scary. So far that one was the most wonderful relationship she ever had so she was terrified of ruining it by going with him to every single race. The idea of ruining it in any way just petrified her, but she knew she couldn’t keep postponing their happiness out of fear. She couldn’t do it when Daniel needed her. The emotional rollercoaster of leaving Redbull was coming, and Daniel needed his people around him, which included Jas in one of the first positions. She couldn’t postpone it when she needed him too. “I know what you think and you’re not gonna be a burden, J. You could never be one”

That was also one of the things that were stopping Jas. Joining Daniel mean leaving her job -even if it was with her mom and if it was temporary-, and it also mean depending on him until she could find a job that would allow her to travel. She knew money wasn’t a problem, Daniel was the one paying for her plane tickets, and he would give her a look if she would ever try paying for anything, but she didn’t want to be that kind of girl. She didn’t want people to think she was there for the money, she didn’t want his family and friends to think she was there for it. She didn’t even touch the extension of his card he gave her weeks ago, too scared to give that step. She didn’t want to be a burden in his life when he had already too many things on his mind, so she just gave excuses, but clearly, that was the end of it.

“Danny, I-“ she tried to interrupt, but he cut her with another kiss before he kept talking.

“We can talk about that later, but it’s not important” he insisted, bringing their joined hands together to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “I need you by my side, baby. This year’s been fucking crazy and I don’t think I’m ready to live the rest of it without you. And I know I’m asking for a lot, but can you at least think about it?”

Everyone told her to go slow. Everyone told her to take a deep breath and a firm step on her decision when it came to her relationship with Daniel. It wasn’t that her family or friends didn’t like Daniel, in fact, they adore him, but they also knew Jas. They could see how everything was going fast and the last thing anyone wanted was to see her getting hurt. Not that they thought Daniel would do something to hurt her, but the nature of their relationship was complicated. Distance was hard, his job was complicated and what came with it was even more tricky, so the advice everyone would give her was to think about her choices and not jump into it. That would be the advice she would give to her friend or her sister, but everything was out of the window when it came to Daniel. In the heart vs heart fight, her heart would always win and this time it wasn’t different. This time she could even hear her family and friends asking what the hell was she doing, saying how she was insane, and even checking twice if she was sure about her choice. She could hear her mom and dad talking and telling her to not put her life aside for him, but the second she saw Daniel’s eyes everything else disappeared.

There was nothing else besides his big brown eyes looking at her, shining full of love. There was nothing like their joined hands against his chest and how she could feel his heart beating. There was nothing as the expectation written all over his face as he waited for her answer. But beyond all, there was nothing like the way he made her feel. There was nothing as the love, happiness, and safety she felt by his side, so even if everything could go terribly wrong, she decided to take a leap of faith, hoping everything would turn out just fine.

“Alright, I’m coming. But you paying everything’s temporary, you hear me? I don’t want you to-“. But before Jas could even finish what she was saying, she got interrupted again by Daniel’s lips against her. But this time it wasn’t just him kissing her mouth, this time it was kissing all around her face and neck, all while he whispered ‘Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!’ again and again and again. “You’re welcome, but I’m serious, Dan!”

“Money is something that comes with the job and since I earned it I can spend it on whatever I want, alright? That includes bringing my girl with me. There’s no better what to spend it” he smiled, giving Jas his best smile, which normally would convince her of anything on a normal day.

And maybe another day he could convince her, but that night she wasn’t giving up, so she pointed to him with one finger as she talked firmly. “Temporary, okay?”

“Whatever makes you happy, babe” he nodded, kissing her fingertip as he kept smiling.

If he was happy then it was worth the pain.

“That’s what I like to hear. Now as a payback, you can start ordering food and taking your clothes off” she teased, but like every time, for Daniel her wishes were his command.

And if Daniel was happy, Jas was happy too, so it was more than worth the pain.    

---

Taglist

@amsofftrack​ @d0ntjudgemy50shades​ @a-distantdreamer​ @honeybadgercomeback​

[mi6-cafe]

Short Work September Bingo

This month we are issuing a group challenge. We want to black out this bingo board. To do this, create a post recommending a fancreation that fills one of these squares and tag the Cafe so it shows up in our activity feed. We'll reblog all of the recs and twice a week update our collective board with progress. At the end of the month (or when we black out the board) we'll post a round up of all your recommendations.

We do ask that you only fill one box per rec so that we get 25 different recs.

(Plain-text boxes below the cut.)

Self-rec Exactly 100 words A remix of another fanwork outsider pov AU

Fancreation published before 2018 Amiguous ending Work in progress Fancreation you want a sequel to Memorable OC

Less than 50 comments Crossover A fanwork from a 007 Fest you were not in Fix-it The title begings with "N"

Song lyric title Fanwork that made you go "huh" First kiss Pining Sharing a bed

Rated G Fake dating Non-00Q primary focus A fanwork you found this year Oneshot

[theunsweetenedtruth]

Promises (7)

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Ada Moore (OC)

AN: Originally written in 2018

Warnings: The n word because we're black over here and Erik is annoying.

The change in Erik was evident after the doctor's appointment.

Packages arrived the next week, taking up space in the living room but Ada ignored them in favor of retreating to her room. She was tired and hadn't been sleeping well. It might've had something to do with her baby father sleeping on her couch. 

She didn't expect his presence to affect her so much but she'd forgotten how much Erik could occupy a space, not in a messy way, but in a "you're gonna remember I'm here" way. It was hard to ignore him when he was driving her to and from work, taking her to run errands, paying for shit. He was integrated himself back into her life at a pace she wasn't ready for. But she didn't mind it either. She wasn't used to him being around so long; by this time, Erik would be preparing to head out on another mission but it seemed that he was making himself comfortable. Except there was no way he was. Her couch was meant for sitting and napping, not for full on sleeping. 

Ada thought about inviting him in the bed with her but didn't want to risk succumbing to her hormones. She'd also forgotten how little clothes Erik wore on a regular basis. No shirt, muscles bulging, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips, dick swinging freely. And when he was working, he'd pull out his gold rimmed glasses. Ada has to lock herself in her room before she threw herself across his lap presenting herself to him like a cat in heat. But it's not like you could get pregnant, her inner voice pleaded for her to give in. 

Shut up, hoe. Ada rubbed her temples as she sat on the bed. Her head hurt and she was hungry but she was hiding in her room from the sexual demon that was Erik. But this was her house. So fuck that. 

She got up and opened the door. The scene in her living room was worst than she imagined and she stopped in her tracks. Erik was sprawled on her couch, no shirt, gray sweatpants, bulge visible through the fabric. Reading a baby book. She could see from her angle in the doorway that he was reading What to Expect When You're Expecting, Ada's own unopened copy calling to her from her nightstand. Every time she found the time to open it, she fell asleep before getting through the first page. Sitting on the end table behind him was another stack of books. She crossed the room to look at the titles.

Babywise: Giving your Infant the Gift of Nighttime Sleep; 100 Baby Names; The Expectant Father; Dad's Guide to Pregnancy for Dummies; and How Not to Fuck Them Up filled out the stack and Ada laughed at the last one. Typical Erik. 

"Did you know she's probably in there sucking her thumb right now?" Erik's voice startled her. "We'll have to stop that shit immediately or else she'll be doing it until she's an adult." 

Ada blinked at him. Where was the man who could barely look at her bump? "Where did you get all these books?"

Erik looked at her bashfully. "Amazon. Figured she's on her way. Might as well know how to take care of her."

Ada sat next to him. "Yeah I use this app to keep up with what she's doing but I haven't been able to read any books. I don't even have a name for her." Ada laughed sardonically. "I'm actually really scared." 

Erik's hand snaked over hers. When she didn't pull away, he linked his fingers with hers. Well I'm here now and we gon figure this shit out together."  Her newfound independence wanted to fight at this but Ada was weary. She was glad he was here, glad she had someone to lean on. So she did, leaning into his side. He wrapped his arm around her, pressing a kiss to her hair. 

Over the few days, Erik was on ten when Ada wanted him to be a solid three point five seven. If he wasn't spewing out random facts about the baby from his baby books, he was now taking an active roll in her pregnancy. He must've been looking at things on google about pregnancy; he started taking her on walks around the neighborhood after dinner. 

"You been complaining about heartburn," he said, slapping her hands out the way and zipping up his her sweater himself. "You need to stop going to sleep right after you eat." He bent down to help her put her shoes on. "Plus walking is supposed to help with making birth easier." He tugged her good over her head, careful not to mess up her hair. "I need that shit to go smoothly so yo ass not breaking my hand all night." 

Ada thought about asking him why he expected to be in the room with her but decided not to. She really couldn't imagine going through it alone but she didn't want him to see her like that. She still wanted him to find her sexy after giving birth. Even if they weren't like that, she didn't want him to be scarred after seeing her give birth to his baby. But she knew there was no way she could ask him to wait in the waiting room with the way he was acting. He was probably going to hold the doctor hostage in the hospital room until she gave birth. 

After walking one evening, Ada stood in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom in just her bra and panties. Her hands trailed over her bump reverently. She still couldn't believe this was her body. She didn't have that much time to go. She felt eyes on her and met Erik's through the cracked open door. She swallowed around the lump in her throat at the look in his eyes. They were dark with arousal and she unconsciously trailed her gaze over his body. He was dressed still from their walk but still in his sweats. She could see his dick rising at her attention and she licked her lips... 

Erik cleared his throat and her eyes snapped up to his. He raised an eyebrow but she turned back to the mirror. "I'm getting a few stretch marks." She concentrated on the new faint lines in an effort to calm the throbbing in her lower region. 

"I'm surprised you don't have more with that big belly." His voice was closer as he came up behind her in the mirror. She could feel the heat of his body against her back. She watched him through the mirror, saw him clench his fists, his hesitation, before he slid his hands around her waist to press to her stomach. The skin to skin contact was jarring for her; there was an intimacy to his actions, him caressing the bare skin of her belly. He buried his face into her neck and his breaths tickled her neck. They stood there like that for a while, even the baby was still in the moment. When he pulled away, Ada held her breath until he walked away and shut the door behind him. 

The next morning, there was a bottle of argon oil on her nightstand. 

Another night found them sprawled on opposite end a of the couch, Ada's feet resting in Erik's lap while he rubbed them for her. She was reading names from a new baby names book. Erik has hated all the names in the other one. Emma and Jessica wasn't gonna cut it for his baby girl. 

"What about Zuri?"

Erik made a face. "Absolutely not." Ada looked at him questioningly before rolling her eyes. 

"Amara?" 

"Eh." 

"Amaya?" No response. "Makena?" Again no response. She looked up from the book. "Look. We need a name." Erik continues rubbing her feet, staring intensely at her white toes. "I can pick a name without you if you don't want to do this?"

Erik kissed his teeth. "Just keep going. I'll know it when I hear it." 

Ada sighed. "Nala?"  "Too Lion King." She snorted. 

"I didn't even think about that. Nia?" 

"Nah." 

"Nuru? It means filled with light." She thought maybe telling him the meanings would stir something in him. 

He hummed, a good sign, so Ada used the colorful tabs she had to mark the name and page. 

As she flipped through the pages, another name caught her eye. "Hey what about Sade? It means 'honor bestows a crown'? I think it's appropriate since her daddy's a prince." 

Erik looked at her finally. "Sade," he tested. "Sade Isabella? For your grandma?"

Tears came to her eyes. Ada wished her grandmother could meet her. "Yeah that sounds great." 

"Ada," Erik's voice woke her up out of her sleep and she opened bleary eyes to peer at him. 

"Wha izit 'rik?" She mumbled. It had been a long day at the daycare and at thirty-nine weeks, Ada was getting too big to be running after all the kids there. 

"Come on, we're gonna do a test drive to the hospital."

Ada thought she might have misheard him before grabbing her phone from the nightstand. "Nigga. It's two thirty in the morning. Now isn't the time to be having drills and shit." 

Erik kissed his teeth. He was gonna stop that shit before she gave him something to kiss his teeth over. "The baby could come at any moment. Better for us to practice than to be struggling to figure out the best route the day of." Ada whined. "Come on Ada." He pulled her to sit up, tugging her coat around her, pulling her arms through the sleeves. By the time he kneeled to put her shoes on, Ada was more awake and rubbing her eyes to clear the fog. 

Erik stopped to pick up a bag tucked into the front hall closet. "What's in the bag?" 

"It's your hospital bag." Ada looked at the bag. It was a black duffle, bulging with things. She knew his worried ass overpacked but she was too tired to fight him on it. She hadn't started to pack for herself so she might as well use his bag as a blueprint. She'd sift through it and eliminate the unnecessary items later.

He helped her gingerly down the stairs—the elevator moved too slow for his liking—before he tucked her carefully into the passenger seat of a car she'd never seen before. She looked at him questioningly. 

Erik looked shy. "I can't carry a car seat or stroller in the Porsche." Ada turned to look into the back and sure enough there was a backward facing car seat in the center seat—the safest place according to his best friend, Google—and a mirror attached to the headrest. She knew if she looked in the trunk, she'd find a matching stroller. 

Ada turned back to him. "Is this what you do when I'm at work? When did you get this?" 

Erik began driving, navigating the larger vehicle just as well as he did his old car. "I picked it out and had someone pick it up when it was tricked out the way I wanted. They dropped it off here for me." Ada just shook her head and settled in for the fifteen minute drive to hospital. 

When they got back home, Ada felt almost dead on her feet, grateful Erik had pulled this shit on a weekend. She watched him start settling in on the couch but it didn't feel right to her. She wanted him next to her in bed. She was tired of fighting herself when she just wanted to be up under him. 

"You need something baby girl?" 

"You." He blinked a few times. "I mean. The couch isn't that comfortable. You could come in the bed if you want." She was nervous. 

Erik surprised her. After staring at her for a few beats too long, he rose to his feet, gesturing for her to proceed him in the room. The room felt smaller with him in it and she absently noted they still had their respective sides of the bed. Erik's eyes stayed on hers as he undressed, pulling his jacket off and his shirt over his head in a way that was so familiar to Ada. She started to follow suit, unzipping her coat and stepping out of her shoes. She was already in her pajamas, not having gotten properly dressed for their excursion. Erik maintained eye contact as he untied the string of his sweatpants and dropping them. Ada quickly averted her eyes, worried that he going without draws again. 

She snuck a peek. Boxer briefs. Not that much better. 

Ada crawled under the sheets laying on her back and feeling Erik do the same. The air was heavy between them. This was not what she pictured when she invited him in her bed. Okay. She wasn't ready for what she'd imagined but she still expected more than the uncomfortable feeling swirling in the air. 

"Come here," Erik's voice rumbled next to her before he shifted her into a position they were familiar with. He was the big spoon, the lines of his body pressed into her back, his arm under her head and his other arm sling across her hips. Ada was content, beginning to drift off when she felt his calloused hand shove her sleep shirt up. He settled his hand on the bare skin of her belly, rubbing. Sade nudged back before settling on the side where her daddy's hand was. Ada fell into a deep sleep after that.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

The Event. (Part Two) - OC Backstory.

|| [Part One] ||

pairing: none. -> COD OC!: Victoria "Whiskey" Callahan extra: OC!Whiskey x MootOC!Meabh "Pirate" O'Malley (platonic) extra: MootOC!Meabh "Pirate" O'Malley x Johnny "Soap" MacTavish words: 2.3K~ cw: ANGST, HURT/NO COMFORT, body gore, loss/grief, existential dread/crisis, loss of identity?, depression probably?, death?

2011, aged 20.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. She felt like she was standing in that line for an hour as the CO talked and talked and talked…

There she stood, shoulder to shoulder with her fellow enlisted, recent graduates of Navy bootcamp, their sea legs not all he way adjusted to life on sea, but adjusted enough that standing on solid earth already Felt Off.

They waited until the CO finished his speech and then it happened. Hundreds of family members came down from the stands. Victoria saw her mother and father approaching and Madilyn coming running ahead. She quickly tapped Victoria on the shoulder, tapping her out of formation.

She threw her arms around her sister, her mother quickly following. Her father only gave her another friendly tap on the shoulder and a harsh rub, signaling an innate sense of pride that he never quite voiced.

-

2015, aged 24.

“And finally, our second-ever female U.S. Navy SEAL graduate: Special Warfare Operator Third Class, Victoria Isabelle Callahan!” The CO announced into the microphone. An uproar of cheers came from the crowd. 

She crossed the stage, her CO pinning her SEAL trident to her breast with a ‘Good job, kid.’ muttered under his breath. He shook her hand for a picture and then they saluted each other before she returned to the formation.

Her eyes sought for them in the crowd… And them she found. Madilyn and Mom, and, of course, Dad, and Nathan, who recently arrived from deployment, both of them in full dress blues.

Once they were released, she quickly approached her family. Hugged her sister, mother, and brother… And when she was going to salute her father, the man pulled her into a tight hug, strong arms around her back, head buried in her hair, pressing kisses to her temple and calling her ‘my girl’. She nearly started crying.

-

2018, aged 26.

After being flown home and having all their matters arranged, Victoria was allowed to attend.

It was a military funeral. They pulled out all the stops. Dozens of Marines in attendance. A myriad of flower arrangements being sent both to the church, the cemetery, and to their home. There was the band, and the procession, two caskets, two hearses. 

Victoria wasn’t supposed to even be standing on her own for too long, due to her weakened legs, which were still wrapped in taut gauze.

