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#can’t believe 2022 is almost over
doctorseward · 2 years
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sorry i took a break from tumblr for a few weeks and within that time, we got
-frank and gerard’s matching “piss and vinegar” shirts
-motor oil (or dirt?? mud???) gerard
-mikey being audible in the vampire money intro
-“sit. stay. beg.” on the drum
-ray’s slowly disintegrating shirt
-gerard joking about drinking piss????
-gerard in short shorts
-gerard in a poncho-robe-thing
-gerard fighting a printer named stewart AND LOSING
this tour has been incredible
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fiercynn · 25 days
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on ao3's current fundraiser
apparently it’s time for ao3’s biannual donation drive, which means it’s time for me to remind you all, that regardless of how much you love ao3, you shouldn’t donate to them because they HAVE TOO MUCH MONEY AND NO IDEA WHAT TO DO WITH IT.
we’ve known for years that ao3 – or, more specifically, the organization for transformative works (@transformativeworks on tumblr), or otw, who runs ao3 and other fandom projects – has a lot of money in their “reserves” that they had no plans for. but in 2023, @manogirl and i did some research on this, and now, after looking at their more recent financial statements, i’ve determined that at the beginning of 2024, they had almost $2.8 MILLION US DOLLARS IN SURPLUS.
our full post last year goes over the principles of how we determined this, even though the numbers are for 2023, but the key points still stand (with the updated numbers):
when we say “surplus”, we are not including money that they estimate they need to spend in 2024 for their regular expenses. just the extra that they have no plan for
yes, nonprofits do need to keep some money in reserves for emergencies; typically, nonprofits registered in the u.s. tend to keep enough to cover between six months and two years of their regular operating expenses (meaning, the rough amount they need each month to keep their services going). $2.8 million USD is enough to keep otw running for almost FIVE YEARS WITHOUT NEW DONATIONS
they always overshoot their fundraisers: as i’m posting this, they’ve already raised $104,751.62 USD from their current donation drive, which is over double what they’ve asked for! on day two of the fundraiser!!
no, we are not trying to claim they are embezzling this money or that it is a scam. we believe they are just super incompetent with their money. case in point: that surplus that they have? only earned them $146 USD in interest in 2022, because only about $10,000 USD of their money invested in an interest-bearing account. that’s the interest they earn off of MILLIONS. at the very least they should be using this extra money to generate new revenue – which would also help with their long-term financial security – but they can’t even do that
no, they do not need this money to use if they are sued. you can read more about this in the full post, but essentially, they get most of their legal services donated, and they have not, themselves, said this money is for that purpose
i'm not going to go through my process for determining the updated 2024 numbers because i want to get this post out quickly, and otw actually had not updated the sources i needed to get these numbers until the last couple days (seriously, i've been checking), but you can easily recreate the process that @manogirl and i outlined last year with these documents:
otw’s 2022 audited financial statement, to determine how much money they had at the end of 2022
otw’s 2024 budget spreadsheet, to determine their net income in 2023 and how much they transferred to and from reserves at the beginning of 2024
otw’s 2022 form 990 (also available on propublica), which is a tax document, and shows how much interest they earned in 2022 (search “interest” and you’ll find it in several places)  
also, otw has not been accountable to answering questions about their surplus. typically, they hold a public meeting with their finance committee every year in september or october so people can ask questions directly to their treasurer and other committee members; as you can imagine, after doing this deep dive last summer, i was looking forward to getting some answers at that meeting!
but they cancelled that meeting in 2023, and instead asked people to write to the finance committee through their contact us form online. fun fact: i wrote a one-line message to the finance committee on may 11, 2023 through that form, when @manogirl and i were doing this research, asking them for clarification on how much they have in their reserves. i have still not received a response.
so yeah. please spend your money on people who actually need it, like on mutual aid requests! anyone who wants to share their mutual aid requests, please do so in the replies and i’ll share them out – i didn’t want to link directly to individual requests without permission in case this leads to anyone getting harassed, but i would love to share your requests. to start with, here's operation olive branch and their ongoing spreadsheet sharing palestinian folks who need money to escape genocide.
oh, and if you want to write to otw and tell them why you are not donating, i'm not sure it’ll get any results, but it can’t hurt lol. here's their contact us form – just don’t expect a response! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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70sscifiart · 5 months
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Wow, last month you can post this John Solie poster art! Can't believe 2022 is almost over
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ktgoodmorning · 17 days
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That awkward smile
Alexia Putellas x reader
You return to Barcelona and are faced with having your ex as your captain
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Masterlist
“What are you doing here?” you jumped slightly as you heard the one voice you were dreading the most when you transferred to Barcelona, your ex. It was your first day at the training grounds, meeting with different administrative staff to finish paperwork and do your medical assessments. Your transfer hadn’t been announced yet but for some reason you assumed that Alexia would’ve known since she was captain. 
You stopped to look up at her. It was the first time you had seen each other in over a year. Of course you had seen pictures online, and seen her in passing at different awards nights, but you hadn’t truly been face to face in a long time. You knew that obviously she would be your captain after you transferred here, but hadn’t mentally prepared to see her so soon, before you had really made it inside. 
“I’m transferring here, just finalizing everything today.” There was an awkward tension in the air as you spoke, saying only the bare minimum in hopes of ending the conversation as quickly as possible. You knew it was going to be uncomfortable between you at first but it had been long enough and the two of you were professional enough that you figured it would get better with time. 
“Oh!” the blonde looked at you surprised, clearly not having been told this news ahead of time. Although you noticed how the corners of her mouth turned up slightly, definitely not angry about your presence, but still struggling to decide what she wanted to say. “Well… I’m sure you’ll be a good addition to the pitch. Let me know if you need anything while you get settled here.” You gave her a short nod, grateful for her breaking the tension between you and hopefully putting your shared past behind you. 
The two of you had dated years ago. You had played together on the Spanish national team for most of your lives before you started dating. You were together for almost two years, most of that time being really great. But once you decided to leave the national team after the 2022 Euros, it was the beginning of the end for your relationship. After you left the national team, the two of you rarely saw each other due to you playing in the WSL. You were both young and busy and the long distance destroyed the connection between you. She was focused on her recovery and you were focused on your career. The stress in your lives and the distance between you led to both of you frequently taking your anger out on each other, eventually putting an end to your relationship. 
You loved Alexia. When your relationship was at its best, you were the epitome of a classic football power couple. Everyone was rooting for you, including you. She was so good to you. You both were fiercely independent and made room for that in your relationship, always having the space you needed to continue to develop. You made each other better in almost every way. All your friends and family could see it, you pushed each other in exactly the way you needed, in ways that most people couldn’t. 
It was hard to forget the way you loved her, the way she loved you. At some point, you knew you wanted to talk to her, have a real conversation about all of it. Your breakup had been rough, both of you had said things you shouldn’t have, both of you left hurt and without closure. It wasn’t either of your fault’s- you each played a role in your own downfall. You hoped at the very least, you had matured enough to get the closure you needed and put your past behind you, if nothing else, for the success of the team. 
.
You were in the middle of doing media photos when you heard another familiar voice. “Zorri, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming here! I had to find out through Alexia?!” 
“Mapi!!!” you took off running towards her, fully abandoning the photographer so you could practically tackle the defender in a hug. “I wanted to surprise you! I missed you!” 
Mapi was one of your best friends. You were bonded closely from your similar experiences with the national team and had been there for each other through it all, no matter how far away you were. She was one of the only reasons you still visited Spain frequently, always staying close no matter how far away you lived. Mapi had been there for the breakup between you and Alexia and had seen how hard it had been on both of you. Honestly, she was half the reason you had transferred to Barcelona. Of course you wanted to see her more often, but more than that, she had given you the confidence you needed to trust that you could succeed there amongst some of the greatest players in the world. 
“I missed you, it’s been too long since you came to see me.” The Zaragozan gave you a playful glare wrapping her arm around your shoulders to keep you close. 
“Well now I don’t have to visit you cause I’ll be living here!” 
“It’s about time you did! Ingrid will be happy that she doesn’t have to worry about me hogging the phone when you call.” 
“Yeah well now I’ll finally get to talk to Ingrid again, won’t I?” she gave you a little shove as she rolled her eyes while you just laughed at her, happy to finally be back with your best friend. 
“Hey I’ll wait for you to finish up your media, then I can take you to go say hi to everyone? We all just finished up on the pitch.” You gave her a nod before going back to the photographer that you had left behind to wrap up the few pictures you had left. 
.
Most of the team you already knew from your time with the national team or through Mapi, but you were still somewhat nervous to officially meet them. Barcelona was known for being a tight knit team and you were nervous to have to come into that. Of course your history with Alexia didn’t help matters- did she tell people about you? Do they know how poorly your breakup went? What if they all hate you because they think you hurt her? 
Having Mapi by your side as she led you to the locker room brought you some amount of comfort. At the very least, you knew she and Ingrid would always have your back, no matter what happened with the rest of the team. But even next to your best friend, you were most nervous about facing Alexia again. Even though you had already seen her briefly in the hallway earlier, something about this felt different- more official. Now you had signed all the papers and there was no going back, making it all the more terrifying. 
Just in front of the locker room doors, Mapi stopped you to try to give you some encouragement before facing the entire team waiting for you on the other side of the door. She took both of your hands in hers and looked at you closely, “Hey, look at me. You’re gonna be fine. You know most of them already, and we all already love you, you don’t need to be so nervous.” You nodded at her, thankful she could read your thoughts so easily. “Vamos bien?”
The defender pulled you in for a quick hug before leading you through the doors to face the team. 
The team seemed to be all smiles as Mapi introduced you, ready to welcome you with open arms. Very few of the girls were new to you and they seemed to all be unaware of your history with their captain, who you had a difficult time tearing your gaze from. The blonde kept her eyes on the ground, barely looking up at you as you made your way around the room to talk with everyone. 
Everyone knew how unusual it was for Alexia to be this quiet and shy around the team. With other people, sure, but not with the team. Especially when it involved a new signing, the captain would normally be the first one to greet them and introduce them to everyone. Some people knew that you had dated, anyone who had been on the national team at the time had seen it first hand, but most people knew nothing about your breakup. All of them were used to teammates dating and breaking up so it didn’t phase them. The weird part of all of it was Alexia’s current behavior, and how she suddenly appeared extremely insecure. 
As you made your way around the locker room, she finally was able to look up at you when you got closer. You approached her slowly, unsure of what you were supposed to say, noticing the tight lipped smile she gave you. For Alexia, you knew her well enough to know that the awkward half-smile was her attempt at being normal, just not fully sure how to do so. If she was truly mad at you, it’d be much more clear to you, knowing she wouldn’t have made any kind of attempt to be nice.
 You gave her a soft smile in return, pulling her into a friendly hug, almost as a thank you for her not holding your past against you. The hug was supposed to be short, just a friendly gesture to show your forgiveness, but apparently the blonde had other plans. She held onto you tightly, much longer than you had anticipated before she pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder and pulled away. Her hands remained on your shoulders so she could talk to you before you moved on to say hello to the next person. “Can we get coffee or something sometime so we can talk?” 
“I’d like that, Ale. Are you free after this?” She gave you a big smile, the first you’d seen from her, before nodding. Her large hands gave your shoulders a squeeze before letting go to allow you to keep talking to your new teammates. 
The idea of getting to talk to Alexia, finally getting the closure that you never got before, maybe being on good terms again- it all made you excited. Should you try to be friends again? It might be really great for you, you obviously had been close in the past, maybe a friendship would work better. You knew in the back of your head that you still loved her. How could you not? But you’d push that thought down as far as you possibly could, knowing it wasn’t what you needed at the moment. You just wanted to be on good terms again. 
The room started to empty out as everyone was tired from the day of training and ready to go home. You slowly made your way back to Alexia’s cubby, waiting for her to finish changing and getting ready after her shower. The blonde made her way back to you, still drying her hair with a towel before looking at you, almost as if she were surprised you actually waited for her. “You know, I always knew you’d look good in some Barca stuff,” she nodded down at the plethora of Barcelona apparel you had been given to wear. 
You raised your brow at her, her confidence clearly returning, “Is this your attempt at flirting with me Putellas?”
“That depends, is it working?” The blonde smirked back at you, feeling much more comfortable now that the rest of the time wasn’t around to watch. She just chuckled at the way you rolled your eyes at her, grabbing her bag as she did so. “Ready to go? I can drive you if you want?”
“That sounds perfect, Reina” You knew the nickname always annoyed her, causing you to use it constantly. You giggled as you followed her out, even more hopeful than before for whatever this talk would entail. 
.
The car ride to the cafe was peaceful. There was some light small talk, catching up with each other while also avoiding what you knew you were there to talk about. You talked casually about life, and football, and what your families had been up to in the past year. When she pulled up outside the small cafe, she led you inside and straight to the counter. “Do you still have the same coffee order?” 
You were taken aback by her question, shocked that she could possibly still remember your order. Alexia took your silence as confirmation, ordering for you before you could even process it. She just offered you another smile, still humored by your reaction before leading you to her favorite table. 
“Thank you, Ale. Seriously. You didn’t need to buy my drink. And thank you for being willing to talk with me.” 
She wiped at her mouth softly, “Of course. I wanted to talk to you too,” she paused, “I want to apologize… for how things ended with us.” Her eyes hit the floor again, seemingly embarrassed of her feelings. 
“I’m sorry too. We both were just in a bad place, and took it out on each other. The breakup was the right thing at the time.” 
“We weren’t ready for it. For any of it. We thought we had life figured out and then it all came crashing down.” 
“Do you think we could be ready for it now… maybe?” you basically whispered, not sure what you were trying to get at. You had no intention coming into this conversation with any plan of trying to get back together. It had been over a year since you had talked, you might not even get along anymore, hell she might not even be single anymore. And here you were, already about to ruin everything.
“I think we could be. Maybe if we just take it slow, and don’t rush into anything, we can just see how it goes,” she spoke with more uncertainty than you had ever seen from her before. “I want to treat you how I didn’t before. If you’ll let me.”  
You gave her another soft smile, something you’d done a lot with her today, “I think that’s a good idea. I think just taking it easy to see what happens, not forcing anything. No matter what happens though, I don’t want to lose you, Ale. If it doesn’t go well, I need you to promise that we’ll stay friends still. I can’t lose the one person I love, not over some stupid shit.” 
The serious look on her face suddenly switched to a smirk, “The one person you love?”
“Yes, Ale, love. Are you really gonna pretend you don’t still love me? I know that weird half-smile at me in the locker room would say otherwise.” you rolled your eyes at her, knowing that you were right. It was clear that you had both pushed away more feelings than you realized in the past year. 
“Hmmm you know me too well, amor.” She grabbed your hand and brought it to her lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it before leaning her head on your joined hands. Your favorite girl just stared at you with a big not awkward smile on her face, excited about your future, and about where your relationship would go from here. Wherever that would be, you both knew it would be good.
I feel like the ending was super rushed, I kinda hate it, so sorry.
Any feedback and requests are totally welcome tho!
Check out part two here!
And part three!
Masterlist
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 4 months
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Pressing
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Jack Daniels x F!Reader, dude ranch AU
A Palomino oneshot, but can be read on its own
{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }
Rating: E
Summary: Jack marks you as his in an unexpected way.
Warnings: PWP, Jack's belt leaves an impression on reader's skin, unintentional branding, unprotected sex, long-distance relationship, desperate and feral cowboy, no physical descriptions of Reader, very lightly edited, written as part of the Palomino universe, set after the end of the series, but can be read as a oneshot on its own
Word count: 1.4k
Notes: This little story came from an ask sent in by 🐴 anon in December 2022, which I have long lost, about a song that mentions a guy’s belt buckle leaving marks on his girlfriend's inner thigh while fucking. Naturally, they thought of Jack’s belt. 🐴 anon, if you’re still here, thank you for the inspo and for your patience ❤️
Also thank you to @lola-lola-lola for getting me horn knee about our cowboy again 😘 Writing Palomino smut first thing in the year was not on my 2024 bingo card, and I’m not mad about it!
Cutest dividers by @firefly-graphics.
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It’s been two and a half months. Week after wretched week of phone calls on stolen time. Day after day of aching to reach through the phone screen and the distance between you to touch him.
It’s hard being hundreds and hundreds of miles apart. It’s even harder on weeks when he’s in the mountains with no reception. Harder to find time to call when you have to work late and he has to get up at dawn.
But you endure it all - for days like this. 
It’s a rare weekend off in the high season, with Teak pulling back-to-back pack trips to cover for him, joking that he can’t take all his sighing and pining for his Darlin’ anymore.
Jack takes the last flight out on Friday night, arriving first thing on Saturday morning, before the city - or you - wake up. You’re half-buried under the duvet when the jingle of the key in the door jolts you from shallow slumber.
On unsteady feet, you wobble out into the hallway, crashing into the walls as you go, balance off-kilter from sleep.
But it’s ok - he catches you, all white t-shirt and tight blue jeans. Incognito, if you will, in casual sneakers, but the cowboy hat is on as always. You knock it off post-haste, burying your face in the side of his neck in a desperate need for contact, his warmth seeping into your skin and wrapping you up in the deepest of comforts.
His hair is longer than he usually keeps it, and your fingers twist into his tousled curls when you pull back, taking in the stubble on his sharp jawline, and his tired eyes. But before you can say anything, he leans in and slants his lips over yours.
The taste of airplane coffee is sharp and bitter on his tongue as he kisses you deep and messy. You startle when he suddenly slams the door shut behind him, not realising it was still open, and his beat-up weekend bag is tossed carelessly behind him somewhere in the doorway. 
The legs of the kitchen table scrape jarringly against the floor as he crowds you onto it, big hands cupping your ass and pulling you against his straining erection through his jeans.
‘Fuck, it’s been too long, darlin’.’ His voice is gravelly from an apparently sleepless overnight flight, and hearing his voice finally on the shell of your ear has you whimpering needily.
‘Can’t wait any more,’ he growls, desperation thick in his voice.
With a flick of his wrists, he shucks off your ratty sleep shirt, eyes hooded as he gazes down at your tits, like he can’t believe he’s actually touching you. Cupping them, soft and heavy, with reverent, rope-worn palms, he sucks one nipple after the other between his lips, making you squirm against him and leak wet and sticky between your thighs.
Strong hands hold you in place easily as you buck, the scrape of his moustache almost painful on your over-sensitive skin, nerve endings on fire after being deprived for long weeks. 
Too impatient to wait, you tug your pyjamas shorts down your hips and kick them off clumsily, panties tangled in your damp folds as you writhe under him. 
You feel the breath catch in his broad chest at the peek of your pussy, a rapidly growing damp spot darkening your cotton underwear. Hooking his thumb under the fabric, he tugs it unceremoniously to the side, baring you to him. 
‘Look at all this,’ he marvels, tracing the fleshy pad of his thumb through your folds, making you arch clean off the table. ‘So wet for me and you’ve barely woken up.’
‘Been thinking about you the while night,’ you admit, hips twitching as you chase his touch. ‘Couldn’t sleep.’
‘Did you touch yourself, darlin’?’
You shake your head vehemently. ‘No. Wanted your fingers. Your cock.’
His nostrils flare at your answer, unabashedly possessive in the way he looms over you. 
‘Good girl,’ he murmurs into your throat, nosing the side of your neck while thick fingers thrum against your clit. ‘I was so hard for you the whole fuckin’ flight.’ 
As if to prove it to you - not that you need it - he rolls his hips into your inner thigh, the hard bulge undeniable.
You mewl, hooking your ankles around his waist. ‘Fuck me now, Jack - please.’
There’s a wordless fumble for the solid sterling flask bottle of his belt buckle, his usual level-headed composure nowhere to be found as he pushes down his jeans with shaking hands, just enough to pull his cock out of its denim confines - 
And then he thrusts home inside you.
After months of only your fingers, it’s a stretch. But what a delicious stretch it is.
You feel him throb deep inside you, feel the thunder of a pained groan in his chest, pressed up against yours. Your cunt is all slick and give to his determined strokes as he begins to move. 
There’s no finesse, hardly any awareness, when he fucks frantically into you. His solid weight pins you to the table, and it rattles precariously under your back.
Your legs are splayed obscenely wide and bent at the knees while Jack pounds into your wet heat, eyes wild and mouth hanging open, watching your tits bounce as you take him, your nails digging into the cotton of his white t-shirt. He never did take off your panties, and the fabric rubs your clit just so with every one of his thrusts, rapidly sending you to the edge.
