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chem1cali · 25 days ago

Text

POLAROIDS

masterlist

18+ MINORS DNI

theodore nott x fem!reader

synopsis: you've never been particularly confident in yourself, which is why you decide to take some flattering polaroids of your body. but what happens when they end up in the wrong hands?

warnings: SMUT, slight dubcon, p in v sex, masturbation (m receiving), jacking off over photos, body worship, oral (f receiving), breeding kink kinda, theo is a desperate little slut, reader is a perv (theo is also kind of a perv)

wordcount: 3.9k

a/n: this is the first time i've written smut in like two years, so i hope this does me justice as i try and get back into the swing of things again!

"Shit, shit, shit!" You curse, rifling through your drawers. "They're gone. They're gone, Pans!"

Pansy walks up beside you, staring into your drawer of clothes with confusion. "What's gone, exactly? All you told me was that you did something special."

You tip your head back, staring at the ceiling.

"The polaroids." You groan. "Where the fuck are they?"

"You took polaroids?" Pansy asks, her voice seeming intrigued now. "What of?"

"Me." You say, spinning to face her. "Me with... not a whole lot of clothes on."

Pansy's mouth pops open, shock and delight colouring her features. "Oh my god. You naughty thing!"

You purse your lips at her. "Thank you, but not the point right now. They're missing, which means someone has them, or I've lost them and someone will find them, or-"

"Woah, woah." Pansy's hands come up to grasp your shoulders. "Relax, okay? We'll figure out where they are. There's every chance you've misplaced them somewhere in here, which means if someone does find them, it'll only be one of us girls. We're the only ones that come in here."

The blood drains from your face. "And Theo."

Pansy cocks her head. "What?"

You swallow harshly. "Theo comes in here to hang out with me sometimes. What if he sees them?"

Pansy raises an eyebrow. "Trust me, I don't think he'd be complaining."

You squint at her. "What's that supposed to- nevermind. Not the point. The point is, they're in here somewhere, and we have to find them before someone else does."

Pansy rolls her eyes. "Fine, we can talk about Theo's burning love for you later."

Your cheeks flame. Burning love? "I don't know what you're talking about, he's my best friend."

"First of all," Pansy scowls. "I'm offended that I'm not your best friend. Second of all, if you think that man is just friends with you, you're delusional."

You frown back at her, choosing to ignore her words entirely and resume hunting for the elusive pieces of film. You tear through the piles of clothes while Pansy rifles through your desk and piles of parchment.

"Why did you take polaroids of yourself like that anyway?" She asks, some time later while you're still searching. "Who are they for?"

You look over at her from your cross legged position on the floor. You were on your final drawer in your tall-boy, with still no sign of the pictures.

"For myself." You mumble. "You know I've had... issues with my confidence. I thought this might help."

Pansy nods, no hint of judgement on her face. "Makes sense, I buy myself fancy lingerie for the same reason. Makes me feel beautiful and powerful."

You exhale softly, relieved at the understanding that has passed between the two of you. "That's what the polaroids did for me. Made me feel pretty."

She nods. "I should hope so, you are pretty."

Your cheeks glow at the compliment and you duck your head.

"Thanks." You mutter.

A few minutes later, Pansy groans. "I don't think we're going to find them."

Panic bubbles in your chest.

"We have to find them." You gasp. "They can't- they can't have gone missing. If anyone sees them- god, I'll be a fucking laughing stock, Pans!"

Pansy is up out of her chair and crouching beside you in seconds.

"Hey." Her hands find their way to your shoulders. "Breathe, Y/N. We'll figure it out. No one has been in this room since you took them, right? Which means they're still here somewhere. We'll find them, we can just take a break for a bit, though. Okay?"

You force your lungs to expand and contract at a normal pace, waiting for your heart to stop racing. Still slightly panicky and trembling, you look at Pansy and give her a weak smile in thanks.

She smooths a hand over your hair. "Why don't you go and find Theo? Take your mind off things for a bit."

That sounded like a good idea, but the devious wink Pansy gave you made it clear exactly what taking your mind off things meant in her eyes.

"Hilarious." You mutter. "I will go and see Theo, though. And not for the reasons you're implying."

Pansy rolls her eyes. "One day, the two of you will just fuck and I'll be able to say I told you so."

You make a face, and stand up, dragging her to the door with you. "Okay, that's enough of you. I'm leaving, so are you. I'll see you at supper, yeah?"

Pansy giggles as she's pushed out of your dorm. "Yeah, I'll see you at dinner, but I imagine you'll be too full to want to eat anything."

"Pansy!" You yell, as she flits down the corridor away from you, still laughing. Sighing, you drag a hand down your face and head in the opposite direction towards Theo's dorm.

Once there, you lift your hand to knock, but a muffled groan stops you. You pause, and listen. There it is again, a soft groan coupled with the wet sounds of moving skin.

You scrunch your nose. You were no stranger to Theo's popularity with the female population at Hogwarts, but you'd never actually stumbled on the evidence of said popularity. You shake your head in exasperation and turn to leave when a quiet pant of your name sounds from behind the door.

You freeze, staring in disbelief at the door, wondering if maybe you'd heard wrong or-

Nope. There it was again. Your own name, said with Theo's unmistakeable voice. Was he...?

No. There was no way. The best thing to do right now, would be to walk away, or to at least knock and give him time to sort himself out before answering the door.

But as your hand inches towards the door handle, a small twisted part of you decides that you want to catch him unawares.

Before you can think too hard about it, you crack the door open slightly, thankful for Theo's tendency to keep it unlocked and the hinges oiled.

His dorm room is quite dark, lit only by a single candle on his bedside, so it takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the gloom.

When they do, however, the sight has your body freezing and your lips parting in shock and... something else you weren't brave enough to name.

Theo is propped up on his pillows, the soft candlelight brushing his bare skin with a golden hue, highlighting the sheen of sweat covering him. His face is tense, eyes shut and mouth slightly agape, head tilted back just enough to show the pale expanse of his throat. His chest is bare, abdominal muscles flexing as his hand...

You press further against the crack in the door, your eyes wide. Theo's hand grips his cock, tugging at the length with furious haste, his hips lifting to meet each pull as his other hand grips his bedsheets tightly, veins popping out along his forearm from the strain.

You can't see much, due to your unorthodox vantage point and the dim light of the candle, but you can see enough to know that he is... sizeable.

As in, how the fuck is that supposed to fit anywhere, sizeable.

Your eyes trail lower down, until they catch on a glint of laminated paper resting on his bare thighs, just above where his pants are bunched halfway down his legs.

Your blood runs cold. Oh god, were those...?

In an effort to see better, you push closer, widening the gap of the door. What you don't account for, however, is Theo's innate messiness. His broom must have been leaning against the door, and it is sent clattering to the floor as the door opens wider.

Theo jolts upright, his eyes flying open as he grabs his wand and casts a hasty Lumos, illuminating his room, and himself, in a much brighter light than before.

And, unfortunately, illuminating you standing in his doorway.

"Y/N?" He asks breathlessly, his chest heaving and cheeks flushed with leftover exertion. He hasn't covered himself, and the light from his wand reveals more of his skin to you, including the flushed and stiff weight of his cock as it bobs against his stomach.

Theo notices the object of your attention and flushes deeper, scrambling to cover himself while muttering embarrassed apologies. In his haste, Theo knocks the pictures to the ground, and with the new light from his wand, you can see your familiar, half naked form decorating the polaroids.

Theo falls silent, staring helplessly at the fallen pictures as his mouth opens and shuts with no words coming out.

"I..." He begins finally. "Look, I can explain-"

"Were you touching yourself over photos of me?" You cut him off, incredulously, looking back up at him. Your brow furrows. "How did you even get a hold of them, they were in my dorm?"

Theo shifts uncomfortably, hands cupped over his still obvious erection. "I uh... went to look for you earlier. I went to your dorm and... they were just there. On your bed. I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry, god I'm so sorry."

Your cheeks heat. He'd just seen them? Taken them? Your cheeks burned brighter. Thought they were good enough to touch himself over? A heat of a different kind erupted low in your stomach, but you berated yourself. This wasn't a smut scene in one of your books, this was real life, and it was weird, and creepy, and-

"It's fine." You breathe instead, despite your warring thoughts. Your body's reaction was winning this battle, tingles erupting along your spine and your toes curling in your shoes.

Theo blinked. "What...?"

You laughed awkwardly. "I mean, it's weird, don't get me wrong, but I also just spent the last few minutes spying on you so it's not exactly any weirder than that."

Theo choked, staring up at you with wide eyes. "You what? You were watching me?"

You glanced between him and his various possessions as you struggled to find your words. "I mean, yes? It's makes us both even, I suppose. You were weird enough to steal lewd photos of me to wank over, I was weird enough to stand here and watch you, enjoy watching you. It makes us both even and we never have to speak about it again, right?"

Theo goes to open his mouth to reply, but a choked moan escapes his lips instead. You glance back down at his lap, finding his hand wrapped back around his cock, his thumb flicking over the flushed and sensitive tip.

"You enjoyed watching me?" He rasps, his eyes focused on you, wand forgotten but still glowing beside him on the bed.

You stand there, transfixed at the sight before you, before nodding slowly.

"Yeah." You breathe. "I enjoyed it."

Glancing back up at his face, you see his bottom lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes flare with heat. So much heat.

"Are you still enjoying it?" He asks quietly, leaning back on his other hand so that the expanse of his torso and throbbing length was in clear view for you to see. The rhythmic movements of his hand stroking himself back and forth was hypnotising to you, and you almost forget his question until you catch his lips curl into a self-satisfied smirk at your blatant ogling.

"I'll take that as a yes." He murmurs, clenching his fist tighter and exhaling sharply.

"This... this isn't right, Theo." You breathe, but your traitorous body is trembling with anticipation.

"It's just me, tesoro." He says softly. "Just you and me. Come in to the room properly, close the door."

You body acts without hesitation, following his gentle instruction. You step further into his dormroom, shutting the door behind you and leaning against the cool wood.

"I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw those pictures lying on your bed." Theo continues to speak, his Italian accent rolling over the syllables with an unfairly seductive purr. "How many months I've longed to see you without your robes and sweaters and skirts, and it was like my wishes had been granted to me."

Heat prickles over your skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake. You're silent, but so attentive to his words of praise. You'd felt confident and proud of yourself taking the photos, but it was nothing compared to seeing your best friend push himself to the brink of ecstasy over them.

"And it was better than anything I could have imagined." Theo's gentle voice is interspersed with soft grunts and pants as his hand movements grow harsher. "But I can't help but imagine if the real thing could be even better."