And yet she forced herself to don her full dress whites, helped carry her brother’s casket, marched the whole way behind the hearses but ahead of the Marines, and insisted on taking part of the three-volley salute, as they presented the flags to her mother and sister.

Then, they went home and she locked herself in her room, refusing to exit.

A day went by.

Then two.

Then a week.

Then two.

Her mother and sister came to her door a few times to check on her, to try and coax her out, have a conversation… But she turned them away sharply with a “I’m fine. Go away.”.

They only saw Victoria a few times. Whenever she left to go to P.T. and hydrotherapy, and whenever she had to be driven to the hospital to check on her legs.

Whenever she did, wherever she went, people would whisper and point and sometimes, if they were brave enough, they’d ask her questions. And she’d answer. But, of course, never with the truth, just a sarcastic joke delivered in such a deadpan tone that it made people wonder if it was true:

“So, what happened to your legs?”

“Had a lighter and a whiskey flask in my pocket. Real flammable, you know?”

Victoria’s friends all drove over many times, coming to knock at her door, but earning the same reply from her. Nothing.

No answers to texts or calls or social media posts.

Cold.

Distant.

Even Meabh’s letters didn’t get a reply. The Irish woman was sending them often, three or so times a week, multiple pages long. Sometimes Victoria didn’t even open them.

Victoria was like a ghost. 

She only left her bedroom after dark to have dinner, shower, do the dishes and tidy up as a ‘thank you’ for her mother cooking for her.

She slept whenever she wasn’t in rehab, and stayed awake most nights, holding a pistol and sitting up in bed.

By the end of the first month, her CO, Cobra, came by. He was the only one who was able to beckon her out of her room, much to her mother and sister’s amazement.

They sat on the back patio, Whiskey wearing a pair of short shorts, her legs too sore and raw for any type of pants, the painkillers she was given slowly being weaned off her.

She had her arms crossed over her chest as she looked at Scott sitting next to her. He had entertained her with some small talk, not probing at her recovery, nor her at his.

The left side of his face was almost unrecognizable, with scarred red burns, an eyebrow fully gone, and part of his hairline having receded. She couldn’t imagine the state he was beneath his civvy clothes.

“What’d you want?” She ended up asking with a cocked brow as she glared at him, done with playing nice and polite.

He had never seen her so serious before. Usually, Victoria could put a smile on a dead man’s face… Oh, how many times she got scolded and yelled at for pulling harmless pranks around the barracks…

“Are you going back to work when you recover?” He asked her as he looked at her, worried.

“I am.” She replied. “Intend to at least.”

“You think you’re gonna pass the PEBs?” He asked as he looked down at her legs and then up at her.

“I will,” Victoria replied as she stared at him. “I’ve still got a whole two months of medical. I plan on spending them getting back to training.”

Scott nodded as he looked at her. “What if you don’t pass?”

“I have to.” Victoria told him, her voice terse, lacking any of the emotion he expected her to have.

“Are you still going to your psych appointments?” He asked, unsure. She could tell he was indirectly asking if she was fit for service.

“Yes.”

“Okay.” He nodded as he looked at her. They held eye contact for a moment. 

“What else?” She beckoned.

With a sigh, Cobra continued. “I’m thinking of going private. Asking for a discharge and joining a PMC.” He told her.

Traitor.

Quitter.

Turncoat.

Victoria turned to look at him, eyes solemn before her eyebrows raised, unimpressed. “And?”

Scott leaned forward, clasping his hands together and laying his arms on his knees. “Don’t give me that look-” He told her. “I want your opinion.”

“My opinion is that you should do whatever you think is best.” She replied with a shrug. “It’s your career, not mine.”

“I know but-” He trailed off. “I worry about you.”

“Don’t.”

“You can’t tell me not to worry when-”

“Don’t.” She insisted, her voice clipped and headstrong.

“Vic-”

“Don’t worry about me.” She insisted. “Don’t be wondering about all the ‘What ifs’. And don’t you dare use whatever guilt you feel as an excuse to not move forward because then you’re just gonna turn around and blame me for ‘holding you back’ despite me telling you to go.” She scolded him.

“You’re such a bitch sometimes, you know?” Scott asked in a sarcastic tone, earning a simple shrug and a little amused, conceding tilt of her head. The most emotion she’d shown this whole time. 

“What about you, though? Will you be alright going back to the SEALs without me?” He asked her, his voice softened.

“I will. I’ll be fine.” She nodded, her tone confident. 

“Okay.” He added and nodded. “And, well, if it ever comes down to it… You could go to the Officers’ Academy and start bossing people around.” He joked.

“Yeah.” She nodded before she shifted and got up off her chair, a wince covering her features. “I need to go lay down, my meds are making me woozy.” She lied. “You know where the door is, right?” She asked as she was already approaching the sliding back door to go back inside.

“Yeah…” Scott said as he got up too, eyes locked on the back of her head as he followed her back inside. “It was good to see you, Vic.”

“Yeah. Good to see you too.” She responded.

“Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Mhm.” She added before she climbed up the steps to go back to her room upstairs.

-

Two months later, Evelyn Callahan woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of the door downstairs closing hard and loudly… And a car driving away beneath her bedroom window. 

She hadn’t spoken with her daughter in three months if whatever kind of ghost Victoria had turned into could still be considered her daughter. But she knew. A mother always knows.

She got up and padded over to her daughter’s childhood bedroom, popping open the door and flicking on the light. The bedroom sat perfectly clean and tidy, not a thing out of place. The bed was perfectly made, military corners tucked in, the trash taken out, the closet void of any belongings.

Two days later, Victoria had joined the Officer’s Academy with a bit of help from her old CO… A few strings pulled to allow her to join and resume training before her doctor cleared her. She graduated a Lieutenant Junior Grade within three months.

Three more months after that, Victoria Callahan was passing the Navy SEAL Physical Evaluation Boards to go back on the field, as The Event had never happened, her results somehow more impressive than they had ever before.

And then she was back on the field. Her results, seniority, and recently acquired Officer title allowed her to address command and directly reject being fully integrated into a team. 

So, she started working alone.

She became the go-to person for jobs no one wanted, could, or should do. 

Gave herself a new callsign.

She became more of a contractor than an actual officer.

Working with all four main branches of the military, being sent everywhere and anywhere.

Domestic or international, it didn’t matter.

USMC, Rangers, Delta Force. JTF2. SAS, SBS. NATO. UN.

Getting called in for a job while already in the middle of one, departing directly from the middle of the desert to the rainforest to the tundra to the city to the countryside to the desert again.

Temporarily placed with teams, sure, but never the same one twice, never getting close enough to mourn whenever she lost someone during an op.

Missions gone wrong, giving herself shitty medical aid in abandoned buildings while on the run, suffering ambushes, captures, torture sessions (of herself and others).

Her confirmed kill count grew and grew and grew. 

Enemies in all sorts of places.

Always on the move.

Except for two weeks in early 2019, when she dropped everything and took forced leave, to spend time glued to Meabh’s hip in Glasgow, keeping an eye on her and making sure she didn’t strain herself, after she got put on medical leave.

Whiskey would look after her the way she would’ve looked after Nathan when he was younger, the boy always so tough, but thinking himself too hard to be a wuss… Until Victoria would have to tuck him in or force feed him or sit by his side as he ran high fevers.

“Realtin.“ Meabh would call her, while too high on painkillers to even think, while Victoria tucked her into bed. ‘Little star’, like the ones the Irish girl always prided herself in being able to use to find the way while out at sea.

But how could anyone use her to find themselves when Victoria herself was so fucking lost? 

She felt like her soul was burning alight like her legs had, consumed and constantly fed by the whiskey of her moniker.

As soon as she heard that Johnny was coming home, she took off in the night again.

Back on the move.

Didn’t ever step foot again in Nashville. Couldn’t face her family. Couldn’t put them in danger either.

Started carrying a garrote wherever she went, sleeping with a knife under her pillow, and walking with a gun in her holster whenever she was on leave back in Virginia.

She wasn’t good company. 

After that, she went months without hearing her own name.

“Whiskey.” this.

“Whiskey.” that.

“Whiskey.”

“Whiskey.”

“Whiskey.”

The only person to still call her by her name was Meabh. Her lifeline.

2020, aged 28.

“Tori.” Meabh’d say whenever Victoria dared to pick up her calls instead of letting them go to voicemail.

Sometimes Victoria wondered if the fire that licked the skin clean off her thighs had also licked away the humor and playfulness from her soul.

The ease that 26-year-old Victoria used to have was long gone now for 28-year-old Victoria.

“Ye should come stay with us.” Meabh said on the phone. “Ye could finally meet Johnny and everything.”

Sometimes she'd make some type of poor attempt at a joke.

"If I meet the bastard, I'm roughin' him up, darlin'. Can't do that or you'll get mad at me." Whiskey'd reply in a deadpan tone, which Meabh would always laugh that.

It wasn’t the same anymore. No more fun jokes slipping past the American lips with a need to hear the other laugh. Everything was deadpan and sarcastic.

Now only Meabh made the jokes. It earned her little else than a soft chuckle or huff of air from Whiskey still, but not that cackling and snorting she was used to.

Most of the time Whiskey'd just come up with some excuse for not going, with 'COVID' and 'the missions', just to avoid further discussion…

But that was all bullshit.

The fact was that most days she didn’t feel human. 

And just because Meabh was the only person keeping any type of tether between her soul and her body, didn’t mean that Whiskey would cling onto to it with tooth and nail.

But that didn’t mean she wanted to die either.

No.

Even as she laid on the floor of her cold, empty apartment in Virginia, staring at the ceiling, her legs prickling and painful, unable to stand up... The nerves having come alive, a consequence of the skin grafts, she didn't want to die.

She’d force herself to survive.

She would keep going even if she had to rip herself up and make all her skin go raw, just like her soul had.

She’d keep going until she could get those fucking Ultranationalists to pay for what they did.

for @crashtestbunny bc she loves my OC

[osunism]

Daughter of Disgrace

"Is there any place where Heaven's bastard daughters are welcome?"

Rating: Explicit [for explicit sexual content and graphic depictions of violence]. 🔞 Pairing[s]: Satoru + Sundari || Nadja + Sukuna Warning[s]: Explicit sexual situations, graphic depictions of violence, major character death[s], as well as some toxic relationship elements. Spoilers for the manga. Sukuna is his own warning but there is cannibalism, abuse, body horror, and mild torture in this fic. So canon-typical violence. Summary: In the aftermath of Satoru Gojo's sealing, Sundari must choose rebellion in order to free him. Lucky for them both, rebellion has always been her preferred modus operandi.

🪧 Be Advised: This is the sequel to Beast of No Nation. It's recommended that you read that fic first to get the context of this one.

𓃰 AO3 || OC Masterpost || Fic Masterpost 𓃰

𓃰 Chapter Nine: The Birthday Party

Jujutsu Tech, Tokyo Campus, December 7, 2018

     For the first time, someone has woken up before Gojo Satoru, and it’s Sundari.

     When she wakes up before dawn begins coloring the sky, and finds Satoru sound asleep beside her, she is surprised…and delighted. She decides that stillness is the only way to savor this moment. She shifts her lower eyes to look at him, and she cannot help the grin that spreads like a bloodstain across her face.

     Satoru has a face that would move Botticelli to tears, and Sundari recalls with quiet amusement how she once hated how pretty he is, and how he has the nerve to be that good looking and funny. He makes her laugh in the most unconventional ways. She’s also seen him when he’s in the heat of a fight, eyes blazing like two stars in his pale face, a manic grin stretching his pretty mouth. He probably scares the shit out of his enemies. Not her, though. His bloodlust calls to her own in a way no one else has. He knows the hunger in her bones, the flame that powers her desire, and he knows how to feed it.

     Right now, he is none of those things. Right now, he is at peace, and Sundari realizes she is witnessing a rarity. Not his unrivaled strength and power, but Gojo Satoru: the man.

     Sundari allows herself a small, turning over to lay on her side and watching him. His hair falls like feathers of starlight over his face, his lashes cresting like waves on his cheeks, his full lips parted. There’s a light snore rumbling his chest, and she bites her lip. He’s boyish and handsome on any given day of the week, but here in this moment she doesn’t see a sorcerer. Just a man who needs a vacation.

     “You should consider taking a picture for your phone wallpaper,” Satoru mumbles, not opening his eyes. Sundari chuckles. So much for a morning of quietly watching him sleep. Satoru finally opens his eyes and it’s like her own personal sunrise. She never gets tired of it, and she doesn’t think she ever will. She wants to spend the rest of her life waking up to the warmth of his gaze, bleary with sleep.

     “I have no idea where my phone is, actually,” Sundari says, laughing as he reaches for her, and she obliges him, pulling her into his embrace and wrapping his arms and legs around her and burying his face in her hair.

     “Good,” he mumbles. “I like when you’re mine in the morning.”

     Sundari entertains the thought of biting him briefly, but ultimately decides to reward him with soft, lazy kisses to his neck. Satoru purrs in response, inhaling deeply, holding her tighter as if he’s afraid she’ll vanish if he lets her go. Sundari feels a twinge in her heartstrings at the thought and tightens her hold on him too.

     “I have to train with Yuta again today,” Satoru murmurs. “He’s really determined to see this plan through.”

     Sundari keeps her eyes shut, breathes in his scent.

     “I know,” she mumbles. “I’m going to do some more training with Yuji. He’s a fast learner, does better with hands-on application than lectures.”

     Satoru chuckles. “Sounds like you,” he says with a knowing smirk.

     Sundari kisses his neck again, and this time Satoru moans. She’s using the tip of her tongue to trace over the curve of his Adam’s apple, ending in a saturated kiss. Instantly the mood shifts, and the two spend the next two hours making love, giggling and moaning like two newlyweds on their first night together.

     It’s when he has her on her stomach, tugging her earlobe between his teeth, torturing her with long, slow strokes, that they both here the shuffle of footsteps and the chatter of voices beyond the door. Sundari bites a mouthful of her pillow to quiet herself, and Satoru grins, trailing soft, wet kisses along her neck and shoulder as he moves inside of her.

     “I wanna come inside of you,” he whispers. Sundari whimpers in response as his cock twitches inside of her, lifting her lips involuntarily to bury him deeper. “Want you full of me all day.” The thought makes him nearly come on the spot. He can imagine Sundari, training in her tight workout gear, her panties full of his come, and his thrusts increase in speed and force, determined to make good on his promise.

     “It’s my fuckin’—ngh—birthday, Sundari…” he growls, planting his hands on either side of her to give himself leverage. She’s keening, now, moans muffled as he fucks her hard with shallow, powerful thrusts. He delights in the sound of her nails digging into the sheets, threatening to tear them. He doesn’t give a shit; he’ll eat the fucking charge if it means he gets to have her like this…for the rest of his goddamn life if need be.

     If she’ll have him.

     His hips stutter at the thought, and he fights his own climax hard, but she’s pulling him in. Her cunt tightens around him like she doesn’t want to let him go, because she doesn’t, and Satoru’s hand finds its way around her slender throat, pulling her up and forcing her to let go of the pillow.

     Sundari lets out a sound that is so obscene, Satoru forgets why he wants to choke her in the first place.

     It doesn’t matter, because she’s spitting curses and moans into the air even as he adjusts his grip just enough to apply pressure. Sundari’s vision sparkles momentarily, and she comes harder than she’s ever felt in her life.

     “Did you just—fuck…!” Satoru lets himself lose it, and soon he’s flooding her with liquid heat, burying his face in her neck and shoulder, growling her name into her sweat-slick skin, licking at the satin flesh like he wants to devour her.

     For a long stretch of heartbeats, there is only the sound of their panting breaths cutting up the air, their bodies limp and languid as Satoru releases her, stretching his arm over hers to twine their fingers. She curls them, and he wraps his arms around her as he kisses her nape, nuzzling her with unabashed affection. Even when he is rough, Satoru shows that he is capable of an almost pure and shameless affection that makes Sundari flush warm in her cheeks, and makes her smile turn shy and flustered. Satoru kisses her temple.

     “My favorite birthday present thus far,” he murmurs, his voice husky and slurred with residual pleasure. Sundari chuckles, a sound that drips down Satoru’s senses like warm honey.

     “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she murmurs, even as his lips find a trail behind her ear, tugging at the soft velvet of her earlobe, making her giggle. “But you’ve got to go train and make sure Yuta can…you know…do what needs to be done. And I have to go beat up Yuji for a few hours.”

     Satoru smirks. “What? No cake?” He pouts.

     Sundari squirms beneath him, swatting at his infinity when he refuses to release her. She reaches blindly for the bedside table, grabs the conical birthday had and passes it to him.

     “There,” she says as she turns over in his arms, forcing him to straddle her. “Put that on and wear it the rest of the day. I even made sure it matches your eyes.”

     Satoru puts on the birthday hat. Sundari smiles up at him, and his eyes are bright with something that has little to do with the nature of their power. His smile is wide and pleased, and Sundari reaches up, deftly adjusting the birthday hat so that it sits slightly tilted on his head.

     “Now you just need to not be naked and you’re good to go,” Sundari says. He flicks her forehead affectionately.

     Later, Sundari makes her way to the training field with Yuji. He seems less tense, and even excited. He has clashed with Sundari before, and because she reminds him so much of Sukuna, he considers her the best training partner aside from Maki.

