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callmewrinkles3 · 9 months ago

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Castles Crumbling - DR3 x Fem!OC

Summary: There's just four races to go until Em never has to be near McLaren again, but her anxiety isn't getting any better. With fractures growing in their friendships and people in the media talking, how could it? Not even a gift from her husband could help.

Words: 15.5k

Warnings: The 2022 F1 season, COTA 2022, mental health issues (anxiety, depression, social anxiety, issues with food, one instance of accidental self injury), Zak Brown opening his mouth, hospitals, mentions of assumed domestic abuse, medical staff, smut.

AN: Remember us? Yeah it's been a while, we know. But we're back! Tumblr is a mess right now and with this we decided to make it worse. Please, please heed the warnings here. This is probably the lowest point Em gets to, and it's not a good place. It’s a hard, complicated one. If it's not something you feel comfortable reading, that's alright. Stay safe out there. See you around. 🫰🏻

October 2022

Em had no idea why she was so nervous the day they got to Texas. There was absolutely no reason to be, they'd had some time off and it had been lovely. Her anxiety kept going up and making her stress which was the last thing she wanted. She was tucked in under Dan's arm, their friends were there, and they were in one of her favourite places in the world. Even if when Dan asked her what she wanted to do on their days off she'd said nothing. She didn't have the energy to do it.

The cancelled Russian GP felt like a miracle, giving them a full three weeks off instead of a week in London and one in Sochi. It was an oasis after the triple header of Spa, Zandvoort, and Monza. As soon as Dan finished media after the Monza curse kicked in they left the circuit. Like the year before they were holding hands, but this time it was anger and misery. He'd been on for points. Good points. And then the car just died under him. Fuck McLaren.

They'd gone straight to their favourite pizza place, getting a smile from the staff when Em ordered in Italian. Even the Tifosi in the restaurant chilled around them. There were nods and smiles, Em returning them when she could. It was there to the hotel for some sleep, and the next morning they had quick goodbyes to everyone before renting a car and driving up to Lake Como.

It was normal for them to have a getaway in Italy after races. It started with the beach trip after their first night together in Monaco, and 2019 was the nights in Milan after two impossible feeling races. But finally, after a quarantine year that cancelled their plans and then Em having to cancel them when Dan won. But finally they got to spend their time together. Dan had promised her that even if he won they were still going.

But the car gave up, so instead they said goodbye to Blake and Micahel for three days away. Em adored them, but she'd spent so much time with them that they weren't her usual safe places. Things with Michael still felt awkward, and time apart just felt right. The three days were spent alone, actually getting to wear their rings while they tanned, ate pizza and pasta, and spent hours making love on any surface they could.

The best part of the three weeks off wasn't sunny Italy, it was going to Perth. Dan had to be at the MTC for two days for sim duty before the double header so they went back to London, but as soon as they could they were on the direct flight from London to Perth to see family. It had only been two months since they'd seen Joe and Grace, but they hadn't seen the rest of the family since the super quick trip they'd made to Perth after they got back together.

All they wanted to do was hug the kids and be home. They just wanted to be uncle Danny and auntie Emmy. Even thought it was winter it was warmer than Em was used to. It was healing being back at the farm. Silence at night, family arriving in the late morning or early afternoons, it was perfect. Either they went to see people or people came back to see them at the farm for a full two weeks.

It helped Em's anxiety lessen, as did the regular therapy sessions. They had one on a Monday evening while Em was in Perth, set for a time where no matter where in the world she was she'd be able to make it. On race weeks she had one on Thursdays too. Plus seeing the constant smile on Dan's face while he was home. That put a smile on hers. If anyone deserved to be happy it was her Danny, and Em would do anything in her power to make sure he was.

The fun days ended all too soon, hugging everyone goodbye and promising to see them in Abu Dhabi for Isaac's birthday before they went back into the swing of things. Singapore and the race wasn't bad, Dan finishing with 10 points. But Japan was awful. Lando barely in front but the team acting like he was on the podium, and the weather and recovery vehicles. Dan had talked to her about Jules once before, about losing one of his best friends as a result of those conditions on that track. Her heart was in her throat as she watched Dan go around and round. It was another weekend watching the man she loved be disappointed at a track he adored, but at least they got to spend a week in London before Texas.

Once they got on the plane to head to the US, Em could feel the nerves building in her. It was different from the - high grade if she was honest - anxiety that she usually had most days. This time there was a reason. Dan was showing her the house he bought them that she still hadn't seen in person.

It had started from 2019 when she was tipsy and half asleep and whispered it while dozing in his arms that Austin would be a nice place to live. Since then he'd been searching, revealing it to her when they were in Montreal. The original plan was an apartment with a balcony and natural light, but getting that in the delivery radius of their favourite barbecue place was nearly impossible. And then between the pandemic and everything it turned into wanting so much more than a one bedroom apartment. Plus hiding it from the woman who he spent almost every waking moment with felt impossible.

He'd signed the papers when she was in Liverpool, a desperate dream that maybe Em would come back to him.

Telling himself it was an investment and worth it even when he wasn’t fully sure it was. He knew in his heart he’d never rent it out but he had to try something. It was a total lie. But then he flew down to Texas before landing in Miami to sign for the house. The original plan had been to show her when she arrived in Miami. Dan’s sick hope that she’d turn up. But then she didn’t and he just kept hoping until she was finally there.

They’d said they’d stop off on the way to Montana, fly an extra few hours so Em could see it. But she was too fragile and exhausted and trying to put her pieces together. Then it was the summer break but the news about losing his job put the kibosh on that. So finally they were in Austin and couldn’t be disturbed and Em was about to see their home.

October had felt like it would be a lifetime away then. It would be autumn and starting to get cooler. But then she was there and they’d landed in Texas, gone through immigration and were in the rental car on the way to their brand new home.

It was scarier than moving into their apartment in London had been. London had been quick, necessity thanks to living in an Airbnb and needing to find somewhere to pick together. There’d been two weeks thanks to Dan between viewing it and getting the keys. But they’d viewed it holding hands, decided what room would be what.

This was different. Dan had picked it out entirely on his own, she’d had no idea. And she’d known about it for five months, desperately wanting to see more than the photos. If Em was honest she’d half thought the photos weren’t right, the oh so normal suburban home with a little garage attached. But as Dan put the car into park in their driveway it hit her. This was their home.

A lot of the time they had similar tastes. Food, music, and clothes were the big ones, they’d match in a lot of ways. When it came to TV and movies and podcasts they had differences, but unless it was one of his UFC podcasts she was usually happy to watch what he wanted, the same way he’d watch what she put on. One of the things they almost always agreed with - except for LA but Em wasn’t going to have a discussion about how ridiculous a full mansion for himself was - was where they lived and how they decorated. They always liked the same places and were interested in the same things when it came to a home. If there was something weird or one of them didn’t like it, the other generally didn’t either. It was how it worked when they’d found the apartment in London, they’d walked in holding hands and just knew.

It’s how Em knew Dan had to have done a good job when he chose somewhere in Austin. If he liked it, she’d like it, and when the car stopped she knew she was right. Her expectations were that it’d be an apartment in a high rise building, but it was in front of a house. A little country style 1960s house, like the stereotypical one you’d see. It was nothing like the ridiculousness in LA or the farm in Perth. It wasn’t even like the place in Italy Dan was looking at for them to have as a wedding present. It was so normal.

A one family home on a suburban Texan street. A couple of houses had lawn signs out, there were kids bikes on the street. It felt idyllic as Em looked at the pale brickwork and dark door. It felt like somewhere they could relax and just be.

“I know we said an apartment, but when I saw here it was perfect. It feels like us.” Dan held up a key on a cowboy hat keychain, the Longhorns orange logo visible.

“I’m not complaining at all, it looks cute. Time to go inside?”

They walked up to the front door holding hands as a smile spread across Em’s face. She wanted to stop and take it all in, but her excitement was too much. She could stand out in the front yard later, right now was for going inside. All she could do was look up at Dan and how peaceful he finally looked. It had been literal years for him and she couldn’t be more grateful that he’d kept holding out hope for them.

Opening the front door of somewhere new was always exciting and this was no different. She slipped the key in the slot and twisted to feel the lock disengage. Em went to push the door open but before she could Dan lifted her into his arms, nudging the door with his knee.

“Dan, what?!”

“Gotta carry the bride over the threshold, right? It’s my job.” She laughed at the grin on his face as he brought them inside, carefully depositing Em back on her feet in the living room so she could fully take it in.

The room was a blank canvas. Wooden floors with lots of windows and light, white walls just waiting for paint and decoration. Somehow he’d gotten a Welcome Home sign put up in front of the fireplace. It was cosy but had enough space for them and friends to be there. The work and effort Dan had put in was making her tear up before she’d even seen anything else. Then when she did turn around and saw the lavender door she actually did shed a tear.

The one thing she’d wanted in life was to paint her front door lavender. She’d seen photos of colourful seaside towns with different brightly painted doors and decided she wanted hers to be lavender. It wasn’t from Friends, as much as people might think. She’d never been a fan of that show really. But there was no possibility she could do it as a kid, and then in her rented apartments it was never going to happen. But Dan had promised her that he’d do it, and he had just for her. She turned to hug him and held onto him until she could get herself together for a moment.

“I told you we’d have it, it was just a matter of time. I know we can’t have the outside in London, but I thought the inside in Austin would work?”

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect. I love it. I love you, Danny.” His arms tightened as she said it, a kiss pushed against Em’s head.

“Love you too. Wait until you see everything else, I think you’ll love it.”

Dan held her hand as they moved through the rest of the house. The kitchen was gorgeous and sitting out on the counter was a set of orange Le Creuset pans that matched the purple set they had in London. It was like her perfect kitchen was right in front of her. The doors to the back garden were there, a deck leading down to grass and it was carefully enclosed. It was safe and beautiful. She wandered outside and looked at the wildflowers growing at the end of it.

She had no idea how she’d gotten so lucky. How did he love her even after everything? After everything she’d done, everything she’d nearly ruined? But Dan loved her with everything and he did all of this for her. It was a home, not just a house, and part of her hated that they wouldn’t really spend enough time of the year here. He’d given her everything, and she didn’t know what she’d do if she didn’t have him.

A quiet sob made her turn around in panic to see a smile on Dan’s face as tears streamed down his cheeks. Her arms wrapped around him, holding onto her husband as he cried. They were both too familiar with tears by this point, and her job was to hold onto him and love him and wait until he was able to speak. These were the overwhelming tears.

“I thought I might never see this place. Especially not with you. I was waiting until you were here to see it in person and I think I’d come to terms that it wasn’t going to happen.” The rawness of his words cut her deeply, Em kissing his jaw as a reminder she was here before she could speak.

“I’m right here, Baby. I’m here. And you’re here with me. We’re together.”

“I know. I know.” Dan kissed her so gently Em thought it could have been a dream until she opened her eyes and looked at him.

“Good…what do you mean you didn’t think you’d see it? You flew out to sign?” He squeezed her and Em knew no matter what he was about to say she was going to worry.

“I did. But I didn’t come here. I signed the contract and hired someone to keep an eye on it and do what I needed. But I couldn’t come here without you. It was for us.”

“You bought an entire house without seeing it?” The disbelief was clear in her voice. Her insane, brilliant, generous husband.

“It was a bad time, don’t judge me.” She never could. Not in a million years. “I wanted to do more things, y’know? I thought about changing the windows out for ones with bigger panels of glass so you have even more light to read, put some screens up so you can open them without bugs. Have some of the flowers out the front under the living room window. Maybe change the roof? The one there is fine but it’s gonna need replacing in a few years. Plus I wanna change the fireplace cause that’s original from the 70s when this was built and I don’t like the tiles. But not without you. Even looking at furniture to buy felt wrong. That’s what you do. You turn the places we live into homes without even thinking about it. Plus, I thought it could be like an anniversary present. Five years ago this week is when I met you for the first time.”

Em settled into Dan’s arms with her head pushed against his neck for an extra moment as she took in what he said. She’d so nearly blown their lives up in April - walked away without so much as a word. But even though she did that he loved her and still believed she’d come back somehow. How could she not be utterly in love with him? She didn’t deserve him but he loved her anyway.

“We turned them into homes. Us. Together. That’s what made them into homes, and it’s what’ll make this into one too. So thanks for waiting for me to do it.” It was a sweet kiss and wiping away the tear tracks from his cheeks as she smiled up at him. They’d turn it into one. She wouldn’t ruin yet another home for them. She couldn’t do that like she had with their first flat. “Show me everywhere else? Please? I wanna see our room.”

The rest of the house was just as perfect. A bathroom with a gloriously big bath for her and Dan to fit, two spare rooms, and finally the master bedroom. It wasn’t stupidly huge, but it was perfect. She could see all the flowers that Dan had gotten planted outside through the window. Em had no idea how he managed to get it done but he did and she’d be forever grateful for it. The other thing he did was get a proper mattress for each bedroom. It wasn’t a full bed yet, there weren’t even sheets, but she could actually lay down. As comfortable as the business class seats were, she just wanted to lie down and stretch. Her sneakers came off in a heartbeat and that was about as quickly as Dan was lying on top of her.

"You like it?" Dan whispered as if to not break a spell. His head was on her shoulder while his arms wrapped around her body to pull her as close as possible.

"The mattress? It's amazing, I wonder how I'm gonna get up again. The house is very nice too." She kissed his forehead while her smile grew even wider. "I love it. I really, really love it. It's absolutely perfect, Love. I still think you're insane, but thank you."

"I'm happy you like it. You know you never need to thank me."

"Really? Cause I think I know a way to thank you and bless this place together."

All Em needed was one kiss on her neck and feeling his grin against her skin to get going. Clothes were thrown off and left on the floor, and the luxury of not sharing a wall with anyone else was perfection. The loud moan as Dan finally entered her with one slow push echoed around the near empty room.

Usually on race weekends she was careful to not mark Dan's neck or scratch his back or shoulders. Usually she'd do her best to leave no marks at all unless it was a break but that day she couldn't care less. Her hands were all over his back and holding him as hard as possible. Part of her brain screamed at her that she was fucking everything up and she needed to stop, but Dan's frown as she went to let go and the way he squeezed her made her continue. If he was prepared for any comments and wanted her to keep going then she was going to.

At least now people knew that she was the one responsible for anything. She sucked a small dark mark against his collarbone, watching as the skin reddened and bloomed. She didn't care about it in the moment. The next day she probably would when his shirt moved the wrong way and everyone saw it but right then she couldn't care less. For once her head was quiet, focusing about how warm her Danny was against her, the way his hands made her feel so good. How he was hitting the perfect spots in her, the whispers of how good she was and how she was his best girl, his only girl. The marks he was leaving against her that screamed she was his. His, his, his.

When they finished it was like magic. Like every time he held her tight and kissed as they came down from their highs, the two of them keeping the other there. It was one of her favourite moments with him since that very first time they'd slept together. The world stopped for a few moments, silent and the only people who mattered were them. When she opened her eyes Dan was there, that smile that made her fall head over heels all those years ago on his face as he stole a kiss and made her smile against his lips.

Years ago the next thing in their routine had been one of them - usually Dan - asking to stay the night even when they shouldn't. That part of their routine was long gone. But the comfort and cosiness of the moment was ruined by Em's "oh shit!" and running to the bathroom, too afraid to mess up the brand new mattress that didn't even have sheets on it. The only thing there to clean up was Dan's shirt and she wasn't doing that to him.

When she came back feeling better Dan still kissed down her legs to make her giggle, Em looking at him smiling up at her. She ran her fingers through his curls as she looked down at the love of her life. How did she get so lucky? She didn't deserve him.

It took everything to get up from that mattress. She was jetlagged and tired and wanted to stay there and fall asleep beside him. She was comfortable and didn't want to leave. But they had things to do, shopping first on the list. If they were staying there for a night before moving to the team hotel they needed basic stuff. Dan insisted they didn't need sheets for the mattress, they had toilet paper and paper cups for their celebration and could get takeout. Even while Dan was trying to say nonsense Em was rolling her eyes and pulling clothes out of one of their cases to put on. She made Dan do the same, even as he insisted she looked better without clothes on.

"Do you really want me to go to Target naked, Love?" The wide eyes and rapidly shaking head was all that Em needed for him to get up and shimmy his jeans on.

For most couples a trip to the supermarket was a normal thing. But they weren't a normal couple, or at least not that normal. Usually groceries were delivered, and the occasional times they did something like this was during the winter break in Perth. They'd go some weekday morning when it was quiet and people didn't notice them. She loved it though. It was like going out with an excitable kid who looked at everything and kept stopping. She got to hold his hand and be normal for rare occasions.