You blink in surprise. "You mean...?."

"Yeah." He pants. "Wanna see you, baby."

Your spine locks as pleasure tingles straight to your core. Before you can overthink it, you're shrugging off your school robes, already setting on unbuttoning your blouse beneath. Theo just stares at you, eyes locked on your hands as they bare more and more skin to his view. His breath hitches as you finally remove your shirt and set to removing your skirt, shoes and socks.

When you're finally left in just your underthings, he glances between you and the polaroids on the floor. "You... you're wearing the same..."

You nod shyly, fighting the urge to cover yourself with your hands. "I only took them earlier this morning."

Theo's eyes connect with yours, and you're stunned by the turbulent emotions swirling through them. There's lust, of course, but also a little left over fear and embarrassment, as well as something softer... warmer, that you can't quite name.

"Come closer." He whispers. "Please."

You do as he says, coming closer until his free hand reaches up to wrap around the back of one of your thighs, pulling you closer.

"So soft." He breathes, glancing up at you from his seated position. His hand skates up the side of your leg, cupping and squeezing your ass briefly before trailing over your hip and up the side of your ribs. "So beautiful."

His hand rests finally on the underside of your breast, fingers twitching with the urge to grope and grab at your body. "Please let me touch."

You nod, and he groans. "Words, tesoro. I need your words."

"Yes. Yes, Theo, you can touch me."

Shocking you entirely, he releases his cock and grips your waist with both hands, laying you flat on your back on the bed. He settles his weight on top of you, his mouth sealing itself to the sensitive skin at the crook of your neck. You gasp as he sucks and bites along the skin, writhing under the warm, solid weight of him. He bucks his hips against yours, the velvety hardness of his cock brushing against your sex over the lace of your panties.

An embarrassing mewl escapes your lips as your legs tighten around his waist, and he does it again, harder this time.

"Can I taste you?" He whispers against your neck. "I've been dreaming of this for so long, love. You've gotta let me taste you. Let me make you feel good - I promise it'll feel good."

You're nodding while you still have this wave of confidence motivating you, and make a noise of disappointment as he raises himself off you. Your disappointment doesn't last for long, however, before he's situating himself between your legs and staring at the apex of your thighs like a starving man faced with his first meal in months.

He presses a kiss to your inner thigh, looking up at you through his lashes. His mouth slides higher, and you can feel his lips twist into a grin against your skin as your breath quickens and your body shifts with impatience.

Finally, he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your clothed cunt, letting out a soft groan as his tongue laves over the lace of your underwear. His fingers hook into the fabric and he moves his mouth just long enough to tug them down and over your hips before his lips are back on you.

Your back arches and you let out a startled moan at the bare contact. Theo wastes no time, diving into you like a man possessed. The first lick of his tongue across your slit has you gasping, and your hand flies down to tangle in his brunette curls. He sets himself on you with even more intensity, trading between suckling at your clit, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs, and plunging his tongue straight into your entrance, licking up every drop of your arousal. Every movement makes the tension in your stomach coil tighter and tighter until you're not sure you can handle anymore.

"Theo." You gasp out. "I can't- I'm not sure if I can-"

"Shhh." He croons against your skin. "Let it go, baby. I've got you."

He sucks harder on your clit, pairing it with a sharp nip that has you crying out his name, and the tension in your body snaps like an elastic band. Pleasure zaps through you, electrifying every nerve under your skin and making your vision blur. You're vaguely aware of Theo licking you through the aftershocks, lapping up the evidence of your orgasm as he rocks his hips against the mattress, whimpering softly.

When you begin to push his head away once the oversensitivity kicks in, he pulls away, his face wet from you; lips swollen and pupils dilated. He crawls up your body, pressing his lips to yours. You gasp as you taste yourself on his tongue, pulling him closer with a hand on the back of his neck as you yearn for more.

"How was that, tesoro?" He pants out. "Did I make you feel good?"

You nod frantically.

"More." You gasp. "I want more."

"More?" He punctuates his words with a harsh grind of his erection against your core. "You sure you can handle more?"

You nod frantically. "I can do it. I wanna do it."

He dives back in for another kiss, tangling his tongue with yours as he reaches down you free his cock fully from his pants. He moans softly into your mouth as the tip of his cock presses against your clit, and you shudder against him. He guides himself to your entrance, pulling back to look you in the eye.

"Gonna fill you up, yeah? Make you feel so good, baby. Split you apart on my cock. You want that, yeah?"

You arch further into him, raising one of your legs to wrap around his hip, opening yourself further to him.

His eyes roll back as he begins to press into you, stuttered groans escaping his lips as he pushes further, inch by inch of him being enveloped by your tight heat. You wince at the uncomfortable stretch, but lock your other leg around his hip as well, drawing him closer to you and forcing him to bottom out inside you.

"Need a second." He chokes out. "God, you're so tight. So hot and wet and perfect."

You moan your approval, giving yourself a second to adjust to his size. He's larger than anyone you've ever taken before. While he also adjusts, he reaches a hand behind your back to unclasp your bra, peeling the fabric from your body.

His eyes lock on to your chest, before he dips down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. You gasp, your body tensing with pleasure. He moans against your chest, a deep, masculine sound that has your cunt tightening around him. He switches his attention between your breasts, lavishing sucks and nips equally across both, sucking the skin so hard that you know you'll wake up with purplish marks tomorrow.

Finally, after what seems to be an eternity, Theo begins to shift his hips, and the friction send bolts of heat racing through you. He eases you into it with shallow, gentle thrusts, but it isn't long before he's reaching the edge of his control, and his hips beginning to slap against yours, your tits bouncing with the force of his movements.

He lifts his gaze to yours, watching you with parted lips.

"So gorgeous, tesoro." He murmurs. "I wish I could stay inside this pussy forever, it's like you were made for my cock."

You hum your agreement, lifting your hips slightly to meet his thrusts, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan as the new angle allows him to reach deeper, more sensitive spots inside you.

"Gonna come, Theo." You gasp out, barely able to stop your eyes from rolling into the back of your head.

"Me too, love. Can I come inside you? Pump you full?" He asks, his tone almost begging as his movements lose their steady rhythm and instead slam into you with reckless abandon.

"Yeah." You whimper. "Need you to stay inside me, please."

Theo buries his head in your neck, shuddering as his body tenses and his hips stutter. Sudden warmth coats your insides, and the sheer foreignness of the feeling catapults you straight to your second orgasm, your body shaking as it forces you through your pleasure. You squirm under Theo as he fights to keep moving, just to help work you through your climax, but before long his arms give out and he slumps on top of you, his softening cock still deep inside of you.

You allow him a moment of rest before you're pushing at his shoulders.

"Can't... breathe." You choke out, fighting to inhale against the weight of him on your chest.

Theo groans and shifts to collapse next to you, his head still resting on your sweat-slicked chest and an arm wrapped around your waist.

You stare up at the ceiling, your mind going a million miles an hour as you wince at the sudden empty feeling. Your heart is racing, and no longer just with the aftershocks of the frankly mind-blowing sex. You had just crossed a line in your friendship. A major one. One you couldn't come back from.

"Relax." Theo murmurs sleepily from beside you. "I can practically feel you overthinking."

You're silent for a moment, before speaking. "What does this mean, Theo? For us?"

He ponders your question, lifting off your chest to prop his head on his hand as he lies on his side, facing you.

"I don't know." He says honestly. "But I really liked what we just did. And I really like you, so we will work it out."

You blink at him. "You like me?"

He rolls his eyes, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Of course I like you, idiot. Have done for years."

You're speechless for a while, coming into terms with this new information. "Well."

Theo laughs, a rich, affectionate sound that tugs at your heart.

"We'll figure something out, tesoro, don't stress. For now, I'm exhausted, and your tits are the perfect pillow. We'll talk about it later, okay?"

You sigh out a soft laugh, and nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he settles back on top of you.

And later, when Pansy gives you a knowing look as you walk into the great hall together, Theo's arm wrapped securely around your waist, all you do is smile.

She did in fact tell you so.

#theo nott #fluff #foryou #harry potter #slytherin boys #theo nott x you #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #x reader fanfiction

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bluecollarmcandtf · 9 months ago

Text

Don't get possessed!

You'll end up like this...

Gassy air bubbled from deep inside my soft, pudgy stomach. The smell of semi-digested beer wafted into my nose as my lips flapped in the gust of a violent belch dragging itself out. God, this body was disgusting, but this is what I did to it; this is what I did to him...

I used his cellphone to snap a pic of the sweaty slab of meat I'd been wearing for the past three years. It was the disgraced body of a former jock. Jake's stomach rumbled like it always did when I filled it to the brim. Even after all this time, it still hasn't adapted to the crap I've constantly been stuffing it with.

Swallowing yet another beer, I toss the can into the corner of his dark living room, where it collided with discarded pizza boxes and half empty milk jugs. I'd let the entire apartment overflow with the garbage generated by this once-godly body, and there was a lot of it.

The place smelled like a dumpster in the sun.

You might think this is a disgusting way to live. Well, I did too. Everything about the situation was nasty; the damp basement apartment, the stacks of dirty dishes, the closet of unwashed clothes. The entire place had a permanent stench of body odor, and I know it followed this body around everywhere.

I had never in my life felt so absolutely disgusted by my surroundings.

But that was the exact fucking point.

To explain, we'll have to flash back to a few years ago. Let me show you a photo of Jake when I first possessed him. I took this right after jumping into his perfect body...

The athlete had just gotten back from the gym. It was another perfect workout for the perfect jock, and I could feel the grit and intensity swelling in every muscle. The college footballer would normally shower after any physical activity, but I was happy to crack open a beer and bask in his sweaty glory.

I don't know if you could tell, but I am not a fan of Jake.

He was a pretentious bully at my university, and he got away with anything. I tried my best to stay out of his way, but ultimately found myself staring into the headlights of his fancy Christmas present: a shiny black camaro. The asshole ended my life while driving back to campus after one of his famous parties!

I hate to be dramatic, but I was not ready to pass away, and I was not going to let an asshole like Jake get away with my murder. The police couldn't solve the crime any more than I could console my mourning family, so I took matters into my own ghostly hands.

Jake, beautiful Jake, didn't have a single iota of remorse. He continued to get belligerently drunk, and continued to shame and ridicule anyone shorter, weaker, or fatter than him, which was just about anyone. The worst part was people let him: they allowed it because he was the strongest, the most handsome, the prize quarterback with a winning smile!

I had to do something to stop the piece of trash lurking inside his god-like body.