     “Hikmat-san, do you think we can practice with more cursed energy this time around?” He asks brightly, grinning with an eagerness Sundari finds endearing, if a little shortsighted.

     “Maybe,” she says. “I know you’re durable, and Sukuna’s cursed energy has reinforced you, but I don’t want to beat you within an inch of your life, Itadori.”

     Yuji rubs the back of his head sheepishly, laughing at his own shortsightedness, but undaunted in his determination to get stronger. Sundari has also been training, learning to control her transformation at will, rather than only accessing it in the heat of battle. The nature of the binding vow placed on herself to be able to do so is one she undertook to maintain a sense of normalcy in public. While she has come to accept herself as Sukuna’s daughter, she knows her appearance can be off-putting to her more conservative—and admittedly, traumatized—allies.

     Yuji is not one of those allies. If anything, he accepts Sundari unabashedly as herself and was one of the first in jujutsu society aside from Satoru himself to treat her as a friend rather than an aberration that needed to be dealt with. She supposes Yuji had more than enough reason to be friendly, being her father’s vessel and all. Still, it is nice to have a friend, even if he’s not always agreeable with her methods.

     And aside from Satoru, Yuji, Maki, and Todo are the only fighters who can keep up with her.

     “Ready?” Sundari slides into an easy stance, light on the balls of her feet, and Yuji does the same, bouncing from one foot to the other in an effortless motion that could see him springing in any direction. Sundari narrows her eyes, and Yuji’s gaze never wavers. Sundari’s second set of arms roll out from her shoulder blades, her cursed tattoos shifting to accommodate her true form, the toned muscle of her belly splitting open to reveal a grinning maw with a tattooed tongue. Yuji has seen the transformation often enough that it no longer startles him, but she sees the slight tension in his jaw as he faces her. Four arms, four eyes, and the strength of her monstrous father. Sundari readies herself.

     The spar begins.

     Sundari loves Yuji’s unpredictability. He moves like a slip of fabric caught in crosswinds, bouncing from one point to the next. And always he keeps his feet under him, not unlike the tiger he was nicknamed after. Sundari tests the strength of his guard, finding him fast and loose with his openings, moving with a speed that reminds her of her father. But of course, since the first time she fought “Yuji” it had been Sukuna controlling his body.

     It’s almost like that, but Yuji has something about him that’s different. A strange, and youthful tenacity that makes it hard to keep him down. Sundari lands her hits, sends him flying, and yet Yuji comes back, fighting just as fiercely as before, if not more so. It matters not if there is blood, or missing teeth, or even ruptured organs. If he can stand, if he can run, if he can move, he will fight.

     Sundari learns a lesson in tenacity this day, and the sun crawls across the sky as they fight, at times engaged in such close quarters that it looks like a dance; one made more beautiful when they choreograph it together. Sundari learns how Yuji moves, makes a note to practice using his more acrobatic techniques. She has the power and build for it, and she loves to move fast. Fighting with Satoru taught her that.

     In the end, though, Yuji ends up being taken down, and Sundari grapples him with her arms, pulling him hard against her body and lifting him off the ground. Yuji uses his core to draw his legs up, locking his arms within hers before he bursts into motion, dragging her off-balance. As soon as Yuji’s red shoes hit the ground he tumbles forward, lifting Sundari up over his shoulder, and tossing her ass over tea kettle into the dirt.

     “Holy shit!” It’s Maki’s voice that cuts through the tension as Yuji stands over Sundari, hands poised for what would be a killing blow. Sundari is staring up at him, wide-eyed.

     “Holy shit, indeed,” Satoru says, joining Maki and Inumaki.

     “Did I…” Yuji’s not quite sure he believes it yet. “Did I just win?”

     Sundari’s mouth opens, then closes.

     “I think you did,” she says softly. “Good job, Itadori, you might just be able to beat my father’s ass, after all.”

     Yuji blinks his big brown eyes, and then a grin of pure triumph split his face, cheeks rounding and shutting his eyes as he laughs. He holds out a hand, helping Sundari to her feet.

     “Just bear in mind my dad probably weighs twice as much as I do when he’s…” Sundari says, and gestures to her extra arms and mouth. Yuji nods, understanding. He’s only ever seen Sukuna wearing his face and now Megumi’s. The thought alone twists his gut with guilt. Sundari places a hand on his shoulder as if she knows where his thoughts have led him. Yuji shares a look with her, nodding in understanding. He can’t let himself give into guilt and despair. If Megumi is alive, there’s still time. There’s still hope.

     “How’s it feel getting your ass handed to you by a teenager?” Satoru asks in a teasing voice. Sundari smirks at him, saying nothing, and then leans up to whisper something in his ear.

     Satoru’s eyes go wide and there’s a flush in his ears that has everything to do with the sway of Sundari’s hips as she walks away. Her extra arms have receded and vanished, but Satoru doesn’t have to turn his head to watch her walk away. He can see her clearly. God he can even see the dampness of her sweat on her skin, a bead chasing a path down the length of her spine.

     “Gojo-sensei are you alright?” Yuji asks.

     “I think she broke him,” Maki says smugly.

     “Shake shake,” Inumaki agrees.

     Satoru coughs. “Well, I know you guys have birthday plans for me and I’ve got to go run a very important errand.”

     He doesn’t wait for them to ask questions, and they exchange looks realizing that he’s expecting some kind of party or celebration, and none of them have actually planned anything.

     Well, not entirely true. Yuji and Inumaki went on a very dangerous mission earlier in the week for a very special delivery to be made on their sensei’s birthday.

     And then there was the big surprise, of course.

     “We should probably hope Okkotsu-senpai is holding up his end of the deal, right?” Yuji asks. Inumaki makes a grunt of agreement.

     Sundari takes her time in the showers after her training with Yuji is done. She scrubs herself clean and washes her hair. It’s not lost on her that the black dye of her curls has begun to wash out, giving way to roots the color of soft rosy blush. She has been dying her hair black for as long as she can remember, and now that her memories are restored, she knows what she looked like before her sealing.

     She does not redye her hair.

     As she’s toweling dry and changing into her comfortable leisurewear, she checks her phone on the off chance anything interesting pops up. She’s got a ton of missed calls, mostly from people who knew her as an ordinary mortal girl, always down to party and have fun. She doesn’t even know how to connect with those people anymore. What is there to talk about? That entire life had been a fabrication to obfuscate what she was. Who she was, in fact.

     Then there’s messages from shady contacts—unsaved numbers with dead-end voicemails that haven’t been setup yet. Yakuza, of course. In the aftermath of the Culling Games’ announcement, the yakuza gangs had taken note of their own curse users on retainer to protect their interests. Naturally, they’d wanted some of their best muscle to herd into the colonies and break shit. Sundari doesn’t know how to connect with these people either. Any curse user they have on retainer either perished in her domain or were killed by other sorcerers in the Culling Game. And she’s more powerful than all of them combined at this rate.

     Sundari tosses her phone back into her bag. Everyone she cares to talk to is here, now, in her new life.

     New…life.

     Sundari smiles to herself, changing into a black sweatsuit that’s clearly too big for her. She laces up a pair of red and black sneakers and ties her black and pink curls on top of her head. As she steps into the hallway, she spots Satoru who smiles at her as if he’s just been the first downstairs on Christmas morning.

     “Goddess,” he greets and Sundari rolls all four of her eyes, as is customary. He comes to her, noting the baggy sweatsuit and the stylish sneakers. He adores how sexy she can be even dressed down like this and takes her into his arms in a warm embrace.

     “Honored One,” she greets, kissing him with an amused laugh. “Why aren’t you with Yuta?”

     Satoru sighs. “Why are you all trying to pretend I don’t know you’re planning something?”

     Sundari says nothing for a moment, pursing her lips.

     “You are so annoying,” she says at last. Satoru’s eyes look guileless even as he pouts. “Can you at least pretend to be surprised?”

     Satoru grins. “Will that make you happy?”

     Sundari hesitates, momentarily caught off-guard. She hadn’t been expecting that. Satoru knows this, and his grin stays, his eyes asking, seeking…

     “Yeah,” she says softly. “The kids are excited, and it would make them happy if you were too. Speaking of which, come with me.”

     She takes his hand, tugs him along through the hall. He keeps up with her easily, and Sundari’s cheeks bloom with a rush of heat as she realizes they are walking side-by-side, hand-in-hand. Satoru looks as content as if he has always been by her side as if there is nowhere else he’d rather be. Sundari swallows to wet her suddenly parched throat. She almost forgets she’s the one leading when she comes back from her surprise and pulls him toward the infirmary.

     “Are you throwing my party in the clinic?” Satoru asks. “Is this your way of telling me you’re pregnant?”

     Sundari’s eyes go wide. “What? No! Satoru, why the fuck would you think that?”

     Satoru shrugs. “I don’t know! I can’t think of what could possibly be worth celebrating in the—”

     For the second time in as many months, Satoru is left speechless. Sundari is still clasping his hand, and startles when his grip tightens on hers almost painfully. His expression is one of intense focus, Six Eyes reading the ebb and flow of cursed energy to ensure what he is seeing is what his eyes are telling him is there.

     Standing in the infirmary, albeit supported by a cane and attended by a very solicitous Shoko, is Nanami Kento. He looks almost the same as before, save for the left half of his body which is a sea of scars left behind by Shoko’s reverse cursed technique. Wrapped around his left eye is a soft eyepatch reinforced by leather. Satoru’s eyes tell him the patch is woven with cursed energy, charms of enhancement that will allow Nanami to increase his perception and make up for the lost senses and damaged ocular nerves.

     More than that, Satoru can see Nanami’s cursed energy has increased.

     “Gojo,” Nanami greets, and there is a slight rasp in his voice as he speaks around the scar tissue of his damaged vocal cords. “It’s good to see you freed. It would have been terribly inconvenient if we’d lost you for good in Shibuya.”

     Satoru still cannot speak, and all assembled see for the first time as tears form in the Honored One’s eyes.

     Satoru spends some time with Nanami following the surprise that his old friend survived the disaster of Shibuya. He learns from Nanami what all he missed during that time, and silently sends a thank you to Nadja for sending his friend to receive medical care rather than throwing his life away to continue the fight.

     He’s tired of seeing his colleagues fall like fodder to the endless surge of curses. He’s tired of curse users—wretched individuals who waste their gifts being parasites and threats to humanity rather than shamans as they were born to be.

     Satoru puts those ill-thoughts in the back of his mind and focuses on the matter at hand. For now, it is enough for him that Nanami is alive and well. It’s enough that he and Shoko will not have to bear the weight of memory and remembrance alone.

     He doesn’t think he has it in him to bury another friend from his youth.

     Sundari and Shoko are engaged in conversation some distance away while he and Nanami talk. Nanami watches him with his one, brown eye, pensive as always. Like his friend, he does not bother to cover his sight anymore. He will look curses full in the face without fear for he has endured the worst, and he will endure a whole lot more.

     It is why Satoru hates that he must be the one to tell Nanami that his role in this fight is over.

     “You’ve done enough,” Satoru says, and there’s none of the usual teasing or playfulness in his voice. “You can rest, my friend. You’ve done enough.”

     All his life, Nanami has done only what was required of him, no more, no less. He made the decision to come back to jujutsu because it was something he was good at, and something he saw could make an immediate difference in the lives of the people around him, and those charged to his care. Now, as injured as he is, he wonders again what he has to offer this world.

     Satoru tells him he doesn’t need to offer anything. His existence is proof enough of his purpose.

     “Let that spunky kid…Takoma? Inoue?”

     “Ino Takuma,” Nanami corrects wryly. “I was going to recommend him for Grade 1.”

     “As you should!” Satoru agrees with a grin that Nanami decides is a little too manic for his comfort. He turns his gaze toward Sundari and Shoko, pensive.

     “Sukuna’s daughter…” he says, his tone thoughtful and a tad mystified. Unfortunately, he’s never met her until he woke up from his coma not scant days ago. He heard from Yuji and others how well she acquitted herself in Shibuya, protecting civilians and staving off Sukuna himself for a time.

     “Yeah,” Satoru says, his tone just a tad too dreamy as his gaze settles on Sundari. Where Nanami sees a tall, bold, and animated young woman, Satoru sees so much more. He’ll always see her as bold, vibrant, and animated. He’ll always cherish her laughter, the way her garnet eyes sparkle when she’s cooking up a wicked idea. He’ll also remember what his name sounds like when she moans and screams, when she whispers it like a delicious secret, or shapes it like a scold. He can see the brightness of her cursed energy, a steady and wickless flame, controlled by her hard-won discipline. He thinks, if he looks hard enough, he can even see the shape of her soul; that brightness in her that—

     “You’re in love with her,” Nanami says flatly. Satoru seems to startle out of some sort of reverie, blinking incredulously at his friend.

     “What? What do you mean?” He asks, feigning confusion.

     “Don’t play coy, Gojo,” Nanami grouses. “I’ve been trying to get your attention for the last minute and a half. You’ve been staring at her like she plucked the stars from the sky. You’re in love with her. Sick in love, one might say.”

     Satoru allows himself a lopsided grin.

     “Yeah,” he agrees. “Yeah, I am. So what?”

     Nanami doesn’t have to say anything for Satoru to answer his own question. Instead, Satoru shrugs and stretches, even as he keeps Sundari in his peripheral vision. She spots him with her lower set of eyes, and he sees her smile turn into a smirk briefly, just for him. Oh, he’s going to fuck her stupid later.

     “Be careful,” Nanami says. “She may not be a threat to you, but eventually you’ll need a plan at the end of all of this.”

     Satoru doesn’t say it, doesn’t feel he needs to say it. He does have a plan at the end of all of this. He’s going to break that divine vow and free her of from paying the price of her father’s destruction with her life.

     Then, he’s going to ask her to marry him.

     There’s cake. Of course there’s fucking cake.

     Satoru marvels at the spread of desserts the students have put together to honor him: macarons, frozen fruit with whipped cream for dipping, a chocolate fountain, kikufuku from Sendai [a recent favorite and a hyperfixation of several weeks], an Indian dessert Sundari had introduced him to called gulab jamun, and the centerpiece of it all: a vanilla cake with buttercream frosting, with a chibi version of his face decorating the cake’s surface.

     Planted within the cake are two numbered candles, as well as an approximation of what looks to be a mini-Satoru figurine posing between them holding a blue candle and a red candle. Satoru notes the candles are sparking.

     And then there’s the birthday song: a terrible mishmash of differing pitches, threaded with nervous laughter as the group struggles to find the tune. Then they’re singing, clapping, laughing, and Satoru adjusts his silly conical birthday hat again, which is askew—just the way he and his goddess like it.

     He blows out the candles in one puff of breath, and although he places no stock in wishes, he does place plenty in dreams, and so he combines the two as the flames flicker and gutter under his power…even the trick candles Sundari had cleverly planted go out, much to her exasperation.

     He doesn’t tell anyone his wish, of course, but there’s cheers all around and for a moment, things seem normal.

     Except he notices the negative space where Megumi should be, and Sundari feel the absence of her mother keenly. He can see the struggle of his remaining students, fighting off the grim melancholy to celebrate a life in defiance of impending death. Satoru knows that under the more conservative restrictions of jujutsu society, this sort of celebration would never be allowed, and he might have even let his birthday pass unremarked.

     But he sees the smiles and laughter on their faces, these people who stand beside him, and witnesses a woman plucked from the ocean of time experiencing freedom of Self for the first time, and Satoru thinks maybe it’s okay to celebrate himself. After all, he’s done a lot of work!

     But also, it feels nice to be cherished for existing. Today of all days, everyone around him is celebrate him being born, not because of his gifts, but because he exists.

     Sundari catches his gaze, and he sees heat rush to her cheeks as the tender bend of her smile warms his blood. Shamelessly, he steps closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist to draw her to him and kiss her. There are cheers and whistles from his students, and Sundari bites her lip, resisting the urge to bury her face in Satoru’s chest. Well, if it wasn’t clear where their hearts lay, it is now.

     Later, when the sugar rush is over, and the fireworks are depleted, Satoru and Sundari take a moonlit stroll through the campus. Because of their combined presence, most cursed spirits have fled the area, and it leaves only the serene majesty of the dark mountains and forest, and two of the strongest sorcerers walking side by side.

     “I hope you enjoyed your birthday,” Sundari says softly, grinning. “We scraped together what we could over the last few weeks. And Nanami waking up was a pleasant surprise.”

     Satoru chuckles. “If I’m being honest, this was probably the best birthday I’ve had in a long time.”

     Sundari’s eyes widen, looking somewhere between delighted and surprised.

     “Really?” She asks. “Why?”

     Satoru sighs, leaning his head back with his eyes closed. Sundari waits patiently as they walk in relative silence for a long stretch of minutes. When Satoru collects his thoughts, he opens his eyes slowly.

     “Well,” he says. “Ever since I started working full time, life’s just kind of gotten away from me. I spend so much of my time teaching and traveling for missions and other assignments that it’s hard to slow down. And if I’m being honest? I don’t think I realized how much I was taking for granted until I got sealed.”

     Sundari tilts her head, trying to understand. Satoru’s hand finds hers, lacing their fingers.

     “In the Prison Realm, time doesn’t pass. It’s just one unending moment, like being stuck in the five minutes before it’s time to clock out phase. To keep from going mad, I did what I could in there.”

     Sundari chuckles. “You beat the hell out of your dick, didn’t you?”