In the back of your mind, you’re aware of the coarse scrape of his jeans against your inner thighs, and something digs hard into the tender skin, the repeated motion dulling the sensation to an almost numb pressure. 
When you cum, you’re crying out before your head catches up, your body convulsing with blind bliss as your pussy clenches around him in a hot rush. The blood pounding in your ears is drowned out by your chants of his name, and then his hips start to stutter and his whole body tenses, frantic eyes on yours as he teeters on the edge. 
‘Where, darlin’?’
‘Inside me.’
The words have barely left you and he’s coming, broken pants against your lips as he comes and comes and comes - spilling inside you, filling you to the brim until he’s empty, turned inside out.
Slumped, boneless on top of you, humid pants pressed into your shoulder, his fingers tangle with yours, squeezing as if to let you know that he’s here.
You almost doze off, the gradually slowing rise and fall of the cowboy’s broad chest a comforting anchor, when he rouses you with gentle lips along your jaw. You giggle, feeling him softening and sliding out of you, making a mess of your kitchen table. 
‘Mornin’ darlin’,’ he says somewhat belatedly, warm eyes crinkling as he smiles at you.
‘Morning,’ you grin back, and when he shifts, you wince at the ache in your joints from being pinned to one spot for this very vigorous wake up call. His hands smooth over your legs in apology, and you jump when his fingertips brush over somewhere at the juncture of your upper thigh that is surprisingly sore.
‘What’s that?’ you ask, puzzled.
Jack doesn’t answer, curiously quiet. You look down to where he’s bracketed between your legs, watching him trace his index finger over the unmistakable imprint of his distinct belt buckle on the inside of your thigh, where it’s been digging into your skin the whole time. 
He glances at you. ‘I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?’
‘No, you didn’t,’ you give him a knowing grin. ‘And are you really sorry, cowboy?’
He doesn’t even have the decency to look sheepish. Gently pinching your swollen folds together, he groans when a milky bead of his cum dribbles out of you, running down the inside of your leg and smearing onto the flask-shaped impression.
‘Ain’t sorry about somethin’ that looks this good on you, darlin’.’
‘Could’ve asked me before you branded me, you know,’ you half-joke, running your own finger along the deep lines carved into your skin, for now.
‘Beggin’ your pardon, I tend to forget my manners when I’m balls deep in a pussy as sweet as yours,’ he retorts, one eyebrow arching when he feels you shiver at his words.
You huff in jest, ‘Doesn’t sound like much of an apology if you asked me.’
‘Whatcha want, darlin’? Me on my hands and knees for you?’
Heat flashes under your skin, from your cheeks down to your toes, and Jack’s eyes darken as his tongue wets his bottom lip. ‘Alright. I hear you loud and clear, ma’am.’
Slowly, he sinks onto his knees in front of you, his joints creaking endearingly as he goes, and you can’t help but tease, ‘Easy there, cowboy.’
The wicked tip of his tongue peeks out, and you bite your lip in a moan when it cleverly traces the outline of the belt buckle on your skin, ending in a playful nip that pulls a gasp from you.
With an unapologetically smug grin, Jack winks. ‘I’m only just gettin’ started, darlin’.’
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Note: Thank you for reading ❤️ I’ve missed these two, and if you’re new to Palomino, I hope you’ll give the series a chance!
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jokeringcutio · 11 months
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DRABBLE/ Insomnia!READER X THE GRABBER
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Fandom: Black Phone 2022
Pairing: The Grabber/ Albert Shaw x Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+)
Warnings: Kidnapping, Dark!, Non-con/Dub-con, Forced!Blowjob, Smut, Insomnia!Reader, Kidnapped!Reader, Victim!Reader. Implied age gap/ older man/younger woman, somnophilia, use of Little/good Girl.
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AN: for @ninakuli How would the Grabber react if the reader couldn’t get to sleep? Well, this might be one of the ways.
->
“Can’t sleep?”
The rough voice made you look up from your position lying on the moldy mattress. You wondered how anyone could sleep here. A stranger’s house, a damp basement, an unknown environment. The walls were bare except for the painting peeling down. The tiny barred window that let in the only light, whether it was day or night because of the lamp that hung in front of it, was up too high. The walls absorbed any sound. It was a prison made with hellish barriers.
And then there was that stranger who came watching. You never knew when he would be down here. Never knew what he would do next. It had you on edge. How could anyone ever sleep when he was around?
So far, he’d mostly been down to watch you, talk to you, work on your mind until his words confused you and you started to believe you’d ended up here all because of your own doing. That you deserved being here.
But there had been that one time when you had pretended to have been asleep, eyes closed, in hopes he would become bored and turn away. But instead of leaving, you had heard his breathing deepen. And then you had felt his hand between your thighs, fingers pressing deep into your clothed skin until one finger curled against your covered cunt. You could still feel his fingertip press against your sensitive bud. The touch hadn’t lasted long, for you’d shot up instantly and his hand had been back by his side almost just as fast. But you were certain it had not been a dream.
And now you were scared of him. Frightened, that if you were to go to sleep, he might take you in it. That he might claim your body as his own when you could not fight back.
Anxiety ate you, piece by piece until it wrecked your nerves and made you shiver with fearful anticipation. Any sound would trigger a panicked reaction and would have you sit up and open your eyes. Because he is here again, isn’t he? Even when he wasn’t. You were constantly alert, ready to shy away from any advances he might try to make.
And so, you blinked up at him fearfully while you wondered what he would be doing next. He’d commented on your lack of sleep the past few times he’d been down there, annoyed that he couldn’t watch you sleep like he had the others. You didn’t know how many had been here before you, only that he somehow seemed to enjoy observing them when they weren’t awake.
Creep, you thought. You wondered if he got off of it. And why he couldn’t just enjoy you while you were awake?
Perhaps that had been a wrong thought to have, because what he said next made shivers run down your spine.
“I know just the thing.” Just the thing for what? To make you sleepy? You wondered for a moment if he referred to some kind of drug, or if he might just knock you out with one of his fists. But he did neither.
He cocked his head to the side, the mask’s chin pointed at his right shoulder. He was observing you, his stance pensively. What was he thinking? But then you regretted that thought when the man came over to you, coming closer than he had in the past few days.
“An ancient old medicine,” he said, voice low and gruff, while he started to unbuckle his belt. And that was the moment you realized what he might be implying. What he might want from you. He probably had wanted this all along.
Your eyes grew wide with fear as you tried to crawl back on the mattress until your back hit the wall and you couldn’t back away any further. “It has proven to be very effective over time,” his husky voice sounded. Then a chuckle emerged from behind the mask as he pushed his pants and underpants down to reveal an achingly hard cock, pre-cum dripping from the tip and glistening in the faint light that fell in from the window above.
The belt was wrapped around his right fist, the end of it dangling in front of you.
You tried to shield your eyes with your hands. “Please,” you begged when you noticed he’d stepped even closer and completely ignored the fact that you had tried to get away. “No, please,” his hand was upon your wrist, yanking it away to uncover your eyes. You looked up at him, tears glistening in your eyes, while you pleaded for him to spare you. “I’ll go to sleep,” you said, voice choked by tears. “Please, I’ll be good. I’ll go to sleep. You don’t need to do this.”
He paused in his actions and there was that tilt of his head again as he studied you through the hole-eyes of the mask. The belt dropped from his hand and fell to the basement floor with a clank.
His right hand came up to your cheek and you flinched, afraid he might slap you there. But his touch was gentle, his palm lightly upon your skin. You opened your eyes again to look up at him mistrustingly and wished you could tell what kind of expression he held behind that darned mask he was wearing.
You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that he was taking his time, standing there, only inches away from you. He was gently caressing your cheek, his thumb tracing circles. The motion was soothing as if he was trying to comfort you. It worked as well, for you felt your shoulders relax somewhat, despite your brain being on full alert.
His other hand was holding his cock. The aching hard member twitched in his grip as a new spurt of pre-cum droplets emerged from the tip. You tried not to look at it, which was hard as his shaft was on eye-level with you, ready to be brought to your lips.
Would he do it? You wondered how far he would go. He hadn’t touched you before like this. He’d been mostly at a distance. Except for that one time. But it figured he would eventually succumb to these primal desires. Why else had he taken you? If it had been just to kill then he would have done so already. Why keep you alive if not for this?
You whimpered, slightly trembling under his caress. A low hum escaped the masked man, then he stood straight again and you saw him move his upper body. The vest he was wearing fell open, his naked stomach showed. Round, you thought, pudgy. Yet, the muscles that showed on his chest betrayed your kidnapper was a man of strength. A strength that was confirmed almost instantly when he suddenly reached for you.
You felt your head being yanked towards him, and his shaft that had been angled at your lips was now pressed against them, begging you to spread them wide. He kept pushing, roughly, until the meat was between your lips and the head of his cock was upon your tongue. The salty taste of flesh mixed with the bitterness of the pre-cum filled your mouth and you hollowed your cheeks. And then he started to thrust.
You looked up at him, pleading silently for his mercy. But at the sight of your tear-stained eyes, his thrusts grew even fiercer and his grip on your head even tighter. You were left with no alternative but to suck, accepting his cock deep inside your throat.
Low, deep rumbles came from the depth of his chest when you started to cooperate. He was pleased, humming and moaning ‘oh yeah’ and ‘just like that’. Sounds that vibrated through his cock until you felt them in your mouth.
Dirty, your mind provided you while he moved you up and down his shaft. The salty and bitter taste of him filled you completely. The curly hairs around his manhood pressed into your nostrils when he pushed your head forward, blocking off your chance to breathe. You sputtered around him, feeling the tip at the back of your throat, feeling his cock spasm between your lips.
You gurgled and sputtered, trying not to choke. A moment of respite when he slid your head back again and his cock nearly left your lips, but then he pushed forward again until his hips met your cheek and your nose was nestled deep within his pubic hair.
You gasped and tried to claw at his hips, but all you felt was how he kept a tight grip on your head and stilled his movements, leaving his cock deep between your lips, the head pushing the back of your throat.
The process repeated itself a few more times, until his cock finally slipped from your lips and you were left gasping for air. A trail of sperm and saliva dripped from your lips and ran down your chin. You moved your hand up to wipe it away, but he caught your wrist before you could get there.
Staring up at him with wide eyes, you heard a chuckle derive from behind the mask. “Na-ah,” the man tusked, his low gravelly voice making something twist deep inside you. A longing, a tingle that had you squeezing your legs together. A foreboding feeling washed over you, that he wasn’t finished just yet. That this was only the beginning.
“Leave it there,” the man hummed. The pause that followed felt too long, making you writhe uncomfortably while you waited for him to either speak or let go of your hand. In the end, he did both, nearly at the same time. “I think I will have to cover your face in a layer of my spunk next time,” there was that rasp again. You had heard it before, how he could slide from a normal, almost gentle tone, into a demonic rasp that was usually used when he was angry and full of curses. “Paint your face a nice white with my cum,” he clicked his tongue behind the mask. His voice became lighter again.
“But for now, there’s another way I have in mind to tire you.”
You shivered at the promise and tried to back away again. The man in front of you got hold of his throbbing cock, wrapping his left hand around it. You saw how his fingers curled around the glistening shaft, still covered in your saliva, and watched how the veins throbbed when he moved his hand up and down at a firm but gentle pace. The ring on his finger glinted in the weak light, skin rippling as he pumped his hand up and down his throbbing cock. Still hard. Balls underneath heavy with cum.
“Undress, sweetie,” he cooed, voice soft like honey.  But when you refused to do as he said, his tone turned drier and more menacing again.
What happened next was much of a blur. He made you undress for him, tweak your nipples for him, rub your hands up and down your bare chest for him while he watched and laughed and licked his tongue past his teeth at the show. His hand never ceased moving up and down slowly, hardening himself underneath his touch until he thought it was enough.
 “Spread your legs, sweetheart,” it took only one command and you were back on your back on the mattress. Your bare back scrubbed along the mold. Even covered in the dark shade of the mask, you could see the glistening of his eyes, pupils wide. You hesitatingly spread your legs for him.
He crawled over you, cock still in his hand, and pressed your legs apart to fit himself in between. His right hand was on your thigh, palm pressed against your soft skin. His left hand guided his cock to your quivering cunt until you felt the head kiss your labia. A wet feeling against your pussy lips and you realized he was smearing his pre-cum at your entrance, deliberately rubbing the head of his cock up and down your entrance while some of the pre-cum came seeping out.
Your fingers clawed at his shoulders and your lips parted in a gasp. “Please,” you begged, knowing it to be futile. Then he dipped in, just the head. Careful fingers pressed the tip in. Not enough to hurt yet, just enough to tease.
He paused in his actions just to bend down, his hair brushed against your cheek as he whispered near your face. “That’s my good girl.”
Then he thrust forth without mercy.
You were speared upon his cock that night, in the basement that was your prison. He left you sore and tired as he forced orgasm after orgasm out of your trembling body beneath him.
He’d been right. You closed your eyes and fell into a dreamless slumber afterward, relieved when he finally rose from the bed and left you alone. You were too tired to notice when the Grabber returned for you in the midst of the night to get some more relief. Until you faintly awoke to wet sounds and the odd feeling of something thrusting deep inside you.
“Hush, pretty girl,” the low voice whispered in your ear, hips moving relentlessly while he kept pushing himself inside. One hand was on your breast, squeezing it tightly while he toyed with you. His other arm was around your waist, his knee between your legs as he held you from behind, your cunt squeezing down on his cock which was covered in your mixed juices.
“I’ll make you go to sleep soon, little one. Don’t you worry. I’ll make you sleep real deep.”  
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disasterofastory · 2 years
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Best friends (Stucky x Reader)
Best friends Stucky x virgin!Reader Warnings: smut, smut, smut, smut
Summary: Bucky has this amazing idea to give your virginity to Steve while he watches.
A/N: Kinktober 2022
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Bucky is your best friend.
Bucky is your best friend.
Bucky is your best friend.
Ugh, you could kill him with your bare hands right now!
"What?" Your voice fills the small kitchen of your apartment. The TV is muffled and forgotten in the living room. Your favorite mug lands on the counter with a loud thud. Hot tea splashes out onto the cheap surface. Your eyes are wide, and your breathing is ragged as you watch the two men at the doorway. Bucky and Steve stand beside each other with crossed arms and smug smirks.
Ugh, the urge to punch them in the face!
"This is my best idea ever!" Bucky almost shouts with excitement. You are sure even your neighbors can hear him. "Okay," you breathe out with a feigned calmness in your voice."You lost your mind." "I did not!" "Then you have a stroke!" "Don't be such a meanie!" While you two argue, Steve continues to smirk and stare at you. Your leggings hug your legs deliciously while the worn t-shirt is bigger than you in several sizes. The fabric is familiar to Steve. It was Bucky's once. Your hair is a mess, and your face is free from makeup. The blonde man is sure he never saw you without lipstick before. You are still pretty. You are always pretty. The mention of his name wakes him up from his thoughts. "Steve, there is no way you agree with him!" Your eyes are on the blonde man now, waiting for his reaction. He shrugs, smirking. He is definitely not against the idea. "It would be so horrible?" You open your mouth to answer but can't find your voice. Having sex with Steve? You are sure it wouldn't be horrible. Losing your virginity like this? Yeah, it sounds like a lifetime of humiliation and shame. Your attention turns back to Bucky. "I can't believe you did this behind my back." Worry flashes on the brunette's expression before he steps closer to you until he can reach your arms. His long fingers smooth along your soft skin, holding your hands in his warm ones. "You told me you want to lose your virginity." Heat washes over your cheeks, and you don't dare to look at Steve, who is still at the doorway, watching and waiting. "I told you I would do it, but you are afraid it would change things between us." "And you asking your best friend to have sex with me while you are watching won't change things?" You ask. Your voice is high and breathless. "Well, you can trust Steve, and me being there is just an extra." A cheeky smirk pulls on his plump lips. Yeah, you know about Bucky's kinks and his history with Steve. And Steve… You know you can trust him. Even if you and Bucky are closer, thanks to the years you worked at the restaurant together, Steve is still your friend. "Bucky…" "Come on," the brunette coos, pulling you closer to his warm body. "It will be fun." "You and I have entirely different ideas about fun," you groan. You still feel humiliated, but can't deny the slight throbbing between your legs. "You say this because nobody ate you out before." "Bucky!" Your whine is muffled by his chest, but their laugh is clear and loud.
"So, what do you say, sweet girl?" Steve's deep voice is right behind you, making you jump and gasp as you look over your shoulder. "Are you sure you want this?" You ask him. You can't help but still feel a bit humiliated. Your best friend has to ask his best friend to take your virginity. It's not like you couldn't get laid if you want to, you just don't want someone you barely know but getting to know someone is not in your priorities. Steve moves closer. He presses his hips to the small of your back where you can feel his hard answer. "What do you think?" "Okay," you exhale. "So… how… how are we going to do this?" You can't believe you say yes to this madness, but here you are. "Let's go to your bedroom first," Bucky answers, leading you to the small room with Steve still on your heels. "It will be more comfortable here."
Excitement and hunger roar up in your belly while you stand at the end of the bed. Steve is in front of you, and Bucky takes his seat on the sofa at the wall. A satisfied smirk plays on his lips, and in other circumstances, you would make sure to wipe it off, but right now, you are too busy with the other man. Steve's arms slide around your waist, hugging you close as he stares down at you. "We will start it slow, okay?" He asks quietly to not to break the moment between you. "And we can stop at any moment." You nod. "Okay." He dips closer until your lips meet. It starts softly. Your first kiss with Steve is barely stronger than a light brush on your tingling lips. Like a warm breath. A soft breeze. He moves back, and when he sees the impatient dizziness on your face, he grins and kisses you again. His tongue dances along your lower lip, nibbling on the soft flesh until you open your mouth, and he invades you, moving his hand to the back of your head. The slight pull on your hair makes you moan, and the kiss soon becomes all tongue and teeth. Steve feasts on your lips, letting his hunger for you lead him for long seconds. "Was it your first kiss?" He asks. His breath fans over your face. Bucky scoffs in the background, and you groan as you glance at your friend. "Shut up!" Then you look back at Steve. "No." The story of your first kiss is a long story. Well, not that long, but rather awkward. "Are you ready to go further?" With a deep breath, you nod and let him take off your t-shirt. Bucky's t-shirt. "Do you have a lot of Bucky's clothes?" Steve asks, letting the worn fabric fall on the ground. His gaze runs over your bare upper body without shame. "I mean…" "She has all my sweaters," Bucky chimes in. Steve chuckles and moves his hands to pull down your leggings. "Oh, you, shut up!" You snap at Bucky again, stepping out of your pants. Your whole body burns under their heavy stare, but the light conversation helps you to stay calm and collected. You have to force yourself not to hide your breasts with your arms. Steve wouldn't let you anyway. "Don't listen to him, Y/N," Steve says, cupping your jaw to pull your attention away from Bucky. "He is just jealous." No. He is not. All three of you know that. Even though Bucky would love to participate, he enjoys just watching the same. Watching you getting bare in front of his hungry eyes makes him hard and horny. His half-hard cock is pressed against his jeans. You are just as beautiful as he imagined when you first mentioned your lack of sex life.