So I possessed him. And I did this...

When I took over, it was like putting on a body suit. As a ghost, I was invisible, so I got right behind and slipped inside. First, I shoved a leg in, then an arm, and then the rest followed.

He struggled, flailing the few body parts he still had control over, but it was in vain!

My head was the last thing to get situated, but once I slid it into place, his yelling subsided. His thoughts evaporated, and I broke in his handsome face with a wicked smile. It felt different, grinning with someone else's mouth, but I was just glad to have a body again. His was definitely an upgrade compared to my old one. The height I stood at, the breadth of my shoulders, the weight of muscular pecs hanging off my chest; it all took some getting used to.

I enjoyed living inside the jock's body, but I was on a revenge mission. The first thing I wanted to screw up was his diet!

I started shoveling massive amounts of fast-food down his throat three times a day, packing on forty pounds in just a couple weeks. Obviously, I quit going to his football practice and even dropped out from his classes. I needed the time to bulk his body up.

His teammates and coaches all reached out, but I told them to get lost. He took everything from me, so I wanted to do the same to him...

This is a pic I took of Jake's body after almost a year of controlling him. I wanted him to look and smell as awful as possible in public, so I kept him as sweaty and hairy as I could. Despite my best efforts, his attractiveness was still shining through. If anything, he looked like a hot, hard-working bear on the way home from the job, and that was not what I wanted.

This made me realize that I could destroy more than just his looks.

In his body, I marched back to campus and begged the manager of the university gym for a job. A bunch of his old friends were there to see it, so I made sure to act as pathetic as possible in the six foot hunk, practically grovelling for any position. I even dropped to Jake's knees in front of the guy, giving a lot of the gym-goers second hand embarrassment.

Ultimately, the manager offered me a janitorial position if I would shut up. I accepted it gladly, kissing the guys shoes with Jake's lips like some kind of submissive idiot.

So even though Jake's body was still attractive with the extra weight and fur I'd given it, the dingey old uniform of a janitor made sure to mark him as the bottom of the food chain. I wore it like a badge of honor, even if I never washed the damn thing. Wearing a stained boilersuit labelled 'janitor' everywhere definitely told the world what Jake was worth!

By that point, people really only saw Jake as a walking mop, if they even looked his direction at all...

This last picture is one I took after about a year of working for the school. No one had spoken to me (Jake) in that entire time, unless they needed a toilet unclogged. The man had truly lost any respect people had for him.

The overalls hide the giant gut I'd managed to grow on his torso, but you can look at the top pic if you want to see how fat and hairy I ultimately got him. He looked nothing like the explosive athlete he'd been a couple years ago.

I took that photo right before I released Jake's to his body.

The jock probably wouldn't recognize himself. He'd wonder why he was suddenly so fat and hairy. He'd be terrified by the janitorial uniform on his back and even more horrified by the layers of dried sweat swamping his skin. It wouldn't be until he realized how much time had passed that he would fully understand the punishment I'd carved out for him. I wonder how he'll react when he finds out that he's spent the last three years scrubbing floors in the gym instead of working out in it.

I wonder if he'll clean himself up and learn a lesson? Or maybe he'll just accept his fate and give in to the habits I've made for his body. I don't know, and I don't care.

I'll be long gone by then.

Honestly, I have to admit that it's kind of fun living like this. Disgusting, sure, but there's something about reveling in the laziness, the degradation, the stink. I never allowed myself to be so laid back in life. Maybe, I learned something from this experience with Jake as well. I'm starting to think I'll find a new body to possess and live in. Someone I can take over and use for my own immediate pleasures.

Maybe you're the right candidate! You've got a nice body I could jump into. You won't mind if I hop in and drive for a few years, would you? You'll be disgusted by the state I leave you in, but hey it's not like it's my body I'm fucking up, right!

#degredation kink #humiliation kink #male possession

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writingnightmare · 14 days ago

Note

hi! Would you be kind enough to do the sfw alphabet for chuuya. I'd be interested to get your take on his character

Of course! Thank you for the request, I had a lot of fun doing this. Found many things I hadn’t thought about yet with Chuuya, I might need to do one for everyone. ♡

ᴵ’ᵐ ˢˡᶦᵍʰᵗˡʸ ⁿᵉʳᵛᵒᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒʷ ᵗʰᶦˢ ᶦⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵘᵐᵇˡʳ ᵛᵒᶦᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒ

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇/𝓈: Chuuya Nakahara

𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉: SFW

𝒲𝒶𝓇��𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: None!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

SFW Alphabet - Chuuya Nakahara ⫘⫘⫘

𝒜 = 𝒜𝒻𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒶𝒻𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎? 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒶𝒻𝒻𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃?)

I think Chuuya is a pretty affectionate partner in private, he’s not one to hide his emotions if he doesn’t have to, so why should he? At least when he’s in public, he’s slightly more on the reserved end of things. A soft touch to the small of your back is more than enough for him, or taking your hand in his to keep you close. When he’s working however, don’t expect anything from him, he has a job to do after all, and part of that is keeping his partner at a safe distance.

𝐵 = 𝐵𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹 (𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒷𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝒷𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹? 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉?)

It would certainly be an interesting friendship. Filled with late night texts, ranting about how someone fucked up at work, without giving too much away. He’s hard to catch in person, but when you did meet up to catch up, it would be impromptu, between meetings.

It takes a while for Chuuya to open up and trust people, so it would take a while to get to that point. In the beginning, you probably struck up conversation when you met at a bar. His colleagues were all too willing to allow you to deal with the drunken mess of a man, who was incessant on calling Dazai to tell him off. For what, you didn’t know.

�� = 𝒞𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒𝓈 (𝒟𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒸𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒? 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒸𝓊𝒹𝒹𝓁𝑒?)

Chuuya is a great person to cuddle with; if he’s asleep. This man has so much pent up energy from his daily life, he can’t sit still until he passes out.

𝒟 = 𝒟𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈𝓉𝒾𝒸 (𝒟𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃? 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒶𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔?)

In a few years he might settle down with the right person, but it depends. He is loyal to the Port Mafia to a fault. So don’t expect him to give up his job. He’s decent at cooking, but terrible at cleaning. The first time you asked him to help you clean the windows one of them ended up smashed when Dazai called him.

𝐸 = 𝐸𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 (𝐼𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒽𝒶𝒹 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓀 𝓊𝓅 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓃𝑒𝓇, 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒹𝑜 𝒾𝓉?)

100% in person and privately. There is no way this man would be caught dead breaking up with someone over text. After all, he loved them at some point, they deserve respect at the very least.

𝐹 = 𝐹𝒾𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒(𝑒) (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓂𝒾𝓉𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉? 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝒸𝓀 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒾𝑒𝒹?)

He doesn’t really like the fancy titles of it all, but if you want him to put a ring on it, he definitely will. He’s not one for casual dating, his life doesn’t really allow for that long term and it brings a lot of risk with his occupation. So long as his partner is understanding, and just as loyal as he is, he’s happy either way.

𝒢 = 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝑒 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎, 𝒷𝑜𝓉𝒽 𝓅𝒽𝓎𝓈𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎?)

Chuuya is physically very gentle. He’s aware that with his ability, he can cause a lot of damage, lord forbid he do that to you. Emotionally, he’s somewhere in between. He’s a passionate man and a smooth talker, he won’t hide that, but he’s surprisingly good at managing his emotions. When he’s tired, you get glimpses of his most gentle words, expressions of affection you mightn’t hear otherwise. When he’s fired up however, every so often he will boil over and express his anger.

𝐻 = 𝐻𝓊𝑔𝓈 (𝒟𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒽𝓊𝑔𝓈? 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝑜𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓃 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒹𝑜 𝒾𝓉? 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒽𝓊𝑔𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒?)

Please hug this man. He hugs softly, but firm, like he’s trying to wrap you up and away from the rest of the world. He finds it relaxing when he comes home, his head resting in the crook of your neck, a few moments where nothing is expected of him.

𝐼 = 𝐼 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒻𝒶𝓈𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝐿-𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹?)

If this man is anything, he’s stubborn. His childhood lacked loved once he was taken, he had to learn how to use the word again. He hesitates to say it, fearing the weight of the word, but also your reaction. He wants to be sure.

𝒥 = 𝒥𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈𝓎 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝑔𝑒𝓉? 𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒹𝑜 𝓌𝒽𝑒�� 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎’𝓇𝑒 𝒿𝑒𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓊𝓈?)

Chuuya is a confident man, and his faith in you is immeasurable. That being said, the bartender who touched your hand as he passed your drink over, well he was another matter. He doesn’t get jealous at flirting, more often than not it’s those who touch you. It’s an intimate thing for him, so you’d best believe he will be moving over, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he guides you away.

𝒦 = 𝒦𝒾𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓈 (𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈𝑒𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒? 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊? 𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓀𝒾𝓈𝓈𝑒𝒹?)

He loves to kiss your knuckles, brush his lips against your cheek, and he does enjoy a nose kiss where your nose brush against each others. For him, he loves when your lips brush his jaw, or when you press a kiss into his scar on his wrist. It’s something that people barely notice about him, but the fact that you pay so much attention to what makes him who he is, it makes it that much more special.

𝐿 = 𝐿𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒶𝓇𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹𝓇𝑒𝓃?)

Chuuya is great with kids, much to his own surprise. One time a small child ran up to him, clinging to his leg with a broken smile, and he just about melted. He crouched down and took his hat off, asking what chaos he was making, until his parents came rushing over to profusely apologise for the muddy hand prints on his black slacks. He didn’t mind though, messy kids are happy kids.

𝑀 = 𝑀𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂?)

Sleeping. This man is sleep deprived, to put it bluntly. He comes home late, if he can at all, the Port Mafia does rule the night in Yokohama after all. He’s normally coming home at 3am, so by the time 7am rolls around, he’s still out to it.

𝒩 = 𝒩𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 𝓈𝓅𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂?)

The nights that he does get to spend away from work, he wants you to be the centre of his world. A quiet night in, cooking with you before watching a movie on the couch, or a night out drinking or at a fancy restaurant to spoil you, he doesn’t mind. A good mix of both would be ideal for him, letting him recover from his exhausting work, as well as making new memories with you. So long as you’re there, he’s more than content.

𝒪 = 𝒪𝓅𝑒𝓃 (𝒲𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓉 𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂𝓈𝑒𝓁𝓋𝑒𝓈? 𝒟𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝑜𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝒾𝓉 𝒶 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝒶𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓈𝓁𝑜𝓌𝓁𝓎?)