     Satoru lets out a long, exasperated groan. “At least three to four times a day, god.”

     They both laugh at that, because the absurdity of it is just as funny as the fact that Sundari knows he’s not remotely kidding about having done it. She would have done the same, were it her.

     “But it also gave me time to think in a more focused state,” Satoru continues when their mirth subsides. “To plan for the future.”

     Sundari looks at him, and for a moment it feels as if time has slowed for them alone. He reaches up, brushing her cheek with a knuckle, his smile tender and fond. Sundari returns it, all fangs and mischief.

     “The future, hm?” She muses, and her arms reach up, twining about his neck. “The one where you mold young sorcerers into stronger versions of themselves?”

     Satoru chuckles, leaning in closer. “Yeah, and the one where you’re by my side helping me.”

     Sundari’s brows raise. “Oh? And what are you offering?”

     Satoru leans in, captures her lips in a searing kiss. Sundari holds him close, feeling something in her heart whispering, urging her to keep this memory close. It is his turn to whisper in her ear, dripping honeyed words of promise that make her eyes go wide and her pulse race. She pulls back to look at him, scarce believing what he’s said.

     “Truly?” She asks softly.

     Satoru’s smile is answer enough but he knows she wants to hear him say it.

     “Only if you want,” he says. Sundari bites her lip. Satoru reaches up to run an unhurried thumb over her lower lip. “No rush. We have time, but I know I do want you by my side, Sundari. You deserve to share in this future as much as anyone.”

     Sundari wants to hate his compassion, but she can’t. His heart is molten gold, unburdened by pessimism, and buoyed by determination and a clear goal. She admires that in him and bows her head in respect.

     “You honor me,” she says. “And I’ve done precious little to deserve it. But I have my vow to consider, Satoru. I don’t think…”

     Satoru tilts his head, his smile secretive and knowing. Sundari snorts and shakes her head. Of course he’s thought of everything. She has to trust him.

     “Come on,” he says. “Our walk’s not done.”

     And then, he takes her by the waist, holding her close as they begin to ascend into the air. Sundari clings to him as the wind blows, but he envelopes them both in infinity and suddenly the wind no longer chills her skin, no longer touches her at all. They are safe in the cocoon of forever, for now.

     “Satoru,” Sundari whispers. “Do you know how beloved you are?”

     Two blue eyes widen in surprise. It’s not what he expected her to say, suspended over Jujutsu Tech’s campus like this.

     “I’ve never really thought about it,” he murmurs. “I’ve been so focused on my mission, it’s hard to look up and see what’s passing me by sometimes.”

     Sundari chuckles. “You looked up today, though,” she says. “What did you see?”

     Satoru thinks for a moment, making a face where his tongue pokes out of his mouth, and his white brows pinch in a mock pensive expression.

     “I saw my friends, colleagues, and students…and the woman I love, celebrating my existence.” The realization comes to him and his cheeks flush with warmth.

     Sundari pulls him into a tight hug. “Because you’re worth celebrating, Satoru. You’ve changed so many lives and saved many more. Including mine. I’ll always be grateful for you, and those people down there will be too.” She pulls away, cupping his face in her hand and meeting that galactic blue gaze with her own glowing garnet one. He leans into her touch, placing his hand over hers. The infinity around them shimmers softly, gently distorting spacetime around them.

     “Your life has meaning,” Sundari tells him. “Because you exist. You are remarkable to me, not just because of your power, or even your beauty. But this.” She places her hand over his heart. “I fell in love with this. The very soul of you. And seeing these people who look to you for leadership, for counsel, for companionship…I want that too. I want this future with you.”

     Satoru’s eyes go wide. Is she saying?

     Yes.

˚⊱🪷⊰˚ Masterpost || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter ⤳

© 2024 Hajara Asiri. Do NOT copy, translate, plagiarize, repost anywhere without permission [reblogging posts is okay]. I only upload on Tumblr, AO3, and FFN. Title and footer banners by me. Dividers and support by @cafekitsune.

[alj4890]

On Impulse

(Maxwell Beaumont x OC) in a Choices The Royal Romance drabble

Thirty Kisses in Thirty Days Challenge with the prompt: a playful kiss given between laughter

Choices May Monthly Challenge: childhood friends | falling in love | holding hands

Rating G for fluff

@hopelessromantic1352 @twinkleallnight @tessa-liam @kingliam2019 @krsnlove @choicesficwriterscreations @fullbeaumonty @choiceschallenge-may2023 @jerzwriter

A/N Once upon a time (September of 2018 to be precise. Where has the time gone?!), I created my OC, Amanda Bridgerton, for Maxwell Beaumont in my first ever fanfic. About a year or so later I realized (along with many others in the fandom) through writing an angsty fic for the two that she was better suited for Thomas Hunt. So when I got this request from @twinkleallnight to reunite these two for a kiss challenge, it brought me back to all the times I wrote about Maxwell and Amanda secretly crushing on each other. So for this fic, Mr. Hunt is nowhere around to tempt her away from her love for Maxwell 😂😉

Masterlist

It was tiring being the proper, must always act a certain way noble. To have everyone watching and judging your every move, word you said, and even the way you dressed got old pretty fast.

It was only the first week of the social season and Maxwell was already exhausted.

"What's wrong?"

He looked up at Amanda.

"Nothing." He mumbled.

"It certainly doesn't look like nothing." She teased, poking him in his ticklish ribs.

He grinned at her. Leave it to his best friend to always know when he wasn't quite himself.

"Aren't you tired of this?" He whispered.

"Tired of what?"

"This." He gestured at the banquet hall filled to the brim with nobles and diplomats gathered together to celebrate King Constantine's wedding anniversary.

"I don't understand." Her brow furrowed. "Are you talking about the food or the company?"

"All of it!" He slumped back against a wall.

He couldn't help but think how much easier life used to be when he was younger. He was able to run around and do whatever he wanted with his friends without worry of the consequences. He typically had the woman next to him on many of his wild jaunts throughout the years. Come to think of it, most of his happiest memories included Amanda.

"I wish we were still children." He mumbled

She laughed, shaking her head at the memories that statement brought to mind. "I don't."

"You don't?"

"Maxwell," she huffed, "I was the most awkward girl in Cordonia. I was unfortunately born both clumsy and shy."

She winked at him. "Now I'm somewhat of a capable adult who might still be clumsy but can at least maintain a conversation without wanting to duck under a table."

He chuckled, slipping his arm around her shoulders.

"You weren't shy. You were simply quiet."

"I was always overthinking things." Amanda pointed out. "I still do, but I hide it better than I did when we were young."

"I could always tell when you were." Maxwell squeezed her close. "You chewed your bottom lip when overthinking."

She gently elbowed him. "Thanks for the reminder."

"You still do that, by the way." He whispered loudly.

She bit down on her bottom lip out of habit while fighting back a smile.

"Must you watch me all the time, Lord Beaumont?"

"I must, your grace." He dropped his arm, slipping his hand in hers. "How else can I make sure my best friend is enjoying herself?"

"You could simply ask me."

"True. But where's the fun in that?"

"Alright, Maxwell. Since you claim to know my tells so well. What am I feeling right now?"

She reluctantly pulled her hand away while turning to face him. Amanda cocked her head at an angle as she looked up at him. Her large hazel eyes held his ocean blue ones. A well practiced court smile was on her lips as she loosely clasped her hands together.

He lowered his head level with hers and narrowed his eyes in thought.

Amanda felt her cheeks flare with color over the intense way he studied her face.

Maxwell slowly smiled at the effect he had over her.

"I know what you need."

"You do?" She unconsciously bit down on her bottom lip.

His eyes darted down to her mouth, noticing the tell immediately.

"What is going through that mind of yours?" He asked, mostly to himself.

She averted her eyes, blushing all the more. If he only knew the thoughts she had about him, this would be a completely different conversation.

Amanda cleared her throat. "I believe you said you know what I need."

Maxwell grasped her hand again before sneaking quietly out of the room.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"Out." He declared, briefly nodding to the footman who held a side door open for them.

"I gathered that." Amanda said drily. "But where specifically."

"We are going to get a breath of fresh air and see what wild notion comes over us." Maxwell decided.

"We are?"

"We are."

She couldn't help but smile over how determined he sounded. If there was one thing she could always depend on, it was Maxwell Beaumont living life on impulse alone.

"Now what?" She asked once they were far enough away from the palace.

His brow furrowed in thought as he considered their surroundings. There was the hedge maze where they used to play hide and seek with Liam, Drake, and Olivia. There was also the royal orchard where they long ago held their races and games of tag. Then there was the pond where they used to jump into the frigid water with their clothes on.

Maxwell wondered if she'd still be game to go swimming.

He cut his eyes to Amanda the moment she let go of his hand. She lifted both her hands to try and repin the strands of hair that had become loose from her formal updo. He remembered all the years she allowed the heavy dark brown mass to hang freely down her back. As a little boy who was completely head over heels for her, he'd loved to playfully pull it.

Now as a man, he would love to thread his fingers through it while his lips touched her--

"What?" She asked when she noticed him staring at her.

Maxwell felt heat creep up his neck.

He coughed and refocused on the landscape. "Nothing."

He glanced at her again to see her still struggling with her hair. On impulse, he reached over and pulled a few strategically placed pins free. He threw them as far as he could from where they were standing.

"Maxwell!" She cried out when her hair tumbled down past her shoulders. "Now what am I going to do?! I can't return to dinner looking like this!"

"Sorry." His unrepentant grin flashed at her.

"Liar." She couldn't stop herself from grinning at him. "You do realize that now that you made me unpresentable, you'll be forced to spend the rest of the night with me."

He reached up and tucked a windblown lock behind her ear. "I can live with that."

She stilled at the touch of his fingers grazing down her cheek.

Their eyes met.

Neither was sure what to do about the feelings the other caused. Of course, neither one knew how much the other would love it if they made the first move.

Amanda broke eye contact first.

"Should we go for a walk?"

"Um. Sure."

Maxwell's hand found hers once more.

He realized he did it without thinking. He'd always taken her hand since they were children. She had truly been a clumsy little girl and as her best friend, he felt he had to help keep her upright. He'd ignored the snickers and teasing from the other children and continued to hold Amanda's hand whenever they walked or ran about.

It was a habit he'd never broken, one he hoped to never break.

Amanda didn't seem to mind when he did so, which was a relief. He doubted he'd be able to stop something that was now like breathing to him.

"Oh!" She stumbled, losing her shoe.

Maxwell caught her before she fell.

"I got you!" He grasped her arms.

She blew a lock of hair out of her face while holding tight to him.

"Thank you." She twisted around to see her high heel stuck in a soft patch of grass. "Word to the wise. Do not wear Louboutins while trekking through the wild."

He chuckled and knelt down to help her slip her shoe back on.

"There we go, Cinderella." He teased.

"Please." She scoffed. "We both know I'm not princess fairy tale material."

"What makes you say that?"

"For one thing, look at me. Do I honestly look like something that would make a man scour a kingdom to find again, much less fall in love at first sight?"

Maxwell was more than ready to answer that question in great detail.

And," she continued unaware that he was ready to tell her what he really thought about her, "there are two single princes in that palace. Neither have ever looked at me like Prince Charming did Cinderella."

Maxwell gazed up at her. "Do you want Leo and Liam to look at you like that?"

Amanda realized her joke was being taken seriously. She couldn't recall a time where Maxwell's voice and manner had ever been so somber.

"I adore them both and they are definitely charming and handsome." She hesitated before adding, "but, I don't think I want either of them to be interested in me like that."

Maxwell quietly got to his feet, dusted his knees off, and took her hand once more.

She didn't like how serious he seemed. The dark clouds building overhead had nothing on the expression on his face.

Amanda decided to get him back in that playful, spontaneous frame of mind.

She pulled her hand from his and tapped his shoulder.

"Tag! You're it!" She exclaimed before she took off running.

Maxwell stared in disbelief at her kicking her shoes off and hiking her skirt well above her knees. It took him a few more seconds to react, giving her enough time to disappear in the apple orchard.

He took off after her.

Once he got to the last place he saw her, he stopped and looked around.

He tried to listen for any footsteps or the rustlings of her ball gown.

His eyes narrowed as he scanned the area falling swiftly into darkness as more clouds rolled in. The wind picked up with the smell of rain permeating the air.

"Okay!" He called out. "I give up! Where are you?"

Silence answered him.

He dropped his head back.

"I'm serious! You're the winner, Amanda! Where did you go?"

Maxwell folded his arms.

"Come on, Amanda! Why won't you--"

He yelped when she dropped down from a nearby apple tree branch.

"Hah!" She took off running again before he could grab her.

"I've got you now!" He caught up to her fast, embracing her from behind.

Amanda squealed when he lifted her off the ground, laughing even harder when he began to tickle her.

"Max, no--stop--have mercy" She doubled over trying to escape him. "Please! Uncle!"

His hands stilled their torture.

Amanda managed to catch her breath, her smile was still peeping out at him as she tried to right her appearance.

Maxwell reached out to pluck a stray leaf from her hair.

"Thank you." She grinned at him. "Now m'lord, if you would be so kind as to assist me in finding where I left my shoes, I--"

He held them up in front of her.

She reached for them, only for Maxwell to lift them higher.

"What are you doing?" She asked with a giggle.

"Keeping you here." He replied. "With your hair down and no shoes on, there's no way you can return to the palace until everyone has gone to bed."

He had a smug expression on his face.

"Can you imagine the gossip if you did show up looking like a lady who rolled around in the dirt?"

"Dirt?!" She pulled a small compact from her pocket and checked her appearance. A bit of dirt touched on one cheek while another spot was directly over her left eyebrow.

"Good heavens!" She tried to wipe it off.

"Here, let me." Maxwell used his pocket square to gently clean her face.

Another round of laughter slipped out.

"What's so funny?" He asked.

"I was thinking what Uncle Nicky would say if he was to see us right now." She giggled again.

Maxwell chuckled at the thought of what fun loving Nicholas Bridgerton would think of them running around like children.

"He'd probably be proud of us for cutting loose."

"Probably."

Amanda began to squirm the longer Maxwell cleaned her face.

"I don't believe I am that dirty." She teased.

His eyes met hers. His dimples deepened with another grin.

"It's difficult to clean with no water at hand."

"We could always sneak back inside and--"

The clouds opened up.

The two looked up at the rain falling then at each other. Within seconds they were drenched.

And they couldn't stop laughing at the state they were both in. After all, they were supposed to be two respectable nobles of Cordonia. One look at them now and no one would believe that.

Maxwell still had her face cupped in his hands. On impulse, he leaned forward and kissed her, smothering her laughter for a brief moment.

He could feel her still shake with laughter as her arms slipped around his neck. He smiled against her lips as the brief kiss came to an end.

Amanda looked up at him, her own smile bright with wonder.

Maxwell lifted her off the ground, swinging her in a circle as the rain continued to fall.

She giggled, holding tight to him.

Once he set her back on the ground, she tugged him back down for a deeper kiss.

He sank into her embrace, glorying in feeling her lips part under his urging. Their tongues tangled, causing them both to move closer to the other.

"We should do that more often." Maxwell said a touch breathlessly.

"I think so too." Amanda pressed another sweet kiss to his lips, letting them linger there as she spoke. "In fact, I think it should become our new way to play together."

"So like tag but instead of tapping each other with our hands, we use our mouths?" He teased in the midst of kissing down her neck.

She laughed while nodding her head.

"Then tag," he dipped her while kissing her once more, "you're it."

[callmewrinkles3]

Come Back, Be Here - DR3 x Fem!OC

Masterlist

Summary: One race until the end of the season, and one race until Dan gets to go home for New Years and six weeks of family time. But he and Emmy are facing their longest separation since 2018, and neither of them are facing the truth of what it means.

Words: 7.2k

Warnings: Abu Dhabi 2021, angst (it’s this series what do you expect), explicit smut (18+ only pls!), mentions of breaking laws in Middle Eastern countries.

AN: We had to share something for the DannyRic GP, and why not the moment that started the downward spiral for these two? We are aware that they probably wouldn’t get in trouble for being physically affectionate in public, but Em sticks to the rules and is a worst case scenario person so here we are. We hope you enjoy! Alex and Cíara xx

December, 2021

This leg of the race calendar was punishing. It didn’t give you a moment to breathe, three double headers in a row. And hardest of all for Dan, the last three races were in the Middle East.

He’d learned more about the human rights side of things, but he’d never consider himself well educated on it. He’d talked to other drivers, looked online, all of that. But on a purely selfish level Middle Eastern races meant that he and Em were back to their old pattern of separate hotel rooms, one of them slipping out of the others at the crack of dawn so they weren’t caught sharing. It was stupid and illogical and he missed the feeling of getting to wake up slowly with her half sprawled across him, of soft kisses and slow sex to get ready for the day.

Instead it was mumbled goodbyes and kisses on her forehead. Qatar wasn’t too bad, they finished the race and got to head back to Europe. He spent more time on the sim, trying to get to grips with how the car reacted and bring back some of the magic from Monza. And then he’d go home and open up the door of that little flat to see Em on the couch still working away, or she’d arrive in just after him from Blake’s with a smile and a “I was asked to remind you the walls are thin, please don’t make me scream tonight again.” She always blushed and he grinned, kissing it away and wrapping her in a hug to put aside the mixed feelings he had about McLaren. 