Steve kisses you again while his hand moves from your arms to your ribs until he cups your tits with both hands. He gropes them, playing with the soft flesh. His thumbs brush over your nipples, flicking and teasing the buds until they are hard under his rough fingertips. Your back arches, pushing your chest into his palms some more. "Do you like it?" Steve asks. "Are your pretty nipples sensitive?" "I…I guess." The words leave your swollen lips ragged. "Steve!" You cry out when he pinches and pulls on one of them. The light pain goes straight between your legs. Your clit throbs in sync with the beat of your heart. "Oh, they are," he smirks smugly. "Let me have fun with them, sweet girl. Let me taste them." He doesn't even wait for your answer. His lips latch on one of the hard buds, sucking it into his warm mouth. His teeth graze the sensitive skin, and his tongue flattens on the bud. He hollows his cheeks as he starts to suckle on your breast. Your hand is in his hair, pulling on the soft strands. "Steve," you cry out his name. Your voice is whiny and impatient. Steve and Bucky groan at the same time. The brunette is still on the sofa, stroking his own cock through his jeans. "Sweet girl," Steve chuckles, leaving your soft tits to kiss and nibble on your skin to stop under your ear. "What's the problem, Y/N?" "I…" You don't know what to say. You need so many things from the man you don't know where to start. "Yeah?" He teases. "How do you feel? Tell me." "I… I'm burning and aching," you reply, tasting the words on your tongue. Your skin is too tight, and your pussy is too empty. "Ah," he coos. "Our sweet girl is aching." You notice the word 'our' but say nothing about it. You are too busy with Steve's wandering hands, and you don't hate the thought. Being their girl. His arm curls around your waist while his other hand slips into your panties. "Your pussy aching?" He asks, cupping you between your legs. His middle finger glides through your soft folds. You soak his hand within seconds. "Take off her panties," Bucky orders hoarsely. He can't wait to see your sweet cunt. And the view of your naked body is prettier than he ever imagined. You step out of your panties automatically when Steve pulls them down on your legs. The apex of your thighs shines with your juices, and the blonde man's fingers are thick and long between your folds. "Do you want to taste him, Buck?" Steve asks suddenly. Your eyes widen. Even though you agreed Bucky would stay on the sideline, the thought of him between your leg doesn't seem so horrible. Steve smirks at your reaction and the slight disappointment on your face when Bucky walks closer but instead of falling on his knees, he takes Steve's fingers into his mouth. The view of your best friend sucking on another man's finger makes your pussy gush around nothing. "I think she likes it," Steve states, pulling his fingers in and out between Bucky's lips. He makes sure he is wet enough with the brunette's saliva before gliding his hand back to your pussy. He opens you up while kissing you again. "Such a shame he can't take care of you," Steve teases with feigned sadness. "Because, sweet girl, he is the devil himself with his mouth and tongue." You moan and grind yourself against his hand. His palm grazes over your clit, smearing your wetness all over your pussy and mound. "Lay down, baby," Steve says, breaking the kiss. "Let me taste you properly. I have to make sure you can take my cock into your pretty pussy." You do as he says. Your whole body trembles as you let yourself fall back on your bed, legs open, waiting. "Look at that, Bucky," Steve breathes out. "So pretty." "And she tastes so good," the other moans. His eyes are on your pussy, amazed by the beautiful view of your juicy center and swollen tits. Your nipple still glistens with Steve's saliva. "We will see," the man hums, kneeling down at the end of the bed. Soon, your legs are over his broad shoulders, and his face is between your legs. You hear him breathing in your sweet scent, and his groan runs through your spine. "Steve," you cry. "Please." "I'm coming, sweet girl, it's okay." And with that, he laps up on your folds, gathering your wetness on his hot tongue. He licks and slurps on your folds until he finds your throbbing, aching clit. He closes his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking on it like he did on your nipples not long ago.
Meanwhile, Bucky stands next to the bed. His cock is free from his jeans, his hand around the thick shaft as he strokes himself. His movements are slow, savoring every moment of you moaning and begging for more. "Don't forget your fingers, Steve," Bucky comments cheekily. "Don't forget what I taught you." Wet, slurping sounds fill the room that stop for a second when Steve growls into your pussy with distaste. "Oh, god," you moan. Your fingers dig into the cover under you, and your back arches away from the bed. It feels like Steve sucks the soul out of you, and you have nothing against the idea. Steve's fingers soon find your entrance, propping the tight hole to stretch you out and get you ready for his throbbing erection. He makes sure he goes slow and soft, not wanting to hurt you. "Cum, Y/N. Cum in Steve's mouth. Show him what that pussy can do." Bucky's order is sudden, but your body recognizes it immediately. Pleasure flares up in your veins as your chest swells with oxygen. Steve's grip on your hip is hard and tight as you grind against his lips and fingers. He devours everything you give him, slurping and drinking on your sweet nectar. Your thighs close around his head, keeping him in place until you are spent and dizzy. Small shocks shake your body when your orgasm ends. "Did you ever make yourself cum like this?" Bucky asks. His hand is on the base of his thick cock, keeping himself from cumming. Your breathing is rapid and heavy as you shake your head. No. And you are not sure you could ever do it. When your legs fall from his head, Steve kisses up on your whole body until he reaches your lips. The taste of you on his dominating tongue is overwhelming enough to make you excited once again. "Take it off," you murmur between kisses as you grab his shirt to tug on it. You feel his smile on your lips before he backs away to undress. "You are so pretty," you hum, still dizzy after your orgasm. Both Steve and Bucky laugh at your loose tongue. "You think so, sweet girl?" Steve smirks. "Yes." He really is. His skin is smooth on his broad muscles and the air gets stuck in your lungs when his jeans fall on the ground too. His cock is thick and hard. A bluish vein runs on the side of his shaft. The head is red and wet with pre-cum. "That's pretty too," you admit quietly mostly to yourself, but Steve and Bucky hear you. "Sweet girl," the blonde chuckles. "And what do you think about Bucky's dick?" He asks, moving up on you until your bodies are pressed against each other. His breath is warm on the side of your face. He leans on his elbow while his other hand caresses your side, drawing the underside of your breast and flicking the hard nipple. Your gaze wanders to Bucky, who still stands at the side of the bed, cock in hand, eyes on you. His cock is thicker than Steve's, but not that long. His balls hang heavy and deliciously. Licking your lips, you drag your eyes up on the man until you meet his lust-filled gaze. "Bucky's pretty too." "What?" Steve asks, nibbling on your neck. His deep baritone rumbles over your heated skin. "What is pretty, baby?" "Bucky's cock." "She is already cockdrunk," Bucky laughs, but he can't deny the satisfaction your words cause in him. "We are going to have so much fun with her," the man above you replies. "But first, I have to break that sweet pussy of hers."
His hand leaves your boob to grab himself between his muscled thighs. He drags his cock up and down over your folds, mixing your juices and soaking his length in your honey. "What do you say, sweet girl?" Steve asks. "Are you ready to take me? This pretty little cunt is capable of taking my cock?" "Yes," you rasp. The need is heavy in your lower belly. "Please, Steve." The man coos, kissing the tip of your nose before pushing his erection against your gaping hole. He moves slowly and softly, pushing his cock into you patiently. He lets you adjust around him, making sure your tight walls stretch without causing pain. "How do you feel, Y/N?" Bucky asks, watching your expressions. A small grimace pulls on your lips. "It's uncomfortable." "It will get better," the blonde man promises, stopping. His balls jerk at the urge to push into you fully and the force that keeps him doing it. "Tell me if it's too much." "No," you reply stubbornly. "Move deeper, please." "So polite," Bucky groans, kneeling on the bed to lean above you for a searing kiss. His movements are fast and forceful, drawing your attention away from the uncomfortable feeling between your legs. He fucks his tongue into your mouth, letting saliva escape between your lips while Steve pushes deeper. The slight pain is still there, but you don't have time to care. Letting yourself submit to Bucky's lips is more important. When the brunette decides to back away, Steve is in you entirely. Your walls loosen around him, making you calm down and enjoy the moment. "Are you okay, baby?" Steve asks. "Yes," you nod rapidly. Excitement runs through your body. He can fuck you now. "Move, Steve. Please fuck me." And he does. He goes slowly, moving in and out of you with small movements until he is sure you are really okay. Your legs curl around his waist, and your heels dig into his ass to urge him more. A breathy chuckle escapes his lips, but he does as you want. And finally, Steve is fucking you. He pounds into your tight hole, pushing his hips against yours while you moan and writhe under him. His strong arms cage you between his hard body and the bed. He uses your pussy, enjoying every flutter of your walls.
Bucky jerks himself in sync with Steve's thrusts. His fingers are tight around his length, imagining your hot cunt around himself. He can almost feel it, the hotness, the softness of your body, your mewls next to his ear. His lower belly tenses and his muscles are taut as he tries to hold himself back. He doesn't want to finish before you. "Are you gonna cum?" Steve asks breathly. His hips snap against yours rapidly, chasing your orgasms with force. "Cum around my cock, sweet girl. Make a mess on it so we can mark you with our seed. Did Bucky tell you that? How will we finish? We want to cum on your skin, baby. We want to mark that pretty, tight body with our semen." "Steve!" You cry his name. Your head presses against the bed, eyes closed. The man bites into the curve of your neck and shoulder to push you some more. Electricity runs through your body as the hot coil snaps in your belly. Pleasure floods your senses, burning your veins and nerves. The world stops moving for long minutes. There is nothing but you and the delicious stretch in your pussy. You gush around Steve's cock, gripping him to the point he can barely move. A hoarse groan breaks through his throat as he almost rips himself out of you in haste. His cum splashes on your folds, coating your pussy and mound. He can't tear his eyes away from the beautiful view. He can see your hole fluttering and begging for his cock. Bucky's throaty groan seems far away even though his warm seed is on your skin, covering your hip and stomach. He can't wait to see your pretty face and tits soaking in his seed. Maybe next time. The moment his orgasm passes, he has other ideas to continue the night.
Your mind is still dizzy, and your body shivers and jerks with pleasure when you feel Steve's fingers around your ankle as he holds up one of your legs. "Are you ready for dessert, Buck?"
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poisonous-honey · 3 months
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Soul Crushing Guilt
(This is a re-upload: Originally posted to UniverseUchu on December 2nd, 2022)
You've treated them all like toys. In your defence this was just another video game to you a couple of weeks ago, but they're actually real with thoughts and feelings of their own. You don't know how to feel.
Who’s Here! Venti
Contains: isekai reader, Self Aware Genshin (not the Cult SAGAU), Insecurities (reader), Hurt/Comfort I guess it’s called
Note: I will say this takes place in the middle of a story, but it works on its own and I really liked how this turned out. I do have more written, but it's incomprehensible (even after a whole year it's still incomprehensible lmao)
Sitting on the cliffside of Starsnatch is not where you intended to be at this time, but your soul crushing guilt and insecurities have led you here. You needed to be away from all the positivity from everyone in Mondstadt. Their kindness was only worsening your mood. Staring over the edge, lost deep inside your head, you almost miss the way the wind whirls around you before you hear the one person you wanted to avoid the most right now.
“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere. Why’d you leave without saying anything? Everyone back at Mond is worried, you know.”
You don’t say anything in response and let Venti walk up and sit next to you. You both stay silent and watch the waves crash onto the beach. Venti occasionally takes glances in your direction, but for the most part his eyes are on the scenery. After a few minutes, he tries asking you again.
“I know you told us that we aren’t overwhelming you, but please, if we actually are-”
“That’s not the reason I left Venti.”
“Then what is it?”
Silence is all that greets him. “Please, we just want you to be comfortable with us. We can’t help if we don’t know.”
Hearing him say that only makes you feel more guilty. They’re all so nice to you, and for what? The pressure and the guilt keeps building and building the more you stay here. Everyone’s been so understanding and kind, but all you’ve done before is use them any which way. You’ve judged them for superficial reasons and have even gotten them killed on numerous occasions. Venti showing up and putting the blame on himself and the others like they’re the reason you left just adds onto your shame as tears start to escape your eyes.
Upon seeing your eyes water, Venti slightly panics. “W-Wait, why are you crying!? I’m sorry for whatever-”
“Venti please stop.”
You turn to look Venti in the eyes, and see the panic and worry etched onto his face. It only makes you feel worse.
“Venti… Why are you here? Why do you keep following me?’ You look away from him, trying to keep from balling on the spot. ‘Why are you so nice to me?”
Hearing this, Venti’s face slowly scrunches in confusion. “What do you mean? Of course, I’m going to be nice to you. Where is this coming from?”
“You were conscious the entire time I was playing. I used you all like you were dolls for my amusement. After I got you, didn’t you feel like I was holding you captive or-or like some sort of toy forced to do my bidding? I don’t understand why no one hates me! I feel so guilty of everything I’ve said and done, but everyone’s apologizing to me like they’re in the wrong, and I don’t get it! Especially you! As the God of Freedom, don’t you hate me for taking away your own freedom from you? I just don’t understand… So why…” Unable to continue, you look away as you try to wipe your eyes and wait for Venti to finally tell you he hates you. That he’s going to stop pretending and get up and leave you alone. In your mind you know he would never, that's not who he is, but fear and anxiety is irrational.
Your breath hitches as you feel his hands land on your cheeks and turn your head to look at him. Instead of the disgust or apathy your heart was expecting, Venti’s face is filled with sorrow.
“I can’t believe you would think so low of me.’ He looks downwards and wipes away a few tears with his thumbs before looking back at you with nothing but care. ‘I guess from your point of view that’s a reasonable assumption to make, but you seem to be forgetting one key detail.”
You stare at him as he proceeds to give you the smuggest look you’ve ever seen on him. “I came home extremely early on my banner, didn’t I?”
What he’s saying doesn’t make any sense to you. He’s already treating you extremely differently than you anticipated, and now his question is putting your already malfunctioning brain into overdrive. What did his banner have to do with anything?
“What? Venti I-I don’t understand. What are you trying to…’ Finally, it all starts to click into place as your eyes widen, and his stupid grin gets larger. ‘You… Did you influence the banner wishes???”
Venti laughs joyously as he lets go of your face. His eyes sparkle like he’s recounting the best moment of his life.
“Why yes, I did! I actually got in a lot of trouble for that! It's part of the reason you lost the next 50/50, but I couldn’t miss the chance to join your team. I refused to wait another second.”
“But why? I still don’t under-”
“I have the freedom to make my own choices, do I not? I wanted to join your team, so I did.”
His expression changes from smug to such a soft look. You have a hard time believing it is being directed at you.
“Why, yes, I may be the God of Freedom, but I’m also simply one of the many characters this game has to offer. I’m one of your many characters in particular. And out of such a colourful cast of individuals, I was your favourite. To be the reason someone even downloaded our game in the first place sends me over the moon. For everyone else, you still give their lives a purpose and have earned everyone’s respect. Sure, you might be a bit crass, but even when you were rude or made a mistake, you still treated everyone with more care than necessary. I especially could feel and hear the level of adoration you had for me through the screen. To me, there’s nothing I want more than to travel by your side for as long as you’ll have me.”
Such a heartwarming and earnest speech from Venti has your eyes start to water again. Not all of your insecurities and guilt have been lifted, you don’t think that kind of guilt will be something you can get rid of, but with Venti here…
“You’re allowed to stay for as long as you want.”
He cups your cheeks again while looking straight into your eyes.
“Then till death do we part, my dear player.”
You break down and cry as Venti pulls you in for a hug. With Venti by your side, you know he’ll help you through your guilt with as much care and love as you’ve given him.
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pb524830 · 2 months
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anyone else
part: 8 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 3.2k c/w: language, sexual content a/n: guys this is the last part omg :( i had so much fun writing this and i want to thank you guys a million gazillion times over for being so invested in this series. i hope you guys had just as much fun reading it!
MARCH 2022
I watch Paige’s face contort in confusion.
 “You- How do you know that?” She splutters, eyes widening.
I sigh. “Because she’s my roommate, Paige. I saw you that night.”
Disbelief colors her face, and then saps all the color out. She shakes her head, training her eyes on mine. “What are you- what do you mean?” She breathes.
“That day we… in your room. And we almost…” I trail off. “I came home a couple hours later and I saw you…” I breathe deeply here, the pain of everything that happened that day suddenly fresh. “I saw you coming out of her room. I saw you kiss her.” My voice breaks on the second to last word and I hope she doesn’t catch it.
Paige stands in front of me, her mouth slightly open. Her hands hang at her side limply, her eyes tinged with red. “Fuck,” she whispers. She takes a step towards me and when I flinch away, she stops moving. Paige looks away from me and runs a hand over her face. “Fuck, Ava,” she mumbles, shaking her head in disbelief. She looks back at me.
 “I’m so fucking sorry,” she tells me. Her voice is thick with sincerity and emotion, and I should forgive her. I should. I want to.
But I just can’t. Because I need to know why.
I shrug, ignoring the knot in my throat. “It’s fine. We weren’t together.”
“That’s not an excuse,” she says quietly. “I didn’t… The last thing I wanted was to hurt you.”
I shrug again.
“Can you say something? Please?” She begs. 
“What do you want me to say, Paige?” I reply tiredly. 
“I don’t know. I don’t know, just-just let me fix this. Please, Ava, I- I need to fix this.”
“And I needed you to be honest with me a year and a half ago,” I say, my voice suddenly cold.
She shakes her head. “That’s not- I didn’t know that you knew. I had no idea-”
I meet her eyes, a tear tracking down my face. “You should have told me yourself.”
She’s silent. A tear drips from her eye, too. “I know. I know, and I’m so sorry-”
“Do you have any idea how that felt?” I demand quietly. I avert my gaze to my hands in my lap. I can hardly see them through my tears. I draw in a shaky breath. “How it felt to-to finally kiss you? God, I’d been wanting to do it for months. You were right. Back in December. You were right, Paige. We feel right. We always have, you always have.” I shake my head, laughing under my breath.
“Nothing has ever felt as wrong as watching you kiss her. I-I let you have everything. I took my clothes off for you. And you left me to go fuck her - do you have any idea how shitty that feels?” I ask, making my tone harsh so that she doesn’t hear the sob behind it. “You wouldn’t have done that if you cared, Paige. You wouldn’t.”
“No, Ava. That’s not true,” she chokes out, and she’s crying now, tears tracking down her beautiful, beautiful face, running to kneel in front of me. She rests her hands on my knees, willing me to look at her. “Please, just listen.” I shake my head, pushing her hands away. “Look at me,” she begs. When I don’t, she clings to my hands.
“I cared. If you don’t believe anything else, if you think everything I’m saying is bullshit, know that I cared so bad that it terrified me. I was fucking scared, Ava. I was scared of us, I was scared of this, and-and I did something stupid. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could take all of this back, I wish I never hurt you,” she blurts all of this out, her voice wavering from emotion. 
“I slept with her. I shouldn’t have. I was touching her and- and wishing it was you, and that night I was going to tell you everything. I swear it.”
“Paige-”
“I didn’t want her. I didn’t… I didn’t want anyone who wasn’t you. I went to her place to break it off, and then I got scared because I didn’t know you could feel about someone the way I felt about you.”
“You shouldn’t have had to sleep with someone else to know you wanted me,” I sniffle dejectedly.
She brings our conjoined hands to her forehead, almost as in prayer.
“That’s not when I knew,” she whispers.
Finally, finally, I look at her.
“I knew the second you smiled at me.”
Oh, Paige.
“Your eyes have this-this sparkle in them when you smile. And you have a dimple. On your right cheek. You were arguing with me, that night at the gym… and I said something stupid. It was so dumb, I-” she laughs through her tears, and I let a chuckle slip out. “All I knew was that I’d embarrass myself a million fucking times if it meant I could make you smile like that.”
My Paige. My sweet, perfect girl.
Paige brings our hands to her lips, pressing a watery kiss to my knuckles, and I pull her closer. She shuffles on her knees, inserting herself between my legs, and looking up at me in wonder and anguish and a million other emotions. “You don’t even know how crazy I went when you stopped talking to me. I-I would just show up to the volleyball gym and shoot for hours, waiting for you to show up.” I let out a teary laugh, disentangling a hand from hers to cup her face. I brush at her tears with my thumb.
“I shouldn’t have ghosted,” I admit, thumbing her lower lashes. She chuckles, “No, you shouldn’t have.” I breathe out shakily. “I was scared, too.” She blinks, urging me to go on. “It just… hurt so bad. I-I didn’t want you to hurt me like that again.” Paige turns her head, pressing her lips to the inside of my palm, closing her eyes. “Ava, I swear to you,” she says, voice quivering, but her tone steady and sure as her eyes hold mine. “I will never hurt you like that again. Ever.” 
“How do I believe you?” I murmur, searching her eyes. She sits up further and my hand falls away from her face, but her hands reach for my face, instead. “Because I’m not scared anymore,” she whispers insistently. “Ava, this is it for me. You’re it for me.” I cling to her wrists, letting my eyes rove over her face. And I believe her. A weight lifts off of my shoulders. I believe her.
Slowly, slowly, I nod. Her eyes light up. “Okay,” I whisper. “Okay?” She asks hopefully, and I laugh shakily, smiling back. “I think… you might be it for me, too, Bueckers,” I admit, and she’s laughing, that stupid laugh that I could fall asleep to, that I could wake up to every single day for the rest of forever. 
And when I kiss her, slowly, pouring in every single secret glance and stolen kiss and all the things I’ve said to her and everything I haven’t yet, I hold on to her. Because it’s not anyone else. It won’t ever be anyone else. It’s just her. 
It’s always been her.
She kisses me back, and I let her climb onto the bed and push me against it. I crawl backwards to the pillows, bringing her with me. She rests her body on top of mine, lying in between my legs, her weight comforting. I think to myself in disbelief that she’s real, that this is real. I kiss her lazily, letting my lips move steadily under hers, and she lets me, sighing into my mouth and moving my hair out of the way.