So that afternoon it was a rare opportunity for Em to drag him around. It took a pout to convince him it was a good idea, but an oak milk latte from the Starbucks before they started shopping was all the extra incentive he needed to keep going. But as they started wandering Dan was the one who kept stopping and looking. He wanted the perfect glasses, Em got distracted looking at lipsticks for a new perfect pink. Then they spent time deciding on towels and bedding for not just their room but the spares too. After all that a coffee maker and mugs had to be bought, along with the matching plates and bowls. All of that, plus a lamp, cushions, a fake plant, fairy lights, candles, and groceries for that night and the morning that could be frozen when they were leaving ended up in the trunk of the rental car. Em couldn't stop grinning the entire drive back to their house.

London was a mix of things they'd had in both of their apartments, choosing what they preferred and putting them together with new things when they really needed them. Perth, Monaco, and LA were kind of like that, Em turning professionally interior decorated places into actual homes instead of places where they just spent time. But Austin was different. It was a blank canvass where she could start from scratch and turn it into colour and home and happiness. Even if this trip was just a few things to make it better she could take time and decide what they were going to do.

She barely got to put the sheets on the mattress before Dan was dragging her back down, covering her in kisses. It had been since the summer break when they felt like this, able to hold and love each other and Em able to shut her brain up enough to enjoy it. Thye spent the afternoon and evening moving from bed to couch and back again, ordering takeout from the restaurant Dan made sure they were near, before returning to loving each other. Dan held onto her as they fell asleep, Em content and cuddled in.

The next day was when they were supposed to move to the hotel but neither of them really wanted to. The boys landed and they met with them, checking in, but deciding to spend that night in their home before having to go back to the F1 circus. Instead they spent it with Michael and Blake, Em watching the three of them laughing and joking. It was easier to stay a little on the outside of it all and watch, Dan's hand around her waist as they sat in their favourite bar in Austin yet again eating barbecue and Em drinking a coke and stealing sips from Dan's one beer before the race weekend.

Getting out of their uber and being completely alone once the front door closed was a luxury for Em. They were always surrounded by people, she knew that. Dan loved having family and friends around, loved being with everyone. She'd known that since the beginning. It was one of the reasons - besides the obvious - why she was around the boys so much. Dan loved to bring his people around and Em loved watching him be happy and glowing no matter how loud it was. Usually she could put her earplugs in and smile and it was fine. But at the track and in offices and media centres it was more of the same. There were always people, Dan was always busy.

She'd known from the beginning that Dan wasn't always hers. She had to share the man she loved with the rest of the world. And she knew this, she married him knowing it, but it was hard sometimes. She'd gone in with eyes open that especially during race weeks it was a good week to have a couple of hours alone together. The only thing she asked was that they went to bed together. She'd stay up as long as she had to to do it with him. She always fell asleep with her head on his shoulder and her hand on his chest. Dan always woke her up with a kiss on her forehead if he had to get up before her as a quiet goodbye and a heads up she'd fully wake alone. It was what they did. So one extra night where they got to wake up completely alone felt nearly perfect.

But some nights, even when they were alone, she could tell Dan's head was somewhere else. This was one of those nights. They were curled up to sleep, arms around each other, but Em could see that his eyes were open and his jaw was tense. Even with the way the last few days were nice it wasn't an easy time. Everything seemed to be slowly crumbling around them. Apart from their relationship it seemed like so much was falling apart and it was impossible. She was doing everything she could to keep the man she loved going but Em didn't have much left to give. There were some things she couldn't fix. She couldn't magic up a seat in a team for him no matter how badly she wished she could do it. She couldn't even negotiate with him, because that wasn't her job. Doing it for the McLaren severance was different, that was for their pride and to prove that team hadn't ruined them. It was personal. But talking to other team principals? She couldn't.

The one thing she could do was reach up and push a kiss to his jaw, watching as he looked down at her with sad eyes. She could ask the questions and support him and love him and give him advice.

"Penny for them?" It was quiet until Dan took a deep breath.

"Should I talk to Haas? Guenther sent over a proposal. It's a seat for n-"

"Absolutely not." The vehemence that she came out with worried even her but she kept talking. "That team ruins people and makes them miserable, and as much as Guenther has been decent to me in the paddock they're run ridiculously. Look at what's happening to Mick, he told Mick last week that he might keep the seat but now you're being offered it? They won't listen to you, they won't care about the setup. They'll mess it up and blame you. They did it to Kevin and then begged him to go back. You deserve better than it."

"It might be the only way for me to have a seat next year."

"I'd rather we call it a day and just go home." Em was blinking back tears as Dan held her closer, watching as she got herself together. "I can't spend another year watching you suffer for a team and their stupid car while you're trying to smile. This year has been so hard, Danny. You deserve better than that. You're so much better than that."

"Do you really want that? Do you want to go home?" The words echoed around her head. Home. She still didn't know what it was. Dan was her home, but she couldn't say anywhere really was anymore. But her tears began to fall and she couldn't stop them.

"We lost too much this year, Danny. We lost a baby. We nearly lost us too. We did lose us for a while and we nearly didn't make it back. I don't have anything else to give it. This sport and this team has taken almost everything. It even took my dignity in Spa. We've given it everything. Baby I love you with my whole heart and you know I will do anything for you. You know that." She took a deep breath as she tried to get the courage to ask.

"I know, Baby girl. I know. And I love you just as much. We're us, that's not changing ever." His words and the warm arms around her made her able to say it.

"You can't ask me to watch you go through another year like this one. You can't do that to me. We can't go through another year like this and you know we can't. If we try it's going to break us. Please. If you love me just...please don't. Be a reserve driver or try something else or any other driving, I'd rather watch you do ovals. Please don't make me have to go through watching you suffer like this again."

She broke down after speaking, feeling Dan hold her even tighter than he had before. She'd never said it. She never wanted to tell him not to drive, she adored him and trusted him to do the right thing. But this was terrifying to watch. She didn't know what she could do except ask him not to drive for once.

"Hey Baby, I've got you. It's alright, Emmy. It's alright. It's going to be fine, Baby girl. I promise. You just take deep breaths. Breathe in with me Baby." She followed his exaggerated breathing until she'd calmed down from the panic attack she'd nearly worked herself into yet again. Her fucking brain. She needed to be calm for this.

"I'm so tired, Dan. I'm exhausted and I don't know if I can deal with another year at a team that won't respect you. This year was too much. I can't lose you again. Please don't make me lose you again."

"It won't happen, Emmy. I swear it's not going to. I'm gonna be right here."

"It happened twice."

And that was her fear. They'd basically lost each other last Christmas, and what should have been the final nail in the coffin was Melbourne. They shouldn't be together. They'd fought for so long, they'd promised each other. But she didn't know if she could fight for another year to try not lose him.

"That was different and you didn't lose me. I fucked up but we're right here. Remember that forever promise we made?" He kissed her ring finger, Em smiling through her tears.

"I almost did and it felt like I couldn't breathe. I can't go through it again. Call me selfish but I just can't."

"You're not selfish. You're the exact opposite of selfish, Babe." The pain in Dan's voice made Em feel even worse than she did saying it.

"I feel like I am. I know how much you love racing."

"But I love you more." He punctuated his words with a kiss before continuing. "I'm chasing loving racing again, and I've stopped loving it now. Maybe it's time to let it come back to me. If it works I can try get a seat in 2024. If not I've got you, and we can work it out from there. I can be a househusband. I was thinking about it, y'know? Maybe it's time for me to be a househusband, you get your year. I'll stay home, make breakfast, do laundry, all that. You deserve a year of not doing anything after taking care of everything I've thrown at you."

"You and I both know you'd go insane if you did that. It'd be fun for a week." A watery giggle escaped, Dan smiling at her ability to laugh.

"Maybe two? But it can be your year. I want you to be happy, not just following me around the world while I'm doing it."

"All I wanna do is be with you. I just...I want you to be my Danny for a while. I don't want to have to share you with the world for once. What I really need right now is to wake up on a weekend and not go anywhere. I want us to stay in our bed, not in a hotel unless we're on holiday. I hate myself for being this selfish and asking you, but I need this."

"A weekend in bed not going anywhere sounds really good right now." Dan kissed her nose, brushing the hair out of her face to make sure Em was looking at him. "I'm telling you, you're not selfish."

"I feel like I am. I feel like I'm making a decision for everyone. Michael's gonna need a new job, it's a mess."

"I was thinking about telling him I think it's better for our friendship to not work together so that'll be fine. Jack's looking for someone for F2 next year, that might work. But you're not making a decision for everyone, you're telling me how you feel. I told you before. If you asked I'd walk away. We deserve to be happy. You deserve that."

"I love you." She held onto him tightly, desperate to make it clear how much she loved him. She didn't deserve Daniel. Not at all. Somehow he loved her even though she'd made a mess of so much. "It's just one year. Then we can go back. You can keep racing till your forties if you want like Fernando. I don't care if you do."

"You really think I want to race that long? Two or three babies and racing around the world for twenty something weeks a year?"

"Seb is. For now." She wasn't looking forward to saying goodbye to someone who'd always been kind to her.

"Yeah, but I don't think I'll be able to do that after our kids start school. There's a difference between Switzerland and Perth."

"If you want to do it the option will be there. As long as you want to keep racing and you're happy you know I'll support you. We can work around anything else." Em snuggled into him at his words, at the knowledge. He wasn't lying. They'd be happy. She'd make herself be happy.

"We can talk about it then. But Toto and Christian have already been in contact about a reserve role. Christian rang before I even did the video. But I'm focusing on you and me first."

"Thank you," Em breathed out.

"For what?"

"For being you. I just wanna be your girl. I wanna be your girlfriend in public and nothing else. I...I need to be your girl for more than a week, not your assistant. I love my job and I love working but I need this. I need to not think about the fact that I share you with the world for a weekend. I know it's a lot to ask but I need that. Just one year. Can you give me a year?" She felt awful asking, but they were there together. She knew he wouldn't feel bad about her asking.

"With one condition."

"Anything you want."

"Marry me. I'll take a year off as long as you marry me."

"Did you hit your head or something? Want to do it again?"

"We said we were going to do it properly, right? I'd propose and we'd have a wedding with our family and that's what I want for us. A year off and we can plan our wedding. Go wherever we want for our honeymoon. No schedule, no fitting it into a two week gap and a honeymoon over the summer break. Just us and the people we care about. So marry me, Emmy?"

"Yeah. This sounds perfect." She kissed her husband, grinning against him as he held her left hand and kissed the perfect engagement ring he'd given her in August when she'd proposed in LA. Getting to do this their way was more important to them than revealing anything else. It felt right.

The next morning when Blake came over for breakfast before the three of them went to the hotel they spoke to him about their decision. It was easier than Em expected it to be, Blake agreeing with both of them entirely. Dan was burnt out, Em was a mess of a human, they were shadows of who they were just a year before. It made sense.

He didn't admit it, but Em knew Blake was exhausted too. He'd been carrying her and Dan for the last six months on his own, a year away from all of their travelling and chaos would be good for him too. They could recharge and focus and next year Blake could start putting feelers out about potential seats.

The other thing they agreed was Em was taking a leave of absence from work. She hated it. She hated feeling like she couldn't do her job. But she needed to look after herself and both of her boys agreed. As soon as Dan said it she knew he was right, nodding and hugging him. At least they got to tell Blake about planning the wedding, and the hug her big brother gave her was worth everything.

Once they got to the hotel it became the normal race weekend whirlwind. Dan was in media and strategy meetings while Em stayed in her hotel room, Criminal Minds on tv while she smiled at her ring and took down little notes about the wedding they wanted. Blake was there showing her the progress he'd made on hiring the horse for Dan's grand entrance to COTA the following day. Her idiot was actually attending press day on a horse. It was entirely Blake's fault for encouraging it months ago.

When Dan got back they facetimed his parents to give them the news, Em crying as Joe said he was happy to finally get to properly call her their daughter now. It was a good day. She was taking the good day.

The only downside to arriving to the circuit was firstly that she couldn't hold Dan's hand because of the horse, and secondly having to hide her engagement ring. She didn't want to take it off, but it was an unspoken agreement that they weren't telling anyone outside their people until after the season was over. They didn't want McLaren using it for media. She didn't want an instagram post from anyone who was firing her husband congratulating the happy couple. She didn't want that orange team involved in her personal life, so the announcement could wait. The nice part was getting to pet the horse Dan was riding. Before Bluey was saddled up she got to brush him down under his groom's careful eye, and afterwards she brushed him and gave him an apple as a treat. It felt like back in Montana, brushing the horses there and her anxiety disappearing for a gorgeous few moments.

Once that was done she didn't have much to do for the afternoon. Blake was officially taking over what she'd been doing, following Dan from meeting to meeting instead of Em. To avoid even more rumours and speculation she wandered the paddock every hour or so with her iPad in hand, chatting to people she knew and acting like it was normal.

It was a weird relief that not working was a help. She still had her therapy sessions with Mildred every Monday - plus a Thursday one before most race weeks - still had her every two weeks psychiatrist appointments to talk about her medication levels, but it felt like it wasn't working. She felt like she was jumping out of her skin, anxiety a constant in her head. A decent part of her wished she could stay in their hotel rooms on any given weekend, but she had to be there for Dan.

Her weekends were most comfortable when she went from the entrance to Dan's room and back again. Nobody bothered her in there, she hid away while her friends and husband were busy, and she felt awkward sitting in hospitality with people looking at her like she was a dead woman walking. So instead she lay along the massage table pinning things to a pinterest board to start wedding planning. Her plan was to show Dan what she liked and they could decide after.

Between taking notes about not wanting designated seats so it could be a mix of people and looking at flower options she dozed off where she lay. Sleep was at a premium for Em on race weekends, but having something nice to think about helped her doze.

She woke up to Dan's kisses against her forehead, not even opening her eyes but reaching out for Dan to squeeze her hand. It was a quick murmur that he'd be back soon, he just had one more meeting and then they could go. Before she knew it Dan was back, helping her stand and fixing her hair so she didn't look like she'd spent the last hour sleeping. They walked out of the paddock hand in hand, ready for the hotel and to curl up in bed together.

"I wish we could just stay in our house instead of here," Em whispered as she looked out the window to the city view in front of them. It was gorgeous, the room was luxurious. But she wanted their house with the mattress that they didn't even have a bed frame for yet. Dan stood behind her, Em resting her back against his front. She could relax and let her anxiety float away for the next few hours until they had to get up and do it the next day and the next and the next, before the brief reprieve before Mexico.

"Saturday night after Blake's birthday dinner? And next time we're here we can stay there full time."

"That sounds perfect."

Waking up on Friday morning was nearly impossible. The universe knew Em wasn't an early bird, but she felt absolutely drained. She didn't want to think about it, but something was wrong with her. She knew when it took Dan shaking her shoulder to wake her up. Usually kisses against her forehead would wake her but the last week or so it had been harder and harder to wake herself up and move more. The kisses were still there but not enough.

"Morning Baby, hey. Sleep well? I've been trying to wake you for a few minutes." Dan was smiling at her as she blinked blearily at him.

"Jetlag? Mornin'. Do we have five more minutes?"

"We're down to ten, but we've got time." He always woke her a little bit early before they actually had to get up. Usually it was fifteen minutes but she'd burned through that time already.

"Mmm, thank you."

It was quiet for a moment before Dan spoke again. "When's your next blood test for?"

She'd been getting them semi regularly since the first doctor's appointment when she came back, the realisation that her iron and calcium levels were low not helping her mental health. The supplements were helping, but the exhaustion remained.

"Before Christmas? I think?"

"Want me to make a doctor's appointment for after Mexico? I can call when they're open on Monday for you. You're sleeping a lot, I just wanna make sure your iron didn't drop or anything. You haven't really been eating much."

She'd been exhausted and barely eating. Part of it was just not being hungry, part of it was nothing was appetising. Even her usual foods that would always make her want to eat weren't it. Even the snack plates that she'd usually pick at weren't worth it.

"Yeah, ok. Just...don't tell Michael? I don't wanna hear about it from him. I don't want more supplement ideas and stuff."

"I won't even think about it."

She went to move to get up but didn't, too comfy there. "'m sorry 'm so tired. It's just been exhausting the last few weeks."

"We'll go home after Mexico and find out. Maybe you just need a med tweak. Or we can go see a doctor here. Go to a clinic, get an iron test to see if it's something to do with that?"

"Nah, we can wait till we're back. Extra naps will work?"

"You'll be all good, Love. I've got you."

Em didn't want to get out of the bed when she was warm, comfortable, and safe in bed with her husband. She didn't want to go to the paddock, and she definitely didn't want to sit in the orange decorated building while the rest of the team just waited for Dan to fail. Again.

But she didn't have a choice, so she got up and got dressed to go stand beside him. Her makeup hid the circles under her eyes, her hair was pulled back, and her outfit was perfect. She could do this. She could absolutely do this. Before they left the hotel room Dan gave her a hug and the sweetest kiss to make her smile.