It takes this man a long time to open up, and somethings he may never tell you at all, they’re just too difficult to think about. After a few months, he’ll let small things slip, but it isn’t until about 6 months in that the floodgates burst. Suddenly you’re finding out everything about this man at once. Did you know he writes poetry in his spare time? Or how he’s too nervous to ever choose a tattoo, no matter how cool he thinks they look.

𝒫 = 𝒫𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝑒𝒶𝓈𝒾𝓁𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎?)

Depends. With how hectic his work is, the minor inconveniences build up, and suddenly he’s six glasses in ranting about Akutagawa’s recklessness to Kōyo. With you, he’s easily frustrated, but makes a point to never be easily angered with you.

𝒬 = 𝒬𝓊𝒾𝓏𝓏𝑒𝓈 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊? 𝒟𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓉𝒶𝒾𝓁 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒾𝓃 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝑜𝓇 𝒹𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔?)

He makes it a point to remember as much as he can about people who are important to him. His phone is full of birthday alerts, three days early so he never misses one. Gifts are pre-planned throughout the year whenever he has time, and you best believe he will have your favourite type of cake in the fridge for your birthday, even if he was called into work that morning. He tries his best to remember as much as he can, and he does pretty damn good.

𝑅 = 𝑅𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 (𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓇𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝒾𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓇𝑒𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅?)

The first night you spent the night at his apartment. It wasn’t the happiest moment, or the funniest, but it cemented in his mind that he wanted to spend as much time with you as he could. He half (totally) expected you to be gone in the morning for work after dragging him home drunk, yet when he woke up, there you were. Painkillers and water sat on his side table, you stood in his kitchen, greeting him with a smile and a quip about how sure you were he gave himself alcohol poisoning the night before. It gave him a level of trust he hadn’t experienced before, not like this.

𝒮 = 𝒮𝑒𝒸𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓉𝓎 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓉𝑒𝒸𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎? 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓉𝑒𝒸𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊? 𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝒷𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝓉𝑒𝒸𝓉𝑒𝒹?)

He is incredibly protective. He knows he has enemies, and you certainly do too. He will shield you from the outside world as much as he can, but after a while, the cat will be out of the bag. In the beginning he was with you everywhere, until he realised he was likely just drawing attention to you more. Instead, he will settle for one of his subordinates accompanying you if tensions are high.

If you tried to protect him, he would be torn. He’s more than strong enough to protect himself, everyone knows that, but it isn’t often someone would willingly step into the line of fire for him. In the end, he wouldn’t want you too, much preferring he be in the fire line than you.

𝒯 = 𝒯𝓇𝓎 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝑒𝒻𝒻𝑜𝓇𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝒹𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈, 𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈, 𝑔𝒾𝒻𝓉𝓈, 𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝒹𝒶𝓎 𝓉𝒶𝓈𝓀𝓈?)

Dates, gifts, anniversaries, and birthdays are when he shines. He doesn’t get much time to put his effort into everyday tasks, but you give him a set date and he is putting his all into it. Weeks in advance he is booking restaurants, buying gifts, and getting time off work.

𝒰 = 𝒰𝑔𝓁𝓎 (𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝒷𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇𝓈?)

Beyond going to bed at 4am, and smoking, this man bites his pen when he’s stressed and thinking. He never realises that he does it, until someone asks to borrow a pen, and there’s teeth marks all over the end of it. Paperwork never was his favourite pastime. At least he’ll buy a new pen when he sees the marks.

𝒱 = 𝒱𝒶𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎 (𝐻𝑜𝓌 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝓈?)

Chuuya is handsome, and he knows it. He is pretty meticulous about his appearance. He takes pride in dressing well, and in dressing as he views a Port Mafia executive should. He makes sure he looks classy, but anything he wears, he needs to be able to fight in.

𝒲 = 𝒲𝒽𝑜𝓁𝑒 (𝒲𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝒻𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒾𝓃𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓁𝑒𝓉𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊?)

Chuuya has struggled with his humanity the majority of his life. He would certainly miss you, however he knows by now that he is perfectly fine in of himself. He doesn’t need a partner to complete him.

𝒳 = 𝒳𝓉𝓇𝒶 (𝒜 𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒹𝑜𝓂 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂.)

Do not let this man near an animal shelter. He will absolutely spend all day with the dogs, loving on them, critiquing their names (Patch is such a basic name, Chūya insists the pup would far prefer being called Merlot).

𝒴 = 𝒴𝓊𝒸𝓀 (𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓌𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹𝓃’𝓉 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒, 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓃 𝑔𝑒𝓃𝑒𝓇𝒶𝓁 𝑜𝓇 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓃𝑒𝓇?)

Poor hygiene, strong no. He also hates strong perfumes/colognes, it gives him a migraine. Manipulative behaviour from a friend or a partner is immediately a no. Someone who is very loyal, and see’s the inherent value of human lives is important, even if they might not hesitate to take them nonetheless.

𝒵 = 𝒵𝓏𝓏 (𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓈𝓁𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝒽𝒶𝒷𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇𝓈?)

He sleeps like a starfish, and snores in your ear. It feels like no matter which way you turn, he’s right there, snoring right in your ear. Unless you’ve got him locked into a cuddle, I hope for your sake that you’re a heavy sleeper.

#bsd chuuya #chuuya x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #sfw alphabet #chuuya nakahara x reader

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topherwrites · 11 months ago

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FIC RECS: TOP GUN: MAVERICK - 2!

Okay, so there was shit I forgot in my year in review rec list. I posted it and a minimum of about 10 other fics immediately came to mind. so, part 2! I also didn't put many WIPs on the first one, but I think currently in progress fics should get some love too. I'll be marking them with an asterisk.

If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each.

I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! Happy reading!

P.S. If I missed anyone, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!

(P.S.S. reblog the fics you like, it makes writers happy.)

part 1, if you missed it.

SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!

JAKE SERESIN

Parking Lots and Matcha Lattes by @withahappyrefrain

In an attempt to get coffee, you meet a grade A asshole whose head you want to rip off. Meanwhile, Jake Seresin is pretty certain he just met his future wife in the parking lot of a coffee shop. AKA Jake Seresin likes mean women, pass it on.

The Hangman Special by @hangmanssunnies

On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.

*she is both hellfire and holy water by @chemistryread

you should take it as a compliment, that I'm talking to everyone here but you.

Birds Away by @wombtotombx

You’d known Jake since you were kids, bonding over the shared experience of being military brats overseas. You were the perfect pair - he was reckless, you followed the rules; he didn’t care what others thought, you were a people-pleaser. You both became the best of the best in your field - he through sheer talent and skill, you from demonstrated grit and determination. For over two decades, everyone around you - parents, friends, even teachers - had assumed you’d both end up together, despite the fact that somehow, you never did. The Navy always had its way of keeping you two apart. Whatever possibilities there might have been, it was just never in the cards. Until you got to Fallon.

*The Backup by @ereardon

No strings attached sex never works, right? You and Jake Seresin have fallen into a bad pattern of seeking each other out for sex after dates go awry, but a year of being friends with benefits with Jake hasn’t been good for your dating life. Especially when the two of you are hiding your antics from your lifelong best friend Coyote and the rest of your tightly knit friend group. But what happens when you decide to take a step back and end the cycle with Jake to focus on your dating life? And why is it that all of the sudden Jake looks more irresistible than ever when you know he’s off limits?

Take Care of Business by @honkytonk-hangman

The last time you met Lieutenant Jake Seresin, the war was still ongoing and you’d been in a floundering engagement. Back then you’d seen the possibility for more in his eyes, and now? Well, now you could explore it.

When Jake Met Polly by @/honkytonk-hangman

Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.

How It's Done (Oneshot Version) by @/honkytonk-hangman

“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.

Twenty-Five Going on Forty-Seven by @sehnsuchts-trunken

Flirting with the guy who fixed your car turns out to lead to much, much more when you find out he’s actually not just some random guy, but your new neighbour and father’s new best friend, Jake Seresin.

BRADLEY BRADSHAW

*fever pitch by @greenorangevioletgrass

Arsenal and USMNT captain Bradley Bradshaw attends the mononymous music sensation Y/N's concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream. Little did he know that they soon embark on an epic love story fit for pop royalty...

This Love Came Back to Me by @beyondthesefourwalls

You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could even truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him into a kiss, he thought maybe it was the perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of you realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply just wanting it.

I Like Your Cinema by @sometimesanalice

Bradley wasn’t sure why you wanted to see the movie again, especially when neither one of you had particularly liked it the first time you’d seen it together. But when you’re tugging down his zipper, things start to make a lot more sense.

‘cause no one breaks my heart like you by @heartsofminds

“Last times always make him uneasy. He thinks that he should be used to it by now from his track record of being abandoned (willfully or “out of their control” situations alike). None of this should hurt him as deeply anymore.” or Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though it’s hard to see).

the periphery by @youvebeenlivingfictional

You’d met Bradley a few times before the happy couple had announced their nuptials, and you’d always gotten a pretty good vibe from him. He was sweet, he was easy to talk to—and it helped that he was easy on the eyes. In fact, as soon as you’d been told that Bradley Bradshaw was going to be the Best Man, you were well on your way to having a crush on the guy.

*Hotter Than Texas by @tongue-like-a-razor

Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin’s baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley’s dream girl worst nightmare.

*flight risk by @ofstoriesandstardust

In which you and Rooster got married while at UVA for the military benefits. What started out as a mutually beneficial deal between friends years ago turns into a point of interest for Maverick, causing Rooster to have to haul you out to Fightertown to get him to shut up. While Maverick’s fussing over a marriage he didn’t know existed, Rooster’s focused on getting the ball rolling on divorce papers because really, the Navy does not need to be calling some poor girl from his college that he’s died in a horrendous accident. It’s proving to be more difficult than he expected, especially when Hangman and Phoenix take it upon themselves to encourage a friendship to become more.

How You Play the Game by @roosterforme

Bradley always loved October because of the World Series. He never expected a mix-up with the ticket he won to bring something as spectacular as you into his life. But time is fleeting, and now baseball is the last thing on his mind.

*The Intern by @/roosterforme

You barely have a minute to yourself after graduating at the top of your Ivy League class before your father insists you find an internship. Your days of lounging by the pool and partying are numbered as he has an endless parade of his colleagues visiting the house. But one of them is familiar to you in a way that warms your skin just like the San Diego sun. And it turns out, Bradley Bradshaw may just have the answers to all your problems. And those answers might be waiting for you on a yacht in the Mediterranean Sea.

there was something 'bout you by @bussyslayer333

bradley bradshaw didn’t fall in love, especially not with uptight girls in his english lit class and especially not the ones being forced into tutoring him.

*Ultraviolence by @babyonboard

You and Bradley loved each other, and Jake was just your old friend from high school who you tried to pay no mind to. At least that's how it used to be.