She pulls herself away, just for a moment, and looks down at me. She smiles, ever so slightly. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” she whispers. I bite back a grin. “Shut up and kiss me, you nerd,” I tease, looping an arm around her neck to bring her mouth back to mine. “I’m serious,” she mumbles into the kiss, and I laugh. “Paige Bueckers, the romantic,” I giggle, and she pulls away from the kiss to nuzzle her nose into the crook of my neck. “You just have me acting all kinds of fucking stupid,” she sighs. 
Paige cranes her neck back to look up at me. “You have to stop sneaking out on me in the morning, though,” she says sternly. I nod, grinning at her. “I wanted to stay,” I tell her, tapping her nose. “I wanted you to stay,” she murmurs back. She presses her nose back into my body, inhaling deeply, wrapping her arms around my torso to switch us around so that I’m on top. “God, I miss you,” she mumbles into my skin. I giggle as she presses kisses against my shoulder. “I’m right here,” I tease. “Still,” she complains. “I’m afraid you’re gonna get up and run away from me again.” My heart pangs at this. I know she’s teasing, but there’s some honesty to her words. “Please,” I sigh exasperatedly. “I couldn’t stay away from you if I tried.”
Paige smirks up at me. “You want me baddd,” she teases. I frown at her. “You’re supposed to be kissing me,” I remind her. Her smirk widens. “Yes, ma’am,” she hums, moving back up to cover my mouth with hers again. She slips her fingers underneath the hem of my shirt, letting her hands rove over my bare skin, but not going any further. I can tell she’s waiting for me to keep going. I tease her lips with my tongue and she lets me in with a breathy moan.
I move my legs so that they’re straddling her waist, my lips still working against hers, and I grind slowly. I feel her breath stutter, and I smile, loving the feeling that I do to her sanity exactly what she does to mine. I sit up slowly, then reach for the hem of my shirt to pull it over my head. Her hands stop mine, a slight frown on her face. “You don’t have to-”
“Paige,” I stop her, batting her hands away and discarding the offending garment of clothing. Her eyes trace over me hungrily, hands moving immediately to my waist. “You’re really going to pass up an opportunity to fuck me when I’ll remember it?” I ask slyly, tugging at her shirt to sit her up. One hand moves to my ass, the other spanning across my bare back. “You better fucking kill me if I ever do,” she murmurs, kissing me hard before moving her lips to my neck.
I sigh contentedly, letting my head tip back as her hands move to my lower back. “Yes,” I whisper as she marks over the marks she’d already left last night. “These look good on you,” she muses, referring to my hickeys before moving to the tops of my breasts. “Freak,” I chide. Her eyes meet mine as she flicks the clasp of my bra. “You love it,” she grins wickedly, tugging my bra off. I whine quietly, tugging at the bottom of her shirt, and she shrugs it off. I snap the band of her bra. “This, too, come on,” I complain.
She obliges readily, pulling it over her shoulders, and the sight of her bare skin is so ridiculously enticing. I groan a little, placing open-mouthed kisses against her chest and her neck, peppering them down her shoulders, relishing in the way her breath stutters. She flips us over, slamming my back against the bed, and kisses down my body to my shorts. She pulls the waistband down ever so slightly, placing a soft kiss against my hip bone. 
Then she tugs my shorts down and I kick them off before Paige kisses back up my body, all over my thighs, dragging her mouth across my stomach. It’s different from yesterday, which was hunger and need and urgency. The way that Paige is touching me now is languid and careful and something like worship. “Do you need..?” She asks, wondering if I’m wet enough. I shake my head, dragging her mouth back to mine. “Please, just touch me,” I beg. She smiles against my lips and swipes two fingers against me. I gasp, my jaw locking into a silent moan, but she appeases it with her lips, kissing me as she gathers my wetness and spreads it to circle around my clit, then teases my entrance.
“Don’t do that,” I scold her, but it’s hardly anything, because truthfully, I can’t form a single thought with her inside of me. “What do you want me to do instead?” She teases. “Paige,” I whine breathily. “Oh, this?” She asks, pushing two fingers inside of me, and I stutter out a moan. “That’s good for you?” I nod, grasping her face to kiss her again, but she pulls away. “Words, baby,” she commands. My breath catches at the nickname. “It’s-it’s good,” I stammer.
“How good?”
“S-so good.”
“You want it faster?”
“Mmm.”
“Come on, baby, you know the rules.”
“Faster, Paige.”
“Like that?” She speeds her fingers up, pushing them deeper, her thumb damn near abusing my clit.
“Just like that, fuck,” I whisper, biting my lip, but her mouth chases mine anyway, kissing me hard.
“Sound so pretty when you curse for me.”
I gasp against her mouth as she edges her fingers deeper and curls them just right. 
“Yeah, you like that, don’t you?”
“Shut up, Paige,” I whine.
“Why? You can’t take it?” I can hear the smirk in her voice, and it drives me insane, soaking my core.
She doesn’t demand an answer this time, just fucks into me harder. Pleasure wracks through my body in waves and I moan, dropping my head to her shoulder, my hips bucking against her hand. “You’re close?” She murmurs. “So close,” I keen, kissing her skin, riding her fingers. “You wanna let go for me, baby? Come on, let go for me,” she urges, her other hand coming up to tweak my nipple.
“Paige, I’m gonna-” I whimper. Her fingers speed up, and I wonder for a second if they’re cramping.
“It’s okay, Ava. I got you, come on. Just come for me,” she soothes, her eyes trained on my face.
I feel my orgasm flood through me, curling my toes and forcing a soft cry out of me before I sink my teeth into Paige’s shoulder, letting her work my way through it. My hips stutter, thighs shuddering, cunt still pulsing around her fingers. I pant into her shoulder and she eases her fingers out of me. My thighs clench at the sensitivity and she smiles down at me, pressing her fingers to my lips.
“Open,” she orders softly, and I do, widening my eyes as I stare at her. Her pupils fluctuate as she watches me take her fingers in my mouth, tasting myself. “Good girl,” she whispers, almost in awe. I swirl my tongue around her fingers and she groans softly, eyelashes fluttering. I pull her fingers out and kiss her hard, slipping my tongue between her lips so that she can taste me on my own lips. She lets out the slightest moan and I take the opportunity to shift down on the bed, pulling her shorts off and positioning my head between her legs.
Her cunt is positively soaked, her folds dripping with arousal. I take two fingers to spread her open, pushing her wetness up to her clit. “Don’t tease,” she warns, a leg wrapping around my neck, calf dangling down my back. “What are you talking about?” I ask, smiling at her innocently. I dip the tip of my tongue into her entrance and pull it out quickly. “Ava,” she says sternly, giving me a look. I roll my eyes, flattening my tongue against her, licking from her entrance to her clit.
Paige throws her head back when I suck on her clit. “Fuck,” she whispers. I suck at her folds, letting my tongue lave through them, before I sink it deep into her, pushing it upwards when it's inside her. She stutters out a moan, pushing herself up onto her elbows to look at me. I flick my tongue against her clit and her heel digs into my lower back. Then I start plunging my tongue in and out of her and the way she starts whimpering… I feel my core soaked again at just the sound of it.
She shifts so that she’s sitting up more, her biceps and abs flexing as she moves, and her fingers lace into my hair, pushing me into her. “Ava,” she mumbles. I fuck her with my tongue faster, flicking it inside of her. “Ava,” she moans again, and I know she’s close. I hum against her, then suck hard at her clit, and she slaps a hand over her mouth.
Paige falls apart against me at that, grinding her hips against my mouth, shoving my face hard into her cunt, moaning my name into her hand. I fuck her through her orgasm, lapping up every bit of her that drips out of her pussy. She groans against her hand. “I can’t believe you waited almost two years to do that to me,” she breathes, her hand resting against her stomach. I laugh at this, shaking my head. 
I wiggle out from between her legs and into her open arms, curling into her, her body molding to mine in the way that on her body can. She holds me to her, her hands lacing around my body. “Damn,” she breathes, pressing a kiss to my hairline, and I loop an arm around her neck. I laugh. “Damn,” I agree. We’re doing it again - trying to crawl into each others’ skin, and after this past hour, it feels sinful to exist without her touching me. 
I don’t want to. Not ever again. And I’m suddenly immensely grateful that I hadn’t gone home that night. That I’d stayed and sat on those bleachers and argued with her about something or the other and made fun of her music taste. I had no idea what she’d become to me.
That her smile would feel like being bathed in the sun.
That her laugh would feel like flying and falling all at once.
That her eyes would make me wish I didn’t know how to swim, just so I could drown in them over and over and over.
I sit up slightly, looking down at her. “Paige,” I say. She looks at me, urging me to continue. I sigh. “I’m yours, aren’t I?” She smiles, ever so slightly. “And I’m yours,” she repeats back matter of factly. Then she kisses me, so softly, so lovingly, and I melt against her. “So don’t think for a second you belong to anyone else.”
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Francis Forever (CS55 x Reader)
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|ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ|
summary: words unsaid keep him up at night after y/n loses her f1 seat (inspired by Francis Forever by Mitski)
word count: 4117
warnings: angst not proofread, swearing maybe, y/n is essentially daniel from the 2022-2023 season
December 19, 2022 (Spain)
        He was lost in the 2022 season.  Red Bull had a different dominance to them, and Ferrari could not seem to keep up with the absolute rocket ship of a car Red Bull had. In the end, his thoughts only drifted back to her. They both struggled greatly in the season. The season was over, and so were they. 
        It was three in the morning in Spain—he’d spent the night tossing and turning in bed, seeking warmth his blankets could not provide him—when the news stumbled onto his social media. Multiple accounts across multiple platforms announced y/n to be Red Bull’s third driver for the 2023 season. He even went on Red Bull’s account to verify the news. 
        He sighed. He believed she would have taken a break from Formula 1 in the time she wasn’t going to be driving. Instead, he was mortified to learn his ex girlfriend would only be a few garages up the pitlane. How couldn’t she? With the love Red Bull always had for her, it was never going to come into question that they would have bailed her out of the situation she found herself in for the season. 
        Despite Red Bull’s history with its drivers, his heart lit up with joy knowing they would have taken care of her. After all, her time with Red Bull was preferable to the time she spent with McLaren. He was almost in a daze, caught up in the moment when he found himself scrolling through his phone’s contacts, his heart skipping a beat as his gaze landed upon the familiar contact; her number saved under the name “Mi Amor”.
        “Saw the news, amor! Congratulations, I can’t wait to see you again on race weekends” he typed up before mentally kicking himself when a moment of logic washed over him. Though the message was plain, it was far too sentimental for his liking. Far too sentimental for what they were now. 
        “Congratulations. See you!” he made a attempt to revise the message. He sighed, repeatedly tapping on his phone’s backspace key until not a single trace of the message existed. No message. It’s what he had settled on instead that night. 
March 3, 2023 (Bahrain)
        It was time for the first race of the 2023 season. Walking through the paddock, he saw her. She smiled as she walked past reporters and photographers, clad in her team’s dark blue t-shirt as she made her way over to the Red Bull garage. He stood still, watching her from meters away as she disappeared behind the motorhome’s walls. He could not bring himself to move closer to her, unsure of whether or not he still had the right to do so after their breakup. 
        Back then, race weekends were not so awkward. They used to be fine. Perfectly fine, and so perfectly enamored with each other. Their eyes used to light up so clearly when they spotted each other from across the paddock walking into their respective motorhomes. It was never this messy between them. 
        August 27, 2022 (Belgium)
        The 2022 season was exhausting for the pair. y/n had just announced she was parting ways with McLaren and that made it all real. And though Carlos wanted to be there to support her, he had his work to do with Ferrari. After the announcement, she was working to prove herself to other teams, fighting to make the improvements she needed to. The pair hardly found much time for each other. 
       ��A few garages distance had never felt so far. 
        “So, Red Bull wants to give me a third driver seat,” she spoke as they jogged side-by-side on the hotel gym’s treadmills. Her e/c eyes scanned his face for a reaction, frowning when she got none. It took her waving her hand in front of his face for him to finally rid himself of his earphones. 
        “Sorry, amor, were you saying something?” he questioned cluelessly, an expectant look on his face. She frowned.
        “Never mind. I haven’t signed anything yet,” she shook away the thought of letting him in on the news this early. 
        “Why? Are you getting offers already?” he questioned almost absentmindedly, gaze fixed on the view outside the glass windows the treadmills were situated in front of. 
        “Kind of? Not really, though. It’s complicated and the driver market is insanely complicated this year,” she shook off the thought. Mercedes had offered her a role as a reserve driver, and Haas offered her a seat she had no plans of taking. She didn’t know how well those teams would have fared for her and her career. 
        “Let me know when you have a seat, yeah? We can go out and celebrate,” he smiled proudly before making a suggestion, “If you can’t find one, maybe I can put in a good word for you in Ferrari for a reserve driver seat or something.” 
        She grimaced at the thought. There was nothing wrong with it. She knew he was trying to help in a way he knew how. Still, it felt as though he were implying she needed him in order to stay in F1. Him leaving McLaren was what led her into the team in the first place. To many, it seemed like Carlos was responsible for the opportunities she was given in her career in recent years. It wasn’t fair for her achievements to be diminished by the fact that her career was waning, incomparable to the way her boyfriend’s career shone. 
        “I don’t need it,” she responded, her tone clipped, “I’ve got opportunities. Plenty of them. I’ll find a seat next year on the grid, and if I have to wait for somebody else’s contract to end, I’ll do it.”
        “Maybe you can try a different racing series?” he suggested, “Le Mans could be interesting for you, no? Maybe even rally cars like we did with papa that one time.”
        “And what about us? Would we be able to take it? Traveling to different places in the world at different times, our schedules almost never lining up?”
        “I think we can handle it,” he nodded, interlacing their fingers, “I have trust in our relationship. I know we can make it through anything.”
        “Well, I’d like to stay in F1. Maybe I can take a short break before I get a seat back. I’m sure I’m not leaving Formula 1, though.”
November 22, 2022, Monaco
        “You know, I think you’re taking this a bit extreme now,” Carlos sighed, watching her race on her racing simulator set up in their apartment. 
        “I have to do this, Carlos,” she insisted, “I have to prove I’ve still got it.” 
        “And who are you trying to prove it to? It’s just you and me here, y/n,” he reminded her, unplugging the simulator and wrapping his arms around her, “It’s going to be okay. Take a moment to rest.”
        “Okay,” she nodded, giving into his request and following him to the living room. She let out a sigh, “It’s weird for me to think I won’t be racing next season after all these years. I thought I had my contract sealed for next year. I thought I would have had time to redeem myself at McLaren instead of having them buy me out.”
        “I know, Amor,” he sighed into her hair as he held her in a comforting embrace, “I’m going out with some of the other drivers later. Do you want to go?”
        “I think I’ll stay here first,” she shook him off, “You have fun though. Don’t get too drunk, yeah?” 
        “I’ll try,” Carlos winked. 
        Later that night, he found himself on a quiet rooftop bar with George, Lando, Charles, and Max. 
        “I found her on the simulator earlier,” he admitted to his friends under the influence of a few tequila shots, “I mean, she seemed so rough earlier. I worry for her, you know? She’s so stressed out with everything that I feel bad because I have a seat and she doesn’t.”
        “Don’t you think it might hurt her if she has to keep traveling with you for F1?” Lando chimed in as the topic of y/n’s career came up. It was inevitable for them to end up talking. They were drivers, and y/n was Lando’s teammate. One way or another, it would have come up in conversation. 
        “And what makes you think that?” Carlos quirked a brow at Lando’s remark. 
        “Does she have any plans outside F1? I heard Nicky’s going back to uni with Logan replacing him,” George explained, taking a sip from his beer, “If not, maybe it will take some getting used to for her if she’s going to follow you around on races.” 
        “Well, not that I know of right now—”
        “Does she have a confirmed seat anywhere? Maybe even a reserve driver seat?” 
        “We haven’t talked about it yet,” the Spaniard shook his head at the thought, only vaguely being able to recall their conversation on the treadmills in Belgium. 
        “If she doesn’t have one, then yeah, I think it would suck for her to do all this F1 stuff with you. Especially with where her career is right now,” George sighed, rubbing his cheeks as though mentally putting himself in y/n’s shoes. 
        “But wouldn’t it be good for her to stay within F1? That way, she stays in conversations when the driver market opens up again?” Max suggested. Carlos was tipsy at that point, not too sure about what they were discussing in that moment. The driver market got complicated at times; the tequila made it difficult for his comprehension. 
        “Maybe she needs a break from F1 if it’s making her as stressed out as Carlos is saying it is,” Charles chimed in, “There are plenty of teams outside F1 as well who would love to have her as their driver. Maybe she’s insisting on F1 because Carlos is in F1?” 
        Carlos’ thick brows furrowed at those words. Was it true? That she was only insisting on staying in F1 for him? That he was the one holding her back from jumping to other divisions of racing liek Charles was insinuating?
        He sat deep in thought that night as the conversation shifted to other topics his fellow drivers wished to talk about. He stumbled into their apartment that night, a frown in his face as he knew what he was about to do. 
        “Fun night out?” she questioned, a warm smile on her face as Carlos entered the apartment. He was going to miss that smile.
        “I think we need to break up,” he blurted out. Her eyes grew wide, the smile slipping off her face as she stared at him in disbelief. Chuckling as though she just misheard him. 
        “What?” 
        “It’s for your future, Amor. I know you love all things motorsports, and you told me how you would have gone for Indycar if you didn’t get into F1,” Carlos began to ramble, unable to sort through his drunken thoughts in a way that would have made sense to his sober girlfriend. 
        “What does that have to do with anything?” she demanded, her voice cracking upon the realization that he was serious about his words. 
        “It would be easier for you to leave if I wasn’t making you stay,” his voice broke. 
        “But you aren’t making me stay, Carlos. I’m choosing to stay,” she shook off his words, “Darling, you’re drunk. Surely, this is just a big misunderstanding. We can talk about this in the morning.” 
        “No. No. I have to leave now, you understand?” he sounded desperate as he rushed into their shared room to start packing. 
        “Carlos, darling, come on. We can have this discussion in the morning. You aren’t thinking straight,” she pleaded with him, “Carlos, let’s just go to bed, please?” 
        “Okay,” he nodded, following her into bed. When she had woken up, he was gone. Most of his things as well. He meant what he said that night, it seemed. 
July 11, 2023 (Great Britain)
        y/n wasn’t there for every Grand Prix that year. He found his eyes going to the Red Bull garage every chance he could, hoping he’d be able to catch a glimpse of her. Disappointment set in whenever he couldn’t find her, or whenever he learned she wasn’t going to attend the weekend at all. He went from seeing her daily to doing his best to steal glimpses of her. 
        Carlos Sainz was subscribed to the Oracle Red Bull Racing team’s YouTube channel. Though he was ashamed to admit it, he would have videos of her on the channel on replay constantly whenever he missed her. It was the only place he could catch her smiling and laughing nowadays. He wasn’t sure if her smiles were genuine. Part of him wished upon her the same hurt. Just to see that their relationship meant something to her. That he broke her heart as much as he did his own that day. 
        And though she did not see him often on race weekends she did attend, he was there. Hell, he was present at Silverstone, watching on as she did the tire tests for Pirelli, clad in a Red Bull racing suit as she drove a Red Bull car around the track. She looked amazing in the suit, driving around like she was still doing it every weekend. 
        Three in the morning again. He spent the night tossing and turning in the cold hotel bed thinking of her that day. She drove the car amazingly, with such ferocity. With a renewed vigor as she made her way through every corner, perfectly in sync with the car. He missed being with her on the track. He missed seeing her in the car, so perfectly in her element. He was a fool to think she would have walked away from Formula 1 that easily. 
        “Everyone’s talking about how amazing you did in the tire tests, amor. You did amazing. I would love to see you with a permanent seat in Red Bull. You were so happy there.” 
        He deleted the message again, unwilling to send it. Besides, after the day she had, she was likely asleep. His eyes grew wide at the notifications on his phone that popped up immediately after he erased his message. 
        A press release came out saying she was replacing Nyck De Vries in Alpha Tauri. She was back in a Formula 1 car. This is what she was working towards since the news broke form McLaren. He regretted parting ways with her now more than ever. 
        Had they still been together, he would have been the first person she told about the contract. He would have smiled proudly, excitement evident on his face as he took her out to dinner in celebration of her. Instead, there he was, stuck staring at his phone, trying to think about whether or not he wanted to send her a message. 