They held hands for every second they could going through the paddock. All the way down to the car, on the drive in, and walking through the paddock. Dan held her hand proudly as they went in, getting her to go through the barrier first before following her in and taking her hand again.

Em didn't want to be at the track so early, especially when Dan wasn't even driving for FP1. Palou was in Dan's car for it as a rookie driver test, and while she had nothing against Alex she didn't want to watch him. She didn't care about motorsport. It had taken her years of trying to be interested but she didn't care. She cared about Dan driving and that was it. So instead she stayed in Dan's tiny room in hospitality, reading her kindle. The second the interviews and press conferences were done she switched the tv off and kept reading. Her friends were working and getting Dan ready for the rest of the day but she stayed there.

The nice part was that between chapters and looking at pinterest on her iPad for wedding ideas Dan would come upstairs for the briefest hug. He always came with tea and a smile, a quick kiss and a "miss you". He could go back knowing she was fine there.

"You need to go back to work, you're in the car in twenty minutes," Em told him as he dawdled going back downstairs once he was in his orange race suit.

"What if I don't wanna? I wanna stay here with you." She put her kindle away and stood up to take his hand, ready to go stand in the garage to watch him for the hour.

"I could kidnap you and we can go home? Nobody knows where our house is, we can hide there maybe?"

"Is it kidnapping if I'm your husband?"

"I mean not if you go willingly." Dan laughed and his loud honk made her smile. He was there with her and it was worth it.

"You gonna stay here or wanna come down to the garage with Blake?"

"Garage. You know I'm not gonna miss you in the car, no matter what."

"If you need anything just head out, ok? I'll find you after. Just tell Blake."

"I'll be fine, don't worry." She leaned up to kiss his cheek and watched as Dan smiled at her.

"I always worry. Same way you worry about me. It's what we do."

They were about to walk out when Em pulled him back for a moment, watching as Dan looked at her. "I know weekends at your room here used to be more fun and sexy and great. I...I'm sorry it's not like that anymore. Now it's just a mess and yeah. I wish it was like we used to be. I'm just boring now."

"Baby girl, we're married and in our thirties. We're supposed to be boring."

"I'm being serious."

"I know you are." She looked away but Dan's fingers cupped her chin, pulling her up to look at him. "Look at me Emmy. You are the smartest, funniest, most interesting person in the universe. You're my favourite person. You're my wife and I love you. I don't care if we just sit in silence doing nothing for a week. As long as I'm with you I'm happy and having fun. Nobody does it like us. right?"

"Right. And I love you too. Forever and always."

"And to the moon and to Saturn. Let's go and it's one more driving session to the end of the year."

She walked down holding his hand, kissing his helmet and telling him to go fast and be safe before taking her spot beside Blake. Her headphones went on and she stood there holding Blake's hand as they watched the time tick down.

The worst part of the sessions was having to hide her anxiety, the cameras flashing to her and her name appearing on TV. Emma Smyth, Daniel Ricciardo's partner. It still felt surreal that the world knew it. It was pure anxiety as she stood waiting, taking slow deep breaths as Blake squeezed her hand. It was one more hour until she could hide away again.

She hated seeing him in that car. She'd always trusted the cars he drove, always trusted the teams he had. But not anymore. And it was hard because she knew he didn't trust it either. She hated living with the feeling that he didn't trust the car to perform the same way lap after lap. The feeling kept growing in her chest until he was finally wheeled back in when practice ended. He sent her a wink as he got out of the car, Em's smile returning seeing him there safe. If he could have Dan would have given her a hug but he was immediately surrounded by engineers to give feedback to.

By the time Dan was free to leave the circuit it was nearly dark outside. The debriefing took time, and then he had to do partnership stuff that took longer than expected. For this time she decided to be brave and go into hospitality, sitting beside Blake. He kept her distracted by asking questions about things that he really didn't need to ask. For years they'd worked beside each other and it felt totally normal, and even now she wasn't working it felt normal and looked normal. She didn't know what she'd do without him.

Saturday was a day when she had to put her bravest face on because it was Blake's birthday. Despite another day of not wanting to leave the hotel room she got dressed and smiled, following Dan to their best friend's hotel room to give him a giant hug and the presents they'd gotten for him. Her big brother gave her a hug in return, a whispered thank you more than enough for her. She had to hold on for Blake's day. Had to.

She spent practice and qualifying in the garage, holding Blake's hand as usual when they watched Dan get into the car. It had been a happy week in one of their favourite cities, her rings hanging around her neck as she looked on. But instead she watched as the man she loved got out of the car frustrated after Q1, qualifying seventeenth. This stupid team and this stupid car and she had to keep herself together because she didn't want cameras on her.

Dan coming over to say sorry to Blake because he wanted to make his friend proud but didn't broke her heart. It was all Dan ever wanted to do, to make his wife, his friends, his family happy and proud of him. She knew he was aware of the sacrifices people had made to help him, and he was determined to make it worth it. But for nearly all of this two year stint at McLaren it hadn't worked. She'd watched him try. But yet again he was putting a brave face on and a fake smile about how he was going to make up places on Sunday.

She watched him blame himself yet again in front of the media and the world and Em wanted to whisk him away. She wanted to make it all better. He deserved more. She'd seen it with her own eyes, she'd been there when he'd won races. He'd never won them easily. All she wanted was to take him away from the stress and the constant criticism. But she couldn't.

As soon as they were finally alone - after Dan had done media and cooled down with Michael, finally entering his room where Em was waiting. Her arms went straight around him, holding tightly so he could know she was there.

"I'm sorry, Baby. I thought I could get into Q2 for Blake and for you. Make this weekend good for us." She looked up at Dan, trying to keep herself from falling apart.

"It's already a good weekend. You did everything you could, Baby. I don't blame you." Dan just held her tighter, doing everything to keep it together for a few more moments. But then he had to go back to the debrief while Em packed their stuff up. The hotel restaurant was booked for that evening for Blake's birthday. Just the four of them, a chill evening before some of Blake's friends from other teams went to a booking they had in a barbecue place after the race on Sunday. Part of her wished it was just the three of them, pushing that thought away from her head. She loved Michael. She did. He was just difficult to be around lately.

In a shocking turn of events Dan's debriefing didn't take as long as expected. But even with his performance there were fans there to ask for autographs and photos. Em soaked in the love everyone else had for him as he got to glow. Even with that delay they were in the hotel slightly earlier than expected and going straight to their room to get ready.

"We don't have time for a bath, right?" Dan asked, Em kissing his cheek.

"No Baby. We have to be downstairs in half an hour. You have time for a quick shower if you want one."

"Will you come with me? Please?"

It took nothing for Em to agree to go with him, walking into the bathroom and helping Dan to undress as she got her own clothes off. Dan set the shower up while Em stepped in, feeling his arms around her as he got under the showerhead too.

"Can we have a bath tomorrow when we go home?"

"That's the best plan I've heard all week."

Em wanted to spend more time than they had there, trying to get Dan to relax. But instead she carefully washed and conditioned his hair, giving them the love Dan didn't in a normal shower. He did the same for her hair, the apple scent of her shampoo filling the steamy room. Ten minutes wasn't nearly enough but they were out, Dan pushing a kiss to the 3 tattoo on her wrist before he let her go.

Five minutes later Em was nearly ready, just running the hairdryer over her so the wet strands didn't dampen her clothes. Once it was mostly dry she was happy, taking Dan's hand to go back downstairs.

Blake and Michael had arrived before the two of them, Em catching the tail end of their whispered conversation with "-my night out, don't do that." all she could hear. As soon as they realised they were there the two men stepped apart as Blake greeted them.

She knew it was serious when Michael didn't make comments about what Dan should order thanks to his race weekend diet. It was even weirder when he didn't say anything about what Em should eat, or how much, or how she should avoid certain foods. She may have been exhausted but she knew it was Blake. The tail end of their conversation was the only evidence she needed to know he'd said something about keeping suggestions quiet.

Em hated to admit it, but it was glorious. She got to watch Dan eat an actual meal that he enjoyed and she was even hungry for the first time in a while. Finishing the whole plate was a challenge but she ate slowly, sipping her drink and putting her fork down when it was finished. The fond look on Dan's face was everything.

The three others at the table looked at her surprised when Em nodded and took a dessert menu. Michael wasn't having one and she didn't want Blake to have his birthday dessert alone. It was easy to pick a strawberry and apple crumble and ask for a second spoon. She ate it carefully in layers, smiling as Dan took a couple of spoonfuls of fruit and left the icecream for her. She ignored the looks Michael gave them as they shared, the plain green tea sat in front of him telling her everything she needed to know.

It was an early night by birthday celebration standards but with the race the next morning they didn't have a choice. It was a hug for Blake and a promise that tomorrow night would involve drinks and dancing and fun. She'd get through it for him, he deserved it.

As soon as the door to their hotel room closed and the latch went on their clothes disappeared to go to bed. The way Dan's arm had been around her waist was all Em needed to know that her husband needed her extra close that night. It was a quick trip to the bathroom to wash their faces and get themselves ready as Em pushed kisses across his face before dragging him to bed.

She really didn't think anything would happen between them, just holding each other and goodnight kisses. Dan had to get sleep before the race, but then his lips moved down her jaw and to her neck, one hand on her ass pulling her in as his knee slipped between her thighs. It was like a flame was lit in her, she needed her husband. She needed to feel him as close as possible. She needed to hear him whisper her name like a prayer, hands holding her tightly and leaving the fingertip bruises that sang she was his and nobody else's to the world. It was electric and everything she could have asked for, groaning Dan's name out as he begged her to tell him everything he made her feel.

Dan helped her up and helped her clean before she went back to bed with him, wrapped up in his arms to sleep. For once on a race night she was able to actually get asleep at a reasonable time, the lub-dub of Dan's heartbeat steady under her ear.

Getting up on race morning was the worst feeling. Em wished she could have stayed in bed. Staying there with a bottle of wine - even if she wasn't meant to be drinking because of her medication - hot water for her favourite tea, some snacks, the latest crappy romance series she was reading on her kindle, and maybe ice cream as she curled up beside Dan in bed would have been the best day. Instead she had to go to a paddock filled with people who wanted photos and autographs from Dan.

If she had her choice she'd stay back in the hotel with her favourite people but she couldn't. She had to make herself look presentable because cameras didn't lie, and she didn't need another "concerned" instagram commenter asking about if she was ok because of a photo where she didn't look perfect. Dan didn't care if her hair was a mess or if she wasn't wearing makeup or if she was in casual clothes, but the world did. So she forced herself up and prettied herself and was ready to leave. It took a deep breath as she held Dan's hand and walked out of the bubble of their hotel room. They were going to their house that night. She could make it work.

The entire drive to the circuit was cuddling under Dan's arm. Holding his hand on the backseat wasn't enough for her. She needed Dan to hold her until they got there and had to let go, and he never ever complained about it.

It was another morning of faking smiles in front of everyone, cameras recording and fans taking photos and calling Dan's name. She'd put her earplugs in before they even reached the circuit to block some of the noise but it didn't fully help. She focused on Dan's warm hand in hers and took deep breaths to keep herself calm. Em ignored the cameras and photographers watching them, instead looking at her husband and at Blake to remind herself she wasn't alone. She focused on Dan's fingers squeezing her hand. He'd promised not to let her go and he wouldn't.

Once she settled down in his driver's room he kissed her goodbye to go to the different race morning duties he had, making sure she was ok. Dan promised to see her as soon as he could and Em sat there and breathed deeply, earplugs replaced with her Beats to match Dan's and music playing. A couple more hours and they were out of there. Dan just had to go around the track and then they were free to go home. Back to their actual house to get changed and celebrate Blake, and go back to sleep on that mattress she'd already fallen in love with.

Dan came back up to get changed, Em standing up to go back to the garage with him. He'd taken the time to come up and give them enough time to see each other and make her feel better before facing the cameras. Usually he was surrounded by Blake and Michael before getting ready but this time it was just the two of them in a moment alone.

When he pulled his shirt off he took the necklace he was wearing off too, handing his rings over to Em to keep safe. She watched him get into the nomex and saw just how slim he was getting. Let the year end. Just let it end. As he stood and stretched he held out his right hand, Em taking it with her left. Just like they had in Baku and Montreal already this year they were going to the garage together. He was walking through the paddock holding her hand and not caring what the world thought. Reason one million why Em loved him.

"Ready to go?" She thought she'd hidden how she was feeling but it was clear from Dan's reaction that she hadn't really.

"You know, right?" Em whispered in response to avoid his question with the one she knew the answer to. They'd tattooed it to keep it front of mind.

"I know, Baby Girl. I love you too." Dan nodded and raised their joined hands to kiss her ring finger. Like always her wedding and engagement ring were on her necklace hiding below her shirt, Dan's joining them for safe keeping for the race. He'd be allowed wear it but that meant publicity and neither of them wanted that.

"Good. Go fast, be safe, and come back to me. Please." She nearly got it out without the final word but Em couldn't help herself, looking up at Dan and trying not to cry. Please be safe. Please come home. She was panicking more and more about what he did.

"I always will."

It was one final kiss and a long hug before they left the room. Blake was standing outside the door waiting for them, clearing a path through the crowd to get them into the garage and away from prying eyes and just where the tv cameras could catch her but nobody else. It was clear he didn't want to leave where she stood, but one nod from their best friend and Dan kissed her on the forehead and went to get into the car.

Em wished he never did.

Qualifying was bad, but finishing second to last was even worse. He'd been overtaken by nearly everyone he qualified ahead of, and he was forever behind a Haas. As much as she adored Mick Dan shouldn't have been down there with him. As soon as he was weighed he came straight to her, the two of them finding a corner to just be for a few moments before the real world had to intrude again. She knew Blake and Michael were making excuses but she didn't care, arms around Dan and holding him tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Emmy. I'm sorry I fucked up and disappointed you." The heartbreak in his voice was too easy to hear and she was so angry that he thought she could be disappointed in him.

"Hey, no. No, Danny. You can never disappoint me. Not ever. Not about a result in a race. I love you. I love my husband. I love my Danny. Fuck this entire circus, I care about you. Not cars on a track."

"I love you too. So fuckin' much. You don't know how much I do."

"I've a slight idea. You're gonna be ok. We're gonna be fine. Three to go."

"Three left. Yeah." He was quiet for a moment and she could feel him taking a deep breath in. "I don't wanna go to media."

"I'll pay the fine if you want. I offered to in Monaco. Whatever makes you happy." She nearly thought he'd take it, but instead she watched as he stood up and pressed his thumb against where he knew their rings hung on her necklace as if for good luck.

"I'll see you after? We can go and pick up our bags from the hotel before we go to dinner with everyone."

"Sounds like a plan, I'll pack up." She went to separate but took her necklace off, unthreading her thin gold wedding ring from the chain before putting it back on. Dan watched as she held it up before handing it over. "For your pinkie. I'm right there with you while you're doing it."

It took everything in her to let Dan leave and go in front of the media. She knew some of the reporters, knew the ones who'd be good to him and wouldn't ask awkward questions that left him with no hope for a good answer. They could leave soon and that was what mattered.

Her brain kept boiling over with revenge plots that she knew in her heart and soul she couldn't let happen. She couldn't destroy McLaren, as much as she wished she could. It would hurt more than help. So instead she focused on putting everything into backpacks. Usually it was done neatly, clothes folded and cables coiled up. This time she just put it all in as fast as she could. She wanted to be out of the room the moment Dan arrived up to say they were free. The TV in the corner was playing an interview with him, and the moment "I don't know how I'm continuing to continue on" came out of his mouth she was so angry. She needed to be out of the circuit.

Everything was nearly done when she heard it. The remote was in her right hand to switch the TV off when Zak Brown's face appeared on it talking about Dan's performance and how he wasn't performing. She knew but seeing him talk about personal problems made her want to scream.

Em remembered Dan's description of his anger that day in Baku when the photo of them was made public. The way everything took over because the woman he loved was hurt and he couldn't change it. He had to control himself because Em needed him. And that evening in Austin she felt the exact same way, but this time there was nobody else to stop her. Without a second thought her fist made contact with the metal door hiding her from the world, a sickening crunch heard as she made contact.

“Fuck. Fuck!” Em clutched her hand to her chest as she stared at the dent in the metal door of the drivers room. She hadn’t meant to do that. It was supposed to be a little hit just to get her frustration out. Instead she couldn’t bend her fingers and she wanted to cry.

The fucking race and Zak Brown opening his fucking mouth because he couldn’t stand that the attention wasn’t on McLaren for one damn weekend. But no he had to say the cost cap penalty wasn’t enough and talk shit about Dan and if it was his face or the door at least his face wouldn’t have hurt so much.

“Ems? You ok?” She looked up to see Blake walk into the room as concern spread across his face. “TimTam what happened?”

“Punched the door.” He moved her hand and she groaned while a tear fell. “Fuck that hurts.”