All Too Well by @bradleyfuckingbradshaw

You’re at dinner with your boyfriend and some of his colleagues at a restaurant he chose when you look over the menu and realize there’s no vegetarian option, but he’s too busy with his friends to realize that. Bradley isn’t.

October 3rd Promptober by @familyvideostevie

you go to a tailgate with your friend bradley.

If You Met Me First by @tip-top-cloud-surfer

Rooster confessed to Echo that he was in love with her before the mission. One minor problem: she has a boyfriend.

Home for the Holidays by @mothdruid

Bradley might have lied about having a girlfriend. His best friend, you, decide to help him out and go home for the holidays with him. As the trip unfolds, so does your and Bradley’s feelings for one another.

BOB FLOYD

*I bet this would look beautiful on film by @coridotmp3

Honey desperately needs a photographer, and Bob desperately needs a break.

Robert from Next Door by @attapullman

You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?

If Only the Neighbors Knew by @/attapullman

A month of stolen kisses culminates in Robert hosting the HOA meeting and getting you on his couch. The ladies of the neighborhood may make him blush, but only you can make your sweet neighbor weak in the knees.

*Golden Hour by @/ereardon

Willow, Georgia. Barely even a town, just a speck on a map that you tried to wipe off, mistaking it for a crumb. You’re the outsider: a fancy New York doctor, fresh out of a failed engagement, with zero primary care experience. You’re also the new town doctor, taking over for a recent retiree who was beloved. His son, Bob Floyd, is the other physician at the practice, and takes an immediate dislike to you. But you were looking for a fresh start, and Willow doesn’t seem all that bad if you can get past the fact that there's only one restaurant in town. It helps that you've caught the eye of Bradley Bradshaw, the town attorney, despite the fact that you vowed to take a break from dating. How long until you start to make friends in a town where social circles have been set in stone since elementary school? And what will it take to make Bob Floyd see you’re not as bad as he wants to believe you are?

Ruin the Friendship by @withahappyrefrain

The night before Bob leaves for Boot Camp, he’s learned no one has gone down on his best friend. He’s determined to fix that.

International Bob Floyd Fucks Month Masterlist

a january writing event hosted by @/attapullman

Bob from Stats by @/attapullman

College is a wild time, but absolutely nothing could prepare you for the quiet guy from Stats riding around campus as a cowboy. Or what a good kisser he is.

#jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bob floyd x reader #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bob floyd #tgm fanfiction #fic rec #fic rec list #queue

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callmewrinkles3 · 2 years ago

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All Too Well - DR3 x Fem!OC

Summary: Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye to your family without telling them it’s a final goodbye is even harder. But Em has come to terms that Dan doesn’t love her the same way she loves him, and leaving on her own terms will hurt less than being told he’s ending things. March 2022.

Word Count: 12.3k

Warnings: fighting, all the angst this bad boy can carry, lil bit of a dickhead!Dan, running away from your friends, mentions of death, mentions of motorsport crashes and deaths, moving without telling anyone, lying to family, talk of medical procedures, frank talks about what people want to happen if they can’t decide.

A/N: We’ve kept you waiting, but we hope this was worth the wait! This part of our story is what started us on this madcap adventure together, and it’s a lot of what makes our beloved Em Em. Thank you in advance!

Em stared at the two boarding passes in front of her as she sat in the fancy Heathrow lounge, a caramel latte beside them. Heathrow to Dubai, Dubai to Melbourne. More than twenty hours spent on planes to get to Melbourne, to jump into work and get stuck in at the Australian Grand Prix. And it was the last thing she wanted to do.

She should be excited. She should be so happy because she was about to see the boys after over a week apart, she was about to see Dan. She was finally going to get to see the Ricciardos after almost two years apart. But she was dreading it, the memories from Saudi filling her head as she thought. Em forced her attention to the laptop sitting on her knees, emails up and the one she never thought she’d write sitting in the middle of the screen.

SUB: Resignation Letter

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Dear Blake,

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

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

Kind regards,

Emma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t wait. Who’re you here with?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That sounds perfect.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I got you something.”

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

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

“Yeah! She’s always pretty.”

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Back to the hotel?”

“You read my mind.”

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

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

“Night, Dan.”

“But I thought…”

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

“I thought we’d be sharing a room.”

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

“Not particularly.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you there.”

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

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

“What’s this for?”

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

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

“Miss you too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Home.”

“Emmy…”

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

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

“Because I have to go back.”

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

“You want the truth, Dan? All of it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you too, Grace.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fair. Love you, kiddo.”

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

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

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

“My Uber’s outside, I need to leave.”

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

“Yeah, sure.”

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

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

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

“He seems like a good guy.”

“He’s one of the best.”

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

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

Em, what’s this email about?

What’s going on?

Tell me you didn’t mean to send this

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

“See you then.”

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

It felt so, so wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Danny,

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

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

Emma

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

Blakey,

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

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

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

Thank you for everything.

Love,

Ems

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

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

Mike,

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

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

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

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

Love,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ok. Go shower and head out.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Em? I’ve got my key, I’m coming in.”

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

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

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

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

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

Until he saw the boxes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you read any of what she wrote?”

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

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

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

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

“She told me to leave!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not yet. Please. Let me f—“

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

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

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

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black-amortentia · 1 year ago

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Under the Mistletoe with Remus

Professor Lupin x Professor!Reader

Christmas was in the air, and the preferred way of older students to celebrate was snogging under mistletoe. Teachers took points and handed out detentions when things got too heated, but you were much more lenient. As a newly appointed professor, and romantic at heart, you didn't want to interfere unless a couple was truly out of line.

This was how your classroom came to house a rather large and elaborate sprig of mistletoe. A safe haven for secret snogging, it hung just inside the doorway. You had long grown used to the sight of it, to the point you forgot it was there most of the time.

A knock on the open door drew your attention from the essays you were marking. You looked up to find the friendly Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher standing in your doorway. He seldom visited your classroom like this.

"Remus! Something you need?"

You stood up from your desk, stretching. You'd been at it for hours, with no end in sight.

Remus held up a book as he stepped through the doorway. "You left this in my office yesterday. Thought I might return it."

"Oh, thank you. I was wondering where that had gotten to." Funny, you were certain you had it in your hand when you left his office yesterday.

You visited Remus a lot lately. Subtle flirting was the nature of your growing relationship ever since the start of term. The two of you danced around whatever was forming between you, little touches, and affectionate words amounting to nothing outright.

Remus's fingers brushed yours as you took the book. Your cheeks grew pink at the contact.

Looking at him now, seeing the mistletoe hanging from the stone above him, thoughts of kissing him kept bubbling to the surface of your mind.

"Quite an impressive display." Remus thumbed at the mistletoe behind him, catching you looking at it.

"You can thank my students for that," you told him, laughing. "I made the mistake of letting slip that I think kissing under the mistletoe is a romantic tradition. They think it gives them a free pass."

Remus chuckled, glancing away. "Yes, well…"

"Something on your mind, Remus? You seem a little distracted today."

"Yes, there is something on my mind, actually." He cleared his throat awkwardly. "You."

You faltered, setting the book on a nearby table. "Me?"

"Yes, you." He took a step closer, closing the distance between you.

"You're so beautiful, intelligent, kind…" He reached up to touch your face, fingers grazing your flushed cheek. "I have a hard time finding the right words."

You leaned towards his touch, closing your eyes at the sensation. "Those words sounded like a good start."

Remus's eyes locked on yours, your faces tilting closer. There was a pause just before your lips touched, the moment of anticipation hanging in the air.

Then Remus bent forward to kiss you.

His lips were soft and warm, mustache brushing against your skin with a whisper. You kissed him back softly, lips parting.

You'd thought about this moment, but the reality of Remus's lips on yours, surpassed every fantasy you've had.

He held the kiss, grasping at your waist to pull you closer. A hand ran up the back of your neck, cradling your head, fingers curling in your hair.

Your hands found his hips, your hold light and steadying. The kiss was sweet and tender and dizzying, and when Remus finally pulled away, you weren't sure which way was up.

Breathless, Remus touched his forehead to yours. "Then again, maybe words are overrated."

Remus's voice was soft, his breath ghosting over your cheeks.

You smiled up at him. "Maybe they are."

A noise in the hall startled you both, evicting you from the little world of your own you'd fallen into. Remus reluctantly let you go, stepping back.

You peered outside your classroom and into the hallway, finding two Hufflepuff girls, whispering and peeking around the corner. They were both in your class and fancied themselves a couple of matchmakers.

You folded your arms in front of your chest. "Miss Woodhouse? Miss Fairfax? Shouldn't you be packing for your holiday?"

Remus touched your shoulder as he moved past you into the hall. "We'll speak later?"

You answered him with a smile and a nod. The Hufflepuff girls erupted into giggles, looking pleased with themselves.

"Five points," you announced, and they fell silent. "To Hufflepuff. For getting into the Christmas spirit. Now, off with you."

The girls took off in another direction, while your eyes remained fixed on Remus. Feeling you staring, he threw you one more smile over his shoulder.

It was going to be a very happy Christmas.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x professor!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfiction

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https-florals · 2 years ago

Text

you said, baby, no attachments - r.c.

part one || part two

word count: 2k

summary: after a very stupid, very impulsive night with rafe, you make a lot of questionable decisions.

warnings: mentions of sex, suggestive!!! friends-with-benefits but without the friends, mentions of drinking, cursing, little angst, little fluff.

a/n: FIRST EVER RAFE FIC!!!!! i have such a massive crush on drew starkey and tbh i’m shocked ive waited this long to write my bae rafe. anywayssss if this doesnt flop lol there may or may not be a pt 2 im working on!!! my plan is for this to have four parts, but that could change and i might condense it. this is based on casual by chappell roan!!

Stupid things have good outcomes all the time. JJ lives by that phrase, and after hearing it for years, it’s rubbed off on you. But apparently, that’s not a good excuse in an argument with him, and here you are, palms sweaty and slipping off your bike handles, repeating the words over and over and over like you’re trying to convince yourself they’re true.

Today’s stupid thing? Responding to a text from none other than Rafe Cameron. Okay, that’s been your stupid thing for about a month.

You had a little thing going with Rafe. It started at a party, a drunk hookup, neither participant quite realizing who the other was until they woke up in bed together. You had practically run from Tannyhill like the house was on fire, only after both of you fought a little, fucked a little more, and then promised never to speak of it again. You had thought that this pact also entailed speaking to each other, but about a week later Rafe caught you at work, smiled at you, and hit you with some stupid line you couldn’t quite remember. Something about being the prettiest girl in the room, which wasn’t exactly hard, considering you were indeed the only girl in the room as you worked the counter at the country club’s pro shop. When he slipped back his signed receipt to you, there were 10 digits scrawled across the bottom below his signature.