        What was there to say? What words were enough to make up for what he’d done to her. Would he tell her he was sorry? That he wanted her back? That he’d made a mistake in doing what his drunken self believed was best for her? 
        She knew exactly what she was doing in her career. He was stupid to think she wasn’t going to be back in a seat by the 2023 season. 
        “You’re back on the grid! Excited to see you with your foot back in the competition. The fans missed you as well, you should see the support they give you online. I missed you”
        Deleted again. 
August 25, 2023 (The Netherlands)
        Grand Prix weekends grew difficult for Carlos following the announcement. He had to see her more and more now. The media was saturated with reports about her, their focus heavy on her. Many eyes watched her, just to see if she was as promising as they said she would be. To see if she was worth sacking De Vries for. 
        Her face was everywhere on his social media. Her name slipped through everyone’s lips in gossip. The one time he wasn’t hearing about her, he found himself stuck in a press conference with her. 
        She sat herself on the furthest end of the couch, away from him. She acted as though there was no history between them. Though they knew, the drivers knew, the fans knew. They were together for years, back when she was in Red Bull with Sebastian himself. She put on an act of aloofness toward him every time he would look at her, plastering on a smile for the reporters who asked her questions. 
        It was evident she was excited for the weekend. Carlos knew he was what stood between her and actually enjoying the press conference. 
        “How are you feeling entering the race weekend?” one of the reporters directed the question to her. 
        “I’m very excited,” she announced with a smile, “I’ve been in the car for two Grand Prix, I’m still trying to get the hang of it and get in sync with it. I’m looking forward to being able to do more with the car than I was able to. I’m still getting used to the car in terms of race pace and all. I’m hoping for a few points this weekend.” 
        “She’ll be on the podium in no time when she gets the hang of the car,” Carlos chimed in awkwardly, eyes wandering over to y/n. 
        “I hope so,” she shrugged, a tense smile on her face, “I’ve got a ridiculous amount of competition for that, though.” 
        “You’ll do great,” Carlos spoke again. y/n looked over at him, nodding awkwardly before settling back into the couch. 
        Unfortunately, her race weekend was cut short when she hit the tire barriers in the second practice session of the weekend. The yellow flags came out and Carlos frowned as he saw her car in the tire barrier next to Oscar Piastri’s McLaren. 
        The news about her condition came later upon finding out her injury was worse than they initially thought. Her wrist was fractured. She was not going to be able to race that weekend. His heart felt for her as he recalled how excited she was in that press conference. 
       He continued on with the weekend, relying on announcements from social media regarding her condition. He finished fifth that weekend. 
September 17, 2023 (Singapore)
        He knew she was in the paddock that weekend. He was made aware of it on social media when the Alpha Tauri social media account posted about it to their feed. It was a photo of her in the Alpha Tauri pit wall, a smile on her face despite the fact she was not going to be racing that weekend. 
        The car had pace that weekend. The practice sessions proved that. However, he wasn’t sure if it was going to transmute to Qualifying positions. However, he was certain he was going to do his best because this time, there was hope for another win. And it was going to be in Singapore with y/n watching. 
        He pushed himself to his best during Qualifying. He was going for pole position and nobody was going to get in the way of that. With the Red Bulls out in Q2, Pole position was up for grabs. He was going to make sure he was the driver to get it. 
        He drove the quickest lap possible at that circuit, pushing his red Ferrari to its limit, pulling momentum into every turn he took, crossing the line with the quickest lap time. He’d done it. He was starting from Pole in Singapore. 
        That night, it wasn’t him with his eyes glued to his phone screen at 3 in the morning. No. That night, it had been y/n with her phone stuck in her hands, staring at his contact saved to her phone. Cameras caught her watching the qualifying session, a video circulating of the way her eyes lit up when Carlos set his time. 
        He didn’t see that, though. Not when he was in the car, celebrating getting pole position. 
        Still, she hesitated to click on his contact. Was it right for her to send him a message? He broke up with her. She had gone through a whirlwind that season and she didn’t hear a single word from Carlos. A sharp pain struck her injured wrist, the one she held her phone with, resulting in the block of glass and metal to hit her square in the face. 
        “Good job today, darling. Wishing you luck for tomorrow’s racefhkwe”
        Her eyes widened, mortified. The message was sent. She sighed, typing up another message, deciding there was no better time to say the words. 
        “I miss you.” 
        She spent the rest of the night in a dreamless sleep, awaiting a response to her message. Though, she knew Carlos well enough to know he kept his phone usage to a minimum on Grand Prix days. 
        Before the Grand Prix started, he pulled out his phone, killing time in the minutes before he had to enter his car. It was then he saw the message she sent him at 3 in the morning. His eyes grew wide, reading the three words over and over again. 
        “Carlos!” his race engineer called out to him, “The driver parade’s about to start.”
        He had no time to reply y/n’s message before he was pulled in all sorts of directions for Grand Prix duties. Soon enough, he was in the car, still not having been able to reply to her message. He was determined to get the whole race over with, eager to finally reply to her. It paid off in his favor. He crossed the line first. When the celebrations with the team at parc ferme were through, he made his way into the cooldown room in preparation for the podium ceremony. 
        He’d gotten so used to looking for her over the race weekends that he was sure he could spot her in any crowd. This time, his eyes grew wide as he climbed onto the top step of the podium. He blinked, believing his eyes were deceiving him. In the red sea of Ferrari, McLaren, and Mercedes staff, she stood out, clad in her Red Bull team shirt. She cheered excitedly with the crowd, despite the sling her arm was in.
        Despite her injury, there she was, joining the crowd to celebrate a podium ceremony Red Bull took no part in. He didn’t think he was going to see her anytime soon after her injury. Nothing was going to keep her from Formula 1. He was certain of that now.
        It was unmistakable, the glimmer in her eyes as she cheered along. The joy that was painted on her features as she gazed up at the top three finishers of the Grand Prix. A part of him hoped that gaze was meant for him. 
        When the ceremony ended, the team, including him gathered in the garage for celebratory pictures. To his surprise, there she was. 
        “y/n, what are you doing here?” he questioned, shock evident in his expression as he wiped the champagne away from his face. 
        “The team invited me after the podium ceremony,” she explained bashfully, her arms wrapping around her torso, unsure of what to do with her hands, “You never replied to my message.” 
        “I wanted to,” he breathed out, relieved she was finally talking to him, “I saw it right before the driver’s parade started. I wasn’t able to reply. If it’s any consolation, I miss you too.” 
        “We can talk about this later if you want to, yeah?” she smiled up at him, that twinkle in her eyes returning, “Go celebrate your win with the team.” 
        “No. No,” he shook his head, unwilling to put the conversation off any longer, “I made a mistake that night in Monaco. I thought, I thought that whatever I was doing was better for you. I thought it would have helped you shift your focus to other options in racing. I was an idiot.” 
        “Yeah. You were,” she gave a small smile. 
        “I’m sorry, y/n. Really, I’m sorry,” he frowned, “I know it will take time for you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m proud of you and I still love you. I was too guilty to tell you then, but I was so happy, seeing you make your way back to the grid this season, and—”
        “I forgive you,” she cut him off, tears in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his tall frame, “I love you too, Carlos.
December 19, 2022 (Spain)
        He was lost in the 2022 season.  Red Bull had a different dominance to them, and Ferrari could not seem to keep up with the absolute rocket ship of a car Red Bull had. In the end, his thoughts only drifted back to her. They both struggled greatly in the season. The season was over, and so were they. 
        It was three in the morning in Spain—he’d spent the night tossing and turning in bed, seeking warmth his blankets could not provide him—when the news stumbled onto his social media. Multiple accounts across multiple platforms announced y/n to be Red Bull’s third driver for the 2023 season. He even went on Red Bull’s account to verify the news. 
        He sighed. He believed she would have taken a break from Formula 1 in the time she wasn’t going to be driving. Instead, he was mortified to learn his ex girlfriend would only be a few garages up the pitlane. How couldn’t she? With the love Red Bull always had for her, it was never going to come into question that they would have bailed her out of the situation she found herself in for the season. 
        Despite Red Bull’s history with its drivers, his heart lit up with joy knowing they would have taken care of her. After all, her time with Red Bull was preferable to the time she spent with McLaren. He was almost in a daze, caught up in the moment when he found himself scrolling through his phone’s contacts, his heart skipping a beat as his gaze landed upon the familiar contact; her number saved under the name “Mi Amor”.
        “Saw the news, amor! Congratulations, I can’t wait to see you again on race weekends” he typed up before mentally kicking himself when a moment of logic washed over him. Though the message was plain, it was far too sentimental for his liking. Far too sentimental for what they were now. 
        “Congratulations. See you!” he made a attempt to revise the message. He sighed, repeatedly tapping on his phone’s backspace key until not a single trace of the message existed. No message. It’s what he had settled on instead that night. 
March 3, 2023 (Bahrain)
        It was time for the first race of the 2023 season. Walking through the paddock, he saw her. She smiled as she walked past reporters and photographers, clad in her team’s dark blue t-shirt as she made her way over to the Red Bull garage. He stood still, watching her from meters away as she disappeared behind the motorhome’s walls. He could not bring himself to move closer to her, unsure of whether or not he still had the right to do so after their breakup. 
        Back then, race weekends were not so awkward. They used to be fine. Perfectly fine, and so perfectly enamored with each other. Their eyes used to light up so clearly when they spotted each other from across the paddock walking into their respective motorhomes. It was never this messy between them. 
        August 27, 2022 (Belgium)
        The 2022 season was exhausting for the pair. y/n had just announced she was parting ways with McLaren and that made it all real. And though Carlos wanted to be there to support her, he had his work to do with Ferrari. After the announcement, she was working to prove herself to other teams, fighting to make the improvements she needed to. The pair hardly found much time for each other. 
        A few garages distance had never felt so far. 
        “So, Red Bull wants to give me a third driver seat,” she spoke as they jogged side-by-side on the hotel gym’s treadmills. Her e/c eyes scanned his face for a reaction, frowning when she got none. It took her waving her hand in front of his face for him to finally rid himself of his earphones. 
        “Sorry, amor, were you saying something?” he questioned cluelessly, an expectant look on his face. She frowned.
        “Never mind. I haven’t signed anything yet,” she shook away the thought of letting him in on the news this early. 
        “Why? Are you getting offers already?” he questioned almost absentmindedly, gaze fixed on the view outside the glass windows the treadmills were situated in front of. 
        “Kind of? Not really, though. It’s complicated and the driver market is insanely complicated this year,” she shook off the thought. Mercedes had offered her a role as a reserve driver, and Haas offered her a seat she had no plans of taking. She didn’t know how well those teams would have fared for her and her career. 
        “Let me know when you have a seat, yeah? We can go out and celebrate,” he smiled proudly before making a suggestion, “If you can’t find one, maybe I can put in a good word for you in Ferrari for a reserve driver seat or something.” 
        She grimaced at the thought. There was nothing wrong with it. She knew he was trying to help in a way he knew how. Still, it felt as though he were implying she needed him in order to stay in F1. Him leaving McLaren was what led her into the team in the first place. To many, it seemed like Carlos was responsible for the opportunities she was given in her career in recent years. It wasn’t fair for her achievements to be diminished by the fact that her career was waning, incomparable to the way her boyfriend’s career shone. 
        “I don’t need it,” she responded, her tone clipped, “I’ve got opportunities. Plenty of them. I’ll find a seat next year on the grid, and if I have to wait for somebody else’s contract to end, I’ll do it.”
        “Maybe you can try a different racing series?” he suggested, “Le Mans could be interesting for you, no? Maybe even rally cars like we did with papa that one time.”
        “And what about us? Would we be able to take it? Traveling to different places in the world at different times, our schedules almost never lining up?”
        “I think we can handle it,” he nodded, interlacing their fingers, “I have trust in our relationship. I know we can make it through anything.”
        “Well, I’d like to stay in F1. Maybe I can take a short break before I get a seat back. I’m sure I’m not leaving Formula 1, though.”
November 22, 2022, Monaco
        “You know, I think you’re taking this a bit extreme now,” Carlos sighed, watching her race on her racing simulator set up in their apartment. 
        “I have to do this, Carlos,” she insisted, “I have to prove I’ve still got it.” 
        “And who are you trying to prove it to? It’s just you and me here, y/n,” he reminded her, unplugging the simulator and wrapping his arms around her, “It’s going to be okay. Take a moment to rest.”
        “Okay,” she nodded, giving into his request and following him to the living room. She let out a sigh, “It’s weird for me to think I won’t be racing next season after all these years. I thought I had my contract sealed for next year. I thought I would have had time to redeem myself at McLaren instead of having them buy me out.”
        “I know, Amor,” he sighed into her hair as he held her in a comforting embrace, “I’m going out with some of the other drivers later. Do you want to go?”
        “I think I’ll stay here first,” she shook him off, “You have fun though. Don’t get too drunk, yeah?” 
        “I’ll try,” Carlos winked. 
        Later that night, he found himself on a quiet rooftop bar with George, Lando, Charles, and Max. 
        “I found her on the simulator earlier,” he admitted to his friends under the influence of a few tequila shots, “I mean, she seemed so rough earlier. I worry for her, you know? She’s so stressed out with everything that I feel bad because I have a seat and she doesn’t.”
        “Don’t you think it might hurt her if she has to keep traveling with you for F1?” Lando chimed in as the topic of y/n’s career came up. It was inevitable for them to end up talking. They were drivers, and y/n was Lando’s teammate. One way or another, it would have come up in conversation. 
        “And what makes you think that?” Carlos quirked a brow at Lando’s remark. 
        “Does she have any plans outside F1? I heard Nicky’s going back to uni with Logan replacing him,” George explained, taking a sip from his beer, “If not, maybe it will take some getting used to for her if she’s going to follow you around on races.” 
        “Well, not that I know of right now—”
        “Does she have a confirmed seat anywhere? Maybe even a reserve driver seat?” 
        “We haven’t talked about it yet,” the Spaniard shook his head at the thought, only vaguely being able to recall their conversation on the treadmills in Belgium. 
        “If she doesn’t have one, then yeah, I think it would suck for her to do all this F1 stuff with you. Especially with where her career is right now,” George sighed, rubbing his cheeks as though mentally putting himself in y/n’s shoes. 
        “But wouldn’t it be good for her to stay within F1? That way, she stays in conversations when the driver market opens up again?” Max suggested. Carlos was tipsy at that point, not too sure about what they were discussing in that moment. The driver market got complicated at times; the tequila made it difficult for his comprehension. 
        “Maybe she needs a break from F1 if it’s making her as stressed out as Carlos is saying it is,” Charles chimed in, “There are plenty of teams outside F1 as well who would love to have her as their driver. Maybe she’s insisting on F1 because Carlos is in F1?” 
        Carlos’ thick brows furrowed at those words. Was it true? That she was only insisting on staying in F1 for him? That he was the one holding her back from jumping to other divisions of racing liek Charles was insinuating?
        He sat deep in thought that night as the conversation shifted to other topics his fellow drivers wished to talk about. He stumbled into their apartment that night, a frown in his face as he knew what he was about to do. 
        “Fun night out?” she questioned, a warm smile on her face as Carlos entered the apartment. He was going to miss that smile.
        “I think we need to break up,” he blurted out. Her eyes grew wide, the smile slipping off her face as she stared at him in disbelief. Chuckling as though she just misheard him. 
        “What?” 
        “It’s for your future, Amor. I know you love all things motorsports, and you told me how you would have gone for Indycar if you didn’t get into F1,” Carlos began to ramble, unable to sort through his drunken thoughts in a way that would have made sense to his sober girlfriend. 
        “What does that have to do with anything?” she demanded, her voice cracking upon the realization that he was serious about his words. 
        “It would be easier for you to leave if I wasn’t making you stay,” his voice broke. 
        “But you aren’t making me stay, Carlos. I’m choosing to stay,” she shook off his words, “Darling, you’re drunk. Surely, this is just a big misunderstanding. We can talk about this in the morning.” 
        “No. No. I have to leave now, you understand?” he sounded desperate as he rushed into their shared room to start packing. 
        “Carlos, darling, come on. We can have this discussion in the morning. You aren’t thinking straight,” she pleaded with him, “Carlos, let’s just go to bed, please?” 
        “Okay,” he nodded, following her into bed. When she had woken up, he was gone. Most of his things as well. He meant what he said that night, it seemed. 
July 11, 2023 (Great Britain)
        y/n wasn’t there for every Grand Prix that year. He found his eyes going to the Red Bull garage every chance he could, hoping he’d be able to catch a glimpse of her. Disappointment set in whenever he couldn’t find her, or whenever he learned she wasn’t going to attend the weekend at all. He went from seeing her daily to doing his best to steal glimpses of her. 
        Carlos Sainz was subscribed to the Oracle Red Bull Racing team’s YouTube channel. Though he was ashamed to admit it, he would have videos of her on the channel on replay constantly whenever he missed her. It was the only place he could catch her smiling and laughing nowadays. He wasn’t sure if her smiles were genuine. Part of him wished upon her the same hurt. Just to see that their relationship meant something to her. That he broke her heart as much as he did his own that day. 
        And though she did not see him often on race weekends she did attend, he was there. Hell, he was present at Silverstone, watching on as she did the tire tests for Pirelli, clad in a Red Bull racing suit as she drove a Red Bull car around the track. She looked amazing in the suit, driving around like she was still doing it every weekend. 
        Three in the morning again. He spent the night tossing and turning in the cold hotel bed thinking of her that day. She drove the car amazingly, with such ferocity. With a renewed vigor as she made her way through every corner, perfectly in sync with the car. He missed being with her on the track. He missed seeing her in the car, so perfectly in her element. He was a fool to think she would have walked away from Formula 1 that easily. 
        “Everyone’s talking about how amazing you did in the tire tests, amor. You did amazing. I would love to see you with a permanent seat in Red Bull. You were so happy there.” 
        He deleted the message again, unwilling to send it. Besides, after the day she had, she was likely asleep. His eyes grew wide at the notifications on his phone that popped up immediately after he erased his message. 
        A press release came out saying she was replacing Nyck De Vries in Alpha Tauri. She was back in a Formula 1 car. This is what she was working towards since the news broke form McLaren. He regretted parting ways with her now more than ever. 
        Had they still been together, he would have been the first person she told about the contract. He would have smiled proudly, excitement evident on his face as he took her out to dinner in celebration of her. Instead, there he was, stuck staring at his phone, trying to think about whether or not he wanted to send her a message. 
        What was there to say? What words were enough to make up for what he’d done to her. Would he tell her he was sorry? That he wanted her back? That he’d made a mistake in doing what his drunken self believed was best for her? 
        She knew exactly what she was doing in her career. He was stupid to think she wasn’t going to be back in a seat by the 2023 season. 
        “You’re back on the grid! Excited to see you with your foot back in the competition. The fans missed you as well, you should see the support they give you online. I missed you”
        Deleted again. 
August 25, 2023 (The Netherlands)
        Grand Prix weekends grew difficult for Carlos following the announcement. He had to see her more and more now. The media was saturated with reports about her, their focus heavy on her. Many eyes watched her, just to see if she was as promising as they said she would be. To see if she was worth sacking De Vries for. 
        Her face was everywhere on his social media. Her name slipped through everyone’s lips in gossip. The one time he wasn’t hearing about her, he found himself stuck in a press conference with her. 
        She sat herself on the furthest end of the couch, away from him. She acted as though there was no history between them. Though they knew, the drivers knew, the fans knew. They were together for years, back when she was in Red Bull with Sebastian himself. She put on an act of aloofness toward him every time he would look at her, plastering on a smile for the reporters who asked her questions. 
        It was evident she was excited for the weekend. Carlos knew he was what stood between her and actually enjoying the press conference. 
        “How are you feeling entering the race weekend?” one of the reporters directed the question to her. 
        “I’m very excited,” she announced with a smile, “I’ve been in the car for two Grand Prix, I’m still trying to get the hang of it and get in sync with it. I’m looking forward to being able to do more with the car than I was able to. I’m still getting used to the car in terms of race pace and all. I’m hoping for a few points this weekend.” 
        “She’ll be on the podium in no time when she gets the hang of the car,” Carlos chimed in awkwardly, eyes wandering over to y/n. 
        “I hope so,” she shrugged, a tense smile on her face, “I’ve got a ridiculous amount of competition for that, though.” 
        “You’ll do great,” Carlos spoke again. y/n looked over at him, nodding awkwardly before settling back into the couch. 