But they were in Saudi Arabia and he fucking hated it here. He hated that for the next two months he couldn’t hold Em’s hand. He couldn’t wake up beside her in bed. That he’d get on the plane to Perth and she’d be left behind because she was going back to London and he didn’t want to do it.

Originally how late the calendar ran because of covid was perfect. They would arrive into Perth just as the major restrictions would be lifted, the hotel was booked for two weeks, they’d be home just after Christmas. It would work. And then the rules changed and it was citizens and spouses of citizens only and there was no way around it. They were in Austin when they got the news, cancelling the flight for Em with tears.

It was just after the race in Saudi, sitting in his driver room and wanting to head back to the hotel when Michael walked in. Everything was ready and he stood, but one look from Michael made him sit and stay quiet.

“Are you gonna ask Em to marry you so she can come home with us?”

He thought he was about to laugh at the question, but Michael’s face was sincere. 

“Mate, no. God I wish I could. But no. I have a plan, and her thinking that I’m only asking her so she can come is not in it. I wouldn’t do that to her.”

“You have a plan? Shouldn’t you at least go on a couple of dates? Have dinner out like a couple? Work out if it’s what’s gonna happen?”

He could see the surprise on his best mate’s face, watching as Dan took a deep breath and stretched out his back. He’d had the plan since the four of them were in lockdown together on the farm, when Em got off the wooden lounger she was sharing with him to get four more beers. He sat there, took the last gulp out of his bottle, and said “I’m going to marry her some day. Emmy’s the one. She’s it.”

Emmy had come back and curled on his chest again before they could say anything else, sitting there in the cooling night air while he ran his hand up and down her arm. It was perfect and he knew that was it, she was the one. The ring was sitting in his bag waiting for the right moment.

“Mate I know it will. We live together. We do dates when we have our Italy trips, and she still hasn’t forgotten I owe her for Lake Como last year because I won Monza instead. We don’t need dates.”

“Just take her on one. Mate, seriously, take her out. Do it properly.” The insistence was weird, it was never how Mike usually was. In fairness he and Blake usually stayed out of whatever he and Emmy were doing, unless it interrupted Blake’s sleep and he got an angry text. They’d gotten a lot better at not doing that though.

“Did she tell you something? Why are you making a big deal about this? I know what I’m doing.”

“She hasn’t said anything, but just…I see the way the two of you look at each other. You’re not gonna see her for six weeks, and I’m pretty sure the last time the two of you went that long without seeing each other was that gap between her coming to Monaco and whatever the race she went to after in 2018.  Take your girl on a date and make sure she’s your girl.”

“I fucking can’t!” He was louder than he meant to be, opening and closing his hand and standing up. The fucking “cultural norms” and rules that meant they couldn’t do it. If they were just tourists then yeah, maybe. But there’d be cameras and people would see and he wouldn’t put it past a government to make an example of them.

“Why not? It’s easy. “Hey Em I’m in love with you and have been probably since I brought you to Perth for the first time, lets go for dinner before we spend six weeks apart.” That’s all you have to say. She’ll say yes.”

“Because we’re in the Middle fucking East. I’m not even supposed to get in a car with her, let alone be in public with her alone. And it’s pretty public that we’re not married so we can’t risk it. And don’t remind me that it’s gonna be fifty one days without her. That’s how long it’ll be till I see her once we get on that plane.”

“Dan…” But he was on a roll, finally able to explain everything that had been so painful to think about.

“We break so many rules in so many countries just to be able to sit at each others sides. I can get in trouble for sitting by her side in the car, holding her hand. It’s my thing every single day to be with her in the car. It’s our thing to go on ride to get to be alone for a minute before the rest of the world gets me. I can’t even stay in the same room as her if there isn’t someone there. I’m not supposed to go to bed hugging the girl of my dreams. Do you know the risk that I take every single time I sneak out of her room? The danger she’s in? There’s literal fucking morality police here. And every night we decide fuck it, it’s worth it and I just hug her tighter because it could turn into a living nightmare for her. So please. Don’t ask me “why not” like it’s some simple question because it’s not. There’s nothing I want more than that.”

It was quiet as Dan took a breath, the reminders of last year and the way they worried as he got back into the car after watching Romain escape the flames hit him again.

“Remember Bahrain last year? The way I hid in my drivers room with her?” Michael nodded. “That could have gotten us arrested for just being alone together and all that happened was she held onto me and stopped me from wanting to scream. The fact that we’re here so we have to do this? We have to pretend that it’s ok not to even get to hug each other? I’d kill for a podium, or even imagine a win, but then she couldn’t hug me. It’s backwards and it’s fucked and yeah I’m rich and white so we’d probably be fine but it’s not worth the risk. We do it anyway. Because we have to.”

“Mate. I’m sorry.”

“Just please. I have a plan. When we move into the new place I’m gonna talk to her about admitting everything. And next time she’s able to come to the farm I’m gonna propose. I’ve had the ring for a year. A little longer isn’t going to hurt.”

“As long as you know what you’re doing. I trust you, but don’t hurt her. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t. We’ll be good. She knows me better than I know myself.”

They nodded at each other and left the room, Blake and Em standing outside the hospitality with a few feet between them. Instead the four walked out to a car available for them to go back to the hotel. Ten days till the flight to Perth. He had to make the most of them.

—

Once they arrived in Abu Dhabi Em was counting down. They got in on Monday ahead of most of the rest of McLaren, checking into the hotel and getting their rooms. She had the emails and went to the counter, getting the keys and pointing out the boys across the lobby and the ridiculous amount of luggage they all travelled with. Travelling light was not a thing Formula One did.

The four envelopes were slid over, Em taking them and checking the keys. The little printed labels with their names were the same as in nearly any other Hilton, but seeing Dan’s on his own and hers on her own made her so frustrated.

She knew she’d been putting off thinking about the flight home after the race. Until they got to the airport she could pretend they were getting on the same plane, holding hands over the little divider like they did so often, curling up in bed and look at new apartments. They had months left on their self imposed timeline of the summer break, her lease was month to month, but they wanted this. A place that was theirs felt right for once.

“You ok?” Dan asked when Blake and Michael had gone up to their rooms. They were sitting on opposite sides of a coffee table, each fiddling with the envelope in their hands. The evening was a free one before the chaos of the final race of the season began. Both titles coming down to one race? It wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Yeah. Just…yeah.”

“It sucks.”

“It really sucks.” She smiled wistfully, trying to get herself together. They still had time. They weren’t leaving till Tuesday night, Lando agreeing to do the final day of tyre testing so Dan could make it home. The offer was there for Em to fly home early, as if that would happen. She hadn’t let them book her on an earlier flight to London. It wasn’t worth having a little less time with her boys.

“I just hate being apart. I hate not getting to share a room with you. Not even getting to give you a hug in public. I know it’s stupid, but this week?”

“It’s not forever.” Dan sounded different and she looked up at him, watching him search for his words. “After we move, y’know? Next year. We find the apartment and we move in and then we can figure out the rest.”

“That sounds really good.”

Their rooms were at least on the same floor, and she handed Dan the spare card for her room, watching him grin as she did. She went in and did her usual unpacking routine - toiletries in the bathroom, her planned clothes for the circuit hanging up neatly, checking the locks worked and the mirrors were real after one too many TikTok’s that terrified her. Her final step was putting her pillow on the bed, the habit Michael had made her pick up after one too many complaints about her awful sleeping habits. It didn’t particularly help, but she did it anyway.

They’d gotten in late, but there was only a one hour time difference. The room service menu looked good, a lamb kofta and lemon tart for dinner. The food arrived not long after she ordered and she settled at the desk to eat.

Three minutes later there was a knock at the door and it opened, Dan coming in with his own plate. A kiss to her head before he sat down with his steak, Em watching as he cut in and smiled at how it was cut.

“You’re a simple boy, eh Dimples?” She asked, enjoying how the first nickname she gave him that drunken night had stuck.

“I’ve got you and a steak, what else could I possibly want Emmy?”

“You know you don’t need to charm me, right?” He held out a forkful of peppers for her, in return she gave him some fries. 

“But if I want to?”

“Then by all means, but don’t expect magic. I didn’t bring anything fancy considering what customs here is like.” The last time she’d brought anything involving what she considered her nice underwear was in 2019 when her luggage had been searched. She wasn’t doing that again.

They ate in mostly silence, Dan leaving only to put his room service cart outside his door and hang the do not disturb sign on it. Once he was back they got ready for bed, another episode of Criminal Minds on TV as they cuddled and got comfy. Em couldn’t tell you what happened, instead lulled to sleep by Dan’s fingers in her hair and a kiss against her forehead every few minutes.

The next few days passed, and she could see the seething rivalry between Red Bull and Mercedes was going to spill over. Thing were tense in the paddock, she’d never felt an atmosphere like it. Her first two years were a party mode, people glad a season was over, relaxing and looking forward to the break. Last year was covid and weird. But this felt strange.

She was sitting having coffee with Britta on Thursday morning before media really kicked off and asked her the magic question.

“Has a final race been like this before? It feels…weird.” The other woman laughed, checking her watch and taking a sip before answering.

“2016. 2012 a little, but we won so I kind of forget it. Things didn’t feel as poisonous then. Everyone knew unless Sebastian didn’t finish he’d probably win, so that was the aim. But 2016 was rough, and we weren’t near Mercedes then. It’s going to be interesting.”

“Definitely.” She wanted to see Dan at the top of the standings, wanted to see him race and race well. But this felt weird. She’d known Max just out of his teens, focused and sure and cocky. Lewis had become a friend. It was weird calling him that, but it was how things were.

Seeing Dan finish out of the points wasn’t great, but it was over and the season was done. The safety car finish that wasn’t a safety car finish, the way it all ended up left a weird taste in her mouth. Em had no loyalty to any team despite the friendships she’d made with people across both of them. Splitting the trophies felt just. But it was still strange. That night they all went to a party held by someone, drinking and dancing. In the rented out room it felt safe to be near Dan, but as soon as they were leaving for the hotel it was that gap between them. Into the provided car and through the lobby and up to her room, Dan stepping in behind her and pinning her against the wall. The sex was fierce and frantic and desperate, both of them putting everything they had into it. Dan rubbing against her, filthy words falling out of his mouth about how she looked, how she felt, how good she was as she begged him for more and more until they were seeing stars and clutched together.

Monday was promo. Em sat at the side of the garage with her iPad, already slotting in dates for the following season. Her earplugs were carefully in her ears as she watched the filming happen, content for the off season between Lando and Dan. It was exhausting, but the season was over. So many flights and hotels and this and that and the other. They’d done the maths and realised they spent more time in hotels than their bedroom during the season. She wanted to go home.

But she didn’t. She didn’t want to be in the cold London apartment alone. She didn’t want to sit on their couch and hit her leg off the coffee table Dan hated. She didn’t want to put his helmet on the shelf alone. They had a ceremony for it, Dan’s arms around her as she slid it into its new home. But their time together was ticking away shorter and shorter and she didn’t want to think about it. So she pulled up the latest apartment listings he’d sent to see if any of them suited. And then frowned when she realised he was looking in his rental bracket, not hers.

“Penny for them?” Blake asked, slipping into the chair across from her. She made herself smile up, hitting the lock button on the iPad and closing the case.

“Not a lot. Looking at apartments, wondering what the hell Danny is thinking of with some of them. I told him my budget.”

“And you know Dan. He wants the perfect place. You two doing ok?”

“There’s no us two, Blake.” Her words were short but she’d had enough of everyone saying they were together.

“Tamothy you’re either being wilfully or deliberately blind. He worships the ground you walk on. You’re moving in together. I live beside you, I hear too much.”

“We’re moving into a two bedroom.” She took a breath before continuing, letting that sink in. “Dan and I are…we are complicated and messy but he is my best friend. He knows me better than anybody else does. And whatever is going on with us is between us. You know I love you, you know you’re my brother, but you have to let this be between us. Ok?” 

She took a sip of the iced tea beside her, stretching out her shoulders and arms the way Michael had instructed her to every half hour she was typing away. Blake looked like he was going to say something but Dan arrived over, grinning and wearing yet another OKX shirt.

“Did you take a look at the listings? I really like the SE1 one, it’s got balcony views over the Thames. If you can view when you’re back we can do the deposit?” He took her bottle and half emptied it, handing it back to Em who took another sip before looking up at him.

“I saw, except it’s five times the budget we said. Dan, seriously.”

“Emmy we can afford it. If we decide to do a budget by income like we should it’s me covering most of the expenses. Have a look at it?” He tried widening his eyes but she was immune from them. Mostly.

“No. We’re looking in the price range you and I set. Then if we can’t find anything that suits we’ll go higher. Understood?” He nodded. “This shoot is only supposed to be another twenty minutes, how’s it going?”

“My part’s nearly done. What’s next?”

“You get a full thirty minutes for lunch if you’re on time. Then it’s a couple of Android ads. I got them to give Blake a Pixel phone and tablet so you can look like you use them all the time instead of being the Apple geek we know you are. Once that’s done it’s a Gulf Oil pre-tape, a couple of holiday messages to record - Christmas, New Years, Lunar New Year because that’s before you’re back from Australia - and then you’re mostly done for the day. Apart from the Pirelli test meeting at five. That’s just going over the tires for tomorrow, the aim, introduce you to how the mule cars will work. That kind of thing.”

“You are my calendar countess, thank you Emmy! Going back to work now, are you both getting lunch then?”

“I’ll drag her from her desk!” Dan grinned at Blake’s response before jogging back. Once he was gone Blake stared at Em with wide eyes. “You drank from your bottle.”

“And?” She waved her hand at the papaya insulated metal bottle she carried with her everywhere. Water usually, but in hotter places it was iced tea with ice cubes carefully prodded through the lid. Everyone regularly in the garages had one.

“You never do that. I saw you nearly slap Michaels hand away for doing it. But you let Dan who was sweaty from being under huge lights all morning drink out of it and you drank out of it straight away.”

“So? It’s not a big deal.” It wasn’t. She was sanitary, that was all. Dan’s tongue was in her mouth most days, it wasn’t a big deal to share a water bottle. She forced Blake’s words out of her mouth as she started planning the 2022 Ric3 release schedule, only interrupted by going for lunch before spending the rest of her day on it. That night she didn’t do her usual day before checkout routine, instead curling up in bed with Dan for a lazy make out session before they went to sleep.

The next morning Em stopped packing and looked up at Daniel, watching him pace around the hotel room that he hadn’t left that morning, needing the extra time with her. He was more anxious than usual before getting in the car.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She pulled his chin down so he stared at her before getting on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“I just wish you were going to be in Perth with us. The kids miss you and want to see you, Mum and Dad keep bugging me that I have to be able to do something to get you in. We could do Melbourne or Sydney and spend it—“

“And you’d spend it away from your family when the entire reason you’re going back to Oz and spending fifteen days in a very small hotel room with Mikey is to see them. It sucks. It completely sucks that we’re going to be apart for two months. It sucks that we’re not spending Christmas together when we’ve spent almost every day of the last two years together. But you need to see them.” She couldn’t help the tears falling at her words, the realisation that she had to spend so much time away from her boys hitting her. They’d been her entire life, but they needed to see the other people who loved them even though she couldn’t go. She and Dan had poured over the regulations but had come to the same conclusion. She wasn’t Australian, she wasn’t married to an Australian, so she couldn’t enter Western Australia. None of Dan’s connections could get the restrictions lifted, even though she’d asked him not to try. He still had because of course he had.

“Emmy, don’t cry.” He sat on the bed and pulled her close, cradling her the same way they’d curl up on a jet together. Mike would be at the door any minute telling him to get his ass downstairs, testing was starting soon, but he didn’t care. She came first.

“I’m sorry. I just…ugh. I want to be there. I miss everyone. I want my big hug from everyone and the reminder to eat up because we don’t settle down in one place enough. I want to spend a day cooking with Grace and Michelle and getting shown the recipes she doesn’t trust you with. It’s just not fucking fair.” Dan’s hand ran through her hair, pushing kisses to her forehead as he soothed her. Seven fucking weeks. Fifty one days. It was the longest they’d spent apart since she’d gone to Barcelona in 2018.

“None of this is fair. I’ll come back to London, we can spend Christmas in the flat and start looking for our new place. I don’t want you alone for it or having to get the train to Liverpool.”

“You’re going to Perth. You already paid the stupid amount of money for hotel quarantine, we both know you don’t have a choice. I’ll be fine.”

She nearly convinced herself as she got off his lap the moment before Mike came into their room, wiping her eyes and picking up her tablet before joining them in the car. Blake had told her to take the day off, but there was already dates for sponsor videos and the next car launch, and some stupid OKX campaign involving Dan as a magician that she thought was ridiculous but she’d seen how much money they were personally paying him so it had to happen. While Dan drove laps around Yas Marina to put the season that had the highest highs and the lowest lows behind them she worked, tapping away at the keyboard with more force than she intended.

“What did the poor machine do to you?” She turned at the American accent, Zak Brown standing behind her looking her up and down. Emmy shook her head and put her press smile on.

“Decided to push more things onto a schedule than there’s hours in the day. What can I do for you, Mr Brown?” The older man’s expression was smarmy and she dreaded what he was about to say.