“Rafe, what is this?” you had to ask, tone a mix between a laugh and a sigh.

He shrugged, and attempted to grab his bag and run out, but you slid the fancy paper bag away from him. “I thought that we said we weren’t gonna talk to each other anymore,” you had stated softly, smiling at the way his cheeks tinted a little pink.

“Nah, I said I didn’t wanna talk about it,” he stressed, “But talking to you is way different.”

You just rolled your eyes and pushed the bag back to him, and he waved you goodbye as he left.

You can count on one hand all the interactions you’ve had with that boy, and that had to be the oddest. Well, maybe not as odd as having sex with him.

A week passed before you texted him. It wasn’t for anything really important, a scolding, if anything. All you did was remind him that again, he can’t just randomly take his shirt off while golfing. It’s a sophisticated establishment, the old ladies complain, blah, blah, blah. His response?

rafe c. - so you’re saying i distract you?

Yes, unfortunately, that is exactly what you’re saying.

The situations just get weirder, when the first time the two of you hang out is when you call him for a ride to the grocery store. No one’s at the Chateau, you’re out of gas, and every form of transportation you could possibly steal for a bit is with their respective owners. You doubt you could’ve balanced on JJ’s bike anyways.

The ride is a little awkward, but by the end you feel.. Comfortable. At peace, almost, in the Kook prince’s passenger seat with his hand ghosting over your knee. In the grocery store, it’s painfully obvious Rafe has never been shopping for food in The Cut. He’s wrinkling his nose at the cheap prepackaged salmon you buy, with generic bread crumbs. But then he helps you comb through the bell peppers to find decent ones, and carries your groceries to his truck. He even lets you play whatever you want over the aux.

You’re waking up with him in your bed the next morning, pushing him out the window so no one sees him.

And that’s how it starts, and how it continues- brief text convos, long hangouts, good sex and fake nonchalance. He stays true to what he said, and you don’t talk about it. To anybody. That was the whole thing- it was understood that it was a secret. No strings attached, forbidden kind of kook and pogue relations that would have your friends livid.

So why are you so nervous on this particular evening? Maybe it’s because Rafe let it slip to Sarah that you’re hooking up. Maybe cause Sarah just had to say something to John B, who then told JJ, who then fought with you in front of the entire group. Everyone knows, and everyone is telling you you’re crazy. It’s not something you can handle, so when you see that Rafe asked you to come over, you’re hopping on your bike and speeding to Tannyhill.

When you get there, you automatically rush into Rafe’s room, a sweaty mess.

He’s laying on his bed, in just boxers as he scrolls on his phone. He jumps when you walk in, setting his phone down quick and standing up like you’re the queen or something.

Your gaze tracks to a bottle of lotion and a box of tissues on his nightstand, and you groan and fake gag as you flop facedown onto the mattress.

There’s an almost soundless little intake of air, but you do hear it, and cut Rafe off before he can even speak.

“I’m not helping you get off!” you declare loudly, and the boy visibly deflates.

“Come on,” he whines, like a little kid not getting his way. “You came in at the perfect time.”

You roll over so he’s in your peripheral vision, and huff. “I’m mad at you.”

He sticks his bottom lip out, a little mocking as he crawls onto the bed beside you. “Awe, what’d I do now?” Rafe lays on his side, head propped up on his hand as he watches you. He likes to watch the way his lamp reflects in your eyes, and how you roll your eyes everytime you catch him staring at you. His fingers creep up your side, but you push him off. Oh. You really are mad, he thinks.

“Why would you tell Sarah?” you ask, voice quiet as you stare him down. The apples of his cheeks turn a little pink, and his eyes widen.

“Uh, what did I tell her?” Rafe lies, because he remembers exactly what he said to Sarah, and the way her jaw dropped after he spoke.

“I just- I really like her, Sarah. Forget about the sex and all that shit. When I’m talking to her, it feels like…” He’s stumbling over his words, not quite able to say what he wants. “She’s fresh air, and I feel like I’ve been stuck in a room without windows, or some shit.”

He was never much of a poet. He also remembers the vise-like grip she had on his arm as she told him she would kill him if he ever hurt you. Rafe promised he could never.

But right now he lies, lies and tries to level his voice. He’s a little shocked that you believe him, or at least don’t press the topic further.

“You told her we were sleeping together!” You hiss, lightly smacking him on the side of his head.

He winces, but internally he’s heaving a sigh of relief. He makes a mental note to never get drunk with his sister ever again as you continue to rant. It’s something about the Pogues wanting to kill him (nothing new), along with a couple of jabs about how he’s just the worst, and that he's annoying, and blah, blah, blah. Rafe isn’t really listening, rather just thinking about his stupid decisions. One of which is looking real pretty as she yells at him. Pretty enough to fall in love with. He absentmindedly tucks your hair behind your ear and you instantly exhale, losing your train of thought altogether in record time. It’s like you have the attention span of a damn goldfish around him.

You just groan again, and murmur, “I can’t stand you,” right before you press your lips to his.

Rafe laughs against you, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. “Good thing you’re sitting on top of me then.”

His hands slip under your shirt, and your fingers push through his hair. The calluses on his hands scrape against the soft skin of your stomach and catch on the lace of your bra. Hard hands for daddy’s money, you think. Your fingers tuck against his jawline, cradling his face while his tongue slips against yours, his lips curling up when you make any little noise.

You pull back to catch your breath, and Rafe just stares up at you, kind of punchdrunk.

“Rafe?”

“Mhm?” He reaches up to brush his thumb over your lips.

You’re silent for a second as you think about what you’re about to say. ‘What- What are we doing?”

Rafe’s mouth is parted, and you can’t quite decipher his expression as you watch his eyes flick over your face. He swallows, and says, “Whatever you want.”

You don’t really hear him, and blurt out, “I need this to be casual.”

“Casual?” he repeats.

“Strictly like, sex. No strings attached.”

He sits up, pulling you with him so you’re still on his lap but he’s eye level to you. He’s hard underneath you, but you ignore it as you continue to speak.

“Okay, just sex. Why?”

It’s actually very hard to ignore, literally and figuratively. Rafe is thinking the same thing when you clear your throat and move a little on him, subconsciously.

You shrug. “Listen, I don’t have the time for anything more than that. Plus, we know we couldn’t date, like ever.”

He nods, fake-stretching as a means to buck up against you. “And why couldn’t we date?” When you give him an incredulous look, he continues, “Just to play devil’s advocate. Not that I don’t agree with you, cause I totally do. I just wanna know what you’re like, thinking, if we’re on the same wavelength, or whatever…” He trails off, knowing he’s babbling and should stop.

You laugh a little nervously. “Okay, Cameron.” You take a deep breath, and hope that what you’re about to say makes sense. “I have an itch to scratch, and the only thing I want to do is scratch that itch.” You pause to think. “Itch that scratch?”

“You had it right the first time,” Rafe laughs, but the lilt of it is a little annoyed.

“Okay, whatever. Anyway, you’re good at scratching that itch.”

He grins with pride, bottom lip tucked between his teeth, and just the way he’s looking at you makes you squirm.

“Really good at scratching that itch,” you exhale a little shaky. “But y’know, I don’t really like you as a person.”

His eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide. “The fuck? Thanks a lot.”

“You’re an asshole, Rafe. Plain and simple. I’m not trying to be a bitch, but come on.” You’re thinking of all the times he’s been an absolute dick to your friends.

He’s thinking about all the things he’d lay down for you. “Not to you.”

Your words evidently sting him a bit, and you go red. You hadn’t really meant to hurt him.

You groan. “You know what I mean. My friends hate you. We just couldn’t work.”

Rafe doesn’t really know what to say. This isn’t really the way he thought this would go, but then again, what did he really expect? Everything is jumbled in his head, and all he wants to do is get high and forget about the conversation. But, even though you basically just told him that he's unlikable, you’re still regrettably pretty, and still on top of him. He grips your hips hard, holding you in place as he rolls against you. “So fuck buddies, but we can’t stand each other?” One hand snakes underneath your shirt to unclip your bra, and he does it faster than you can blink.

“Exactly,” you say somewhere in between both of your shirts coming off. “Just stress relief.”

His hands are hot all over you. There’s a hardness in his gaze that’s so different from the softness of his touch.

“We have to have rules,” you manage to state when you’re shimmying out of your shorts, breathing hard while Rafe toys with the little pink bow on your panties.

“Whatever you want, pretty girl.”

It’s a filler phrase, you think. He must desperate for you to shut up and fuck him, so he’s saying anything.

He’s still thinking about how he’d do anything for you. Anything.

You still for a second to catch your breath, and say, “No feelings. No staying overnight. And we can’t go anywhere together that we would be seen.”

“Why not?” Rafe groans as your clothed heat slips over him.

“Rafe! People will talk. They’ll think…”

He presses a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. “That we’re fucking? Well, hate to break it to ya, baby, but we kinda already are.”

“And no calling me baby.”

Rafe ignores you and slips his hand between your legs, and you forget that you’re supposed to hate him.

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

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wannaeatramyeon · 2 years ago

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I just thought what type of personality is thier child like and what type of dad they are.

Example: Daniel's child will be a chubby child like he is, probably shy and cute child. Daniel would be a dad that give confident to his child so they won't exprience hardship like and also both of them will have a shenanigans of eating in the middle of the night.

Gun's child would be mini Gun but doesn't look for fight like his dad. You can say the child is more of gentleman than Gun tendency. The child probably be like "Mom, How and why did you marry dad" Points at thier father who is rampaging in fight.

Thanks for the ask Sam and sorry it's taken so long 😭

Agree with your HC altho I wonder if Daniel might swing too much the other way being a health nut (after all the bullying and Lookism) and you would have to help him find a happy medium??