        Unfortunately, her race weekend was cut short when she hit the tire barriers in the second practice session of the weekend. The yellow flags came out and Carlos frowned as he saw her car in the tire barrier next to Oscar Piastri’s McLaren. 
        The news about her condition came later upon finding out her injury was worse than they initially thought. Her wrist was fractured. She was not going to be able to race that weekend. His heart felt for her as he recalled how excited she was in that press conference. 
       He continued on with the weekend, relying on announcements from social media regarding her condition. He finished fifth that weekend. 
September 17, 2023 (Singapore)
        He knew she was in the paddock that weekend. He was made aware of it on social media when the Alpha Tauri social media account posted about it to their feed. It was a photo of her in the Alpha Tauri pit wall, a smile on her face despite the fact she was not going to be racing that weekend. 
        The car had pace that weekend. The practice sessions proved that. However, he wasn’t sure if it was going to transmute to Qualifying positions. However, he was certain he was going to do his best because this time, there was hope for another win. And it was going to be in Singapore with y/n watching. 
        He pushed himself to his best during Qualifying. He was going for pole position and nobody was going to get in the way of that. With the Red Bulls out in Q2, Pole position was up for grabs. He was going to make sure he was the driver to get it. 
        He drove the quickest lap possible at that circuit, pushing his red Ferrari to its limit, pulling momentum into every turn he took, crossing the line with the quickest lap time. He’d done it. He was starting from Pole in Singapore. 
        That night, it wasn’t him with his eyes glued to his phone screen at 3 in the morning. No. That night, it had been y/n with her phone stuck in her hands, staring at his contact saved to her phone. Cameras caught her watching the qualifying session, a video circulating of the way her eyes lit up when Carlos set his time. 
        He didn’t see that, though. Not when he was in the car, celebrating getting pole position. 
        Still, she hesitated to click on his contact. Was it right for her to send him a message? He broke up with her. She had gone through a whirlwind that season and she didn’t hear a single word from Carlos. A sharp pain struck her injured wrist, the one she held her phone with, resulting in the block of glass and metal to hit her square in the face. 
        “Good job today, darling. Wishing you luck for tomorrow’s racefhkwe”
        Her eyes widened, mortified. The message was sent. She sighed, typing up another message, deciding there was no better time to say the words. 
        “I miss you.” 
        She spent the rest of the night in a dreamless sleep, awaiting a response to her message. Though, she knew Carlos well enough to know he kept his phone usage to a minimum on Grand Prix days. 
        Before the Grand Prix started, he pulled out his phone, killing time in the minutes before he had to enter his car. It was then he saw the message she sent him at 3 in the morning. His eyes grew wide, reading the three words over and over again. 
        “Carlos!” his race engineer called out to him, “The driver parade’s about to start.”
        He had no time to reply y/n’s message before he was pulled in all sorts of directions for Grand Prix duties. Soon enough, he was in the car, still not having been able to reply to her message. He was determined to get the whole race over with, eager to finally reply to her. It paid off in his favor. He crossed the line first. When the celebrations with the team at parc ferme were through, he made his way into the cooldown room in preparation for the podium ceremony. 
        He’d gotten so used to looking for her over the race weekends that he was sure he could spot her in any crowd. This time, his eyes grew wide as he climbed onto the top step of the podium. He blinked, believing his eyes were deceiving him. In the red sea of Ferrari, McLaren, and Mercedes staff, she stood out, clad in her Red Bull team shirt. She cheered excitedly with the crowd, despite the sling her arm was in.
        Despite her injury, there she was, joining the crowd to celebrate a podium ceremony Red Bull took no part in. He didn’t think he was going to see her anytime soon after her injury. Nothing was going to keep her from Formula 1. He was certain of that now.
        It was unmistakable, the glimmer in her eyes as she cheered along. The joy that was painted on her features as she gazed up at the top three finishers of the Grand Prix. A part of him hoped that gaze was meant for him. 
        When the ceremony ended, the team, including him gathered in the garage for celebratory pictures. To his surprise, there she was. 
        “y/n, what are you doing here?” he questioned, shock evident in his expression as he wiped the champagne away from his face. 
        “The team invited me after the podium ceremony,” she explained bashfully, her arms wrapping around her torso, unsure of what to do with her hands, “You never replied to my message.” 
        “I wanted to,” he breathed out, relieved she was finally talking to him, “I saw it right before the driver’s parade started. I wasn’t able to reply. If it’s any consolation, I miss you too.” 
        “We can talk about this later if you want to, yeah?” she smiled up at him, that twinkle in her eyes returning, “Go celebrate your win with the team.” 
        “No. No,” he shook his head, unwilling to put the conversation off any longer, “I made a mistake that night in Monaco. I thought, I thought that whatever I was doing was better for you. I thought it would have helped you shift your focus to other options in racing. I was an idiot.” 
        “Yeah. You were,” she gave a small smile. 
        “I’m sorry, y/n. Really, I’m sorry,” he frowned, “I know it will take time for you to forgive me, but I want you to know that I’m proud of you and I still love you. I was too guilty to tell you then, but I was so happy, seeing you make your way back to the grid this season, and—”
        “I forgive you,” she cut him off, tears in her eyes as she wrapped her arms around his tall frame, “I love you too, Carlos.
a/n: this was a draft i found from last year and decided to fix up today, my writing's hella rustayyyy 😭
F1 TAGS: @errrrrat / @ricsaigaslec / @veronicapaula / @buendiabebeta / @abditory-77 / @navia3000 / @revengze / @love4lando / @princessria127 /
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callmewrinkles3 · 1 year
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All Too Well - DR3 x Fem!OC
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Summary: Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye to your family without telling them it’s a final goodbye is even harder. But Em has come to terms that Dan doesn’t love her the same way she loves him, and leaving on her own terms will hurt less than being told he’s ending things. March 2022.
Word Count: 12.3k
Warnings: fighting, all the angst this bad boy can carry, lil bit of a dickhead!Dan, running away from your friends, mentions of death, mentions of motorsport crashes and deaths, moving without telling anyone, lying to family, talk of medical procedures, frank talks about what people want to happen if they can’t decide.
A/N: We’ve kept you waiting, but we hope this was worth the wait! This part of our story is what started us on this madcap adventure together, and it’s a lot of what makes our beloved Em Em. Thank you in advance!
Em stared at the two boarding passes in front of her as she sat in the fancy Heathrow lounge, a caramel latte beside them. Heathrow to Dubai, Dubai to Melbourne. More than twenty hours spent on planes to get to Melbourne, to jump into work and get stuck in at the Australian Grand Prix. And it was the last thing she wanted to do.
She should be excited. She should be so happy because she was about to see the boys after over a week apart, she was about to see Dan. She was finally going to get to see the Ricciardos after almost two years apart. But she was dreading it, the memories from Saudi filling her head as she thought. Em forced her attention to the laptop sitting on her knees, emails up and the one she never thought she’d write sitting in the middle of the screen.
SUB: Resignation Letter
Dear Blake,
Please use this email as my official resignation, effective immediately. I’m sorry that I can’t offer any more notice.
Working with you has been fantastic, and I appreciate everything we’ve gotten to do over the past three years.
Kind regards,
Emma.
Signing it Emma felt wrong. Emma was for Zak Brown and Andreas Sidle. Christian Horner had used it the one time she was introduced to him at Red Bull. She was always Em or Ems now. Except for Dan, she was his Emmy. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Or ever again. If he called her that she thought she might lose the last grip she had on her composure and break.
The email was scheduled and sitting in her outbox to send after the race, and the last thing she did before boarding was reschedule her flight home. Instead of leaving Monday morning with the boys, she was going on Sunday evening. She’d be somewhere over Queensland by the time Blake received the email and the boys would be at least twelve hours behind her. It was enough time to make sure she could be well ahead of them and get away.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be smiling and laughing, and she was supposed to be in Perth right now cuddling her niblings and laughing with Grace and Joe. Learning to cook yet another family recipe and insisting that she and Dan were just friends. She couldn’t even answer the question honestly if they were friends now.
He’d sent her away. The one thing she begged him not to do, the pinkie promise she’d made him give. The only promise she had ever asked him to keep. Not to stay safe while driving, not to do anything else. Not to leave her alone. The near screaming match they’d had in his drivers room that Blake and Michael had to break up. The way he didn’t even look at her but told Blake to “take Ems to the hotel”. How she had tears streaming down her face as she was escorted through the paddock like she wasn’t supposed to be there.
She still didn’t fully believe that she’d dropped her phone in the car. Em shouldn’t even have been in the car alone with Blake, but Dan insisted she went to the hotel room so she went. She was left there alone in Saudi Arabia, where Dan knew she couldn’t leave the hotel. She stared out the window at the smoke from the rockets, completely alone all night until Michael knocked on her door the following morning and she had to pretend everything was fine.
She’d worked from hospitality and as soon as the race finished she changed her flights to go back to London instead of Perth, making up an excuse. And Dan bought that she was going back for her parents.
“Family stuff.” She’d said when he asked.
“Em, you don’t talk to your family much.” She was folding clothes into her case, the one she’d brought that had her Australia clothes already standing fully packed.
“Yeah, but it’s family. My parents have their thirty fifth wedding anniversary in a few weeks, I’m helping plan it.” Only the last part of her words were a lie and she bit her tongue.
“Everyone wants to see you, they all miss you and they keep asking when you’ll be over. The kids miss you.”
“I’ll see them in Melbourne, Dan. You go, enjoy your time at home with them.”
She’d gotten a car to bring her to the airport and Dan hadn’t even asked a question, just a “text me when you land”. There was no hug, no even quick hand squeeze like they usually did in the Middle East. That’s when she knew whatever they were doing. The nearly four years of sleeping together and pretending they weren’t, of the media wondering who she was and why she was always there, was over.
She’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to catch feelings, that it was just sex. That she could do it. That every time she told Dan “y’know, right?” it was purely platonic. That the slow sex was just them wanting to take their time, nothing else. That she hadn’t murmured to Dan to make love to her in Bahrain when they shouldn’t have even been sharing a room after Grosjean’s crash, when he kissed her and held onto her and whispered that he loved her as he entered her.
Because that was sixteen months ago and nothing had changed. It was never going to change between them. Their fight in Saudi had proven it, and now she had to pretend that everything was fine before she said goodbye to the people she loved for the last time.
She couldn’t keep working with Dan when not sleeping with him. She couldn’t watch him fall for another woman, couldn’t get introduced to more people as “Em, my best friend” anymore. She was his Emmy. He was her Danny. And not getting to love him and be loved by him how she wanted to was going to kill her.
The flights were what she expected, Dan had upgraded her tickets to first class like he always did and she wanted to kill him like she always did. She spent the flights and the layovers organising his calendar for the next three months, tracking his flights and cross checking the sponsor events that had been filled in. Everything up to Hungary was booked and ready to go. She checked her watch when she was halfway to Melbourne, realising that he’d be at the Optus event she was usually on his arm for. She was supposed to be there this year, but she told him to take Michelle instead. All the events around the Australian GP that she always went as his plus one, wearing the star necklace he’d gotten her for her birthday, and the matching earrings that were her Christmas present the same year. Her outfit was usually one he’d bought for her against her protests because “let me spoil you” was how he showed that he cared, and she always wore the gold moon ring on her thumb that matched the sun one she’d bought him for his little finger. Most of her wardrobe and all of her everyday jewellery were presents from Dan. Her life was completely entwined with his, and untangling it all was going to hurt.
Her flight got in at god-awful o’clock that Wednesday morning, she’d lost a full day having left London on the Monday evening, but she walked through Melbourne customs with her suitcase glad to just be through. She’d told everyone she’d get an Uber to the hotel and meet them for breakfast, but instead as soon as she appeared in front of the glowing Melbourne sign two small figures ran to her yelling.
“AUNTIE EMMY YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE HERE!” Em dropped her bags and fell to her knees, arms wide open to pull Isaac and Isabella into her and pressing so many kisses to their curly heads.
“I’m here, I’m here. I missed you both so much. So, so much. I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you, I wanted to see you sooner.” Stupid Western Australia and closed borders and not letting people through. Her eyes began shining as she took in the difference in the two kids, Isaac at least a foot taller and losing the childlike way he’d spoken. Isabella had doubled in size, long hair and a child instead of a toddler the last time she’d seen her in person.
“It’s ok, you’re here now! Nana said you’ll sit with us for ev’rything ‘cept the race? Cause we’ve got two years of birthday and Christmas pressies for you!” Isaac looked so proud, grinning as he took her wheeled carry on and pulled it.
“I can’t wait. Who’re you here with?”
“Grandad Joe! He has our sign, Uncle Mike and Uncle Blake told us we had to use all the glitter. We were gonna wait, but I saw you and I wanted a hug. Is that ok?” He looked almost worried of her response, but she ruffled his hair.
“It’s more than ok. All I wanted was hugs from the two of you.”
Isabella clung to her waist, Em lifting her up with one arm and mentally thanking Michael for the strength training that let her carry the girl and pull her suitcase with her. She looked around to see Joe holding a giant piece of bright orange card, Auntie Emmy written on it in blue and silver glitter. It was the shiniest thing she’d ever seen in her life, and it was coming home with her even with the craft herpes that would infest her suitcase. Joe pulled her into a one armed hug on the side his granddaughter wasn’t monopolising, pushing a kiss to the side of her forehead that made her want to cry.
“We missed you, kiddo. Grace wanted to be here but we couldn’t fit her in the car too, and Dan’s doing media today. You cut it tight to get in.”
“It’s my parents wedding anniversary next week, I’ve been helping. I have to fly out after the race on Sunday.” It was Wednesday, and she could see his face fall as he realised how little time they’d have together.
“We’re spending as much time with you as we can until you go. Those boys get you all year round, we get you for this weekend.”
“That sounds perfect.”
When they made it to the hotel Em was greeted with yet more hugs from Grace, Michelle, and Michelle’s husband Adam. There were tears in everyone’s eyes at the reunion, and the long hug from Grace was the best thing ever and broke her heart at the same time. It was so restorative, so good, but she wasn’t going to get many more of them.
“Dan checked you in, here’s your key. He’s got the room on the other side of you, Blake’s on the other wall, we’re most of our corridor. Do you want to get some sleep and we’ll call you at noon?”
The first thing Em noticed about her room was the adjoining door between her room and Dan’s. She closed the lock gently to make sure she was completely alone. After that she napped fitfully, waking up to knocks on the door and yet more hugs. The day was spent going to the zoo, kids hanging out of her as she swung them around and gave piggybacks, feeling exactly like part of the family. Blake told her to take the day off for jet lag, and she wasn’t complaining.
That evening was filled with fun as the kids clung to her while she pulled out the first of so many presents. Chocolate first so she could see their faces eating proper chocolate rather than the Australian stuff that didn’t melt in the heat. The bag of duty free was quickly eaten between everyone, a movie on tv as she filled everyone in on what she had been doing. It wasn’t until after eight that Dan appeared wearing a suit.
“Ems! I thought you were coming with me tonight?” She looked up from where she’d been half dozing with Isabella curled up against her, taking in her best friend wearing a navy blue suit and white shirt.
“Coming to what? I’m taking today for jet lag. What’s tonight?”
“The AusGP reception. You always come!” Confusion was written all over his face and Em swallowed once, looking at him carefully.
“I said I wasn’t doing anything this year. I have to leave pretty much straight after the race, I don’t have time.”
“Emmy, please.” She hated that she couldn’t resist him when he did that, when her name curled around his accent like that.
“I don’t have anything to wear.” This was the closest they’d ever come to an argument in front of his family. Their eyes were going between them as if watching a tennis match.
“I got you something.”
“Dan, you can’t do that.” It was pointless to argue but she had to try make her point. She couldn’t just do everything because he wanted her to.
“I did. C’mon, it’s three hours and some schmoozing and we can come back so you can go to bed. He did his best impression of puppy dog eyes, lifting Isabella from her. “You want to see Auntie Emmy all glam and pretty, right Is?”
“Yeah! She’s always pretty.”
“You’re very right. I left the dress in your room, Ems. Please?”
“Fine.”
She said her goodbyes and went into her room, making sure the adjoining door was locked before going into shower and change. As she walked into the bathroom she thought she heard the door rattle but ignored it, forcing herself to take time to put herself together.
Years travelling around the world had taught her how to make herself look presentable in very little time, forcing her to learn how to do a blow dry with a hotel hairdryer. It took less than an hour to have hair and makeup perfectly done, a wrap around her shoulders and a pair of heels on her feet. The dress Dan had picked was perfect for her. It was lavender, knee length with a corset top, and her jewellery worked perfectly with it. He had taste when it wasn’t about party shirts. Once she was ready she picked up a clutch and knocked on Dan’s door. He opened the door confused, but ready to go.
“I thought you’d use the adjoining door? It’s why I got us these rooms.”
“I’m tired, Dan. Can we just get this over with?”
The launch was like anything else, an event to deal with. There were speeches and then wandering around the room, Dan’s hand hovering at her lower back but not quite touching her. She smiled as she was introduced as “meet Ems, she’s my best friend and my manager’s assistant who keeps my life on track”, even while her heart was breaking. But she kept her cool, finally managing to break away from Dan for a few minutes to chat to Ted and Natalie from Sky while Dan did the rounds.
“I didn’t know if you’d be here. I was talking to Michael yesterday, he said you weren’t in Perth with them,” Ted remarked as Em looked at the almost empty glass of champagne in his hand.
“Is this going to end up as gossip on the notebook if we talk?” Nat nearly snorted with laughter, Ted shaking his head with a chuckle.
“Nope. I’m drinking so I’m officially off work duties. Unless you have any gossip about things? Anything that I can attribute to an unnamed McLaren source?”
“I don’t work for McLaren, thankfully Zak doesn’t sign my paycheque. But no, I’ve got no gossip. There’s some family stuff happening so I have to head home pretty much as soon as the race is over. But I needed to see everyone, it’s been almost two years and I missed them.”
“Fair.” They chatted about the season so far, studiously ignoring the controversy around the last race, until Dan arrived back to make excuses and get them to leave the party.
“Back to the hotel?”
“You read my mind.”
The car ride back was the most awkward one the two of them had ever done and Em didn’t know what to do. Usually if they were in a car alone together they’d be curled into each other or at least holding hands. But she was on her side of the SUV, Dan was on his, and the hand she’d stretched into the middle as a peace offering was ignored. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with that. Didn’t want to know, really. All his actions did was solidify that the painful decision she’d reached was the right one. Just because things could be easy didn’t mean they were right.
When they reached their floor in the hotel Dan stopped outside her hotel room as Em waved the keycard at the lock.
“Night, Dan.”
“But I thought…”
“What?” She was sharper than she should have been, but she was jet lagged and tired and heart sore.
“I thought we’d be sharing a room.”
“Your family are two doors down and the kids are here. The chances of at least one of them knocking on my door before I want to get up in the morning are high, and I don’t want to have to explain why we share a bed when we’re not married. Do you?”
“Not particularly.”
“Exactly. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As soon as the hallway door closed behind her she double checked the lock on the adjoining door before flipping over the door lock. If she’d looked out the peephole she would have seen a confused and disappointed Dan standing in the hallway.
The next few days passed in a haze of having the kids around, working, and ignoring Zak. She knew he was the original source of the rumours the year before, he was the one who got Mazepin to start spreading that she was sleeping with all three of her boys. It was her greatest pleasure to get to tell him no, and she did it with joy.
But in between finalising as much as she could before her resignation was sent she had time to wander Melbourne alone. She loved the city. It had always welcomed her in, it was Dan’s home race and the place where she knew everyone adored him. Em wandered around a craft market, finding a jewellery maker who made gold charms and engraved them on the spot. It took her all of ten seconds to buy two and get them put on different coloured leather cords, one each for Isaac and Isabella. The front had a pair of angel wings for each of her angel kids, and the engraving on the back read love you forever, Auntie Emmy. 
Leaving her family behind was going to be the hardest part of this, and she needed to make sure that they knew just how much she loved them. Em was so aware that she was about to be the first adult to choose to walk out of their lives, and she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to break their hearts the way hers would break too. She just hoped that when they realised she wasn’t coming back they’d know she wanted to tell them how much she loved them.
Practice and qualifying were shit and she felt her dislike of the team growing even stronger. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to deal with the stupid orange team and the way that they were favouring Lando already. Dan was the one who won a race last year, not Lando. He was the one who had proven himself with podiums galore. But they didn’t care.