“I want Michael to look, I think you might have broken it.”

“I’ll be fine till we get to Mexico. I just need to get out of here. Please Blakey.”

She nearly got through to him and convinced him to stay quiet until the door opened and Dan and Michael arrived in.

“Emmy?”

“She punched the door, her hand’s swelling up and it’s already starting to bruise. I think she might—“

“Don’t say it. Just don’t.” She was hanging on by a thread. Someone actually saying it was broken would make her lose every moment of composure she had left.

“Let me take a look.” Dan held her waist as Michael got her to twist her wrist. Flexing her fingers was completely out of the question and even in the ten minutes since it happened it was clear that her hand was swelling quickly.

“Looks like a boxers fracture Wriggle, but you need an X-ray. It might be the finger beside it too. Hospital.”

“I can’t go to the hospital. If I get spotted? If someone realises I’m there? It’s more bad fucking publicity. I’ll be fine.” She rambled for another minute before Dan stopped her with a kiss.

“Give us a sec?” Blake and Michael left the room to let them be alone and Em looked up at Dan. “You need to go, Baby. You need to. I don’t want my wife getting any more injured. I’ll go with you and we’ll be in and out and it’ll be fine. But please. I need to make sure you’re ok.”

“Fine.”

She didn't know how they managed to get out of the circuit without attracting more attention but she would forever be happy about it. Blake found a hotel near their house and pulled up, Dan walking in with her wearing a Ric3 hat to try avoid attention. He had to fill in the paperwork because she couldn't balance the clipboard with her injured hand. Em grinned watching Dan put her married name on the sheet and marking himself as her husband. The hospital needed to know it.

The triage was miserable and she was called back with Dan, leaving Michael and Blake behind. They did the same tests before and then asked Dan to leave the room for a few moments to go out to the waiting area. Her anxiety was ratcheting up as he left after the confirmation that she'd broken a bone in her hand, the medical staff asking her exactly how it had happened and if she was protecting herself. She didn't understand why they were asking until it was too late and Em was left alone in a room with a doctor and nurse.

"You can tell us what's going on. We can protect you." Her exhausted and anxious brain didn't make the connection.

"Protect me from what? A door I won't see again because this was Dan's last race there for...possibly forever? I'm not going to punch it again. I just want to get fixed up and go home."

"Is home safe for you, Mrs Ricciardo?"

They didn't ask that. They didn't. They couldn't. Home was the only safe place she had left in the world. Whether it was the farm, the apartment in London or one of the ridiculous places they called home it was safe for her. Anywhere that wasn't another Hilton hotel room was safe. Lying down with her husband and feeling him hold her was the best thing she had going for her. That was what she needed, to curl up with Dan on their mattress and have him hold her and tell her it was going to be ok.

"Home is my safe place. I've got my home and my husband and my family. Why are you asking this? Where's my husband? Why did you make him leave?"

"We think it might be better for you to-" The soft voice of the nurse made her angry. They were trying to convince her that something was wrong and as little as Em believed in her brain right then she knew Dan was right. He was the glue holding her together.

"You don't know me. You don't know what's best for me. You have no idea. I want my husband. Please. I just want my Danny. why isn't he here?"

"Ma'am, we're just trying to protect you." Em shuffled back on the bed, away from the nurse who had medication in her hand.

"Are you not listening to me? There's nobody to protect me from! I told you already, I punched a door in COTA. My husband didn't do anything, I'm the one who made a stupid mistake. Go ask anyone out there or my therapist or my psychiatrist, my husband isn't a violent man. Danny wouldn't hurt a fly. Why aren't you listening to me? Isn't that supposed to be your job to listen?" The yelling in her head was getting even worse, she didn't want to be there. She wanted Danny and could feel the tears pricking against her eyelids as she shut her eyes. She just wanted Danny.

"Mrs Ricciardo, please. Let-"

"Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me. I want my hand fixed, and if you think you're touching me you're only doing it in front of my husband or brother. I'm not doing it without them here."

She felt ridiculous. She was like a child throwing a tantrum but her head was screaming. She felt like her skin was on fire, the questions and insinuations about Dan making it even harder to think. Her broken hand was held against her chest as she brought her knees up, good arm wrapping around her legs.

The medical staff moved away from her and Em focused her breathing. She could do it. She'd be ok. If they didn't let her go she could run the second the door was open. She couldn't stay. The boys were outside and she knew they wouldn't leave her alone. They were just sitting outside and she could go out to them once the doctor was gone. All Em could do was try to hold herself together until she could go back outside.

When Dan came back out Blake could tell something was seriously wrong. His best mate was shaking his head, worry and fear spread across his features.

"DR?"

"They think I'm hurting her. They think I'm hurting Emmy. My Emmy? I...they think I broke her hand. The doctor all but wrestled me out of the room. She was crying and they made me leave. They might want to keep her in. I heard someone mention a psych consult for her room. B I can't. She can't." The guilt rushed through Blake's veins at the mention. They knew how fragile Em was. It was obvious that she'd barely made it through the weekend, they all knew that she was barely keeping herself together. But he thought Dan needed him more and left her alone and this had happened.

"It's gonna be ok. She's not staying here. It's not happening." He didn't know where the conviction came from but it did. "They came over and said they needed her insurance information. I have some stuff but you need all of it. Plus pay whatever they need before she comes out and you have to tell her whatever the treatment costs. I'll be here for when she comes back."

"Yeah. Yeah. Thanks. Both of you, I dunno what we'd do. She has to get out."

"She will. Go." He watched Dan be directed to a back office before sitting down and thinking who he could call. Who had the pull here? He wasn't sure.

"Maybe it's better she stays here. Em needs help. Travelling isn't helping. She can get better and Dan can focus on racing and after the season's over she can come back." Blake didn't believe what he'd heard.

"Take that back."

"We both know she's struggling. And you won't let me help her physically at least. Maybe this is a good thing." Michael sounded so sure and that felt like a kick in the teeth.

"We're in Texas. Austin's the good part of it but this state is dangerous for women. Add to that do you really think he'd focus? After how he was when she left. And the one person who calms her down is Dan. Why do you think I keep changing his schedule to give them five minutes?"

"But if she needs-"

"No. Just fucking no. You're fired." Dan had been considering it but after this? Once the season was up he was done. So done.

"Huh?"

"We'll talk about it later. But go back to the hotel. I don't know where we're staying tonight but just go. I don't want you anywhere near her. Not a fucking chance. Get out and stay away." Michael stood to leave as Dan came back, confused.

"What happened?"

"He's going back to the hotel. Remember we were talking about him leaving at the end of the year? I told him."

"But..." Blake didn't want to do it. Didn't want to shove another thing on his best mate's plate. He couldn't.

"He thinks Em might be better staying. He's worried about her too. I told him to go back to the hotel, it's stressful."

"If it was London or Perth I might say yes. She's been sleepy, she's been miserable. Getting out of bed is impossible. But not here, I can't leave her in the States. We just need to get to Abu Dhabi. We can get her there?" He was nearly begging and Blake nodded. Whatever it took he was getting them through the next four weeks. However he could.

"Mr Ricciardo?" An unfamiliar nurse came over and Blake stood at the same time Dan did. "Your wife needs painkillers and a cast. They want to get a psychiatrist down for her but there's nobody on call tonight. I'm assuming from what she said she has one?"

"Yeah. And a therapist. It's been helping but this year has been bad." Understatement of the fucking year as far as Blake was concerned.

"I'm a fan, I know what's happening. I've got an ortho to wrap her hand and get you both out but she won't let anyone in unless it's you or her brother? I don't want them seeing you there, is her brother here?"

"That's me." He watched her take in the clear differences between him and Em, the accents being the most prominent.

"Parent trapped or something? As long as she says you are that's what matters. Come back and we can get her out in ten."

"Deal." He followed her straight back, terrified to see how Em was when he got to the room.

Em was ready to fight anyone when she saw the door open, a new nurse walking in with an IV kit in her hand. But Blake was standing right behind her and Em thought she could breathe again.

"B?"

"Hey Timmy." He came straight over and took her right hand, squeezing once and it was like the crushing weight on her chest lifted slightly.

"Where's...I don't know where Dan is? A doctor took him out to ask him questions and they think he hurt me and they don't believe me? I told them. I told them what I did but they didn't believe me."

"It's ok Emmy, calm down. I'm right here, I told them it was you who hit the door. It's fine. Dan's fine, he's out there filling in forms and billing stuff so he asked me to come back to stay with you. You know what American hospitals are like." She started to calm until the bill hit her. This was going to be insane and he shouldn't have to pay it.

"No, no it's gonna be so exp-"

"You think that health insurance we have doesn't cover America? He just has to give details. As soon as you came on full time he added you to the health insurance. It's all good."

"Thanks Blakey."

"Any time, Timtam. But you need to let the nurse do it, ok? It's just a painkiller so they can set your cast. There's a new doctor who isn't a dick outside. But they can't do it unless you've got fluids and a painkiller cause it'll hurt."

"I dunno what I can take with my medication. I don't want to feel fuzzy." Tears of frustration were there about to fall. She didn't want to talk. She wanted to go back to when she didn't need to talk because Dan knew what she meant. It was too much.

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I do." It was the honest truth. She trusted him more than she trusted anyone, even herself.

"Then let her give you this so you can get fixed up and we can go home. It's all good."

The only reason she agreed was because Blake asked her. He was safe. He was always safe. He was the reason she came back in the end, the reason she agreed to go to Monaco and see Dan again. He wouldn't let anyone hurt her, and she knew that. So she took a deep breath and squeezed his good hand as the needle went into her elbow, the nurse showing her the bag of saline and the bottle of IV paracetamol before it was hooked up.

Blake held her while they went through everything, a thick white cast wrapped around her hand feeling heavy as she sat there. He kept telling her how brave she was and how good she was doing while Em just sat looked at the floor. Once she was ready to leave he helped her up and put his hoodie around her, the nurse smiling and wishing her well.

If Blake didn't have an arm around her shoulders she would have fallen when she saw Dan outside. His eyes were red, face in a frown and he just looked defeated. He hadn't looked like that since they'd gotten the call that his contract was being ended. Her husband sat in an empty corner of the hospital waiting room with a cap on trying to be unnoticed, totally lost in his thoughts. It wasn't until Blake called him that he realised they were there, standing up and arms immediately going around her. Em felt like she could finally, finally breathe again.

"Can we go home? Please?" She whispered against his chest. The terror that someone would hear and not let her leave was all encompassing.

"Let's get out of here. I finished all the paperwork, they said you were just finishing up. We're all good, let's go home."

"Can we stop for pizza? I want cheese pizza and they said I need to eat." Dan had his arm around her directing her out, agreeing that they'd stop. "Wait. Where's Michael?"

"He went back to the hotel to pack, it's all good. Let's head." Blake led the way to the car so they could finally leave. Em slid into the back seat, Dan across from her and holding her hand.

She didn't remember much of the drive back to the house. She knew they stopped for pizza, Blake getting back in the car with boxes. There was a conversation about what the official story would be, how they'd tell people she'd broken her hand. Honestly she didn't care. She didn't want to give a shit about telling people what she was doing or how she'd been hurt but she didn't have a choice in that anymore. The world got to know everything about her.

When they made it inside Dan brought her to their room, helping her get her jeans and bra off and instead putting on cosy pjs. Blake had seen her in worse, this didn't matter to her. Instead he brought her back to the kitchen where Blake had shared their food out.

She made herself eat two slices and it was enough, after that Em curled into Dan and held onto him so tightly she thought she'd burst. The painkillers had dulled her hand to a throb and she just wanted to sleep. There was talk of moving a flight and sorting stuff and she didn't care. She just wanted to sleep.

But there was a voice in the back of her head getting louder and louder. Dan wiped her face down with micellar water and helped her into bed, pulling her close once he'd stripped down. Her ring was still on his pinkie and it made her smile.

But she'd tied him down to a crazy wife who couldn't keep her shit together. She'd given him the option in Montreal. Chloe had told her about a walk up Mont Royale where you could see the city laid out beneath you. She'd said it to Dan then, that he could leave. She wouldn't blame him for leaving then. He could go and be happy and find someone who deserved him.

He didn't sign up for a girlfriend with mental health problems. Who was having a breakdown and ruining their lives. Who had days where speaking was too much for her, the words wouldn't come.

It had happened since she was a kid. Maybe not exactly like this but she'd always had to find coping mechanisms and now it didn't work. It wasn't her fault as a kid when her parents wouldn't help her and when she was in uni and couldn't afford anything apart from the six sessions from her uni gave her of therapy. But it definitely wasn't Dan's responsibility.

He deserved to be happy, he deserved to be with someone who loved him and wanted him to take a reserve role or the job with Haas. He deserved a happy wife and life and a family that she didn't know if she could give him. She didn't know if her anxiety would ruin them. It was so much.

So she was going to tell him he could leave. He deserved the world and maybe she wasn't the one to give it to him. She couldn't pull him out of drowning and she'd pull him down with her. She was going to ruin him and his reputation and his life, and she couldn't do that to him. She couldn't hurt him the way her mental health had hurt her. Anyone in their right mind would have walked away from her by then, but with the stress no wonder Dan didn't. Everyone else had left. Her parents, her extended family, her friends, her boyfriend. But Dan had been emotional and she'd proposed to him and it was so wrong. She'd basically forced him into it. It was a stupid, stupid decision and she'd ruined his life by doing it. So she was letting him go for his own good. He'd be happy to.

"Baby? Emmy you're crying. Do you need more painkillers? What's going on?" She hadn't realised she was crying. She didn't even mean to. Em took a deep breath before saying the words that were going to ruin her.

"I won't blame you. Y'know. If you want to leave. We've only been married for nine weeks, you can leave. No fault divorce, we leave with what we came in with. I don't want anything. You deserve better than a broken wife who can't keep herself together. I don't want to hold you back. I don't want anything. I can go."

The room was silent and Em could feel her heart break the longer the silence went on. It was over. Married for nine weeks to the love of her life and she had just ended it. In the same room he'd proposed to her so they could get married properly less than a week ago. How had she said yes then? She went to move out of the bed but Dan's iron grip kept hold of her.

"Don't ever say that. Never. Never ever. You are the only woman I want in my life. You're not broken, Emmy. You are here and whole and alive and beside me. I can't lose you. Please don't ask me that. Please don't ask me to leave you because I can't. I'd walk away from all of this before I lose you. You're my wife, Emmy. I promised I love you. I'm not leaving."

"You're not leaving?"

"No. I'm not going anywhere. Never. The day I got to put that ring on your finger was the best day of my life. I love you. The same way you love all of me for some reason. We're gonna fly to Mexico in a few days and we're gonna make you feel better. It's gonna take time, but we're going to be here. It's going to work. I promise. Come and sleep, Love. I'm not going anywhere."

Em curled into him, pushing a kiss against his chest. Sleep didn't come easily to her, but the noise of Dan's heartbeat and the warmth of him against her let her finally sleep.

@dr3lover @sabrinaselina55 @majx00 @tall-tanned-tattoo @lovingdennishauger @lauehr @msolbesg @f1medlife @idkwtfimdoing2 @leclercsbae @hiphopdancer101universe @mehrmonga @lewispool @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @coldheartedmar @sugarbabygirlofdaddy @nonsensical-nonce @a-distantdreamer @tita010 @leslizzle @javden @mloyer @saintandrea-droidsmuggler @magical-imagination-kgp @danarysstormborn @kakorrhaphiphobia @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @elizanav @neiich @luckyladycreator2 @scotlynaurora @belledawnidk

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x oc #call it what you want fic #ciwyw writing #daniel ricciardo fic #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo oneshot #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 imagine #f1 oneshot #formula one fanfic #formula 1 oneshot #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #formula one oneshot #formula one fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic

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egot1stical · 1 year ago

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ramblings about how winter king is not a simon but an ice king from my insta story. no idea how much sense this makes

Not to post a serious analysis of mr oncest bait, but it's kind of... *wrong* to say the winter king is Simon? I think it's more accurate to call him an ice king who THINKS he's Simon. His whole bit is that he removed the madness of the crown from himself, but the ice king isn't just "simon but crazy". The ice king is the result of the wish crown's curse over the span of 1000 years breaking down Simon's psyche and replacing and warping and mixing it with Evergreen (specifically Gunther's warped view of him) and adding more madness and sadness till he basically experiences ego death. We know our Simon (at least at this point) considers he and ice king separate entities. They have pretty different personalities

Winter king is more like ice king than Simon:

* Physical stuff. Obviously. He's taller, has longer straighter hair, and is fucking bright blue+ still has evergreen's nose LOL. But also smaller stuff like the fact he dresses different and has different shaped glasses

* WAYYYYY more outgoing. Even before All That, Simon doesn't seem like the most outgoing guy. He would go on expeditions yes but could you imagine that guy throwing a party? No.