“We need Daniel to drive tom—“

“No.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“You want Daniel to drive tomorrow morning instead of doing the full run today. That’s not going to work. He’s booked on a flight to Perth at three in the morning and is booked into his hotel quarantine for when he arrives in Australia. This is non negotiable.” She wasn’t afraid to stand up to Brown anymore, not after the rumour Carmen had slipped her he’d spread.

“Lando can’t drive in the morning, he’s booked on a flight then.”

“I don’t care.” She stared at him, taking a breath before speaking. “Lando’s family is in England and he was able to spend most of 2020 and basically all of 2021 with them. They were able to be at races with him. Dan hasn’t seen his family since April last year apart from FaceTime, and thanks to the season running so late this year he’s already missing Christmas and Boxing Day with them. He’s not delaying seeing them by extra time. Plus, there’s flights to London nearly every hour, Lando can get any one of them. Dan’s flight isn’t changing. Don’t ask again.”

“And if I ask him to?” She hadn’t realised the car had pulled back into the garage, Dan making a beeline for his manager’s assistant and the CEO speaking in harsh whispers at the back of the garage.

“If you ask me to what?” He swallowed part of the protein smoothie Mike had handed him while waiting for Zak to speak.

“I was telling your little assistant here that Lando needs to go back to London tonight to see family, so I need you to do tomorrow morning’s testing session. She told me you wouldn’t do it, but I know you will, right?” Emmy looked at Dan, dreading his response

“I can’t. I’ve organised hotel quarantine with the WA government, I’ve paid for it. If I’m not on that flight then I miss my quarantine spot and there’s no guarantee I’ll get another one. Lando told me yesterday afternoon he was fine about it, he had plans to spend Thursday golfing in Dubai before flying home. If Emmy says something about my schedule then that’s my schedule, she’s the one who keeps all that.”

They were a united front, and she could feel the heat radiating from his sweaty race suit just behind her. Instead of leaning back like she wanted she stayed still to watch Brown take in Dan’s words.

“Ok. We’ll make it work. Dan, Emmy.” He turned to walk away, but Emmy stopped him.

“Mr Brown?”

“Yes?”

“It’s Emma, if you don’t mind. Only certain people call me Emmy, I’d like to keep it that way.”

They watched him walk out of the garage towards hospitality and it took Dan less than five seconds to grab her hand and pull her back to his drivers room.

“Dan?” She asked once he’d closed the door, pushing her against it.

“That was fucking hot. Making sure I get to go? Standing up to him? Not letting him call you the name I gave you? Hot as hell.”

His lips dropped to her neck, tracing the length of the silver chain she always wore until he reached the number three on it. It was her birthday present from 2018, given to her during the summer break. Just weeks after they’d decided to be friends who slept together. 

She hated the word friends. 

“You have to eat. And drive. We can’t right now.”

“At the hotel? I want to say goodbye to you properly. Two months is too long.”

“I know, Babe. I know.”

She pressed open mouthed kisses to his jaw before pushing him slightly, pulling her ipad to her as she perched on the little desk before Mike arrived back. They were the picture of professionalism, apart from Dan’s pinkie running up and down her thigh.

When he was back in the car she had her last meeting with Michael, the two of them running through the final plans for the online platform over the winter, the pre recorded information ready to go.

“You doing ok?” Michael asked and she nodded, trying to smile. “Really?”

“I will be. It’s just gonna be weird spending time without the three of you. Dan and I haven’t been apart since we were all in lockdown.”

“Any news about you and Dan?”

“Gossiping, much?!” She tried laughing, not letting her worries show. “He’s my guy, he’s my best friend. Whatever the media or anyone says doesn’t matter. Danny knows more about me than anyone else.”

“You know we’re on your side.”

There was nothing else she could say to that. Fortunately Dan appeared out of the car, changed but unshowered.

“Winter break, here we come! I’m thinking hotel to nap, and then we can get food before we change and head to the airport? Book the restaurant for eight thirty?” Dan’s curls were wild and he still had the balaclava marks on his cheeks that Em loved to kiss off his face. Instead she stood up, adjusting the bright orange shirt as she picked up the last few things she had.

“Yeah, works for us. Make sure we’re all packed up so we can just grab them and go straight to the airport. Who’s driving? Emmy?”

“Nah, not tonight. I’m too tired, and considering the way things are around here a woman driving a car full of men?” She smiled, Blake and Mike realising the excuse she wasn’t saying.

“I’ll drive. Be fine. Let’s head back.” Blake shepherded them out, everyone saying goodbye to the team they’d worked with for the year. Em checked her watch, eleven hours until she’d have said goodbye to her boys for two months, and she wasn’t ready. 

The drive back to the Hilton was quick. Mike took the passenger seat without asking leaving her and Dan holding hands in the back. When they were in the garage they waved goodbye, everyone going to their room and agreeing to meet later for dinner. Once the door to their room was closed Dan pulled her close, his hands half lifting her as her legs wrapped around his waist when she jumped.

“Dan,” Em groaned, holding onto his shoulders.

“Ive got you baby girl, I’ve got you. I promise I’ve got you.” His lips moved further down her neck as he pulled the team shirt off her body to reveal a new pink bra. “For me?”

“Wanted to look pretty for you, give you something to remember.”

“You say that like I could ever forget you.” 

She was lost in the sensations, both of them shuffling clothing off in a desperate attempt to be closer. Dan’s fingers slid through the matching underwear, long digits brushing through the wet folds.

“Dan I need more. Please?” Her hips bucked up and he laid her on one of the beds in the room, hovering over her.

“I’ve got you, Emmy. I’ve always got you.” Dan’s brown eyes were clear, the depths of emotion starting. She gasped as he entered her fully, filling her to the hilt in that way she knew so, so well. Every single time they slept together it felt right, Dan stretching her perfectly. She rolled her hips and smirked at the groan he let out, taking the hint to move.

Never ask Emmy what he did in those moments, the way he moved and brought her to her first orgasm, and then her second. They were chasing their highs together, lips clashing and his thumb rubbing circles around her clit just above where she was so gloriously full.

“Let me feel you, Emmy. So perfect right like that, let me feel how good you feel.”

“Danny…Danny please babe, just there please.” She couldn’t tell who came first, the two of them hitting their climax at nearly the same time. 

The last thing she wanted was for him to pull out and move, to remind her that their time together was getting shorter and shorter and they’d have to say goodbye soon. Dan seemed the same way, pushing kisses to her chest before being forced to move. Getting cleaned up after sex was easy for them now, but instead he lifted her up and carried her into the bathroom, ignoring Emmy’s complaints.

“Dan! Put me down! PUT ME DOWN!! What are you doing?!” She called, trying to wriggle out of his tight grip.

“Bath. If we don’t get one for a while I want a proper one. We don’t have wine, but we can relax for a little while. Please?” She could never say no to his big brown eyes, reaching up to kiss his cheek.

“Sounds perfect.”

The tub in the suite was large enough for both of them, Em leaning back into his arms in the hot water. Every so often she felt Dan push a kiss to her head, smiling at the movement. 

“Are you going home for Christmas?” He asked and she fought but failed to stop her body going stiff. “Shit, sorry.”

“It’s fine. London’s as much home as anywhere else, either there or Monaco or Perth. But no, I’m staying away from Liverpool. I didn’t even get a text asking what I was doing for it this year.” The realisation that she hadn’t gotten anything after her happy birthday text in August hurt a little, but she just relaxed into Dan again.

“I’m sorry. It’s not fair.”

“None of it is, but it’ll be fine. I’ll curl up, take care of Blake’s plants, get your schedule for the start of next year done. Who knows, I might use some of the ridiculous salary you pay me and take a holiday. Chloe said she and Scotty are spending New Years in Switzerland. She doesn’t want me to be lonely.”

“They’re good friends. You should go. Don’t spend it all alone in the flat without me. I might look up some places for us? I’ll find some that are in your price range, I promise.” She leaned back against him to relax before she replied.

“That’s the plan Roomie.” The moving in talk gutted her every time he brought it up. As friends. Friends who slept together and were intimate together and who loved each other so much it hurt to be separated.

“I’ll see what I can find. Somewhere with lots of light and a balcony I think.”

“Sounds perfect.”

She could have fallen asleep there but the alarm she’d set went off, making her stand up as Dan ran his fingers down her legs.

“Emmy…”

“No, Danny. We need to get ready. Once we leave here you know what the rules are.” The stupid unmarried couple UAE rules. The reason she insisted she stood between Blake and Mike for most of the time they were outside, because if she and Danny were beside each other holding hands was the least they usually did.

“You know, right?” His voice was plaintive, Em dropping a kiss to the top of his head.

“I know. I know you do but y’know, right?”

A squeeze of her hand was the only response.

Dinner was fun, the four of them at the table, laughing and joking. The time of year and what was about to happen was strictly off limits for discussion, as was the safety car that had fucked up Dan’s chance of points in the last race. Instead they talked about watching other teams do tyre testing, Kimi’s retirement party that the guest of honour had left after twenty minutes, the way teams had shaped up for the next season. 

“Yeah I’m surprised Haas kept Mazepin, but I guess money talks.” Blake gestured with his fork as he spoke, Em rolling her eyes.

“Just keep him away from me next year, ok? I…yeah. The rumours are bad enough. He creeps me out.”

“Did he do anything?” Dan put his cutlery down and looked at her, Em shaking her head immediately.

“He didn’t get the chance. But he knows exactly where to go to find certain people, he knows what to do. Nothing I can report and say is inappropriate, but enough that I can tell he knows he’s crossing the line. It fucking sucks. And I can’t prove it but he was spreading the worst of the rumours over the summer.” She twirled spaghetti around her fork, eating it before she could say anything else. Spending time with Mick trying to badly teach her German generally meant Mazepin was around and she hated that.

“If anything happens.” An eyebrow raise told her the rest.

“I know what to do.” She took the chance to run her foot along his calf, making sure he could feel how calm she was. She wasn’t ruining the last part of her day with her boys with crap.

The drive to the airport was fine. Two cars had been ordered because of the law that she wasn’t supposed to be in a car with any of the boys, but instead of her slipping into one of the SUVs alone Dan got in opposite her. The driver was discrete and kept quiet, Em and Dan holding hands for the entire drive to Dubai. The hour passed too quickly, and they arrived ready to go in the dark night.

Check in and security was quick, Em picking up a few things in the duty free shopping. Once they were ready the four of them went to the Emirates lounge, settling into a corner. Mike and Blake took the outer seats so she and Dan could be beside each other, a glass of champagne for everyone on the low table between them.

She couldn’t stop the tears from flowing now, the clock past midnight and the realisation she was saying goodbye to them. Her fingers were linked with Dan’s and they were silent, three occasional squeezes the only form of communication between them. She could tell when Blake and Mike noticed what was happening, their nudges between each other. Em held her breath, but then Dan realised what was happening and pulled her in.

“We can’t,” Em gasped out, worried about what would happen if anyone saw.

“I don’t care. Emmy, you need some comfort. This isn’t…fuck. Fuck it all. I’m done. I’m going up and changing my flight, I’m going to London. How the hell am I supposed to leave you like this? I don’t want you to be alone.”

“You can’t.”

“Watch me.”

“Danny, you can’t.” She looked up at him and made him stare at her, fixing his gaze with her own. “You haven’t seen your family in more than eighteen months. You’ve got your hotel quarantine ready to go. They’re holding Christmas dinner until you’re out of quarantine and can see them all. You have to go.”

“I don’t want you to be alone.” He squeezed her hand three times but she could see his resolve breaking. 

“I’ll be ok. We’ll FaceTime every couple of days. But look here.” She lit her phone screen, showing him the photo of her, Isaac, and Isabella from Christmas 2019 when the kids were so much smaller and a pandemic was barely a thought. “Those kids are so excited to see their uncle Dan again. You have a full suitcase of presents waiting to be loaded. Grace is dying to hug her boy and she and Joe just want to congratulate you for Monza. You have to go.”

When Dan pulled her into a hug she knew she’d won, and the two of them stayed curled up in a chair like that together. Mike and Blake moved chairs so nobody could see them as a just in case, but Dan held her and Em breathed in his scent deeply. Fifty one days. She could do this. 

“Passengers for Emirates flight EK 420 to Perth, First Class is boarding shortly. Please proceed to the boarding gate for transport to your plane.”

She went to stand at the announcement but Dan didn’t let her go, squeezing her tight. 

“Another minute. Please?”

“Ok.”

They got another three before Blake shook Dan’s shoulder to get them to move. 

“Mate, we have to go. C’mon.”

Em forced an all too fake smile on her face as she hugged her boys, Michael holding her close for a moment. 

“Look after yourself,” she murmured, watching as he nodded seriously. 

“And I’ll look after him for you, Wiggle. I’ll email you those new video ideas and we can see what works?”

“Perfect.”

Hugging Blake was the same, arms wrapped around her as he pushed a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Wish you were coming back with us. If we could…”

“It’s not your fault. Blame Australia. Gonna miss you Blakey.”

“Miss you too Ems.”

Dan was the final one to grab her and she didn’t want to let go. He pushed the quickest kiss to her lips as he hugged her, Em wanting to deepen it but knowing she couldn’t. 

“I’ll change to the London flight. I’ll do it now.”

“And then your family will hate me. I’ll see you soon. You know, right?”

“I know. Y’know, right?”

She kissed his cheek before letting go, stepping back to give distance between them all. 

“Go get your flight. I’ll text when I land in London, please let me know when you get into Perth. Good luck with the quarantine.”

She waved as they walked away, tears streaming down her cheeks. Ever since they’d been locked down on the farm she’d spent every single day with at least Dan, if not Blake and Mike right there beside her. But now she was facing fifty one days alone and all Em could do until they announced her flight was cry.

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[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter forty four

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

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december 25, 2018 los angeles, california orion

The past month has been uneventful. It’s just been lots of days at my moms’ house with family. Calum essentially never leaves my side, which is both good and bad. He hasn’t seen the band since he’d seen them on tour, but then again, he’s not even speaking to Ashton or Michael. 

Emelia and Macy still come to hang around with us, but they’re no longer taking shifts like they were since Calum is back in the picture. I’m glad, not because I don’t want to spend time with them, but because I want them to keep living their lives, not hinged upon what’s happening in mine. 

I’m grateful that, for the holidays, just like we had talked about before everything went to shit, his family has flown in from Australia. We’ve spent this whole week at the LA apartment to get things ready for everyone to be in town, and I’m actually excited about it. I can’t remember the last time I was excited for something. 

It feels weird to be back in our apartment after everything, but it does still feel like home. I also love getting to see Duke again. 

Just like on Thanksgiving, Eri is our alarm clock and he wakes everyone up by screaming that Santa came overnight. He’s all knees and elbows and Calum and I are all moans and groans when he tackles us in bed.

“Go sort the presents, buddy, we’ll be out in a minute,” I say with a groggy, sleepy voice. 

Eri disappears as quickly as he’d appeared, and Calum tightens his grip on me as the room falls silent once more. 

“Do we have to?” He groans. 

“Do you not remember being his age at Christmas? We have to get up.” 

Calum groans, pressing his lips to my neck. I squirm, ticklish and still tired, and Cal just holds me tighter while he laughs. It’s one of the best feelings in the entire world.

“I already got all I wanted for Christmas,” he whispers, kissing my neck again. 

I turn around to meet his lips with mine. “And what would that be?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes, pinching my waist. “Just this little weirdo named Orion.” 

“She must be pretty cool.”

“Nah, not really, she’s honestly kind of annoying.” 

“Sounds like you should send her back to Santa.”

Calum smiles. “She’s stuck with me, annoying nature and all.” 

I roll my eyes at him before I start trying to wriggle my way out of the bed, but he holds onto me tightly. “C’mon, we gotta go. I’m sure everyone else is already out there.” 

I manage to convince Calum to get up, bribing him with the promise of us taking a nap together later. We’re dressed in matching red plaid pajamas, and so is the everyone else in our living room. Our combined families are excited for us in the living room when we finally make an appearance.

“Merry Christmas!” I say to the room of people I love, all of them clad in the pajamas. It makes my heart happy. I love giving gifts and forcing my favorite people to spend time together. 

“Good morning,” Mali says, the first one to get up to greet us. She hugs me and then her brother while I walk over to the couch to hug Calum’s parents and mine. 

“Hi love,” Joy says, kissing my cheek. 

“Merry Christmas, sweetie,” Mama says. 

“Merry Christmas, sissy!” Eri all but screams, running over and latching himself to my leg. 

“Hi bud, let go so I can make everyone coffee,” I say, trying to move my leg to get him to let go. 

“No Merry Christmas for me, Eri? I thought I was your favorite!” Calum says, distracting my brother easily. Eri frees my leg and runs over to Calum, who squats down so he can pick Eri up in a hug.

“Does anyone have any special orders this morning or do you want what I made everyone yesterday?” 

“I’m fine with whatever,” Mali calls after me while I walk to the kitchen. I’m met with a chorus of similar replies and take my place by the espresso machine and turn it on, ready to make coffee for the whole crew of people in the living room. 

Mali is sweet enough to run everyone’s cup to them so I can stay in the kitchen, brewing, steaming, frothing, and mixing. I spike a few of them with whiskey and Bailey’s, since it’s a special occasion, but for the most part everyone gets a fairly simple latte. Mali always lets me have free reign over hers, so I get creative with hers and mine. I make Eri a hot chocolate so he’s not left out, and once everyone is caffeinated, Eri sits right by the tree, poised to open the biggest box that’s addressed to him. 