That night she left the door between their rooms unlocked. Her bags were half packed, her resignation email was scheduled to send and she’d triple checked the timezone on it. Em had spent the last two days hugging everyone as much as she could, surprising Chloe by popping into the Aston garage before a practice and waving to Lance and Seb as she pulled Chloe into a giant hug. Scotty got one too, trying to put the love and care she had for her best friends outside her boys into a hug. There were waves to the people she couldn’t hug because rumours would start, giving Susie a recommendation for the restaurant they all ate at the night before so she and Toto could have a family meal with Jack in privacy. The small things to make sure everyone knew she thought about them and loved them.
Em couldn’t sleep straight away. Nights before races were hard, the crashes she’d watched with her own two eyes usually playing in her head. Dan in Anthoine’s car, Dan in Grosjean’s. Dan in Lewis’s place the year before with no halo. Dan in the rain and a tractor on track. All the ways she knew people had died racing she thought about and she couldn’t deal. Her fear every time Dan slid into his seat in the car was all encompassing but racing was his first love and she could never ask him to stop.
She was about to get up and go down to Michael’s room to ask for some melatonin, but the doorknob between the two rooms rattled and clicked open quietly. Em stayed still as she was, breathing in and out steadily.
Dan slipped into the other side of the bed. If she just opened her eyes she’d be able to see him. If she reached her fingers out slightly she could touch him. It was the first time they’d shared a bed since Bahrain and being just over covid and she wanted him to hold her. Her body was screaming to curl into him and tell him she loves him and she’s his and she doesn’t want him to fall in love with anyone else because she wants him to love her. To choose her over all the models in the world he could have.
She didn’t sleep that night, too aware of his presence in the bed. She could hear his snores but she didn’t dare look up at him, didn’t dare move in case she disturbed him. He needed his sleep the night before a race.
As the morning dawned through crappy hotel curtains she could feel the vibrations from the alarm on his watch, the one he always used to try let her get some extra sleep when he needed to be up early.
Please kiss my forehead. Please, Dan. Please just give me any sign you want me to stay. Don’t leave me again.
Every morning was the same when they shared a bed. He’d delay until the very last minute to stay in the warmth and then kiss her forehead in goodbye. And then he’d leave, not content to get out from there until he made sure she knew he said goodbye.
This time he slid out of the bed without touching her, padding across the still room and going back into his. Em heard the lock slide shut on his side and rolled over, tears filling her eyes.
It hurt so much already, how was she supposed to pretend that everything was fine? How was she supposed to act normal around everyone when she wanted to scream that they were over and nothing would ever be the same again? How could she be okay when she felt like this? 
He’d left her alone. Again. He hadn’t even touched her but he’d slept in her bed and she never thought Dan could be so cruel. She never thought he’d leave her with the barest hint of his scent, that if she hadn’t been awake she wouldn’t have known he was there. The ache spread through her chest and she tried to quiet her sobs but it hurt. It hurt so, so badly.
A cold shower soothed her puffy face, getting rid of some of the usual redness while makeup did the rest. She was dressed in her usual race day gear of shorts, vans, a McLaren polo, and a Dan hat on her head by the time there was a knock on her door, Michael standing there.
“Hey, I’m heading in with Dan and Blake now. He said you’re going in with his family in an hour?” Another cut in her heart. More space between them. But she schooled her face into a smile, hoping Michael would believe everything was fine.
“Yeah. I said I wanted as much time with the kids as possible, it’s fine.  See you there?”
“See you there.”
Michael was a couple of metres away from her when she stepped into the hall, grabbing her room key from the slot just inside the door.
“Michael?” He turned and she half jogged, pulling him into a tight hug.
“What’s this for?”
“Haven’t seen you as much. You know you’re my brother, right? How lucky I am to have you as my family?”
“You’re the most annoying little sister Ems, but you’re my little sister. I’ve missed having you around.”
“Miss you too.”
She watched him walk away as step one of her goodbyes was done. The next was to go to breakfast with everyone and pretend that things were normal for the next few hours until the race was over. She could do it. She had to.
Breakfast with the extended Ricciardo clan was fun, Isabella still clinging to her and Isaac insisting on sitting beside her. She soaked up every moment she got with them, walking out to the car Dan had arranged holding Isabella on her hip.
“That’ll be you in a few years,” Michelle commented as Em struggled with the car seat buckle before getting it right. “The mother, not the cool aunt. We can swap places.”
Another stab to her already mangled heart. “I dunno. Wait and see, but I’m not sure that’s on the cards any time soon.” Considering the only man she wanted to have a child with didn’t want to be with her, it was a no.
You’ll be a good mother, Em. Plus you’ll have loads of family around.” She wanted to scream that she was leaving her family behind for good this afternoon but instead she just smiled tightly. It was too close to home. She couldn’t keep this conversation going. It hurt.
The race matched her mood. The strategy wasn’t good, the car was a tractor, and the oblique team orders to not let Dan try overtake Lando made her want to scream. The team points would be the same, but no. Not for his home race even. The crowd were amazing and let out loud cheers every time the orange car made its way around the circuit, but it wasn’t enough and Em knew it. It hurt. Her last time at a Grand Prix, her last time cheering for the man she was so deeply in love with, and the team and car had let him down again.
The plan was already to delay debrief till Monday so Dan got to spend time with his family, and Em decided to head to the airport nearly immediately. She couldn’t stay any longer. She couldn’t deal with any more hints from Michelle about a niece or nephew in the future, couldn’t listen to Grace or Joe talking about how much they’d missed her. She couldn’t spend more time with Blake and Michael without wanting to break down and tell them that they had changed her life and she wouldn’t make them choose between her and Dan.
Because that was what it came down to. She was the last one in this group that was all united by their love of Daniel Ricciardo. She was the one who loved him so deeply it hurt, the one who loved every single member of the group to the moon and to Saturn. And she loved them so much she couldn’t bear to have them walk away from her. Because that was what would happen.
Her own blood family didn’t choose her. They saw her as a disgrace, as a failure because she was thirty one years old, unmarried and without kids. They didn’t realise that she was the one who kept Dan on schedule, who organised sponsor events and filtered out the crap he and Blake didn’t need to know about. She stopped the balls from falling out of the sky. Because she was just an assistant.
And if the people who gave birth to her wouldn’t choose her, she knew the family she’d built wouldn’t either. She was never the one who was chosen, and she didn’t blame them. She was just Emma. Danny was Dan. She knew who she’d pick if given a quarter of a chance.
She’d just finished packing when the adjoining door opened, Dan walking in already speaking but stopping when he saw the case by the door, her carry on full with the edge of the orange poster getting folded in.
“Where are you going?” His tone was accusatory and she steeled herself for the argument.
“Home.”
“Emmy…”
“Don’t Emmy me, Daniel! You know I have to go back for the anniversary.” She turned to look at him, watching as confusion turned to anger.
“And I also know that’s bullshit. I’ve known you for how many years, Em? You’ve visited your parents twice. Michael was with you one of those times, the visit lasted twenty minutes and even he didn’t have anything nice to say about it. Michael. Who has a good thing to say about almost everyone. So tell me the truth, why are you leaving now? Why not get on the flight with us tomorrow?”
“Because I have to go back.”
“Don’t lie to me Em!” He raised his voice and Em gave as good as she got, staring back at him.
“You want the truth, Dan? All of it?”
“Yes! That’s all I want, it’s all I’ve ever wanted with you.”
She took a deep breath, staring into his brown eyes for the last time, soaking in that even so angry he was so beautiful. She’d had the privilege of sleeping with him for nearly four years, of loving him for three. Whoever got to do that next would be so incredibly lucky.
“You left me alone. The one thing I ever asked of you, the only thing I ever asked you to promise me was to never leave me alone. I begged you. Whatever was going on, whatever was happening with us, please don’t leave me alone. And then there were bombs flying and I watched one explode and you made me get into a car and leave. You made me stay alone, and you didn’t come back to me that night. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know if you were even alive because I didn’t have my fucking phone until the next morning and all the news was in Arabic. You were gone to the track before I knew what had happened. You left. You broke your promise, Daniel.”
“I didn’t have a choice!” It was the worst thing he could have said.
“But Blake and Michael got to stay. Angela stayed with Lewis, don’t try to lie to me and tell me she didn’t. Britta stayed with Seb. You sent me away, Dan. I was sobbing and begging you to stay and you made Blake drive me away. You made me leave when I was scared.” She let her words sink into him fully. “Just leave. Get out of this room and leave.”
“Emmy…” His voice was soft and she blinked back the tears she knew she wanted to cry. Not until the airport. Not until then.
“GET OUT DAN!” She yelled at him for the first time, shock on his face. “JUST LEAVE! It’s what you’ve been doing this whole weekend, just leave.”
“Fine. Fine. If that’s what you want, I’m fucking gone. I’m done here, I’m gone. I’ll be downstairs in five for you to say goodbye to everyone.” She watched him walk through the adjoining door and lock it as Em’s heart completely broke in two. She’d ruined it. He was done. He was gone. He was leaving and she was going and she would never speak to him again because her Daniel wasn’t hers anymore. One person down, eight to go.
She brought her bags down to the lobby alone, everyone standing there waiting to say goodbye. Michael got a hug, she’d said everything she needed to earlier that day. Blake was beside him, wrapping her in a full body giant one and holding her tight.
“You know I love you, don’t you? I really love you.” Blake grinned and pulled her close again.
“Love you too, Ems. Moving beside you was the best decision I ever made.”
Saying goodbye to Michelle and Adam was hugs and whispers of seeing them for Christmas when she knew it was a lie. Grace pulled her into a hug that only a mother figure could, whispering in her ear.
“We’re coming over for Silverstone and yours and Dan’s birthdays, so we’ll see you then. We love you Em. If you need anything I’m only a FaceTime away. Don’t let them get you down when you’re with your family.”
“I love you too, Grace.”
Joe got a hug and a murmured love you, his hand patting her back soothingly. The kids were last, sulking as Em squatted down in front of them.
“So I got my angels a present to say goodbye, cause I know I didn’t get to see you lots. Want to see them?” There were identical nods and Em strapped the bracelets on, Isaac’s on a black cord and Isabella’s on a purple one.
“It matches the one I made you and Uncle Dan,” Isabella murmured as Em pulled her into a tight hug.
“It does. It’s a reminder that I love you both so very, very much. No matter how far away we are, I’m always going to love you, okay? Don’t ever, ever forget that. Pinkie promise me?” She held out her little fingers, laughing as they both enthusiastically took part in the ritual. She pulled them in for a final hug, pressing kisses to both of their heads.
“See you on winter break!” Isaac grinned as he spoke, Em putting a tight smile on her face. 
“We call it summer break, but I’ll see what we have to do then buddy.”
“Do you want a lift to the airport? I’ve got the rental?” Joe asked but Em shook her head.
“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got an Uber coming, I just want to get on the road. It’s hard enough to say goodbye to everyone I can’t drag it out much longer.”
“Fair. Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you too, Joe.” Her phone buzzed with the notification that her driver was there and she started towards the door. Dan still hadn’t come down and that was it. He didn’t love her. He didn’t feel anything like how she did because no matter what he’d said, he’d never make her leave. But she made him leave. He was gone.
She was almost at the door when an oh too familiar voice called across the lobby, running up to them. 
“I didn’t think you’d be leaving already.”
“My Uber’s outside, I need to leave.”
“Oh.” There was none of their usual hugs, none of the subtle kisses he pushed to the top of her head when they were separated. He didn’t even squeeze her fingers. It was like they were strangers. “Send a text when you get to London?”
“Yeah, sure.”
She turned to get her luggage into the car, shielding her face from everyone with her hair. The driver lifted it in and she was soon safely ensconced in the back seat, tears falling down her cheeks as she waved goodbye behind partially tinted glass.
“Was that Daniel Ricciardo?” The driver asked, Em forcing a smile.
“Yeah, I work with him.” It was true for another five hours at least.
“He seems like a good guy.”
“He’s one of the best.”
Tears streamed down Em’s cheeks the entire way to the airport, through the fancy check in area and security, and following her into her first class pod. She mostly ignored the staff apart from nodding at them, continuing to cry and wipe her eyes on tissues. The tears barely stopped until Dubai, only aided by Blake’s near constant texts as soon as her email sent.
She knew when she arrived in London that she had about twelve hours before the boys landed, Blake texting even while he was on his flights. She sent a I got back safely, receiving another flurry of responses.
Em, what’s this email about?
What’s going on?
Tell me you didn’t mean to send this
Is it the travel? Do you want to slow down? Why?
Ems we need you. How am I supposed to tell everyone you’re not coming with us anymore? Did you meet someone? Did something happen?
We’re about to land in Heathrow. Dan’s going to his place and looks miserable. I’ll be at your door in less than two hours.
When she got the final text Em grabbed the bags she’d hastily packed with clothes and the things she needed for the next eight days until the boys had left London for Imola. The address of the last minute airbnb was in her email, getting an Uber to it handy. She was long gone by the time Blake arrived, sitting in her temporary home for the next while and planning what she had to do. They’d leave England on the Wednesday, she had five days to empty her flat.
It started with an email to her landlord to give up the lease. Her family reasons excuse was accepted quickly, the landlord told she had to leave London and the apartment would be vacant from the end of the month. After that she had to start planning on where to go to.
There were too many memories in London. Nearly every street reminded her of Dan, of days walking around hand in hand to show him her London, not the tourist one he knew. The city she’d moved to at eighteen with a dream and a student loan and where she’d discovered who she was. Dan was everywhere in the city for her - memories of their first kiss in the pub she’d spent too many hours in, museums she’d dragged him to, streets he’d stolen a kiss from her at with a grin and a chuckle when they were waiting to cross the road. The cafes and greasy spoons she’d brought him to with the promise of not telling Michael. She couldn’t stay there, it was too much.
But everywhere she thought of had memories of him. Filthy weekends away when they were at home because of covid, eating out to help out and driving to Manchester or Glasgow to spend time together and have hotel sex. The midlands were completely out because of Silverstone, of memories of Enstone and the Renault factory, of Milton Keynes and his goodbye from Red Bull.
The only big city she could think of without a memory of Dan - with only one memory of her boys - was Liverpool. Which meant her parents. Which meant a conversation she never wanted to have. Calling her mother wasn’t like calling Grace. But she didn’t have Grace in her life anymore, so she had to do it.
“Emma, what country do you deign to call us from today?” Her mother answered the phone, disdain dripping from every word.
“Good morning, Mother. I’m in England. I was calling because I need to ask for a favour from you.”
“Yes?”
Em swallowed, teeing up words on her too thick tongue. “I had to leave my job, they didn’t have the funding to keep me on. I was wondering if I could move home for a few weeks while I’m applying for new jobs. I want to leave motorsports, there’s too much travelling and I want to settle down.” She hit every keyword that her mother had as she checked her bank account balance, spotting her final pay deposited in the account. It was more than healthy thanks to travelling so much for work and Dan covering that under work expenses. But she needed to be sensible, and renting somewhere without a job would be a mistake.
“You can. You will need to pay rent while you’re here.”
“Of course. Just let me know how much. It wont be for long, it’s just a few weeks. It’ll be like I won’t even be there, if I’m not interviewing I’ll be in my bedroom.”
“Fine. Let me know when you plan to arrive.” She sounded bored of the conversation already.
“I’ll be back April twenty fourth. I can send you the train details then.
“See you then.”
The difference between the call with her mother and a call with Grace just cut the wound in her chest even harder. Grace never let a call end without a million “I love you”s between them. She made sure that Em spoke to everyone in the family, and if Joe was out at the garage she took a message and told Em that he loved her. Instead her mother hadn’t even asked if Em wanted to leave a message for her father.
It felt so, so wrong.
The list of things she had to do before the boys left for Italy was beginning to shrink, but there was still so much to do. She ignored Blake and Michael’s texts, refusing to even open them. The chats were archived so the red dots didn’t irritate her. Dan didn’t send her anything at all, yet more proof that he meant everything he said in Melbourne. He was done with her. She didn’t realise that emotional pain could hurt this much. She’d never believed in soulmates, never believed in fate. She always thought that if a relationship ended she’d get through it. But now? This not quite a relationship over? It ached to her core.
Friday morning she had an appointment with a solicitor, walking in with a tear stained sheet of what she wanted to leave to different people. She’d always fought with Dan about being prepared if something happened to him, not wanting to know what he left her. She was one of the two people who could decide what medical treatment he got if he couldn’t consent. She’d cried when he told her that day in Spa when they got that tragic news what he wanted if he was in a crash like that. That he trusted her to not let him stay on machines. Some of her nightmares included his plaintive “I don’t want false hope” that made her ache.
She didn’t trust her parents to not do the same for her. They’d keep her hooked up to machines for as long as possible, they’d insist it was for “hope”. Em didn’t know what hope, but she knew them. They’d barely spoken for five years apart from occasional texts and birthday cards, they didn’t have the right to decide what happened to her.
It was a blustery Friday morning when she walked into that office and signed the papers to say Daniel Ricciardo, Blake Friend, and Michael Italiano were the people who decided what would happen if she couldn’t make her own medical decisions. She gave the lawyer the makeshift will that was handwritten and tearstained. It was simple - her cookbooks and exercise equipment to Michael because he was always trying to adapt her recipes. All but one piece of her furniture to Blake. Her CDs and DVDs to Dan, along with the coffee table he kept falling over. Her collection of Dan’s raceworn helmets to Isaac and Isabella. Dan, Grace, and Michelle were to divide her jewellery between them based on who wanted what. The rest of her belongings were to be sold and the money put in Isaac and Isabella’s college funds. It was too easy.
Even after everything that had happened, even after walking away, she trusted her boys more than she trusted anyone else in the world.
After all of that her final task was to organise her storage unit and movers. That was easiest of all if Em was honest. A call to a moving company who agreed to put everything in the unit without her there, and walking into a storage company. She signed a two year contract and paid the full rent then and there, surprising the man at the counter. Now she was able to disappear.
The texts kept coming from Blake and Michael. WhatsApp and iMessage, even a signal account she’d forgotten she had on her phone. Michael sent her instagram DMs so she deleted the app instead of trying to avoid reading them and appearing online. But finally it was Wednesday and she knew exactly when the boys were flying out of London City Airport. She’d organised the private flight for them, booked the plane and made sure the flight was as clean as possible. As soon as they’d take off her plan could start.
Walking back into her apartment felt too normal, just checking her post and finding it mostly full of letters from Blake. Get in touch, we’re worried, we miss you. Sentiments she knew he’d share but it would be easy for him to forget about her. The letters went out in recycling and she began to pack up her life.
The boxes were settled easily. Storage, donating, and Dan’s stuff. The ones for him filled quickly, clothes and accessories and things he’d left lying around the apartment that had become theirs instead of just hers. It took three boxes to get rid of the sense of him.
The storage boxes were easier, but the final thing she had to do at four that Sunday morning was decide what to do with her helmet wall. Ever since Monaco and his win, Dan had given her his race worn helmet for any new race design. She could name which race each of them was from, and in the middle was her Monza win one. McLaren had wanted it for the MTC but Dan refused to give it over, insisting it was his and he was keeping it. They got the trophy so he got the helmet. And then he put it in the middle of the IKEA shelves that they’d spent a weekend putting together and laughing.
Part of her - a large part if she was truly honest - wanted to donate them. Get rid of them for the clean break she insisted she needed. But she couldn’t. They were the good parts of the last four years, the best part of her life and the reminder that for years she got to love Daniel Ricciardo and travel the world with her best friends. Once she was settled somewhere she’d put them all back up to get her and explain to whoever asked that she was a part of Formula One for a short while, and it meant so much to her.
It took longer than she expected to get them wrapped carefully and boxed away. Two just about fit in one box, but they were light at least. When they were carefully labelled with the races, a tear falling from her eye when she wrote Monaco 2018 on a box in looping letters, she sat down to write notes to her boys. They deserved more than a resignation email and leaving without saying goodbye but if she saw them in person she wouldn’t walk away. She was barely strong enough to do that the first time. Em couldn’t do it again.
Dan’s took the longest. It started with anger. How could you make me love you when you didn’t love me back scrawled angrily, tears staining the lined pages as she wrote everything. But she couldn’t give it to him how she’d written it. She couldn’t deliberately hurt him. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that she’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t love her back the way she wanted him to love her. It was her fifth draft, still tear stained, that was the one she was giving him.
Danny,
I’m sorry I didn’t say this in person but I couldn’t do it. We both know that things between us haven’t been working for a while. It’s nobody’s fault. I guess we just wanted different things. It happens to us all. But we’re both done and writing this is easier than another long conversation and another fight.