* Way more selfish and self absorbed. Which is in line with ice king, but now he's conventionally attractive so everyone else agrees. This is opposed to the fact Simon want to khs

* No consideration for PB. This is an interesting one, because it's the first departure from both our Simon and IK. Obviously ice king was terrible to PB LOL but like....he liked her.....because she was like betty..... And now Simon really respects her (and feels terrible about it.) while WK straight up does NOT care about her. Different from both, but closer to IK because he is a dickweed

* Deals with emotions differently than Simon. Seems to have completely blocked Betty out (assuming they were still close in this universe). And marceline bro... whatever happened there, ice marcy is the KID version of her. He has her bass, so she at least grew up and they've interacted. Maybe she saw him get "fixed" and was like. Wow! You're not Simon!

* The name. Fionna's dream has the "ice prince", and that's what she calls Simon upon meeting him for the first time. If this was a True Simon, it would make more sense for him to be called the ice prince in universe, no? But he keeps the King title.

Simon spends a lot of the episode jealous of the winter king because he seems so well adiusted while he has the crown.

Simon has no magic, no nothing, but at least he has his brain back. The crown is very much directly linked to his loss of identity and to see WK be CONSCIOUS and LIKED and seemingly HIMSELF with magic is something he desperately wants especially at a time like this when his mental health is down the shitter while everyone talks about how much more fun he was when he was legitimately insane

The difference is that Simon spent every *conscious* moment FIGHTING the crown. Winter king is NOT fighting that shit. He says that he "conquered" it, but no you did not buddy. He is still dependent on it. He cannot survive without it. He just gave up. He's accepted that he's become one with it instead. So did ice king. Except without the madness of ice king, he can be a semi functional human being. He still gets the high of the crown and all its power, but this doesn't change the fact it Changed Who He IS.

Doesn't fucking matter rn becauee Simon hates himself and wants to be someone else but you get the idea. Winter king is just a version of Ice King LARPing as Simon. He can just do this way more convincingly even to himself because he can actually think now

Like “Betty? OH HAHA THE DEAD ONE” is an ice king ass reply and I swear to god at least part of the reason they didn’t get Tom Kenny to do his voice is because it would just be ice king’s voice again

also in regards to why candy queen is like that-Okay one, this goes with the name thing. Princess bubblegum. Normal. Candy Queen. Insane. Same as winter/ice king and ice prince. We cool?

Anyway

The Madness manifested in Simon/ice king in regards to Betty as romantic obsession. With the madness gone, CQ is the one feeling the brunt of these feelings- which would explain why Winter king doesn't remember feeling so Strongly about betty. Because Simon's feelings about her are naturally just fucking insane, it's so intertwined with the Madness that when that part is removed, so are any feelings towards Betty.

CQ is probably also obsessed with WK and "being together" because the sane part of her mind recognises that this madness is HIS and this is her fucked uo way of trying to like. Give it back.

That’s all I got

#winter king #simon petrikov #ice king #fionna and cake

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jiraisupportgroup · 4 months ago

Note

why do you get to sit in your heated home with daddy’s money and tell everyone who can and can’t wear jirai kei?

I don’t usually respond to stuff like this, especially because I’m fairly certain this was just ripped from a popular j-fashion creators video, but:

I feel like I make it quite clear that when I talk about jirai kei it’s just my opinions. I openly state that I’m likely a dumbass and you should take my word with a grain of salt considering I’m not a spokesperson for the Jirai Kei community, I’m not an expert on Jirai Kei, I also don’t speak Japanese so I can’t rly access a lot of “OG” jirai kei content that launched the community.

Additionally: I’ve never stated that anyone can’t wear anything. The closest I’ve gotten to that is when I state that I don’t generally believe “jirai kei” is the appropriate term for the fashion (therefore you can’t rly “wear it” if we want to be super technical) or when I said that “fashion jirais” who complain about the community can fuck off.

Never at any point in that did I say that anyone can’t wear anything. If you want to wear girly kei or dark girly or larme or ryousangata or whatever the fuck you want to wear - by all means please do. My main point is if you don’t like the jirai kei community, don’t interact with it. You can post coords and find friends and have a lot of fun with the clothing if that’s want you want to do. You can buy Liz Lisa & MCM bags and generally live your best ryousangata life. You don’t have to interact with the jirai kei community to do that. Block the people you find annoying. Block tags, block accounts, block whatever you don’t want to see. No one is going to be mad at you for not wanting to interact with the “dark side” of jirai kei (as people love to call it for some reason) UNLESS you’re adamantly saying “the dark side is wrong” and then using a shitload of jirai-related tags. Other tags for these clothes exist. Separate the two if you want, I don’t give a fuck; jirai kei doesn’t own the clothing.

I’m not going to sit here and outright defend people in the jirai kei community posting people’s coords and bullying them, I’m not gunna sit here and defend the fatphobic or racist things that have been said on jirai kei twt. I will point out that those posts are not actually super common in the jirai kei community, and the people that post them generally aren’t very well liked by other landmines either, they also tend to be very young. It’s a really big community. There are going to be “bad apples” especially because it’s a community based around mental health issues. You can’t look at that handful of posts and say “the entire community is toxic and awful”. Venting & the like are very common, but it’s pretty rare that I see people actively posting hate like that, and there is a huge difference between the two. Most of the landmines I see are too scared to even make vague callout posts. Maybe that’s just Tumblr, idk, but honestly the amount of hate I see in this community is rather small.

Secondarily to your point; my house is not fucking heated. I can barely afford to run the AC in the summer or the heat in the winter - typically I turn it on when my BF is here and turn it off when he leaves to save money. I have my own apartment. I work for my own apartment. I can barely fucking afford it. I make about $2700 a month and my bills add up to be about $2400 a month (and it’s not like an expensive or nice apartment it’s literally full of roaches and my oven doesn’t work). I usually end up spending about $100 of the leftover on cat food, and then have $200 left over for gas to get to work AND food AND toiletries for the MONTH.

I don’t have “daddy’s money”. I live by myself about 8 hours away from my family; they don’t have shit to send me. My dad died 3 years ago and left us with 50k in debt because he decided paying taxes was optional. When that happened - I was making 17.50 an hour and I had the HIGHEST WAGE out of anyone in my family. I was trying to finish college which I was attending on a scholarship bc I couldn’t fucking afford it, I was working overtime, trying to organize my dad’s funeral bc no one else in my family could do it, and paying tax payments. “Daddy’s money” was a negative sum. I frequently send leftover cash to my family if there is any just to help them in any way I can.

The cute and nice things I can afford are typically bought either because I pick up overnight shifts at my secondary serving job or from sugar daddies. Although I stopped sugaring about 3 years ago.

I started working when I was 15. I started SW when I was 17 to help my family pay rent. I did SW from about 17 years old to 21 and stopped shortly after my father died because I didn’t have the time anymore. And I fucking hated it but it made money.

Don’t fucking come at me saying I’ve got a nice house and daddy’s money when I’m sitting in a roach-infested apartment that I work myself to the fucking bone for & I spent multiple years trying to pay off my dad’s debt.

Fuck right off with that dude.

#tw sex work #tw death #tw swearing #Mara deep lore #mara is yapping #jiraiblr #landmineblr #jirai kei #landmine kei #mara fell for the rage bait #asks #anon

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inkwolvesandcoffee · 1 year ago

Text

Just Papa Solomons Things

Visiting Scotland with your dove

TH Masterlist

Even though you don’t want to

Alfie’s not a fan of Scotland. Not because of the people or the culture.

No, it’s because everything, right, is on a fucking mountain!

Or so he claims regardless of whether you’re walking to Old Town in Edinburgh via Princes Street, going up the gentle sloping pathway on Calton Hill, are trying to hike up to King Arthur’s Seat in Holyrood Park, or are walking down (I repeat, DOWN) the Royal Mile.

And that’s only in Edinburgh.

It honestly makes you wonder why he decided to tag along, especially since you’ve also planned to explore the rugged north. Then again, you know your grumpy partner well enough to be aware that part of the reason he’s with you is to offer protection.

Truth be told, Alfie gets bloody anxious when you’re on a trip by yourself. Enough so to disregard the issues he has with his leg. Your needs come before his. That’s “non-fucking-negotiable, mate”.

Fortunately, well, for him, the amount of solo trips has drastically reduced since you started dating. He still gives you plenty of space to do things on your own, but it makes him feel better knowing he’s nearby should anything happen.

And it’s nice because now you have him to drive you around so you don’t have to make use of public transport (depends on where you two are, though), watch your luggage when going to the restroom (again, if applicable), and hold your hand as winter casts the streets in dusk as early as four in the evening.

Another added bonus is that you get to stay in the most comfortable and sometimes downright fanciest hotels. Alfie might be frugal, having been raised that way, but he doesn’t want to do you short. Plus, having the finances, he doesn’t mind occasionally splurging a little bit if it concerns spending time together.

Now, Papa Solomons hates the cold and becomes snappy when the heating isn’t on in your coach in the train to Inverness.

“‘S bad for me sciatica. Also ain’t good for your health. They better get the heating here or I’ll make them. My cane should be plenty conviction.”

When one of the staff members walks by, Alfie beckons them over. However, before he can so much as open his mouth, you place your hand on his arm.

He glances over his shoulder, rolls his eyes with an irritated sigh as you shake your head, and clears his throat to politely inquire about the state of the heating in a strained voice. “You see, mate, my wonderful missus is gettin’ cold and we can’t ‘ave that, can we? If she starts getting the heavy shakes between let’s say now and ten minutes, I’ll personally come turn the fucking system on, right. Do you understand?”

With a stammered “y-yes, sir” and frantic nod, the attendant is off.

Three minutes later, you feel the coach warming up. Alfie leans back, eyes closed, his fingers entwined with yours. “Much better. Fucking trains. Don’t like ‘em.”

You kiss his cheek. “Thank you for not using your cane.”

“Mhm, doin’ it only for you.”

And he does. Alfie tries to reign himself in whenever he’s with you, afraid of showing you the always seething rage beneath his skin, the wrath inside looking for a way out. So, while he hasn’t discussed it yet with you and remains highly skeptical about how much good it’ll do, he’s thinking about anger management therapy or taking classes in it.

If only so he won’t turn into his father.

So he can love you properly.

So he can settle with you.

Albeit perhaps not in the place he’s envisioned.

It all happens on a day trip you booked for the two of you.

Perhaps it’s the way he sees how enamoured you are by the language, the way your eyes light up when hearing about local folklore, the strange familiarity he feels when the Norse history of Skye is mentioned while you’re at his side.

Maybe it’s the glamour of the faeries.

Whatever it is, it makes him want to stay on Skye with you.

He doesn’t mention it while you’re having lunch at Relish in Portree, but Alfie can’t stop envisioning having a little bakery in a town like this. He’d leave London and Margate behind, settle here, and live out whatever days remain for him in the peace and quiet of the island.

On the long drive back, he lets you snuggle up to him for warmth and to function as your pillow. He only wakes you up once when you stop in Broadford for refreshments, gently forcing you to get out of the van and accompany him to the Co-Op to get a semi-decent dinner and snacks.

It’s safe to say, for its rarely any different, Alfie pays for everything. “‘S what I’m supposed to do, innit? Good men take care of their wi- women.”

Despite his stoic expression and casual tone, meant to dismiss the slip of the tongue, the quick glance to check your reaction is telling. He knows he fucked up, played his cards too fast, too rashly.

You catch it, but decide to willfully ignore it. Instead, you take a sip of coffee. “Let’s go back to the bus.”

Nevertheless, once you’re back at the hotel, he goes nearly feral. It’s similar to what overtakes him every summer, but now it’s driven by the desire to claim your unbearable cuteness, completely under the spell of the magic that seems to surround you, lingering.

There’s a precarious balance when it comes to how vocal Alfie is in bed. Some days he’ll guide you to your orgasm without a single silence, each word pointed and full of purpose. Other days, the only thing he can do is growl and grunt, lost in the pleasure you grant him and vice versa, but also in the way his brain is finally off. No schemes, no secrets nor hidden motifs. Only the simple act of fucking.

Nonetheless, this is perhaps one of the few times you’ve heard him beg. Desperate and blunt, no polish to his utterances yet crystal clear diamonds compared to the muttering meant to confuse.

“Marry me, eh? Let’s, fuck, hm, yeah settle,” he murmurs in between kisses, which grow sloppier as his thrusts get more and more erratic. “Settle with me. Be Mrs Solomons. Want, hrm, need my wife. Only you. Want. Want you. Only you.” He pulls your hair so you’ll bare your neck to him. Lovingly he bites the skin, the sting and burning warmth heated by the words spilling from his lips. “Please, dove, please. Marry me.”

He doesn’t need a spoken answer, just the mere fantasy you say ‘yes’ and the way you look when he’s inside you, especially as you come undone because of him, is enough to send him over the edge with you.

As you’re basking in the afterglow, Alfie caresses your arm. His fingers slowly slide over your skin, lost in thought, wandering in the chaos reigning in his head until he’s found the words to start the conversation. Or, rather, to tell you what’s been on his mind since the afternoon, the wee bakery on Skye.

There are no words for the bleakness washing over him as you frown, taken completely unawares by his attitude. It’s unlike him to be this spontaneous, without a plan. “Alfie, don’t be rash. It doesn’t suit you. Come up with a business plan first. Is it viable? Would we manage to get by? It won’t be like London.”

“I know, but…” he groans, reluctant to admit he’s in the wrong, “you’re right, dove. Silly, ain’t ‘e, this old man and ‘is fantasies.”

“You’re not old.”

“Older than you. Old enough to be-“

You shut him up with a kiss. “No, none of this. I love you for who you are. I’m proud to be Papa’s little dove.”

“Would you one day be ‘is wife?”

You furrow your brow, wondering where this is coming from. That is, until you recall his pleading in his sex drunk stupour. “You meant that?”

He nods. “Mhm. Maybe not the proper way to ask, but I mean it. This, ‘ere, right, between us, I want it to be long term.” Voice lowered and steady blue eyes filling with the fight between panic, disbelief, and determination, he asks the question that makes him grow pale. “It is, innit?”

“It is, don’t worry.”

He cups your cheek and pulls you towards him to rest his forehead against yours. A tapered breath escapes him, shivery and frail. “Stay with me.”

You run your fingers through his beard, a burden falling off of your shoulders as you see him relax. Though you appreciate Alfie’s occasional openness, when he shows his struggles you can’t help but feel your own heart crack.

Then again, that’s Love.

For whatever our souls are made of, if we’re lucky, we find one that’s compatible. That’s the same.

“I won’t go anywhere without telling you.”

“Don’t go at all without me.”

You feel something wet warm your hand as you kiss his forehead. The sensation moves to your chest when Alfie rests his head on it. His arms wrapped around your waist in a fierce bear hug, you run your fingers through his hair, weaving them through his messy brown locks.

Alfie rarely if ever allows himself to show his vulnerabilities. Nevertheless, when he’s around you and alone like this, he does. And it still stuns him you stay at his side, that you haven’t run from, in his words, “tainted bein’, uglier than a golem”.

But how could you? How could you leave a man as doting and loving as him? Sure, Alfie’s gruff and a little rough-handed at times, even to you, but you know he tries not to be.

Sleet gently ticks against the window, filling the silence in the hotel room. As per usual on nights like this, you use it to calm the both of you down.

Until your skin is tear-stained.

Both your hearts cracked a little more.

And Alfie’s asleep.

Tag list: @potter-solomons @zablife @vir-tual @hecatemoon87 @dreamlandcreations @liliac-dreamer @rose-like-the-phoenix @hoodeddreams13 @buttercupsandboys @solomons-finest-rum @wandawiccan60 @mollybegger-blog @babaohhhriley

#Alfie Solomons #Alfie Solomons imagine #Peaky Blinders #Peaky Blinders imagine #Alfie Solomons x Reader

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year ago

Text

Me & You & Everyone We Know | Chapter 14 | S.R

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter Summary - When Spencer’s drinking gets out of control, he reaches out to a friend for help. He makes a series of decisions for the sake of his own mental health.

Pairing - Single Dad! Spencer Reid / Fem! Reader

Category - hurt/comfort, angst with happy ending, smut minors DNI.

A/N - I don’t know how finals work so I just made it up. Also questions detailed for Spencer’s therapy are taken from real life therapy questionnaires.

Warnings - arguing, drinking, drunk Spencer, one night stand, mentions of protective sex, swearing, slight alcohol abuse, AA meetings, mention of past drug addiction, therapists, talk of depression, Spencer gets angry at Taco, mentions of dog urine and faeces, therapy questionnaires, mentions of affairs and divorce, mentions of schizophrenia.

WC - 5.7k

Chapter 14 - Forever Winter

He says he doesn't believe anything much he hears these days,

He says, "Why fall in love, just so you can watch it go away?"