All of us collectively wait to open our presents, instead watching the magic of Christmas dawn over Eri. Being a kid on Christmas is an experience that I think we all miss, and observing a six year old unwrapping Santa’s gifts is something we all enjoy. 

After Eri has unwrapped all of his gifts, Calum sets him up with his new Nintendo Switch that Calum bought for him — despite my protests against spending so much on him — so he’s occupied while the adults do a much less energetic exchange of gifts. I had to beg everyone not to buy me any presents, so they all settled for getting me grocery gift cards or donations to charities I care about. 

For Joy and both of my moms I’d gotten them massage gift certificates. Joy’s is at a salon in the part of Sydney where they live to make it easier for her to get it done when she’d like. It’s also not something that won’t fit in her luggage on the flight home. I got Mali a sweater and a fancy lip balm from Sephora. I got David a nice hoodie from his favorite football team since the only other one I’ve ever seen him wear is practically all holes and frayed edges. 

I got Calum a gift certificate for his favorite tattoo artist in LA, which he’s been meaning to book an appointment with for a while. I scheduled him a tentative date that he can move if he needs, but the artist books out months in advance. I also framed a picture that we’d taken a few weeks ago at the beach with the sunset in the back, along with the oldest sunset picture of the two of us I could find. It was back in Stockholm two years ago and Ashton was the camera man. The two matching frames are antiques I’d found made of a beautiful mahogany that shows beautifully detailed wood grain. 

After we’ve opened everything, I feel a bit disheartened. Everyone had given me a printed screenshot of their donation receipts that they’d made to an animal shelter in my honor. Everyone except for Calum. 

“Cal, are you not gonna show her her gift?” Mali asks, doing the math by looking at the papers in front of me. I got three. One from her, one from Joy and David, and one from my moms. 

Calum coughs, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry, babe, I didn’t really know how to… give it to you? So I figured I’d just free ball it this morning.”

Oh god. Oh god. What did he get me?

My immediate thought is a proposal. I always thought he’d propose eventually, up until the cancer diagnosis. We’d discussed our ideal engagement, what kind of ring I wanted, what our wedding would be like, so I know he knows what I’d want. Not only is this not what we’d discussed — a private moment for just the two of us, the only other person there would be a photographer — but I thought he knew I didn’t want him to propose anymore. 

We’d planned on starting the marriage process in a few years, once I was out of law school. It wasn’t supposed to be this soon, and now I feel weird about the idea that he’s proposing just because I’m dying. I don’t want him to be a widower at 23 or 24. That’s not a title I want to give him, even if I’d selfishly like him to be my husband. 

I pray that he knows me well enough not to propose on Christmas morning with our families in the room, no photographers in sight, and under such unfortunate circumstances. 

Calum stands up in the middle of the mess everyone has made with wrapping paper, right next to our Christmas tree. I look at his pockets and try to see if there’s a ring box shaped thing in any of them. 

“Orion, I know how much your education meant to you, but especially your time studying abroad. I also know your whole career was going to be dedicated to helping immigrants get their footing legally in this country.”

I just nod, now completely unaware of where this is going. 

“I’m working with UCLA to establish some scholarships in your honor,” Calum finally explains. 

My eyebrows raise. He’s what?

“One of them will be to support first generation immigrant students, and the other will be to give students who ordinarily wouldn’t be able to study abroad the chance to do so.” 

As it sets in, tears well up in my eyes quickly, and I’m standing up to throw my body against his. He’s always said that I have the biggest heart in the world, but now I know there’s no way that could be true. Calum has the biggest heart in the whole world. The news is so good and unbelievable I don’t even know what to say.

It was kind and something only he would think of doing. But it’s perfect. I’m grateful that some form of good will be left in this world in my honor. It’s because of Calum, and I don’t know how he’s able to know me so much better than I know myself, and he’s able to be so generous. 

“I don’t even know what to say, Cal,” I whisper to him. 

“In a good way, I hope?”

I nod. This means so much to me. I can’t even begin to explain it to him. 

“Thank you. It’s a better gift than I could ever imagine.” 

Calum and I stay in an embrace for a few moments and I forget that we have an audience until Mali speaks again.

“We all also chipped in on something else,” she says.

I step back from Calum but leave an arm around him while I turn to face everyone else in the room. They’re all smiling knowingly, apparently having a secret amongst everyone except for me. 

“Guys, no, you’ve already given me so much. It means so much just to have you all here right now!” 

Joy grins before she spills the beans. 

“You’re going back to Spain!” 

She whips a piece of paper out of her pocket and hands it over to me. It’s two tickets to Madrid for the week of Calum’s birthday in January. 

I stare down at the paper and the letters and again start crying.

“Everyone chipped in. The boys, Em, the Lavapies girls, and all of us,” Calum clarifies. He looks so happy right now. “We all know you’ve been dying to go back and just wanted to make sure you could.” 

I look up at Calum, who wipes the tears from my cheeks with his thumbs. “But you’re not even speaking to Ash or Michael?” 

He shrugs. “I just made a group chat for everybody who loves you and said to chip in as much as they’d like. I didn’t talk to anyone specifically about it except for Paula, who helped me find a hotel and stuff.” 

My heart swells. This year has sucked, and celebrating the holidays has been so bittersweet. I can’t imagine a better gift to have received, and I am so lucky to have someone like Calum pulling all these strings for me. I don’t know if I have ever felt as loved as I do today, surrounded by people I love and in the wake of receiving the best gifts I could ever receive, drinking a delicious coffee and standing a room full of gifts and laughter. 

I don’t know if I can say it, given the circumstances, but I think it might be the best Christmas ever. 

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[killalluchihas]

good vibes/bad juju - 58

While on a mission overseas, Gojo gets K-O'd by an unknown person. Within a week, every sorcerer in Japan has heard about it. (A JJK OC story - Rated M, Graphic Violence)

[Chapter One] [Ao3 link] [Previous] [Next]

–/–/–/–

chapter fifty-eight: opening moves Wendy is kind of miserable

10 September 2018 Tokyo Jujutsu Tech

The two of them relocate to Gojo’s living room, settling on a plush leather couch that must be twice the size of the one in Yoshi’s quarters. Even though the couch is large enough for Gojo to lay flat on, long legs and all, he doesn’t sit very far from her. In fact, their knees brush against each other as he twists around to face her.

She took off his glasses earlier, and now she regrets leaving them in the kitchen. Gojo’s eyes really are uncanny—undeniably beautiful, yes, but the blues that make up his irises are unnatural too. Yoshi wants to stare and stare, but she also feels completely exposed when he looks at her.

“There’s a lot to explain,” she says suddenly, her gaze wandering away from his. She looks at his hair instead, then his throat, then her own hands in her lap.

Yoshi feels off. It’s because they kissed, and it was good, even though she’s desperately trying to forget it happened.

“I figured it would be a long explanation,” Gojo says lazily, reclining against the cushions. “That’s okay. I like it when you lecture, Sensei.”

Her mouth almost curls into a smile, but she resists. “I, uh, might as well give you a history lesson, then,” she says, hating her own hesitant tone. Gojo doesn’t seem to notice it. In fact, he’s smiling again, and Yoshi hears her heart thudding in her chest.

“Go on, then,” he coaxes her.

She just hopes this doesn’t ruin everything. Taking a deep breath, she says, “In the golden age of sorcery, there were those that could see the future. Or feel it. Hear it. Dream it…”

“Depends on the technique,” Gojo murmurs, looking curious. “There used to be a sorcerer like that in my clan, long ago. A seer.”

She nods. “This situation with the barrier sorcerer, it started with a seer.”

—/—/—

12 February 1996 East Village, Manhattan

There is a shift in the air that everyone can feel, but only a few are able to put a name to it. Most blame it on a cold front moving in last night, a chill creeping over the winter sky and permeating through walls and fabric and flesh until it reaches bone. But it’s more than just bad weather.

Some happened last night, something great enough to ripple through the earth and air and touch thousands of lives.

A meeting has been called among the sorcery council’s leaders. They’re knowns as the Ten Heads, though only six regularly meet and the rest cling to the title in name alone. It’s enough to get the job done, so anyone that grumbles about the name and the hierarchy and the inefficiencies of the Ten Heads does so under their breath.

It’s too sudden for all of the heads to convene at once, especially the ones that haven’t stepped foot in the council’s headquarters in years. They aren’t prepared.

Omar is prepared, though. He’s been anticipating this day.

He looks out of place in the conference room, his brimmed hat stained and his tweed jacket fraying at the edges, and yet he has a seat today. His family is known to the Ten, though no member has held the title in forty-something years. They used to have the council’s ear, back when they still had use of their most infamous cursed technique. But that power dwindled out of reach over the decades, whittled down to the version that Omar holds now.

It’s still a powerful technique, if you ask Omar. But no one asks anymore.

Even now, most of them look annoyed as Omar opens up his case and sets up an old, well-loved board. The pieces were lovingly carved from soapstone, artwork from his gifted grandmother, and Omar calmly names them as he places them on the squares of the board.

“You can skip this part, Mr. Newman, we know how to play chess,” someone interrupts.

Omar nods, and continues to place his pawns. “Ah, it’s just a habit of mine. And there’s no harm in a refreshing your memory.”

“Do you know what’s happening or not?” someone asks. “Your forecasts aren’t that accurate. We haven’t had a proper seer in New York for decades.”

He pauses for a long moment, looking at each member seriously. “Do you have an alternative?” he asks, a quiet gleam in his eye.

An older woman purses her wrinkled lips, hands clasped in front of her on the table. “The wards around the city are failing, it’s just a matter of time before we’re attacked and overrun with curses,” she says to the others. “We need answers.”

No one disagrees with her. “Go on, Mr. Newman.”

And that’s all the consent that he needs. Nothing changes, not noticeably, but the doors to the conference room seal themselves off. The council heads fidget in their seats, but no one dares to get up from the table. If they tried, they’d forfeit the game.

Omar Newman looks over the chess board and moves one of the white pawns forward. “You should know that not every move is meant as an attack,” he muses, “Sometimes, it’s just an opening.”

—/—/—

Yoshi picks at a loose string on her dress, gathering her words. A pale hand drops over hers, ungraceful and abrupt.

“Why is this so hard for you to talk about?” Gojo asks, and then pauses to yawn widely.

He presses one cheek onto the leather couch cushion behind him, squashing the side of his face. His eyes droop. Yoshi wonders what time it is, but catches herself before she tries to check a watch that isn’t there. She left his fancy one in the kitchen.

Yoshi shakes her head. “I’ve never had to explain it before.” Or rather, justify it to someone like Gojo. Someone that might tell her to stop. Someone that could make her stop.

She wishes Wendy was here to do the talking.

“I might miss some details,” she admits. “But I know there was a seer, and that he was loyal to that barrier sorcerer. A lot of people were loyal to them, because of the protection they gave.”

Though she chose her phrasing carefully, Gojo sees through it. “This is during the Heian period… Tengen—this is when the barrier sorcerer was worshipped as a god,” he clarifies. His voice goes oddly flat as he adds, “I’m familiar with their cult.”

“Well, this seer made a binding vow with the barrier sorcerer. I know it happened because that cult still exists, and they believe they were promised a powerful vessel. And the barrier sorcerer knows it too, because he promised to merge when the time came.”

“But it had to be that vessel, the strongest one,” Gojo interjects, looking rather solemn. “It had to be you, or Tengen’s worshippers wouldn’t allow the merger to happen at all…They would rather have him keep evolving.”

Yoshi pauses to examine his expression. He does know about this, at least in part. “You’re missing the point, Gojo,” she tells him seriously. “The worshippers didn’t make a vow. Tengen is the one in breach of contract. He knew the prophecy and his part in it, he probably felt when it came to pass. So on the 11th of February, 1996, a jujutsu sorcerer was sent to New York.”

“Your birthday,” Gojo says unnecessarily. He tilts his head. “I guess Mariko had some things to say about that.”

—/—/—

12 February 1996 Jamaica, Queens

Two women sit in a hospital room. It’s a shared room, so they’ve drawn a privacy curtain halfway around the bed, and whisper their conversation so they don’t wake up the patients.

“Any more anchors I can help with?”

The woman’s voice is airy and untroubled, like she’s offering to run an errand on her way out.

It grates on Mariko’s mind, that she could be so carefree. That she can act so detached, while Mariko’s whole life has been uprooted. The worst part is that she’s beholden to this woman now, this jujutsu sorcerer, after spending years trying to forget sorcery even exists.

But she can swallow bitter pills. “I need more time to create them, first,” Mariko says.

“Hmm.” The woman rests her weight forward, elbows braces against her knees as she looks at the hospital bed in front of them. “You’ll have to install those yourself, I need to leave soon.”

Mariko’s hands twitch, so she curls them into fists in her lap. “Have we concealed it enough? The council won’t find—?”

“Oh, I’ve got a friend on your council,” the woman’s mouth curls into a smirk. “Newman is a good man. He’s gotten them to settle down. You’re in luck, Mariko-chan. The Americans were never informed of this prophecy, so they don’t recognize the signs. Eventually you’ll want to make contact, but that can wait.”

But Mariko is stuck on just one word. Luck. The very thought of it makes her stomach churn. She’s never been a very lucky person. Things don’t just work out in her favor, not without effort. And she isn’t naive enough to think that this sorcerer is helping out of the kindness of her heart.

“What were you really sent here to do?” Mariko asks her steadily. “This prophecy told you how to find us, but what happens next?”

The woman offers her a sheepish smile. “Well, it’s a funny thing. My mission was to locate and destroy a massive threat to jujutsu society. Instead there’s a squirmy, pink sorcerer with a whole lot of power. So I’m beginning to wonder if there’s other things I haven’t been told.”

“You were sent to kill her. An infant.”

Mariko wonders why she’s surprised. When have jujutsu sorcerers ever cared for the wellbeing of children?

The sorcerer shrugs. “That hardly matters now that she’s hidden properly. What’s important is finding out what exactly this prophecy said, because clearly something was lost in translation.”

The curtain is pushed aside, silencing Mariko’s next words. Her husband stares back at her, affection written over his face. “Everything okay, querida?”

She nods back. Closes her eyes as he stands behind her chair and kisses the top of her head. He mutters against her black hair, “Reina is looking better. She was crying because they took her blood, though. Yo también quería llorar,” he laments.

Mariko pats his hand. “Kawaisō ni,” she says, amused. “You are worse than Danica.”

He glances at the sleeping girl on the cot. “We’ll need to wake her soon, or Wendy will do it for us,” he warns.

The jujutsu sorcerer rises to her full height, towering over them as she stretches. “I’d better go. I have places to be, paperwork to forge...”

He chuckles. “Back to Tokyo, then? Do you miss home?”

“Oh, not really. I’ll stop by Tokyo, sure, but then I’m off to Hong Kong… then Mumbai, I think…”

He gives her a smile, though he’s a little puzzled. “What is it that you do again, Yuki?”

She winks, tossing blonde hair over her shoulder. “A bit of everything. It keeps me busy, but I’ll be back here soon enough.”

—/—/—

10 September 2018 Greenwich Village, Manhattan

The weather takes a turn by the time they exit the subway. The air is colder, and the clouds overhead cast a gloom over the streets. Wendy has three more books on her list to read.

“Hold up,” Isaiah says suddenly, while they wait at a crosswalk. “Wasn’t my painting at your place?”

She casts him a bemused look. “Well, yeah. It was on the wall when the place got lit up.”

His jaw drops. “And someone still got in?”

Wendy gives him a sympathetic smile. Isaiah’s cursed technique is suited for protection and concealment, and his paintings are highly valued for it. He’s not inclined towards curse exorcisms, which is why he was annoyed about being sent to Arizona for one. It ended up working out, of course, but Isaiah still holds a grudge over it.

“It was a Zenin, from one of the Japanese clans,” she explains.

Isaiah lets out a noise of disgust. “Of course it was a clansman. You’d think they’d die out by now. It’s 2018 and we still have clansmen…” He’s obviously talking about more than the jujutsu clans of Japan, so Wendy lets him rant. “Since when do they care about Yoshi, anyway?”

She sighs. “She picked a fight with Gojo Satoru last month.” He pulls a sour face at that name, like most sorcerers do. “Everyone heard about it. It’s been downhill since then.”

“Yeah, I bet the Japanese council wants to execute her, they’re so dramatic,” Isaiah muses as they cross the street. “Is that what you need advice about?”

“No,” she replies, sticking close to his side as they navigate the busy sidewalk. “It’s about the mission she’s on.”

“Talkin’ about your mission or something she’s been assigned?”

She can feel Isaiah’s eyes on her now, and Wendy deliberately avoids his gaze. She doesn’t want Isaiah to get too interested in this, even though she needs his help. He only has a surface-level understanding of what Yoshi does, but he’s a clever guy. He knows what questions to ask, unlike most people.

“She’s been crossing paths with curse users,” Wendy says. “That’s the main concern.”

Isaiah looks at her uncertainly. “You mean like Quinn, or like, that creep who eats other people’s teeth? There’s a lot of nuance to that title, for years I’ve been sayin’ that we need to categorize ‘em differently,” he remarks.

“You’re right and that’s the problem, I don’t know what sort of curse users we’re dealing with,” Wendy says. She looks past him, towards the greenery they’re approaching. “He’s in there?” she asks, surprise coloring her words.

Isaiah scoffs. “Of course he is.”