Lookism Boys as dads + what their kid is like

Wow that's a mouthful. HC for Jake Kim, Samuel Seo, Warren Chae, Goo Kim, Ryuhei Kuroda, Eugene, Vasco, Zack Lee, Johan Seong

General HC

Most would take after their dad and be at least adept with fighting

Unless specified they would turn out pretty ok. We all know the flaws these men have (except Jake he can do no wrong 🙏) so the coparent needs to balance that out

Jake and Samuels kids would be bff, much to chagrin of Samuel lol. He ends up seeing Jake far too much for his liking but his kid is happy so what can he do

Warren's kid and Yenna bff. Duh

Goo's and Ryuhei's hate each other at first. Always getting each other into trouble. Until. Wow, think of the chaos we can cause TOGETHER

Gun's kid IMO would probably get on with someone like Eugene's. But would be hilarious if they got swept into the Vasco/Zack/Johan dynamic

Eugene's is a bit of a loner. All the fancy upbringing means they have connections and networks rather than close friends 😔

Vasco's, Zack's and Johan's would be like siblings. Constantly pick on and insult each other. They're allowed to. But if someone joins in - WTF DID YOU JUST SAY?? YOU WANNA FIGHT?

Jake Kim

As a dad

Listen. I don't know whether my levels of delusion are way off with this man but he can do no wrong. He would be the best dad, best househusband. He would be harsh but fair and sooo much fun. Unfortunately your kid would be spoilt rotten with all the Big Deal Uncles and Auntie.

The kid

Like father like son/daughter. Absolute unwavering sense of right and wrong, maybe sometimes not too understanding of the shades of grey. A confident kid and heartbreaker - not purposely tho but their rizz will be off the charts like their dad. Of course a natural born leader. That runs in the family too.

Warren Chae

As a dad

Oof. If you thought he was protective over Sally then you have another thing coming. Needs a bit of talking around to give them their freedom and experiences. Apart from that you really can't complain. Warren has an infinite amount of patience. Also reads to them all the time to stop himself missing out words.

The kid

The cutest kind-hearted little soul! Would just be so nice and sweet! Super well adjusted and surrounded by loving adults (Hostel), and also Grandpa Manager Kim. Yknow the kids who are also constantly dirty? Like constant speck of dirt on their face? Yeah also that.

Samuel Seo

As a dad

It might be better if you're a single parent because he is gonna pass on some gnarly generational trauma. Your child will either end up like a mini-Samuel or fingers crossed there will be shitloads of therapy (for daddy and child).

The kid

Strives for perfection, and super ambitious. There's no avoiding some traits. Another natural leader, but rules less with an iron first than Sammy. Would be vain af, and looks after their appearance a LOT. A bit shallow and judgemental but will eventually grow out of it.

Goo Kim

As a dad

Shrewd af and always knows what's going on. Good luck to their kid because there is no lying to Goo. He'll play along and then drop the hammer. However, a bit too lenient so you would have to be the disciplinarian. Lets the kid just get on with things and learn by experience. "Oh you wanna play with the sword? Have fun!" "GOO NO-!"

The kid

Little shit. Sorry there's just no way they wouldn't be a mouthy little asshole. Goo would make sure they respect the parents, but otherwise they are a danger to society. A troublemaker. Figures out all the loopholes to any rules and laws... A constant headache but you can't help but be impressed.

Gun Park

As a dad

Does a lot of research before their kid is born. This guy is pretty thorough with things he is interested in, so if he's taking an active part in the kid's life then he will be meticiulous. Initially. Then, like Goo, will let their kid make their own mistakes. Otherwise, very hands on, doesn't believe in outdated parental roles. After all, this is Gun's ultimate masterpiece.

The kid

Christ. This kid could be the most intimidating child to have ever lived. Not as intense as their dad, but they are playing 5D chess while everyone else is just learning their shapes and numbers. They're cocky and confident, with the skills to back it up.

Ryuhei Kuroda

As a dad

Extremely similar to Goo imo. Would also love to embarrass the kid. Not purposely mind, just he can't keep his hands off or kissing you and no kid needs to see their parents so grossly in love.

The kid

An absolute menace, just like their dad. Huge prankster, mostly harmless. Don't get them together with Goo's kid because jfc they would be absolute terrors together. Unlike their dad in his youth, they would respect the shit out of women. You've seen to that.

Eugene

As a dad

Probably a little cold and severe, putting a bit too much emphasis on grades and perfection. Despite that, would actually be pretty good. Someone that reads up a lot on how to raise a kid, bonding with them etc etc. to form a somewhat healthy relationship.

The kid

Private school little wunderkind. Will grow up with the absolute best of everything and spoilt too so you would need to keep them grounded. Expected to take over Workers. Business acument and ambition will be drilled into them from an early age.

Vasco

As a dad

What is there to say about Tabasco that we don't already know. Would dote on them hand and foot. An absolute pushover! Their kid pulls out the puppy eyes and it's game over. Would teach them to protect themselves but probably draw the line at anything more.

The kid

Really creative? Vasco would place less emphasis on grades and would help to nurture their interest in the arts. But actually super smart too thanks to Uncle Jace's influence. Tbh I think the kid would be pretty perfect and with the kindest heart and stands up to bullies just like dad!

Zack Lee

As a dad

So so similar to Vasco. Has all these ideas on what they should and shouldn't do as a parent. Kid pops out, and Zack's a goner. Literally would do anything and everything for their child. Go absolutely crazy with pride if the kid is interested in boxing.

The kid

Would have no game... Like dad. Sorry. Good job they would be good looking af to even it out. Not a huge emphasis on education and grades thanks to Zack's influence. More focused on athletics. A little shallow and arrogant, but a huge softy underneath.

Johan Seong

As a dad

Panic and anxiety from the day their kid was born and every day after. First because of worrying about their eyes, second because he's just not comfortable with having an actual dependent. Tries to teach them about the evils of the world. Eventually chills out overall and reverts back to being the gentle-hearted boy he used to be.

The kid

For practical reasons, taught braille from an early age just in case. But otherwise a mini-Johan but without the trauma. Very softly spoken and sweet. Just an absolute ray of sunshine. Always accompanied by their dog, their bff and partner when a fight arises.

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darksigns-exe · 6 months ago

Text

it's just you and me now - nicholas ruffilo x jolly karlsson

warnings: swearing, anal sex (m receiving), a lot of feelings

word count: 3.2k

masterlist | Part 1 | taglist sign-up

They’ve been home for almost three days and Nick still hasn’t been able to stop thinking about her. It doesn’t help that they’ve been texting basically non-stop.

He doesn’t know why it’s so different this time. He’s sure that it wasn’t jealousy - maybe it is in a weirdly twisted way because he never wanted to get involved with it as much as that night.

Nick had very quickly figured out that he liked to watch Jolly with other people, but that he didn't necessarily need to get involved. He’s more than fine with watching Jolly. And then they’d picked her up, and now everything feels different. Nick doesn’t quite know what this is going to be. All he knows is that he feels his chest warm just a little bit when her name pops up on the screen of his phone.

He’s kept himself busy working on his art, trying his hardest to avoid the conversation they should probably have. It’s not that he doesn’t want to have it, or that he’s afraid of it. It’s rather that he knows that it’ll change things, and Nick isn’t sure that he could deal with that kind of change. The fear that it this could bring the end of them lingers somewhere in the back of his mind, no matter how genuinely irrational it is.

He successfully manages to hide away in his little office for another hour, before a knock sounds on the door. Nick can’t bring himself to reply. Another knock.

“Nick?” he hears Jolly ask from the other side of the door, “Can I come in, darling?”

The pet name always makes him shudder a little.

“Door’s open.”

Jolly pushes into the room, a steaming cup of something in hand.

“Thought you might want a coffee?” He places the cup on the desk in front of him, before he places his hands firmly on Nick’s shoulders, “What’re you working on?”

He’d been smart enough to slam his sketchbook shut before Jolly had entered. Nick doesn’t need to know that the visual of him hovering over their pretty little bed guest had burned itself into his mind.

“Nothing important.” he replies quickly, fully knowing that Jolly won’t let it go that easily.

“Everything you do is important.” Jolly presses a kiss to his cheek, “I won’t force you, though.”

Nick feels his arms slide down, as Jolly leans on top of him a little more comfortably. The weight of him settles the anxious mess of nerves in his belly a little bit.

“Are you still going back to Noah’s later?” Nick asks, hoping that he’ll say no.

“Already been. You’ve been hiding away in here all day, Nick. It’s almost four.”

He’s suddenly so very aware of the ache in his back, the oncoming cramp in his hand. He hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed.

“Alright.” Jolly tightens his grip around him a little more, “Enough work for you. You’re coming with me.”

Another kiss is pressed to his cheek. Jolly detaches himself from him. Nick knows that he can’t worm his way out of this, and so he shuts down the computer. He doesn’t know why he’s so hesitant to let Jolly see what he’s been working on.

Jolly waits patiently for him, wraps his arm around his middle when Nick tries to pass him.

“Do you want to go out for dinner? We haven’t been on a real date in ages.” Jolly says as he walks him into the kitchen.

They’ve gone out, sure, but it’s been a while since one of their outings was actually marketed as a date.

“Doesn’t have to be fancy, either. We can just go to the Italian around the corner?”

It’ll be nice to get out of the house for a couple of hours.

They’d found this particular restaurant not long after they’d moved here. A cosy little spot just down the street from the apartment.

Things had somehow just fallen into place. The romantic side of their relationship had always felt like a natural progression. And the decision to find a place to share had been easy. Finding a good place on the other hand had been a struggle.

In the end, Nick thinks that he couldn’t have made a better choice. It’s a comparatively small neighbourhood, a good thirty minutes from where Noah lives. They have their regular places where people know their names, their orders, and really that’s all he could ask for.

They’re not even through the door when they’re asked if they want their usual orders. Jolly leads the way to their favourite little spot. A seat in a quiet corner, perfect for long talks. It’s nice to have time for each other like this.

“How was the studio?” Nick asks, while they wait for their orders.

“Good. We got everything on the plan done.” It’s a surprisingly curt answer, “You wanna tell me what’s been eating at you? You’ve been quiet since we got

back.” Jolly’s hand finds its way on top of his, all warm and comforting, “I know we haven’t had a lot of time to talk about all of that.”

Nick turns their joined hands over so that he can entangle their fingers. Jolly lets him manipulate their hands to his heart's content. At least for a while.

“Nick?” he finally asks, “You know that you can tell me everything, right? I just need you to talk to me.”

He’s silent for a moment longer, before he finds the courage to will the words past his lips.

“I’m still thinking about it.”

“Her?”

“That entire night.”

Jolly nods in a familiarly solemn way, “She was different. It didn’t feel like the other times. Not just because you joined us.”

“You just looked so good together. I couldn’t help myself.” Nick feels himself smile around the words.

“Is that the only reason you came over? Nick, I know you. You never get involved with it, it’s okay if it made you feel —”

“I’m not jealous.” He snaps before Jolly gets a chance to say it.