He spends most of his nights wishing it was how it used to be,

He spends most of his flights getting pulled down by gravity.

Professor Monroe did not return to work on Monday and so Spencer had to spend another week with you.

It was finals week which meant longer hours, more time having to be spent together. It made the long, awkward silences more uncomfortable, the withering looks more grating.

He tried to focus on the fact two days after he’d put in the offer on the house it had been accepted, and less than twelve hours after that he’d agreed an offer on his own home.

Between finals, the tension with you and getting the ball rolling with his house sale and purchase, Spencer was stretched extremely thin.

He still tried to give his all to his girls but his evenings were spent with papers and forms and all kinds of other legal nonsense that Maeve had taken care of last time.

Honestly, he was exhausted. And it didn’t help matters that every time he saw you his heart shattered a little more.

He thankfully made it through the last week of the semester with his sanity still just about in check. He was packing up his office for the summer when there was a knock at his door.

“Come in,” he stood up straight as the door opened and you tentatively walked inside.

You clutched your purse close like it was your only lifeline.

“Was there anything else you needed before I head out?” You asked politely, but there was a hint of frustration in your voice.

“Uh no I don’t think so. Have a good summer I guess.” He replied, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

You nodded curtly and turned back to the door but before you could leave Spencer spoke again.

“Do you want to maybe grab a coffee? I’d really like to just clear the air.”

Your back straightened as you slowly turned back to him.

“I, uh…I have plans.” You shrugged, rolling your lip between your teeth.

Your facial expression told Spencer all the things you weren’t saying.

“Oh,” he croaked. “You have a date?”

“Not a date…not really. I’m just having dinner with a guy I went to college with. S’not a big deal.” You continued gnawing on your lip.

“Wow, good to see you’ve bounced back so fast.” His lips drew into a tight line and he grabbed his satchel off the desk, swinging it over his shoulder and heading for the door,

“It’s not like that.” You huffed, holding your hands out to stop him as he went to pass you.

“Sure it’s not.” He rolled his eyes. “So while I’ve been missing you every second of every day you’ve been reconnecting with an old college “friend”. Super, just super.”

You grabbed him by the shoulders when he tried to pass you again and shoved him backwards a little.

“You don’t get to do this,” you spat. “You don’t get to be mad at me for moving on. We broke up because you’re in love with someone else, Spencer! What am I supposed to do? Pine over you? Make myself miserable and wallow because you didn’t love me the way I love you? You don’t have the right to be mad, Spencer.”

“I have the right to be whatever I want to be.” He bit back. “Clearly you didn’t love me as much as you claimed to if you can move on so fast. I was married for a long time, I’m allowed to have complicated feelings about that. But my feelings for my ex in no way diminished my feelings for you. There’s no rule book on love Y/N. Just because I still love my ex-wife doesn’t mean I don’t also love you. Have a good summer, and have a wonderful time with your college friend.”

He pushed past you and you let him go. He swung open the door so aggressively it bounced on its hinges and hit the wall. You stepped out into the corridor after him and couldn’t stop yourself yelling after him.

“Go to hell Doctor Reid!”

You saw him slow his pace briefly, as though he might turn back and reply but he didn’t. He forced himself to keep walking.

And once he was out of sight, your first tear escaped your eye.

***

The music thrummed through the speakers, vibrating down the walls, through the floorboards and up through the soles of his shoes.

It pulsed and pumped like a frantically beating heart, filling his veins with a nervous energy which manifested in his constantly jiggling left leg and fingers drumming against the table top.

His free hand which wasn’t tapping the table was grasped around his glass as he raised it to his lips and swallowed down the amber liquid.

He slammed the empty glass back on the table and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I’m getting another drink.” He yelled to be heard over the music and went to stand but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“I think you’ve had enough, Reid.” Emily replied just as loudly.

“Weren’t you quitting drinking anyway?” JJ asked him.

“I thought this was supposed to be fun. I’m not having fun.” He groaned.

After dropping the girls at Maeve’s he’d called JJ and asked if he could come over, not wanting to be alone.

She’d informed him it was girls night, she, Emily, Penelope and Tara were going out to a club on one of their rare Friday nights off.

The next thing she’d known, Spencer had invited himself along.

He was four scotch’s deep and it was already going to his head. All four women were incredibly worried about him.

“What if we dance? Dancing’s fun.” Penelope tried.

“I hate dancing.” Spencer shook his head. “I’m getting another drink.”

This time when he got up no one tried to stop him. The four women exchanged glances as he pushed his way through the crowds towards the bar.

“I’m worried about him.” JJ shook her head sadly.

“Me too.” Garcia agreed.

“He just needs to blow off some steam. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” Tara shrugged, sipping her wine. “Not much of a ladies night.”

“Let’s go dance while he’s distracted.” Emily suggested and the others nodded in agreement.

Spencer didn’t see them go, too busy trying to get the bartender's attention. His head was spinning and he felt like he could taste the music, it was so loud.

But the more he drank, the less he thought about you and your date-not-a-date. The more scotch he consumed the less he pictured you rolling around in bed with some college friend you’d never mentioned before.

The more alcohol he indulged in, the less his heart felt like it was breaking.

He ordered his drink and took a large sip of it, relishing in the way the alcohol burned as it slid down his throat.

When he turned away from the bar there was a set of large brown eyes staring right at him.

The woman the eyes belonged to was tall and curvaceous, shoulder length blonde hair and a smile directed right at him.

She moved closer to him, her hips swaying as she walked. When she reached him, she placed her hands on his shoulders, moving her face close to his ear so she could be heard when she spoke.

“Hi,” she breathed against his ear. “I’m Lauren.”

“Spencer,” he replied, his free hand finding purchase on her hip.

“I saw you with that group of women, one of them your girlfriend?”

“Nope, no. Just friends. No girlfriend.” He swallowed, his hand gripping the glass shaking a little.

“That’s good to know.” She giggled, pulling away from his ear and looking down at his lips which were parted slightly.

He knew this was a terrible idea, so far past terrible in fact. But he also couldn’t help himself. Lauren was beautiful, seductive and clearly interested in him. And maybe she was just what he needed to take his mind off of things.

He raised his drink to his lips and downed it, placing the empty on the bar behind him. One hand still on her hip, his now free one cupped her cheek, brushing his fingertips against her skin.

“You got a problem with me kissing you?” He smiled at her.

“Not at all.” She smiled back before he was soon slamming their lips together.

The last thing Spencer remembered before the alcohol took over was grabbing her by the hand and leading her towards the door, the two of them fleeing together into the night.

***

By the fourth time Taco barked, Spencer forced his eyes open. The mangy dog was sitting on the floor next to his bed, glaring at his owner with his beady little eyes.

“Go away,” Spencer grumbled, his head immediately starting to throb. “You aren’t going to starve. Just need a little more sleep.”

He pulled the duvet over his head and ignored Taco when he barked twice more. He groaned into his pillow, his stomach turning and head pounding.

Taco barked again and Spencer half considered getting up just to kick the dog until he was silent. But the dog was the least of his concerns.

“Can you shut that thing up?” A female voice came from behind him and Spencer sat up and whipped around so fast the whole room spun.

Her blonde hair was tangled on the pillow and the sheet was slung around her waist, her bare chest on display.

“What the fuck?” He panted, lifting the sheet and looking down at his own naked body beneath it. “Oh fuck, did we? Shit!”

He lept out of bed and the woman grumbled while he tried to locate his boxers.

“Why are you being so loud?” She whined.

He found his underwear and pulled them on before turning back to her.

“You need to leave, now.” He told her, her eyes fluttering open.

“Well that’s rude.” She pulled the sheet over her body.

“This shouldn’t have happened. We shouldn’t have…fuck!” He raked his fingers through his hair. “Did we use protection?”

Lauren sat up against the pillows, eyes blurry and hair messy.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I was as drunk as you were.”

“Are you on the pill?” He glared at her.

“Yes.” She huffed,

“But you don’t know if we used a condom? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck I’m such a fucking idiot.” He started pacing, hunting the room for a used condom or a ripped packet.

“What is your problem?” She groaned, rubbing her eyes and causing her mascara to flake.

“My problem? My problem!” He raised his voice even though it hurt his head to do so. “My problem is I have two kids that were born from a combination of too much alcohol and forgotten condoms. Fuck, how could I be so stupid?”

“You have kids?” She frowned.

“Yes! Why do you think I live in this giant suburban hell hole?” He continued to search the room.

Lauren glanced around the room, she hadn’t noticed last night how feminine his bedroom was.

“Jesus Christ, you didn’t tell me you were married!” She spat, swinging her legs out of the bed.

“I’m not married. I said I have kids.” He found the trash can in the corner and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the used condom sitting on top. “Oh thank fuck.”

“You’re telling me a woman doesn’t live here?” She scoffed, locating her clothes and starting to dress.

“A woman used to live here, I haven’t decorated. I’m moving out…it doesn’t matter. None of that matters. You need to leave.”

“Don’t worry I’m going.” Lauren dressed as quickly as she could. “I did not sign up for this.”

She was soon throwing her heels back on and found her purse tossed on the dressing table which she grabbed before leaving the room. Spencer followed her, still wearing only his underwear and motioned her downstairs towards the front door.

“I, uh, I don’t mean to be an asshole,” he swallowed as he unlocked the door. “I really wasn’t in the right frame of mind last night. I’m sorry.”

“Whatever,” Lauren clucked as the door opened. “It is what it is.”

She weaved past him and out of the door, heading down the front steps as the gate opened and someone started up the path. Spencer closed his eyes and leant back against the door jamb.

He didn’t watch as you encountered the scantily dressed blonde halfway down the path. He refused to look as you gave her a once over and as Lauren rolled her eyes.

“I thought you said a woman didn’t live here?” Lauren called back to him.

Spencer’s eyes shot open and he looked guiltily between you and her.

“It’s not…I know this looks bad but it’s not…” He groaned, wanting the world to swallow him whole.

“Wear a ring, asshole!” Lauren spat and before he could explain, she was strutting away on her too high heels.

You glared at him from the path, not wanting to come any closer as the rage bubbling through your veins might cause you to physically hurt him.

“Hi,” he shrugged meekly. “I really wish you’d shown up like, two minutes later.”

“You really are something else, aren’t you?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You called me sixteen times last night, left me five voicemails telling me how much you missed me and now I show up here and see some bimbo leaving your house? Jesus Christ, Spencer, seriously?”

“I…sixteen times?” He frowned, he didn’t remember calling you once let alone sixteen times.

“Yes,” You nodded, taking a few tentative steps closer. “I even left dinner earlier, I walked out on a nice evening with an uncomplicated, charming man. And I actually came here today because I thought, maybe, maybe we could work on things. And then I see her leaving and it certainly doesn’t take a genius to figure out what happened between the two of you.”

He followed your gaze when you gestured up and down his nearly naked frame. He grimaced, wrapping his arms around his torso as his cheeks flushed.

“I was…drunk. Really drunk and I made a really bad judgement call. But in my defence, I was upset, ok? I was sad and so I drank and I couldn’t stop thinking about you and your college friend and I figured a one night stand might take my mind off of things.” He shrugged with a deep sigh. “It didn’t mean anything, I swear.”

“I don’t care, Spencer.” You shook your head. “I’m glad I saw her actually, because now I know it was a huge mistake coming here. We were never going to be able to work things out. Your one night stand saved me from more heartbreak.”

“Just come inside, let's talk.”

“No.” You shook your head, taking a few steps backwards.

“Y/N, please?” He begged, stepping out of his house.

“No, no. I shouldn’t have come here in the first place. I have to go.” You continued walking backwards while Spencer carried on towards you.

You bumped into the gate and quickly turned to open it.

“Y/N, wait, please!” He hurried towards you, but you were already back on the street, running towards your car. “Y/N! Wait….please? Fuck!”

He yelled, running his fingers through his hair. He glanced across the street where his neighbour who had been tending to her yard was staring at him. Of course she was, he was the crazy man screaming after a woman wearing nothing but his boxers.

“Morning Mrs Lopez.” He offered a tight lipped smile and meek wave before turning away from her and retreating back inside.

Once the door was closed he fell back against it, shaking his head at his own stupidity. Just when things seemed to be as bad as they could get, he kept making them worse. He couldn’t seem to do anything right lately.

Drinking as much as he was certainly wasn’t helping matters. He thought he’d had it under control but maybe he was wrong.

He was falling apart at the seams. He needed to do something, needed to make a change before his anger and his sadness ripped his whole life apart. If he continued on this self-destructive path he could lose everything, his girls included.

And they deserved more from him.

It was time he took a good, long look in the mirror and made a change. It was time for Spencer Reid to start thinking about himself and make some drastic changes before his life wound up upside down.

No more drinking. He had to put a stop to that before it had a chance to escalate, he knew all too well the perils of addiction.

He dragged himself back upstairs and found his cell phone, pulling up his contacts and locating her number. He sat on the edge of the bed while it rang a few times, soon her breezy voice was carrying down the line.

“Reid, hi. Where did you go last night, we were worried about you?”

“I’m fine, everything’s fine.” He tried to placate her but then he sighed. “Actually that’s not true. Nothing is fine.”

“What’s wrong?” She quickly panicked down the line.

“I need your help.” He sniffed, his eyes welling with tears. “I hate to have to ask you this with your history with your ex, but I don’t know who else to ask. I can’t keep on like this, I really need to get sober. Would you…would you go to a meeting with me?”

There was a pause of silence while his words sunk in and he worried briefly she would shoot him down. But soon enough she was speaking.

“Of course I will, Reid. Of course I will.” Tara Lewis replied, that calming tone of hers wrapping him in a comforting blanket.

“Thank you Tara. Thank you so much.” He sniffed again, a few tears escaping.

“I’ll have a look online and find something nearby ok? I’ll text you the details.”

“Ok,” He nodded, closing his eyes. “Tara?”

“Yes Reid?”

“Please don’t tell anyone. They’ll only worry.”

Tara didn’t think it would help him to hear how worried they all were about him already. Instead she agreed and soon they were both hanging up the phone.

***

It had been over fifteen years since Spencer set foot in some kind of meeting. Back then, when he’d been going through his dilaudid addiction, he’d attended a few meetings at Beltway Clean Cops. This was his first time going to such a place with civilians.

But he’d been a civilian himself now for a long time, so he guessed it made sense.

He spent most of it sitting in the back with Tara, clutching her hand while others spoke. Towards the end she encouraged him to go up and speak.

Despite his awkwardness, public speaking had never phased him much. Not usually anyway. But standing up at that podium and having to talk in front of a room full of addicts was one of the most nerve wracking experiences of his life.

He made eye contact with Tara who gave him a soft smile and a nod of motivation.

“Uh, hi, I’m Spencer.” He began, not taking his eyes off of Tara.

“Hi Spencer.” The room spoke in unison.

“I, uh…I suppose I’m here because I have a problem. I don’t want to use the word addiction because I don’t think I’m at that stage yet but it’s certainly heading that way.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “Years ago I had a problem with dilaudid, I haven’t used in over fifteen years. I don’t know that I can say I was sober though, because I still drank from time to time.

Over the last year that drinking has gotten heavier. For a long time I didn’t think of alcohol the same as I did dilaudid, it seemed so harmless in comparison. But I think I’ve started replacing one vice with another and if I don’t stop drinking entirely it is going to get to a point where I can’t stop.

I have two kids, two little girls and I am their primary caregiver. Lily is seven and Daisy is fourteen and old enough to know that I am struggling. Their mom and I were married for thirteen years before she dropped a bombshell that she’d been having an affair for three years. I guess I’ve not been the same since. On the weekends I don’t have my girls, I tend to drink to numb the pain.

I know I need to make a change, even if only for my daughter’s. So I came here in the hopes of quitting drinking before it’s too late for me.”

He took a deep breath once he was finished. He hadn’t planned to say all of that but he found when he started talking he couldn’t stop.

Tara was smiling at him with pride and she started to clap which caused the rest of the room to join in.

Spencer felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment and he averted his gaze down to the podium. He hurried away while the applause continued and kept his eyes on the floor as he made his way back to his seat.

As soon as he sat down, Tara took hold of his hand and he glanced at her. She was smiling brightly at him and if he wasn’t mistaken, he swore she had tears in her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you.” She mouthed at him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

He smiled in thanks and turned back to face the front as another speaker took to the podium.

Truth be told, he was proud of himself too.

***

Tara took him for lunch after the meeting and he regaled her with all the sorry details of what happened after he left the bar last night, including you showing up at his house. She listened patiently, giving input where necessary and never once judging him.

After they ate, they went for a walk in the park for a while until it got a little too hot and they found a bench in the shade of a large tree.

“A while ago you mentioned to me about seeing a therapist.” He spoke without looking at her. “I think it’s probably a good idea.”

“I have some friends in the field, I can give you some numbers.” She watched the side of his face.