“It just… seems too obvious,” she chuckles.

“Uncle Omar likes his routines. But!” Isaiah puts an arm out in front of Wendy before she can cross the threshold into Washington Square Park. “You gotta be prepared. He doesn’t play with a time limit. Have you eaten today?”

Eaten? Wendy scratches her head in thought.

“Uh. I had coffee, and a cheese danish… half of it,” she admits, feeling sheepish when Isaiah gives her another disdainful look. “I don’t really eat a lot for breakfast!”

“Yeah, sure,” he says sarcastically. “You’ll just say it’s the most important meal of the day, then you chug twelve ounces of coffee on an empty stomach and wonder why you feel like crap all the time. Come on, I’ll buy your sorry ass a sandwich.”

—/—/—

Yoshi leans back into the corner of Gojo’s couch, folding her arms. “I think you know that sorcerer, the one that was sent to New York. I have her contact information on my old phone if you need it, but I left that back at my apartment.” She glances at Gojo to assess his reaction, only to find his expression completely slack.

Not in shock or disbelief, no. He’s fucking asleep.

“Hey,” she says loudly, but gets no response. She shakes his arm until he stirs and groans.

“Yes, I’m listening,” Gojo insists. His eyes are still closed.

“What was the last thing I said?” Yoshi demands.

His face scrunches up, and he presses it into the couch cushion. Voice muffled, he replies, “You said… Tengen is evil. We’ll jus’ kill ‘em tomorrow.”

“No,” she cries, alarmed. “That wouldn’t solve anything!”

“But that’s why you’re here,” he protests, turning enough to open one eye. “He broke a vow, so you’ll… uh… but you shouldn’t merge, I think you’ll… turn into a thumb.”

Dumbfounded, she stares at him. Gojo’s eyes close again.

“You’re the one that wanted to talk about this,” Yoshi says aloud, to no reply. She reaches over to shake his leg this time. “Gojo, look at me.”

He lets out a low whine, blindly grabbing to stop her shaking. “I got it, don’t worry,” he says, clasping her hand firmly. “I understand.”

“Stop saying that,” she sighs. “Just sleep this off, and I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Yeah…” he agrees, drawing out the word.

Yoshi considers trying to get him onto a bed, or at least have him lay down on the couch properly. But Gojo is a grown man, she doesn’t need to coddle him. Even if he’s drunk and sort of vulnerable right now, and probably still incapable of using his technique—

No, he’ll be fine. No one knows his technique is off besides her.

She gets up from the couch, wiggling her hand out of his grip.

This, apparently, is what it takes to rouse him. Gojo inhales a deep breath and straightens up, blinking rapidly. “What? Are we going now?” He rolls his shoulders back, stretching. “Can’t we do it after we, uh, the baseball game?”

Just her luck, he’s completely incoherent. “We’re not doing anything,” Yoshi says sternly. “You need to be sober for this, so I’ll come back tomorrow to talk.”

He shakes his head mulishly, stretching out his arms now. “Don’t say that, that—“ He pauses to yawn. “That sounds like ya wanna break up. We didn’t even kiss, I mean we did, but you know… Yeah,” Gojo says plaintively, flopping onto the couch. “I’m tired.”

Yoshi sighs again. “Me too. I’m going to bed.”

“Where’re you going? It’s that way,” Gojo calls out as she moves to the front door. He’s pointing down his hallway.

“I’m going to my bed.” She stares back at him critically. He is not asking her to stay the night in his apartment.

Languidly, Gojo rolls himself fully onto his couch, legs stretching out across it. “Well, I’ll have to, hmm, kill you if you leave,” he points out, in the same tone of voice someone would use to comment on the weather. “Heh. You said treason-things.”

“No I didn’t,” Yoshi says, bemused.

“Yeah you did, you wanna… kill the thumb-head sorcerer.” Gojo seems to believe the barrier sorcerer looks like a thumb.

“You want to do that. I have other plans.”

“Well, you know…” Gojo trails off.

He doesn’t say anything more. Yoshi watches his chest begin to rise and fall in a slow rhythm. She scrubs at her face, exhausted and completely forgetting that she has makeup on. Then she stalks off in the direction of Gojo’s bedroom. She comes back with a pillow, and slides it under his head with far more care than he’ll ever notice. He’s fully clothed, so she doesn’t get him a blanket.

“I’ll come back in the morning,” Yoshi promises quietly.

—/—/—

Fed and watered by Isaiah, Wendy steps into Washington Square Park and looks for the chess tables. Mr. Newman isn’t hard to spot. He’s wearing a brown tweed jacket just like Isaiah said he would. He also resembles his nephew—the same broad nose and downturned eyes, everything except for his hair, which is gray and short while Isaiah wears braids. He looks right at home among the chess hustlers of the park.

Mr. Newman’s opponent gets up and leaves just as Wendy comes close enough to greet him.

He sits back in his chair with a pleased smile on his weathered face. His voice is soft and raspy as he asks, “Are you here for a game, Ms. Matherson?”

She’s sure that Isaiah hasn’t said a word to his uncle about her. “I am, Mr. Newman. But I need help. I’m not very good at it.”

“Oh, that’s alright. I love to teach. But in the end, it’s down to you and your decisions, if you want to win.”

“I know.” She takes a seat. “I just need some guidance. I can’t see the full picture. The whole board, I guess.”

Mr. Newman hums, plucking the pieces off the table and shaking them in one hand. “Well, let’s start by going over the players. Our most valuable piece is our king. He can move one square in any direction, which isn’t much. His value is in his mere existence on the board, not his power to move around. You must protect him, or you lose.” He gives her a pointed look. “But you know that, don’t you?”

Wendy chews on her lip. “Right. But it goes the other way, too. You win by going after the other king.”

“No. You win by forcing him out, exposing him to your forces.” He sets out more pieces, explaining how they move. Black pieces in front of Wendy, and white in front of Mr. Newman. “White always goes first,” he says.

“Really?” Wendy had been about to move a pawn. “So I’m a step behind?”

“Nah, it just means you didn’t make the first move.” He moves his pawn. “You didn’t instigate. Doesn’t mean you can’t win.”

“Oh. I always thought we’d provoked someone, actually,” she admits. “I thought it might be Tengen, at first, because of the failed merger.” Wendy moves her pawn out two spaces, to give her bishop space to move next. “But this whole thing seems like it’s been in the works for years and years.”

“Is that right? Well,” Mr. Newman continues casually, “There’s more than one way to play chess.”

She looks at him blankly. “What?”

He shrugs. “There’s variants. A seasoned player, like me, might switch things up. Lemme show you,” he decides gleefully, swiping up his pieces at once. “I like Fischer’s Chess. You place your pieces at random. Let’s put our knights in the corner. Go on now, put yours across from mine.”

Wendy follows his lead in placing her pieces. “If we play like this, I really won’t know what to do next,” she comments.

“Ah, but your opponent’s in the same boat. Even a seasoned opponent can’t fall back on old habits with the board all mixed up. I think this is more your style, Ms. Matherson. I think this is how the game is going.”

“That’s… good?” Wendy says, not totally convinced. She moves a bishop across the board, aiming to threaten his knight. “But I still need to expose the king. I don’t know how to get him out.”

“Well, you’ll have to sacrifice some pieces—”

“I know, but,” Wendy says in a rush, moving a pawn to protect her queen. “But if I do it the wrong way, I might lose a piece for nothing.”

“That’s why you have to develop your other pieces,” he says easily, scratching at the grey stubble on his chin. “So they’re in a position to assist even if you lose control of the center. Or, in this case we’re all bunched up on the left…”

They make a few more moves, but Wendy can tell this game will be over soon once she loses her second rook. “I don’t like this version very much,” she admits. “It’s confusing.”

Mr. Newman chuckles, flashing crooked teeth at her. “You’re not as bad as you think. I can’t anticipate your moves when the pieces start out like this.”

“I’d appreciate it more if you could predict other people’s moves for me,” she says miserably.

“Now, that’s not what I’m here to do. You said you wanted to see the whole board,” he reminds her. “But maybe that’s wrong, huh? Maybe you’re just used to seeing the whole board, but it’s not possible this time.”

Wendy’s brow furrows in concern. She taps her foot on the floor as she thinks, and feels her anklet sliding against her skin. “But Mr. Newman, there is a chance for me to find out more. I can feel it. There’s something in Morioka, or someone, that can give me a clue.”

“You see an opening.” He begins rearranging the board again, playing both sides until the situation on the board reflects his words. Sort of. “Sometimes those are traps. Make a move, but only if you’re prepared to lose something in the process.”

Again, she’s supposed to sacrifice a piece. She huffs. This would be much easier if Mr. Newman could predict the future without cryptic chess terminology.

“Right, I have to prepare,” Wendy massages at her temple. “Prepare, by… developing my other pieces first? Jeez.” She leans back with a groan. “I can’t! No one can back me up. Nanami would just get in my way, Yuki isn’t even answering my calls. Oh, and stupid Miguel. He attacked Japan last year, I don’t know why he thought that would work out. And Yoshi—!”

Wendy looks at the queen on the chessboard. The most dynamic piece, the strongest player on the field.

“Your opponent is wary of the queen,” Mr. Newman concludes. “They’ll retreat. Besides, you can’t rely on her for everything.”

She nods, biting the inside of her cheek. “What I feel about Morioka… that dread, that means it’s probably a trap. But if I go in with too much, they’ll just slip away. They did that in Osterby.”

“I hope you don’t expect me to know where Osterby is,” Mr. Newman comments idly.

“No, that’s not important.” She rests her chin in one hand as she studies the chessboard again. “But Morioka is in Japan… You said something earlier about controlling the center,” Wendy muses. “But it’s more complicated than that, because the real game is so spread out. I think. I mean, my king’s out of danger for now. I don’t know where my opponent’s king is. Most of the action’s in Japan. Either my opponent is tucked away like my king, or… no. They’re in the action. Because that’s where Yoshi is, and they need to get rid of her before she makes a move.”

The situation doesn’t totally work as a chess metaphor, but Wendy doesn’t care.

Mr. Newman sets up another normal game, and Wendy plays it out with him in silence.

He captures her pawn, and she takes one in return. “Are you sure you’re considering all the pieces as they are?” he asks suddenly.

Wendy frowns.

He raises his eyebrows. “You’re in the thick of it, Ms. Matherson. Consider the value of every piece.”

She stares at the board for a long moment.

“Oh, right,” Wendy says, feeling dumb.

She advances a pawn to the far end of the board and flips it upside down to indicate its changed status, promoting it to a queen. “I forgot about Gojo. He’s a huge threat, even if he isn’t in a position to help me. They need him gone, too.”

Folding her hands in her lap, Wendy stares at the board some more.

She thinks about the recent attack on Gojo’s school. Even though she doesn’t know all the details, she’s pretty sure the attack was a success in some way. They got something out of it, despite going up against Yoshi and Gojo. Not to mention, but they achieved something in Osterby too: they killed Andrea before Yoshi could get any information out of her. Yoshi’s careful about revealing her powers, but at this point, their opponent has adapted to both of them, avoiding direct confrontation.

“What are you thinking, Ms. Matherson?”

“I’m thinking that…this opponent knows we’re looking for the king. So when the king reveals himself, it’ll be for a trap,” she says thoughtfully. “A trap to get rid of the strongest player.”

“When, not if he’s revealed?”

“The king can’t hide forever.” Wendy feels certain of this. “We’re being set up for it. We need to suss him out before he moves.”

And she’s back to the problem of Morioka, and what she’s willing to sacrifice. Who else is on the board?

—/—/—/—

[Previous] [Next]

A/N: i am miserable alongside Wendy trying to make chess metaphors work. why did i choose this? i mean i know why, it’s because the chess hustlers of nyc are infamous and i wanted to include them. you should know that you can’t play for free, they’ll ask for a small donation if you want a lesson or a game. Anyway, I name-dropped a few more characters in this chapter! Yuki, a canon character you may recognize from the anime. Miguel, who is briefly features in the JJK 0 movie. And of course, Isaiah and Omar Newman, my sorcerer OCs from New York.

Some translations: querida - dear Yo también quería llorar - I also wanted to cry Kawaisō ni - Poor thing

[su8arandspite]

Babysitting Wars

Summary: Steve and Beth engage in a friendly competition for the title of best babysitter. Or, alternatively, the one where Steve uses a bet to his advantage.

steve harrington x female!oc

warnings and content: not much, fluff, short

A/N: this was something i wrote in 2018 so pls forgive me. but it's my birthday today so i am celebrating with a bit of stethany

word count: 1k

THE kids’ bikes raced in the direction of the arcade before Beth could even get a word in. With a heavy sigh, she set the cookie dough she’d been mixing down on the counter. Arms crossed over her chest, she whipped around to glare at the other teenager. 

“Steve!”

Steve shuddered under the intensity of her gaze, a sheepish grin working its way across his lips. This side of her, usually reserved for when one of the kids stepped out of line, shocked him. While just last week he’d sniggered at the sight of her chewing out Mike Wheeler for an off-handedly sexist comment, Steve found no humor in the look on her face when directed at him.

“What’re you doing?” she scolded. “You heard what Joyce said; they’re meant to stay here.”

“It’s just for an hour,” he offered.

When her expression remained unchanged, he lifted his palms in surrender.

“I’m a damn good babysitter!”

“You don’t know the first thing about babysitting,” she said, brows cocked. “I bet you probably let them watch whatever movie they want because you believed them when they told you that their ‘mom said it was okay.’” 

A giggled died in her throat at the guilty smile on his lips. 

“Oh, my god!” 

“Tell you what—why don’t we let those little shits—"

“Kids, Steve. They’re kids.”

“Yeah, Okay. Fine. Let the kids decide who’s the better babysitter.”

“Like a competition?”

“Yeah. If I win, you’re spending the entire weekend with me. No questions asked.”

“And if I win?”

“I’ll take you to see that Michael J. Fox movie for the 20th time, and I promise I won’t even tease you for drooling.”

“All right,” she smirked. “I’ll take that bet. Game on, Harrington.”

Beth’s competitive streak brought out a side of her Steve didn’t even know existed. While he figured she brought home all those cheerleading trophies for her team using more than that sweet smile of hers, he had no clue what he was really up against.

In a competition with no rules, Beth chose to get creative. 

As she leaned in closer, reminiscent of the day that had officially marked the start of their friendship, the pad of her thumb wiped at his cheek, erasing an imaginary stain. 

He gaped down at her, using whatever self-restraint he had left to keep from pulling her flush to him. Steve seemed to have trouble thinking of anything other than what her lips might taste like lately.

“Something a matter, Harrington?”

Feigning innocence, she chewed on her lower lip. Steve’s cheeks flushed a scarlet color, suddenly worried she could hear his thoughts.

“I-I, uh,” he cleared his throat. “Beth?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss y—“

“Steve,” a voice chastised from the hallway. “C’mon, man! That’s, like, the universal first rule of babysitting. ‘No boys,’ duh—"

“You mean girls, Dustin. I like girls”

“If you say so… Not my fault you’re the only male babysitter in existence. Beth-1, Steve-0.”

“Better luck next time, then?”

He didn’t need to catch the look on her face to see her triumph smirk as she slipped past him and into the living room.

After that, Steve decided to up his ante. He got his first point by convincing one of the girls on the cheer team to call Beth with some made-up conflict, knowing she would stay on the phone until she had it in her mind that everything was fine with who he’d heard her refer to in the past as ‘her girls.’

Ordinarily, her maternal approach to most things warmed his heart. He often thought she might make the perfect mother—a thought he kept to himself, of course. But he really, really wanted to use this as an excuse to take her out on a real date and he didn’t think he could win against her if he played it fair.

Dustin’s face lit up like Christmas morning at the news of their bet and even more so at the stakes. In hindsight, they should’ve known better than to assume any of those kids would play fairly. While Dustin promised Steve not to meddle in his relationship with Beth anymore, this game was the perfect loophole.

He freely tossed points around for made-up rules. 

Dustin wasn’t entirely sure how many of those points Steve deserved, but he knew Beth. He knew otherwise she would win, and they’d stay in the limbo between friends and lovers. Dustin thought he had it figured out- until the end of the week left them with an even score of 5 to 5, thanks to Will.

While Steve hadn’t been able to stand the sight of the pool in his backyard for the past year, he felt right at home with Beth by his side. Just her feet dangled in the water, which the heater could bring only to a lukewarm temperature in the December weather. 

“So,” she said. “Do we have to do both things now?”

Steve chuckled lightly.

“Maybe. But mine was better.”

“Yeah,” she rolled her eyes, stifling laughter. “If you say so.”

He held his hands up to his right ear in a mock-telephone, smirking:

“Hello, 911? I’d like to report a loser.”

“Steve, what are you even talking about? It was a tie!”

“Nah,” he pulled her closer. “Not really, ‘cuz I still won the girl.”

With one playful shove to the shoulder, she sent him splashing into the pool. Steve smiled through the salty taste of chlorine and dragged her by the ankle down after him.

As she resurfaced, Beth pushed her sopping hair from her eyes with a chuckle.

“For the record, Steve,” she said. “You could just ask me on a date next time.”

“There’s gonna be a next time?”

“Not if you aren’t careful, Harrington.”

Steve imagined he looked ridiculous standing in the shallow end of his pool, fully clothed and stuttering over his words. Beth couldn’t help but think she could get used to the sight.