“I wasn’t going to suggest that.” Jolly replies calmly, “All I was going to say is that it’s fine if it made you feel different this time. Even if that’s jealous. You’ll always be my number one.”

Nick doesn’t think that it’s jealousy in the traditional sense. It’s more akin to regret. He wishes that he’d allowed himself to join them sooner. At the same time, Jolly seemed to enjoy his time with her alone just fine. Nick knows that he’s the one who said that he’d be fine with just watching. He hadn’t really expected that he’d ever change his mind on that.

“I can’t read your thoughts, darling. You’ll have to say what’s on your mind if you want me to do something about it.”

“When you said she felt different. Did she — was it better than —”

A wave of sudden realisation that washes over Jolly’s face, “Oh god no. I know this all went different from how it normally does, but that doesn’t change anything about us. Whatever we do with her going forward is a decision we make together. If you don’t feel comfortable with it, it doesn’t have to happen again. No hard feelings extends to us too. I want you to feel good about this. If you can’t in good conscience say that you want us to meet her again, we don’t have to.”

Nick doesn’t get to say much more as the waiter arrives with their orders, and really he doesn’t need everyone to know that he likes to watch his boyfriend fuck other people from time to time.

He mulls over the whole thing while they eat. Tries to figure out how he can adequately express that he wants to see her again and that his misplaced jealousy doesn’t come from them doing this, but rather from him not getting to feel as much of her as he had wanted.

Their little date had turned into a little stroll around the neighbourhood, into a few drinks with friends, and when they fall back through the door it’s almost ten. He’s tired, but not so tired that he doesn’t feel a little restless.

He can’t wipe the image of them from his mind, and he needs something else to replace it with. Something that’ll take his mind off it entirely.

Nick finds Jolly in the kitchen, typing away at his phone. He contemplates his approach for a moment before deciding to unceremoniously drape himself over the other's back.

“I’ll be with you in a moment. Just let me text Ma-”

“No.”

Jolly stops abruptly, thumbs hovering over the screen, “No?”

“Now.”

He places his phone on the counter, stands still for a breath before he turns around to face Nick.

“Demanding. Alright.” His hands find their way to the sides of Nick’s face, “What do you need from me? Talk to me, my love.”

“I think I just need to know that I’m yours.” Nick admits, sounding a little more meek than he’d hoped.

Jolly pulls him in for a kiss, all soft and gentle.

“You’re always mine. But I’ll gladly give you a reminder.” His voice is so soft, so tender.

Nick loves when he sounds likes that. That tone always sinks into the cracks of his mind. It settles in between the parts of him that doubt and binds them back together. Jolly has always been good at solving his issues. He picked up on Nick’s insecurities early on and did whatever he could to diminish them. Nick knows that he can’t rely on him to solve all of his problems, but when Jolly tends to him like that, he swears that all of his troubles disappear.

Jolly guides him into their bedroom, hands still interlinked.

Nick sinks down on the mattress, Jolly towering in front of him. He’s captured in another searing kiss. He shifts further up the bed, Jolly chasing after him so that they won’t be apart for long. The weight of his body is comforting against Nicks. He’s warm and broad and when he slots himself between Nick’s thighs like this, he couldn’t ask for more. Jolly shoves his t-shirt upwards somewhat unceremoniously. As soon as his skin is bared, the others hands drift up his sides. Lips soon find his neck, and he gasps when Jolly leaves his first mark on his skin.

He feels dizzy with it already.

Nick sighs when the tip of his tongue flicks across his nipple.

“You always sound so pretty for me.” He hears Jolly say, but the words feel warped and distorted by the time they reach his ears.

Between his hands and lips, Nick doesn’t know what he’s supposed to focus on first. He settles on the way his fingers feel so light and tender when they descend towards the waistband of his jeans. He squirms when Jolly’s fingers brush along his sides.

Another bruise is sucked into the skin just below his ribs. Nick can’t possibly keep his eyes open when Jolly treats him so well.

“Lift your hips for me, love.”

He follows quickly and allows Jolly to remove the garments from his body. Nick sighs when he feels his hands drift along his thighs, down his calves. The attention Jolly gives him is unlike anything he’s experienced before. It’s almost overwhelming at times.

“Get comfortable for me, I’ll be right back with you.”

Jolly places a barely there kiss against his cheek, before he pulls away and begins to strip his own clothes down. Nick watches as he moves across the room, gathering a few things, before he’s back in front of him.

Jolly lowers himself across his body, and Nick feels the room dim behind him. His vision narrows down on the man in front of him. He’s not sure that he’ll ever get used to this.

Nick feels one of Jolly’s large hands skating across the inside of his thigh again. Jolly makes space for himself here.

“You wanna get on your knees for me, love?”

He doesn’t have to be asked twice. When he sits up to move, Jolly pulls him in for a quick kiss. Hands cover his hips, adjusting his position until he’s exactly where Jolly wants him.

“Gonna be cold for a second.” he warns, before he feels a lube slicked finger brush against him.

He’s somewhat used to this by now, but the first push of his thick finger still makes him shiver. He whines at the feeling, the stretch of it. Jolly always takes his time with him, always makes sure that he’s sufficiently prepared for the next step. It’s still a lot. Especially tonight. Nick knows that he won’t last long, but he also knows that Jolly won’t stop until he’s reduced to a whining mess.

By the time Jolly works a second finger into him, Nick is unable to hold himself up and lets his body sag against the pillow. He whines so unashamed when Jolly’s fingers curl into him just right.

“You should see yourself.” Jolly says, sounding almost a little cruel, “You’re a mess already, and we’ve barely started. Looks like you really need this, huh?”

Nick only gives a whine of his name in reply, already struggling to keep his composure up.

“I want you to cum like this first. Can you do that for me, love?”

Nick tries to turn his head so that he can catch a glimpse of him, “Yes. Please.”

“Do you need more than this, or are my fingers enough?”

“More — I need more.”

Without further question, Jolly’s hand leaves his waist and wraps around his already leaking cock. The touch is too light, too gentle for what he really needs, but he can’t bring himself to be bratty about it tonight. Jolly knows how to switch his brain off entirely, and he’ll trust him with this, even if it means that he won’t get what he wants immediately. It really doesn’t take much for him to spill his release on to the duvet below. He curses when it hits him. The warmth that blooms through him is so very comforting.

The hand around his cock disappears all too soon, and he barely registers Jolly humming contently behind him. Nick winces, shifts uncomfortably when Jolly goes to remove his fingers from him again.

“I know.” he soothes, “It’s a lot — fuck I love how sensitive you are. Do you need a moment?”

Nick shifts his hips back against him, trying to get back into contact.

“Don’t stop.” he whines, feeling not an ounce of shame for the desperation in his voice, “Please don’t stop.”

A gentle kiss is pressed to his shoulder, before Jolly adjusts his position behind him. Despite what comes next, Jolly is always so gentle and careful with him when he presses inside. He takes his time, reacting to the sounds Nick makes and stilling when he feels him tense around his cock. He pauses for a moment when his waist presses against Nick’s backside.

The hand on his waist drifts along his back and over his shoulder. For now, it remains there, as Jolly begins his slow and steady rhythm. Every thrust into him unravels a little more of that knot in his tummy.

“God you feel so fucking good.” Jolly groans above him, “You’re always so good for me.”

His pace picks up rather quickly. The harsh thrusts push Nick further into the pillows. The constant stream of whines that falls from his lips is muffled by the fabric below. Jolly’s hand grips into his waist, pulling back against him over and over again. It’s all so much.

“I’m the only one who gets to have you like this.” Jolly sounds a little worn down already, but that commanding edge is this so very present, “You love being all mine, don’t you?”

Nick can only whine in response, unable to find the right words. He feels spread thin in the best way possible. The ends of his nerves feel frayed and raw. Every thrust Jolly gives into him sends him closer and closer to the edge. It’s dizzying. Above him, Jolly continues to whisper the sweetest filth to him. The words wrap around his mind, unravelling whatever bit of anxiety still had a grip on him. Nick feels himself falling apart faster than he had hoped. His release hits him before he’s really ready for it again. The desperate whines that fall from his lips rise in pitch and frequency as Jolly works him through his orgasm. Just when Nick thinks that he can’t take more of it, he feels Jolly spill inside of him. He rests himself against Nick’s back, his chest warm and heaving as he rides out the final waves of his own climax. Warm breath spills against the side of Nick’s neck, before he feels lips pressing against his skin.

“You’ll always be mine, Nick. Always. Nothing and no one can change that.” another kiss, nearer to the edge of his jaw this time, “I love you.”

Nick barely manages to return the words, still feeling so utterly breathless.

After an indulgently long shower, Nick finds himself curled up in front of Jolly. The comforting weight of his arm around his middle soothes the last shreds of worry. He knows that Jolly would never leave him for someone else just like that, and by now he isn’t even sure that that was what he had actually agonised over.

Since they had left the hotel that morning, Nick had wondered what her hands would feel like on his body, how she would feel around him. He’d always gravitated more towards men, but he can’t deny that she’d wrapped herself around his mind entirely after just one night. And he hadn’t even been involved with the goings-on. He can’t imagine what it’d be like if he actually gets to feel her touch on his skin.

“We’ll talk in the morning, okay?” Jolly asks quietly, “Try to get some sleep.”

Nick turns the thought over in his head a few times. He isn’t entirely sure how he’s supposed to breach that conversation. It feels impossibly big, and he knows that it’ll change so much about them.

He decides that he’ll leave the page from his sketchbook in a place where Jolly is guaranteed to find it within the next few minutes. And he’s barely back in his little office when he hears Jolly approaching. He doesn’t knock this time and instead pushes into the room, thought the ajar door.

“So that’s what it looked like from your angle?” Jolly asks, and Nick doesn’t have to turn around to know that he has that amused smile plastered across his face.

“I told you that it looked good.” Nick finds himself sounding awfully quiet.

Out of the corner of his vision, he sees Jolly come towards him. He squats down next to Nick’s chair.

“Look at me, will you?” there’s a trace of concern in his voice that stings just a little bit, “Nick, you know that it’s okay if it affected you, right? It’s perfectly fine if you’re curious about her. Just because it hasn’t happened before doesn’t mean that it’s not okay.”

“I just can’t stop thinking about her.”

“I know. I don’t know what it is about that one either.” Jolly takes Nick’s hands into his, “We’ll figure this out too. This doesn’t have to become anything at all. It can just be a once in a while thing, if that’s what we all want. Whatever it ends up being, we’ll be just fine.” Nick’s hands flex around Jolly’s, “Promise?”

Jolly presses a gentle kiss to the back of his hands, “Promise.”

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