“Yes please, that would be helpful.” He played with his hands in his lap, slowly turning his head to look at Tara. “You know, Daisy asked me if I was depressed and I honestly think that’s the first time I’d ever really thought about it before. That’s what this is right? Depression.”

“Most likely.” She nodded slowly. “But I think with the right combination of therapy and medication you’ll be just fine, Spencer.”

“You think it gets better?” He asked, rolling his lip between his teeth somewhat violently.

“I know it will get better.” She took hold of his hand once more and held it tightly. “You’ve had a rough time, life has not been kind to you. But you deserve to be happy again and you will be.”

“Thank you.” He sniffed.

“For what?”

“For today, for everything really. If it weren’t for you and the team and my girls, I would have crumbled a long time ago.”

“If you ever do crumble,” Tara squeezed his hand. “You can be assured we will all be there to help you pick up the pieces. That’s what family is for.”

A tear escaped his eye and he was quick to bat it away. Tara continued to hold his hand while they sat in silence, watching the world pass them by from the park bench.

When they parted ways, she gave him some numbers of therapists and he promised to call her if he felt the need to drink again. He had to admit he felt a little lighter by the time he returned home that evening.

But then he walked in his door.

In the state he’d been in that morning he had forgotten that leaving his shit for brain’s dog alone all day would be a terrible idea. He’d also forgotten to feed the mangy thing. And boy had Taco protested.

His couch was almost entirely ripped to shreds, the leather fabric clawed and scratched apart. The one remaining couch cushion Taco hadn’t already destroyed was now ruined, in a pile of fluff on the floor.

He’d knocked over the coat rack and torn apart Spencer’s favourite navy blue pea coat. The coat rack had clearly knocked into the wall and left a dent behind, one more mark he would have to fix before he moved.

On top of that there was a yellow urine stain in the middle of the living room and as Spencer moved further into the house he found Taco had also defecated at the bottom of the stairs.

He ignored the mess and the dog, because if he didn’t he might actually strangle the mutt, and headed through to the kitchen. He opened the back door and Taco sprinted into the yard.

He put food down for the moronic creature, wanting nothing more than to open the back gate and let the dog run free, he could tell the girls he accidentally got out. He cleaned up the pile of faeces in the hall and scrubbed the carpet of urine.

He left the back door open while he trudged upstairs and was met with yet more destruction caused by the dog.

Thankfully Daisy and Lily’s bedroom doors had been left shut but he’d failed to do the same with his own. One of his pillows had met the same fate as the couch cushion. He’d managed somehow to get the book off of Spencer’s nightstand and torn that to shreds, ripped pages littering his bed.

He’d turned the trash can upside down and the used condom was laying in the middle of the room.

“Gross, so gross.” Spencer groaned, picking up the garbage, condom included and throwing it back in the trash. “I swear to god I am going to put you down myself, Taco.”

In his ensuite, Taco had pulled his towel off of the back of the door and urinated on it.

He snatched it up and marched downstairs where he tossed the soiled towel into the washing machine. Taco was back inside, happily eating his kibble without a care in the world.

“Something needs to change.” He spat at the dog even though he couldn’t understand him. “I am not putting up with this.”

Taco, not surprisingly, didn’t reply, instead carried on eating.

Spencer closed the back door and slumped through to his living room, falling down on his trashed couch.

He pulled out his cell phone and typed a quick text message.

📲 To: Luke Alvez - Hey man, I don’t suppose you know any good dog trainers? This fucking creature is going to be the death of me.

He hit send, before pulling out the list of names Tara had given him earlier. She’d put a little star next to one name in particular who she thought would be a good fit for Spencer.

Before he could change his mind, he dialled the number.

“Hello, you’ve reached the office of Doctor Maria Sanchez, Hannah speaking, how may I help?” A chipper female voice came down the line.

“Uh, hi. A friend of mine gave me Doctor Sanchez’s number. I’d like to make an appointment I guess.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

“Ok, sure. You’d need to fill out a questionnaire but if you give me an email address I can get that sent over to you. You can just email it right back and Doctor Sanchez will review it and be in touch.”

Spencer exhaled before reeling off his email address. A few minutes later he was hanging up. A reply from Luke awaited him.

📱 Do I know any good dog trainers? You offend me, Reid. Who do you think trained Roxy? I’d be happy to help corral your pup. Just been called in on a case but I’ll hit you up when I’m back.

He put his phone down and exhaled deeply. He was starting to make strides. He was moving house, he’d gone to his first meeting, he was looking into a therapist and sorting out his nightmare dog.

The next thing on the agenda was to buy a new couch.

***

The following morning he opened his computer in his office and faced a four page pre-therapy questionnaire.

It started out simple enough, his name, date of birth occupation, current employer and his home address. Relatively straight forward stuff. The first set of questions were about his parents, what his childhood was like and a section to detail any siblings.

It wasn’t easy to fill out given his family history, but he managed it. It was the next section in which he started having issues.

If married, please give the name and age of your spouse and the date of your marriage. If you have been married before, please write the names of your former spouses(s) and the date(s) of that (those) marriage(s).

Briefly describe your marital relationship(s).

God-fucking-damnit.

He tried not to let himself think about what he was writing, just let his fingers glide across the keyboard without giving it too much thought. It was easy enough to type out her name and age and the date of their marriage. It was the second question he had difficulty with.

He swallowed thickly as he started to type in the allocated box.

I became separated from my wife over a year ago when she informed me she had been having a three year long affair. We later got divorced. Before her affair we had a good marriage, for the most part. I wasn’t always home a lot due to my job but we were happy I think. I guess that’s not true though because if that were true then she wouldn’t have cheated on me. We have not remained on good terms.

He started typing about his girls but then his eyes glanced at the next question and realised that was better saved, so he deleted that part and moved onto the next box.

Please give the names and ages of all children and stepchildren, whether or not they are living at home.

Daisy Reid, fourteen / Lily Reid, seven. They live at home with me and stay with their mother every other weekend.

He stopped typing to take a sip of coffee while he glanced at the next question.

Do you or anyone in your family have a history of depression or other mental illness? Were any ever hospitalised for this?

He closed his eyes and let out a staggered breath. He’d thought the actual therapy would be the hard part, this was supposed to be a walk in the park in comparison. He had another sip of coffee and began to type again.

My mother suffers from schizophrenia and I made the decision to institutionalise her when I was eighteen.

Short and simple. He didn’t want to dive too much into this. But then the next question almost forced him to shut the computer down entirely and retreat back to bed.

Have you or any member of your family ever had a problem of misusing alcohol or drugs? Who and for how long? Is there a current problem?

He let out another breath, shaking his head at the computer as if it was somehow the device's fault.

I had a problem with dilaudid between 2006 and 2007. I have been clean since but have recently realised I use alcohol as a coping mechanism. I am going to meetings and trying to get sober.

The following few questions were about his educational history and his physical health which were much easier to answer. The next section was about his concerns about therapy and what he hoped to achieve from it. All fairly straightforward.

The last section was a list of fifteen statements in which he was supposed to mark on a scale of 0 to 3 how often those problems had affected him in the last week, zero being none at all and three being severe. He took a breath and just tried to hurry through them.

Feeling lonely 3

Low motivation to get things done 2

Trouble concentrating 3

Fatigue 3

Worry 3

Trouble falling asleep 3

Awaking during the night with problems returning to sleep 3

Tension in shoulders, neck or chest 3

Irritability 3

Thoughts of ending your own life 0

Feeling guilty 3

Feeling hopeless 3

Feeling worthless 3

Sexual concerns 0

Body discomfort 0

At the very least he hadn’t answered three to all of them, he thought, grimacing at his answers. Before he could talk himself out of it he replied to the email and attached the form, hitting send and not letting himself dwell on the answers he’d given.

He sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee, knowing he needed to go out and buy a replacement couch before he picked the kids up tomorrow. He didn’t enjoy the idea of them seeing the destruction their stupid dog had caused.

It took him almost an hour of sitting at his desk, staring at the wall until he finally got his legs to cooperate and he stood up. Before he left the house he shut Taco in the kitchen, hoping to contain the mutt's cataclysmic behaviour.

And then he drove out to the district to a furniture store and reluctantly picked out a new couch, paying extra for the privilege of having it delivered the same day and for having them haul his old one off, before driving back home and waiting for them to show.

His therapy application played on his mind all day, that and the fact he really wanted a drink. He didn’t call Tara, not wanting to bother her while they were on a case and just hoping he could stave off his cravings until it was time to pick up Daisy and Lily.

@andiebeaword @measure-in-pain @muffin-cup @dreatine @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @justreadingficsdontmindme @spencer-reid-wonderland @thebloomingeagle @foxy-eva @kbakery @simxican @aysixdy @givemeth @loonalockley @shamelessfangirl-3 @redbulldinner @derekm24 @pinkiceee-prose @werewolfbansheelove @mindbelova @angelicasworld

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem! reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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arinzu · 5 months ago

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The angst story was great! İf that's okay with you can you please make an ending in which the reader doesn't forgive her big brothers? (If I was in the reader's place I wouldn't forgive them for what they did to my mental health and the wasted years that we could spend happily couldn't ever come back again.)

Omg tysm! and ofc

Part 1 l Part 2 l

Why should i forgive you...?

Summary : 23 years since you've been isekai'd to this universe, you had cut off the itoshi brothers out of your life. But they appear at your doorstep.

No ships! everything is platonic, angst, this is very messy, isekai'd reader!

Credits to the owners of the dividers! this fanfic style is from @chateaaa

You were peacefully trying to make another machine, the device you were making is a 'teleportation device', you note that if you continue to make the device at this rate while having a day off every week.

You'll be able to finish it in your early 30's...

It's much more complicated than making the time travel machine, you had to make in pocket size fot to use government at will.

You suddenly heard your doorbell rang, you were suspicious so you got your security cameras and zoom in towards the front door.

'...'

'What the...'

'Why the fuck are they here!?' you scream to yourself internally, shock by seeing the itoshi brothers infront of your doorstep.

You took off your lab coat and started running towards the front door, your mind started racing with possibilities on what they will say to you.

it seems the hallways is massive the more you ran towards the front door. Most of all you felt nauseous.

But the thing... that is how did they find you?

You remember after you graduated collage you dyed your hair, wear contact lenses.

And even change your legal name to something else, it's all so they wouldn't find you and can't contact you, it's all because to not felt what you felt that winter night.

You didn't even notice that you were already at the door.

'What should i do?'

'Maybe i should pretend to not know them.'

'it could be by coincidence...'

You opened the door with a smile.

"good day, i'm-"

"Cut the crap (reader)'' One of the brothers spoke up.

You stayed silent surprise by sae's vulgar statement, you froze up but still giving a smile.

"I think your at the wrong house, there's no reader in this house."

"We know it's you (reader)"

You saw no point to keep your act up, you drop the smile and started to glare at them, they took it by surprise they didn't expect your reaction at all.

You tried to hold yourself back but you were only human.

"What do you what from me? the person you felt disgusted to" You ask them crossing your arms.

They were taller than when you last saw them, if you remember correctly the blue lock project ended a few years ago.

Rin is 24 while Sae is 26 but they didn't look a day older than the last you saw them.

"(reader), were sorry for saying those things that night"

'Unbelievable' you thought to yourself, at least they apologize...

"You didn't deserve what we did to you" rin added, his face looking guilty.

You nodded and tried to slam the door in their faces, you couldn't stand looking at them for another moment longer. A feeling you never wanted to experience while with them, disgust.

"Hey wait!" rin shouted out once he notice you were about to close the door.

"What?" you asked stopping yourself from shutting the door.

"Can you forgive us?"

"No." you responded, as they were about to to replied you cut them off.

"First of all i can't just forgive, i will never forgive you for what you have done to me. "

"Did you know how much time i wasted trying to mend our relationship!?"

You finely blew up on them. All your anger and frustration aimed towards them.

"Second of all, i despite you both for being the one who cause me pain, i had to get therapy because of you both."

"I like you both as people, i respect you both as being one of the most best people at football. But i hate you both for being my older brothers."

"You both were right, your disgusted of me being your little sister, while im disgusted calling you my older brothers."

"That's all to it, congrats on your guys wins, but we won't have a siblings relationship. Ever, goodbye itoshis"

You shut the door in their faces without a second thought, you breath a sigh of relief of finally letting all of your emotions go. You were harsh but atleast they seemed to understand your desicion.

Yup this is it, i think it was basic asf but tysm for requesting, i woke up at 1 pm when i saw your request at wrote this fic at 3 pm, i will prob not add another ending but if i get a request i will :D

#bllk #blue lock #bllk fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #itoshi sae #Itoshi brothers #itoshi angst

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covid-safer-hotties · 3 months ago

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Why Biden’s premature COVID ending could help it surge - Published Sept 23, 2022

Two years out from the publication of this article, and we can really see how true these warnings were. Why does the mainstream media and DNC refuse to do anything about forever covid?

This week, President Biden said what millions of Americans have been hoping to hear since the spring of 2020: “The pandemic is over.”

I understand the impulse to close the book and move on. But I am deeply concerned that this declaration is not only premature but also dangerous.

The SARS-CoV-2 virus has shown us, again and again, the danger of hubris. Think of the lethal impact of the omicron virus last winter, just when we were so grateful that the delta wave had ebbed. Think of the deadly surges this summer, just when we were planning our long-delayed vacations. This is a virus that has humbled us too often. We must approach it with humility.

This declaration has many damaging effects: As others have noted, it will now be even harder to persuade Americans to get the new bivalent boosters. It’ll be tougher to persuade Congress to fund essential COVID responses. And it will be nearly impossible for local officials to impose new indoor mask requirements should another surge arrive.

To be sure, Biden did acknowledge in his “60 Minutes” interview that “we still have a problem with COVID” and added that “we’re still doing a lot of work on it.” But he sandwiched that message between two flat declarations that the pandemic is over. Those are the soundbites that have reverberated most loudly, and they are decidedly unhelpful.

Dr. Tom Frieden, former director of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, has spoken often about how the U.S. has lurched from a cycle of panic to neglect when it comes to public health. Many of us in the field had hoped that the COVID-19 pandemic would break that cycle — a sliver of silver lining amid all the grief.

We had hoped that policymakers and voters alike would understand how essential it is to upgrade our data infrastructure, stockpile essential medicine and equipment, invest in preventive care for vulnerable populations, restructure our emergency response agencies and support an infusion of public health workers at the local and state levels. Surely, COVID would be the spur needed to finally bump U.S. spending on public health to more than 3 cents on the health care dollar.

By declaring the pandemic over when we are still very much in the thick of the fight, President Biden is undercutting that message.

Let’s look at where we are right now. The U.S. is still reporting close to 60,000 cases and 400 deaths each day. Millions are struggling with long COVID; by some estimates, this often debilitating condition is keeping 4 million adults out of work. Those at work may have less flexibility: Major companies are ending work-from-home policies and Starbucks announced this week that it will no longer give employees paid time off to isolate or get vaccinated. Biden’s remarks will only accelerate that trend.

Meanwhile, only 67 percent of Americans are vaccinated and only half of them have been boosted. While many of the remaining have some immunity from infection, the death toll makes clear that large swaths of the population remain highly vulnerable. And of course, new variants continue to emerge; right now, all eyes are on BA.2.75.2, a mutation of the omicron variant that is notably better at evading antibodies acquired from vaccination or prior infection and is spreading rapidly in India.

Declaring the pandemic over at this stage is tantamount to accepting all this misery as background noise.

And if we accept the status quo as background noise — rather than the urgent and immediate threat it represents — it’s nearly impossible to make the case that we need to do more as a society to protect the vulnerable, respond to surges, or prepare for future crises.

The Biden administration has made significant strides on COVID. It made tests, vaccines and treatments widely available across the country, which improved outcomes and saved lives. The vast majority of Americans feel we’re in a better place than at this time last year and many have returned, at least in large part, to normal activities.

It is an appropriate moment for our leaders to turn the page away from our wartime footing and begin a sober discussion about the next steps: the risks that remain, the importance of responding quickly to local surges, the value of supporting the Global South in building their own vaccine infrastructure — and the critical need to rebuild the battered and woefully outdated public health infrastructure in the U.S.

It is not the moment to declare victory.

John M. Barry, author of “The Great Influenza: The Story of the Deadliest Pandemic in History” has a stark warning from history. He writes that the world had largely moved on from the 1918 influenza pandemic when a fourth wave struck in 1920. By then, the U.S. had plenty of natural immunity from prior infection. Still, the virus spread ruthlessly. Public officials failed to respond. They, like the public, wanted the pandemic to be over — so the virus rolled on unchecked. In some cities, the death toll in 1920 exceeded the toll of the huge second wave.

We should not make the same mistake now. With humility as our watchword, we can move to the next chapter without closing the book. That is the way forward.

Michelle A. Williams is dean of the faculty of the Harvard T.H. Chan School of Public Health.

#covid #mask up #pandemic #covid 19 #wear a mask #coronavirus #sars cov 2 #public health #still coviding #wear a respirator #us politics #joe biden #democratic party

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bangtanfancamp · 2 years ago

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Headed to the Mountains |KNJ

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

•one shot

•Masterlist

•pairing: songwriter Kim Namjoon x oc with chronic pain

•word count: 3,465

•genre: escapism, hurt/comfort, smut, established relationship

•rating: MATURE/ 18+

•warnings: current event commentary, somewhat anti- American sentiment (I live in Texas so I see a lot of mess first hand 🫤 it’s my country but my god, it’s messy), stress, chronic pain, high sensitivity, sensory issues, first person voice, smut smut smutty smut, oral (female receiving and male), tandem oral, smex, doggy style?, Namjoon’s big brain during smex, smut with feelings and a lot of thoughts (as usual) ((all my air sign placements really coming out to play

•a/n: idk what this is, besties, besides extremely unedited and wildly indulgent. I may change the voice out of first person and all the “i’s” to “you’s” but it’s up the way it’s up for now. 🤷🏽‍♀️The world is just a horrifying place right now, especially in the US, and I just wanted to write something that felt like a small refuge, spend a little time some place that felt better, so we’re back in Namjoon’s living room. Also, who better to escape into the woods and away from reality with than the founder of namjooning himself ((also also, that bit about Pennsylvania was 100% true. It’s wild here, man))

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“I cannot get comfortable for the life of me,” I huff grumpily.

It’s a Monday night, late in March. The threat of rain has been looming for hours. Despite its sudden absence in the forecast when I check the weather app, I can still feel it in my bones. In the raw, creaky way my joints scrape against each other. The way the inflammation in my body burns like fire ants beneath my skin.

Namjoon is quick to notice from across the room.

“This weather’s been making your body feel like hell this spring.”

“Yeah, I hate to begrudge it though. Winter was even worse.”

“Gosh, it really was huh?” He frowns at the laptop screen on his desk. He’s got the tiniest beanie shoved on his very big head but somehow, it works. The tips of his hair peak past the beanie’s brim, brushing the mussed hair of his furrowed eye brows. “God, I can’t stand to stare at a screen a second longer.”

He peels his gold rimmed glasses off his nose, rubbing the little indentions they've made along the bridge and pressing his fingers into his closed eye sockets. I can tell he’s exhausted and miserable too about how much energy life seems to require of him these days.

“I’m going to scoop you up and make you the most comfortable woman in the world, I promise. Just give me like three minutes.” He tips back in his desk chair, the spine of it sliding out to a wide reclined angle as his long legs stretch out in front of him.

“Why did we spend so much money on a couch that’s not even comfortable, joonie?” I whine, shifting once again.

“Because the last one was even less comfortable than this one,” he reminds me, “and at least this one is cognac leather,” he shrugs. “It’s comfy on the eyes at least”

“Well I need it to be comfy for my bones.” I grunt, shoving yet another throw pillow out of your way. “Maybe we should pick up and move to the shore, like in a regency novel. I think the air would be good for me. I wonder if American healthcare accepts existential dread and deep chronic pain as enough of a reason to just financially support us until I turn to dust.”

“You and your TikTok algorithm both know as well as I do that America will do no such thing,” Namjoon chuckles with his eyes closed.

“I know…. But they should take at least some culpability. God knows most of my health problems probably exist BECAUSE of them.” I slide the strap of my bra and shirt off my shoulder, not because I want to be a seductress but because the elastic is cutting into my throbbing right trap muscle and if I don’t get some of the tension off of it, I might scream.

“Right? Did you hear about the latex spill in the Delaware river yesterday? The entire city of Philadelphia doesn’t have usable drinking water right now. My friend there literally got a text message about it from the city strongly recommending every use bottled water only until

Further notice. One and a half million people woke up to that text Message! It’s insane.” Namjoon pulls his oversized hood up over his beanie as he looks up at the ceiling, ankles crossed beneath the desk.

“Lord, haven’t we lived through enough of this? I’m so tired, joonie.” I can hear how pitiful I sound. To his credit, he treats me just the same as when I sound intellectually astute and strong. I’ve always liked that about him.

“If the world is going to hell in a hand basket anyway, maybe we should look into a- moving internationally and b- signing up for a payment plan on one of those YouTube influencer mattresses,” Namjoon tips his head my way, and suddenly my heart feels a little more light.

“Ooo, the helix?“ I smile, for perhaps the first time tonight.

His dark eyes twinkle in the low evening lamplight.

“ I actually did some research and found one made out of avocados.”

“Is that as close as I can get now that my body has decided it’s allergic to Avos?”

Namjoon’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. “God, your body would find a way to betray you like that wouldn’t it?”

“It’s not my fault I’m too delicate for this world,” I shrug.

“I forget you were born inside a flower that protected you from the world with its petals until it bloomed, thumbelina.”

“If I could take a nap inside a peony right now, I’d do it in a heartbeat…. The pollen might be too much though.” I sigh.

“Come here,” Namjoon laughs, standing from his chair and extending his hand toward me.

“Where are you taking me?”

I slip my knuckles between his and knock against his shoulder with my head.

“To my bumblebee. Take you on a spin around the block” he winks.

“I’m surprised you didn’t say take a ride. It’s like the only lyric you use these days” I snicker, bumping the curve of my hip into his.

“You’re supposed to write what you know,” he shrugs.” It’s not my fault your hips are your area of expertise.”

He winks at me and god, if he took every piece of clothing off of me right now, I’d ride him in a heartbeat.

Shit. Knowing him, he can probably feel my response to him without even looking at me. Sure enough, he looks down, smiling until his dimples dip in his cheeks, and damn it, I’m so captivated by the focaccia dough dips in his face that I stumble into the corner of the wall. My hip catches and I yelp, more embarrassed than in pain.

“Shh, hey, I got you.”

That calm voice of his is so low right now as his palm curves around the dip in my hip that got nicked by the wall. I tip into his long, warm torso and let him guide me into the bedroom. I’m clearly too disoriented and agitated to make it here without careening into something else and frustrating myself, so I’m happy for the assistance. Besides, being scooped up in Namjoon’s substantial hands is never a bad place to be.

“Thanks, baby. I needed that.”

I press my temple into his chest, kiss his ribs. Marvel at the resistance of muscle I feel beneath his soft green shirt. I press my nose into the fabric and let the warmth of him calm me. His other hand strokes soft knuckles along my jaw. His touch is so light and sweet - I feel my shoulders drop as he does it.

“Pick me up?” I whisper, eyes lifting softly to look up at him from where I’m pressed into his chest.

His hands slide up my sides, palms pressed into my waist as he lifts me. The soft grunt he makes as my thighs wrap around his ribs makes something in my brain feel a little fuzzy. Life is better like this, I think. Our faces nuzzled cheek to cheekbone, his hands fitted beneath my thighs, mine trailing softly through the silky bits of his hair peeking out of the back of his beanie as my arms drape over his shoulders like fabric. I can feel the knot of tension in the middle of my spine begin to untie itself as I melt into him. God, I’m so happy he exists.

“Where would you like to go, princess?”

Namjoon kisses the top of my ear, and that fuzzy tingle in my brain is back.

“What are my options?”

I press my lips softly to his throat in light, meditative kisses. They’re more like delicate exhales. My tongue barely tips out to taste his skin. Just a touch. Just a taste. Sleepy and slow because that’s all I have the energy for. His eyelids do that hazy half flutter that tells me he likes it enough to pretend he doesn’t so that I’ll keep going. I smile as he gently tips his head to the side, as if waiting for my answer, but really he’s just giving me more room to access that spot behind his ear that likes my lips. Let’s humor the man.

“We could go to the bed, the shower, the bath…” he gasps a little on the last word, the ah sound coming out too airy as I gently mouth at his pulse point and his grip on my thighs gets tense. “Or there’s a ….counter right here.” His head tips toward the half bath in the hallway as his fingers dig into the meat of my legs.

When I look up to meet his eyes, they’ve gone serpentine. Deep and dark and heavy as he holds me close. I can feel how shallow his breathing is becoming and I smile, sleepy and soft as he watches me.

“Take me to bed, Joonie.”

He’s kissing me before I can even finish his name.

He tips the door open with one of his feet before squeezing us both through the threshold of it. With his eyes closed and his tongue between my lips, he’s bound to crash into something and he does. He thunks an elbow, I knock my head, but in seconds, he’s cradling it where I’ve bumped the wall, spilling “sorry, I’ve got you, sorry,” onto my tongue as he pulls me in closer.

The spell doesn’t break.

He’s big and he’s bulky but he’s careful with me as he lays me on the bed and climbs over me. His mouth doesn’t leave mine even as he peels off each piece of my clothing. His movements are slow, his touch tender as he does.

Namjoon has learned how to soothe my body when it’s alert like this. Knows the cool air feels refreshing and crisp when my skin is hot with pain and sensitivity so he gets me naked with a deft touch. He knows the feel of his skin is grounding for me so that soft green shirt of his hits the floor. Knows I love his hair so the beanie goes next. Knows I love the strength in his thighs so his shorts are next as he tugs my hips down beneath his to let me wrap my legs around his slim waist.

I'm so wrapped up in the warmth of him that I don’t realize he’s tugged my silk pillowcase beneath my head. It’s cool when my head falls back and I smile, toothy and wide, as his plush lips sink into my skin. He’s at my collarbone now, then the volume of my breasts. His breath is warm, the air is cool and his substantial hands grip me firm like dough he’s being careful with as he kneads.

His cock brushes against me between my legs and the bright feeling it sends sparkling through me makes my breathing stutter.

“Joonie,” I shiver, and I can feel him smile against my skin. See his eyes flash up at me in the dark.

“We do too much, baby.” He breathes, voice smoky and low like the dragon he is.

I don’t know what he means. My critical thinking is losing its sharpness as he suckles warm and soft at the dip of my ribs.

“Too much?” I can feel my brows crumpling, but his tongue is so warm on my stomach that my hands dig into his shoulders without my consent.

He reaches up to brush one hand over mine.

“Shhh, easy. We’re trying to relax you, not tense you up.”

He’s smiling. I can barely see him but I can feel him and I know his grin would only dissolve me deeper into the mattress.

“We do too much, we deal with too much. God, your skin is too motherfucking much,” he squeezes me, latches his soft mouth onto my waist and tugs at the skin. I can feel the bruise blooming there, but he’s off and on to the next before I can even get words out. “Your body is always trying to process all of it, but it’s too much. Let me take care of some of it- let me help.”

When His tongue slips between my legs, his strong hands push my legs wide, press them down when he feels me buckle. His breath is so warm, his mouth is so molten, his nose on my clit is so gentle- it all leaves my body in an exhale. Tension drops off like melted wax and I feel myself go supple in his palms as I let him do what he wants with me.

“There’s been so much chaos. So much to deal with. So much to do. I just want to run away from it all with you.”

His tongue is languid as it works on me. The rush of warmth undoes the aches in my body better than a hot bath ever has.

“Then let’s go, Joonie. Where do you want to go? I’ll follow you anywhere.” And I mean it. They’re not lusty rambles. They’re not hollow words. I’d follow him to the edge of the world.

He puts that plump mouth of his over my clit and the gentle way he slurps me up melts my bones into soup broth and clears my head.

“You’ll let me take you anywhere?”

He looks up at me, his mouth never leaving his post, working me slowly as he waits for my reply. His mouth is so wet, his eyes are so sharp and my body is just another piece of music he’s learned how to perfect. I nod, bottom lip bit between my teeth and relax as much as I can as he composes a symphony between my legs. His smile folds the crinkles around his eyes, and his aura flickers between lovingly soft and steadily authoritative as he doubles down, wrapping his arms around my legs to scoop my hips up into his face and pressing into me, deeper, faster, harder.

I arch up when he does, gasping as my shoulders lift up, my fingers twist in the bedspread, my jaw goes slack. He’s really doing a number on me and all I want to do is say thank you and let him continue.

He slides up my body then, one hand behind my head bringing my forehead to his as the other grips my hip with enough pressure to split it apart as he tips his cock inside me in a way I didn’t know I needed. The sound is squelchy and wet and he smiles as his nose bumps against mine.

“You’ll follow me?”

He sounds cocky in a way he hasn’t in a while and a little piece of me loves it. His hips are fluid as his cock rocks in and out of me. All I can do is nod wildly, disoriented as I clutch him close to me. My legs are folded up, feet along his hips for purchase with my knees butterflied wide. I’d laugh at how much I must look like a frog if this didn’t feel so good. He’s got a hand beneath my bum, lifting my hips off the bend and gliding his cock so deep into me that surely my organs are all shifting wide like the Red Sea to make room for him.

“Wherever you want to go,” I hum, arms falling slack. I’ve lost the energy to hold on to him, but he’s got me held up so precious and tight that we’re still more intertwined than two fibers of thread in a tight knit sweater. I’ve fused into him and now every breath is in tandem.

“I’m gonna take my girl away from here.”

His thumb brushes my bottom lip and I feel myself flush at his tenderness.

“Yeah?” My eyes are wide, following his. He hovers above me, furrowed face sculpted with intensity and aggression as his body works mine into ecstasy. I’ve really acquiesced to the fact that I’m nothing more than a soft lump of clay in his hands that he’s working with precision. I’ve always wanted to be a work of art.

He slips my breast into his mouth like a lychee jelly, moaning at the feel of me tightening around him when he does it. Pumping harder, faster, deeper, only to pull out and dip his long fingers into the mess he’s made. He slathers it over all my sensitive bits, caressing with finesse as sparklers crackle in my vision.

When He pulls me up and into him, my face is pressed between his pecs and god, I can’t keep it together. I kiss them furiously as he works, clutching onto his arms, dragging my fingers down his abs as he slides his glossy fingers over my clit like he’s casting a spell. I can’t breathe… I can’t breathe… I can’t….

But I can because I have to- Namjoon won’t ease up until he gives me the sweet oxytocin of release by his hands and I wouldn’t have it any other way. So I dig deep and exhale slow and controlled, whimpering as he rockets past that orgasm to send me into preparing for the next one. He smirks like I’m his plaything and I comply with no resistance. I’ll have as many rounds as he gives me. I’m a big girl. I can handle- Oh!

At least, I thought I could handle anything. Naive me, I suppose.

I smile into the sheets when he tips me over onto all fours. He kisses my shoulders, kisses along my spine, brushing his thumbs on the folds on my hip, all tender and kind and syrupy sweet as the behemoth between his legs tips ever so slowly inside of me despite my incredible tightness, and I don’t know whether to breathe or scream so I press my face into the bedding and giggle like there’s something wrong with me.

“Take you somewhere quiet,” he slides in deeper. “With no noise,” he thrusts. “No news.” He thrusts. “Just nature.”

My chest feels tight with affection but my body feels limps like a rag doll as he pumps me silly. His gargantuan hands holding up my hips are the only thing keeping me from sliding off the bed and melting into the floorboards.

“Joonie, i’d- I’d love that,” soft puffs of air leave me with each fluid roll of his hips. The snap at the end of the graceful flourish knocks my skull a little loose but I don’t mind. Thinking so little is really quite nice.

“Take you for walks, lay with you in nature, fuck you like this in an outdoor bath tub while we watch the stars.”

His hand glides down my spine as he paints beautiful pictures with his words. My heart and my body don’t know which way is up.

“Escape all this chaos. At least for a little bit.” He smirks. I catch a glimpse of it as I look over my shoulder, reach back to hold his hand.

“I might never let you drag me back to the real world.” My smile is gooey, fond and so is his now. His dimples have come out - all his sincerity and heart on display, as his hips still even as he still fills me up.

“I can write poetry in the wild,” he shrugs. “My music would probably be better for it.”

He looks bashful and soft. The juxtaposition of his strong body and sweet face make me dip forward. He slides out of me, watching with confusion as I guide him to stand beside the bed.

When I flip onto my back, letting my head loll backwards off the bed in front of him, he arches a brow at me. I just chuckle and pull him forward by the back of his legs.

“Come here. I want to make my own music.”

I take the length of him into my mouth and he topples over, hands bracing on either side of me on the bed. He groans so sweet and low that I smile as I take him deep. His knees buckle when my nose tips softly against his balls as I suckle him slowly and it takes everything in me not to laugh at how happy I am.

His hands travel my body as his mouth occupies itself. He makes a meal of my breasts, takes a drink between my legs, holds my throat to lighten my breath. When we cum in tandem, he collapses to my side as we catch our breath in silence.

The night is still, the air is cool and rain is finally trickling against the windows.

Our bodies are spent and our plan is set.

We’ll run away soon enough.

But now, cradled breast to breast, we sleep knowing our world is just the smallest bit brighter.

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