Go be happy. I’ll cheer you on from wherever I end up, no matter what. You’ve changed so many lives, mine included. Thank you for the amazing years and experiences. You let me do things that so few people ever get to do and I can’t thank you enough for that.
Emma
Michael and Blake’s were harder and easier. She only needed one attempt at them, trying to wipe the tears before they fell.
Blakey,
I’m sorry for leaving like this. I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch, but I made sure that everything logistically is booked until the summer break. Just get him where he needs to be on time, you were always better at that than me.
I love you. You’re my big brother and i wasn’t going to make you choose between me and Dan, that was never going to be fair. I’ll be happy and I want you to be happy too. Find a girl and settle down or bring her around the world. I’m rooting for you the entire time.
Will you make sure everyone in the paddock knows I love them? Tell Chloe and Scotty to get their wedding planned. Chloe will be the most beautiful bride and I’m so sorry I won’t get to see her in person. Scotty will look ok, I guess.
Thank you for everything.
Love,
Ems
PS - the extra key is for my storage unit. A1 Storage in Wimbledon. Figured you’d be a good person to have it.
She folded Blake’s letter into an envelope and labelled it before writing the last one. Somehow this was the hardest, having to ask Michael to do what she couldn’t.
Mike,
I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for asking you to pass a message on but I know you will. I love you so much. You made lockdown bearable even when I was being a bitch, and you made me actually enjoy exercising you cruel man.
Tell everyone that I love them and I’m sorry? You let me know exactly what a family is and how I deserve to be loved and that’s something I can never thank you enough for. Ever. I can’t make people decide between me and Dan. He wins every time and that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’s easier if I just leave.
Tell Grace and Joe I love them and I will forever be grateful for their love and support. Let Michelle know that she’s the best big sister ever. Please make sure that Isaac and Isabella know that I love them no matter what. It’s not their fault I left and I will always love them. Whoever gets to be their auntie is the luckiest person in the world and I wish it got to be me.
Tell all your family I love them, and ti voglio bene to Nadia and your Nana. I love you all so much, and I’m cheering you all on from wherever I end up.
Love,
Em
When the movers came she handed them the key to the storage unit, letting them know what to do. Everything was out of the apartment in a few moments and Em took a last look around her almost empty apartment. The memories were suffocating. Dan tripping over the coffee table, the London lockdown when they got back from Australia and they lied to Michael about what the yoga mat’s primary purpose was. The way Dan danced with her in the dark kitchen, distracting her from finding food for them in the fridge and getting them to sway in the silence. The kisses and living together like he loved her the same way she loved him.
He’d been blowing up her voicemail since Wednesday and she deleted them I listened to. The first “Emmy” hurt her too much, so she decided to practice self preservation for once. As soon as her voicemail said “you have an unlistened to voicemail from Dan” it was deleted. The same with Blake and Michael. She couldn’t do it.
Finally it was time to leave, and she carried Dan’s boxes one at a time into Blake’s apartment. The three were stacked one atop the other, the letters on top of them. Em stared at her thumb, at the moon ring that had been there since Dan bought it for her calling her his moon on dark nights. She couldn’t bear to take off the three necklace hanging on her chest, but this she had to leave behind. She wasn’t his moon, and he was too bright to be her sun.
She slipped it off and rubbed her finger against the warm gold, pushing a kiss to it before stepping back. The final thing she needed to do was leave the envelope with her medical power papers and will on Blake’s coffee table before she locked the front door and slipped his keys in his post box. It was done. She was gone.
The tube to Euston was quicker than expected and she joined the trek to the Liverpool train, settling into her seat a few minutes before they were due to pull out. Her phone lit up with a notification that the race was about to start, illuminating the photo from lockdown of her and Dan holding Isaac and Isabella. They looked like a family. Em unlocked her phone and pushed her thumb firmly down on the F1 app to delete it. A clean break.
The train pulled off exactly at two, her mind echoing Crofty’s “lights out and away we go”. Dan was in the car and racing and all she wanted was a good points finish for him. But she couldn’t check. She couldn’t let herself find out what he was doing.
Her tears fell harder as the train pulled into Milton Keynes, the memories of the last time she’d done this train journey as Dan’s plus one. His leaving Red Bull party, staying in a hotel with him the week before they flew to Perth for Christmas. It was the only time she’d gotten to visit the impressive Red Bull factory. Meeting Max properly, Christian cornering her with his wife - and keeping her cool around Geri fucking Halliwell - to ask if she could convince Dan to come back. Getting whisked away from Helmut quickly when he tried to speak to her, meeting the mechanics and team that she’d seen at several races properly for once. Yet another place she could never visit again because all she’d think about was Dan.
Em made herself stop crying shortly after, pushing a cold bottle of water to her eyes. She couldn’t be red eyed or puffy seeing her parents. It was bad enough returning with her tail between her legs. She didn’t know if she’d survive the I told you so.
*
When Dan got out of the car in Imola he knew what he had to do. His first stop was being weighed and getting his slip, Mike pushing one of those AG1 drinks into his hand to down to get electrolytes and water back into him. After that it was media rounds, apologising to Carlos, and doing media. Once the debrief was finished it was London. He needed to get to Emmy. For the second time he’d gotten on a plane when he should have been with her and he needed to apologise. Needed to make things right.
“The jet will be ready when we finish? I need to get back to London tonight.” Michael handed him a McLaren branded shirt and pair of skinny jeans to put on once he was out of the shower.
“It’ll be ready. Mate, you need to know that she might not want—“
“She’ll see me. It’s Em. She’s my Emmy. She’s going to see me and I’m going to tell her everything. I can’t do this without her. I can’t. I dunno how I did it before.”
“Ok. Go shower and head out.”
The debrief was painful. Lando on the fucking podium, Dan last. They wrote off his technical debrief after the collision. It was clear Dan couldn’t have done anything, and the rest of his race was nothing to write home about. He should have just retired. It was shit and he just had to listen to how Lando had a flawless race and was extracting the most out of the tractor McLaren had built. He had to wait until it was over, half listening and taking notes while stewing.
All he could think about was Emmy. He hadn’t reached out because he thought she needed space, wanted time. He’d had the fucking ring in his pocket in the hotel room and then they’d fought and he couldn’t exactly get on one knee and ask her to marry him after that. But now she was gone and she’d been gone for weeks and he didn’t know. He needed her to be ok. He needed to go home and see her on the couch and beg for her forgiveness because he was hers. His apartment was so fucking lonely, driving in and out of the factory without seeing her. Without going to sleep curled up beside her and waking up with the fairy lights glowing as she read whatever dog eared book she was rereading that month.
The voicemails were being listened to. Her inbox went from full to empty and he kept texting, determined to get through to her. Needing her to talk to him. To say anything at all. People kept asking where she was, he laughed it off and gave the excuse of family stuff. Natalie had nodded and said she hoped Em would be back soon. Chloe had looked at him oddly when she heard the excuse but he shrugged and moved on. The elder Stroll could be terrifying and he didn’t want to get on her bad side. Not even Scotty could save him from that.
There was nothing he could do but wait to be freed. The moment they were able to break - after Dan apologised to the mechanics for the job they’d have to do on the car - he was on his way to the driver room. Blake and Michael were already there with bags packed and ready to go.
It was a two hour flight to London and they landed at nine. After forcing their way through traffic in a black cab it was after nine thirty by the time they arrived at Blake and Em’s building. Dan stepped out of the car and grabbed his bags, heading straight upstairs to the two identical doors. He didn’t realise when it became more normal to stand in front of Em’s door than Blakes, but it had years before. He knocked twice to no response.
“Em? I’ve got my key, I’m coming in.”
The lock turned easily with the familiar key and Dan set his bags down to flick the light switch. What he saw terrified him.
The room was empty. The couch that killed his back, the coffee table his shins hated, gone. The bookshelves and the kitchen table they’d spent a lockdown day building, gone. Her helmet collection was missing. Em had once told him that if the building went on fire she would save whichever helmets she could. If they were gone, she was gone.
He ran to her bedroom but everything was missing. The fairy lights they’d taped up with double sided tape. Her bed. The throw cushions he laughed about. Even the case at the bottom of her wardrobe with the lingerie he’d bought her was gone. Her pink boots weren't there. It was like nobody had lived there for years. He couldn’t even smell her perfume in the air.
“Dan?” He hadn’t realised tears were streaming down his face when he turned to see his best mates standing in the doorway. “Mate, you need to see this.”
He followed them back to Blakes, pausing to lock Emmy’s front door. She had to come back. The idea that she wouldn’t come back was impossible.
Until he saw the boxes.
Three of them, neatly stacked almost up to Blake’s chest. There were three envelopes on them, and a glint of gold on top of one. He nearly ran to it, ignoring the post race soreness going through his body to see the ring he’d given her sitting on top of the one neatly labelled Daniel.
She’d used his first name. Emmy never used his first name unless something was wrong. He’d fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to open it.
Instead he held the ring firmly in his palm, the metal cold against his hand. She was there. She had been there and now she was gone and he didn’t know what to do. But instead he followed what Blake and Michael had done and opened his letter.
It was how impersonal it was that killed him. Em was done. She’d be fine. Thanking him for bringing her around the world and letting her work with him. She didn’t want another fight and she thought he was done with her.
She didn’t love him like he loved her and for a brief moment that made him want to die. The moments they’d shared, the times they’d said they loved each other. The times he’d held her and traced I love you down her back or against her clit when he was eating her out, desperate for her to know but too afraid to say it. The 'y’know, right?'. Everything from the last nearly four years. None of it had ever mattered because she wouldn’t have married him. He had her ring in his fucking ever present backpack and thank God he hadn’t tried to propose because she’d have said no and he’d have been humiliated.
“I guess you were right. Buying the ring was a mistake.”
His choked voice broke the silence, but it was Michael who got the next sentence in, cutting off Blake’s question about the ring.
“Mate, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“She doesn’t love me like I love her. I was wrong. I just got my heart broken so please, don’t rub it in right now?”
“Did you read any of what she wrote?”
“Yeah. She’s done. She thanked me for letting her travel with us. Like she didn’t earn her place. She signed it Emma. I was wrong, ok? I was wrong and I can’t take you rubbing it the fuck in when I think Im gonna break.”
“What happened? Because the two of you were fine in Bahrain, and then after Saudi she disappeared and skipped Perth, and she was barely in Melbourne. What happened with you?” Blake was the one who asked, Dan flopping on the couch beside him. He held out his much shorter letter for them to read.
“Things were weird when we got back after Christmas. Then we had covid and got through it. And Saudi fucking happened. With everything going on and keeping her safe I didn’t see her till after the race and she was already leaving. And in Melbourne we… We had a fight.” The memories of what he’d said were circling again, the anger between them, Em telling him to leave again. Him walking away.
“We thought that much. You didn’t even hug her goodbye.”
“She told me to leave!”
“In self preservation.” Michael’s voice was low and Dan was almost afraid of his best friend. “She said she didn’t want to make us choose between you and her, that she knew we’d pick you. So she left. I have to tell your fucking family she’s gone, by the way. She asked me to. So you’re going to tell me everything that’s happened between the two of you and we’re going to fix this. What the fuck did you do?”
He wanted to be annoyed that he was being blamed but he couldn’t blame the boys. So he let everything out.
He told them about wanting to kiss her in Blake’s that first night, of Monaco and their agreement that it was over once she left Monaco. Coffee and Silverstone and her birthday drinks. Spa and I love you when they were faced with the reality of what could happen with his job again. Em begging him to never leave her behind, that no matter what he wouldn’t leave her alone. Her dick of an ex who’d destroyed her self-esteem and meant she lost her friends. The meaning of 'Y’know, right?', the phrase that had been their mantra since 2019. That he hadn’t slept with anyone else since he’d met her because he just knew she was supposed to be his. That he’d bought the ring when they spent Christmas 2020 together but was just waiting for the right moment. And then in Saudi she’d been sobbing and he sent her away. He made Blake take her away from him. From them. He’d broken his fucking promise and again in Australia he walked away when he should have stayed in that room.
She’d picked the fight. She’d picked it so she’d be left alone and leave and the realisation of how well she fucking knew him hurt so much. She knew him like the palm of her hand and for a minute he forgot about it.
“Let me get this straight. You’ve known just how shit her family is for longer than any of us, and I’m the only one who’s actually met them. She asked for exactly one thing from you which was don’t leave her alone. And in Saudi, one of the countries she’s most scared of being away from us for any length of time, you made her go back to the hotel and stay there on her own. She begged you to stay and was sobbing and you left her to cry when she asked you to stay? I could fucking punch you right now.” He nodded at Michael’s words, shame filling every cell in his body.
“You made us leave her alone.” Blake spoke and Dan thought he was going to be sick. “In Melbourne. The morning of the race. 'Em’s going with my parents. She wants family time.' She didn’t know she was going with them, did she? Why?”
“She… I… No. We weren’t ok. I didn’t know if I could be in the car with her. Not after that night.”
“What happened?”
“I… Fuck. She kept the door between our rooms locked that whole week. But Saturday night it wasn’t locked. I had a habit of just trying it, just in case. It was open and I went in. I just lay down on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep for a while before falling asleep. I left before she woke up. She didn’t know, she was asleep the whole time.”
“You think our Ems was asleep for a full night before a fucking race? Are you an idiot? Did you get brain damage in that crash today? She doesn’t fucking sleep! You slept in the same bed as her for four fucking years and you don't know that? She’s into me for melatonin every damn night because she can’t sleep worrying about you. She was awake that entire night and you left her without saying a goddamn word and then you abandoned her again. Again, Dan. Don’t tell me you did something stupid and cheated on her like her fucking ex.”
“I never cheated. I haven’t touched another woman.” The thought made him sick. “I’m not that asshole. You know I’m not.”
“I don’t mean to be funny Dan. She lived beside me for nearly five years. She’s my friend. And now her apartment is for rent, your shit is here, and she’s told us all goodbye and to give messages to the people she loves. So you might not have cheated on her, but you broke her. It took us four years to help Em feel like herself again and put her pieces back together and you broke her.” Blake was opening another envelope mixed in with the post on his coffee table that Em had left in as he spoke, eyes widening slightly. Before he could get the words out Michael had to.
“You’re telling your family, by the way.” His voice was solid, a way Dan had never heard before. “She asked me to tell them but I can’t. I can’t break those kids hearts and tell them their auntie Emmy loves them forever but she can’t see them again. I can’t tell your sister that she’s lost a sister, and I can’t tell your parents that you ran off the woman they want you to marry. That the woman your mum teaches family recipes to had to leave, because you fucked up that much. You know she’s their second daughter, right? Even before whatever the fuck you’ve been doing started they adored her. From Monaco. Em’s lost the only decent mother she’s ever had because of you. She didn’t want to make us choose but if she was here right now I’d choose her over you any day.”
“If you think she doesn’t love you, read this.” Blake held out a package of papers, Dan skimming them.
Everyone in his line of work was familiar with leaving a will behind. The fucking academies basically demanded it at this point. He’d put Emmy on his own medical power of attorney form after Spa, told her what he was leaving her when she was ready for that conversation after Roman nearly died in Bahrain. 
But Emma wasn't racing cars every weekend, so she didn't need the papers she signed. She didn't need to leave a will behind, but his name was there to make decisions for Em. She’d left him specific things. The cold fear snaked up his spine, tightening around his lungs and making it hard to breathe.
“She wouldn’t. She won’t do anything stupid. It’s Em, she wouldn’t.” The words came out as a rush but certain. She wouldn’t hurt herself. God, he couldn’t live with himself if she did.
“It’s probably just a precaution. But Jesus Christ, Dan. She’s gone. We have no idea where she is, we don’t even know what country she’s in. We don’t know what kind of head start she has and with the amount of frequent flier miles she has she could be anywhere. We can probably cross off here and Australia, but that doesn’t take away much.” 
“I need to leave.” Dan turned to see Michael pick up his bag. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk. I’ll email you workout plans. She’s my fucking sister, Dan. She’s my little sister and I trusted you knew what you were doing with her. She said goodbye to me and I didn’t even know. You… I can’t look at you right now. I’m this close to quitting too because I don’t know you anymore. The Dan I grew up with? He would have said something. He wouldn’t make the woman he kept saying he was going to make his wife run away. He wouldn’t make her feel unloved. Just work out what you’re going to do. I’ll be on the plane to Miami but I don’t know if I’ll see you before then.” Dan watched as his oldest friend, the man he’d known since primary school, who’d supported him through thick and thin, walked out of the apartment into the London night.
“She’s gone. She’s really gone and she’s not coming back. I… I have to find her, Blake. I can’t do this without her.”
“You need to work out what you’re doing. You need to tell your family she’s gone. You need to do your job. We’re all hurting right now and yeah your heart is breaking. But its my job to do tough love and tell you that you need to work first and then think about her.” He stared at Blake in shock. “I’m pissed. But work first. Em somehow managed to take everything off my plate when she was leaving, because she didn’t want to make things hard on me. Go home, Dan. I have to call Chloe Stroll and tell her Em’s not coming back.”
“Not yet. Please. Let me f—“
“I’m telling her. You can hide it from the media, from your family, whatever. Chloe is Em’s best friend outside us. Do you really think she hasn’t tried calling Em already? Really?” Dan nodded once. “Go home. Your place, not the empty apartment next door you called home. Go home and get your shit together. Em would kill you if you fucked up a race over her.”
Dan got an Uber on his phone, taking his bags downstairs along with his letter from Em. He slipped the moon ring onto his little finger, settling it just above the sun. He needed her back. He just didn’t know how to find her.
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justagalwhowrites · 3 months
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Halcyon - Ch. 5: I've Never Been a Bad Influence a Day in My Life
You and Joel get closer as you put together your lists. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 4, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
Warnings: Masturbation, fantasy about P in V sex. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI
Length: 5K
AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
October, 2022
“Why can’t I add to your list?” You pouted a little, can of hard seltzer in your hand as your float drifted to the middle of Joel’s pool. 
“Because you’re gonna just use that power for evil, not good,” Joel replied. 
“Would not!” You shoved off the side of the pool with your foot, floating back toward the middle of the water. 
“Am I allowed to put shit on your list?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the pool, his feet in the water and a beer in his hand. 
You scoffed. 
“Absolutely not.” 
“Well, there you go,” he shrugged. “Goes both ways.” 
“You’d be a dick about it!” You kicked the water in his direction but the spray of it fell short and you watched him try to not laugh. “You’d put things on there like ‘buy Joel beer for the rest of his life’ or ‘speak in a bad British accent for a week…’”
“Can you do a good British accent?” He asked, brows raised. 
“That is beside the point.” 
“What are you gonna add to my list, hm?” There was a teasing edge in his voice as he took a sip of beer. “Get a new wardrobe? Get Sarah a dog?” 
“OK, both of those are good additions,” you said, defensive. “But no, not what I was thinking.” 
“Then what, Goldie?” 
“Put in a hot tub,” you said, chin raised. 
He barked a laugh. 
“A hot tub?” 
“A hot tub,” you nodded. “How can I come over to your house and float in the water if it’s too cold to go in the pool? Which it will be in like… a few weeks. You need a hot tub.” 
“It’s already too cold,” he said. “That water’s below 70 degrees, couldn’t pay me to get in there now. Lucky I’m in this far as it is.” 
“See?” You said. “Hot tub.” 
“You’re ridiculous,” he shook his head. 
“If your list is shitty can I add to it?” 
“If you actually think my list is shitty we can discuss it,” he said. Your float drifted close to him and you were afraid, for a moment, that he was going to splash you. Instead, he just pushed the edge of it with his foot, sending you drifting back toward the middle of the water. “Still down to compare tomorrow night?” 
“Think so,” you said, taking a sip of your seltzer. “As long as you don’t mock me relentlessly for it.” 
“When do I not mock you relentlessly?” 
“Excellent point,” you said. “I should get better friends.” 
“Probably so.” 
“At least now you come with Sarah,” you sighed dramatically. “So I guess I’ll keep bugging you…” 
“God, you two are gonna kill me,” he said, trying to look serious but a hint of a smile on his lips. “Worst idea I ever had, lettin’ you two get to know each other…” 
You giggled a little at that. You and Sarah had become thick as thieves since you and Joel had reconnected now two weeks ago.
It was hard to believe that he’d only been back in your life less than a month. But then, it was hard to believe he’d ever been out of your life at all. You’d only gone a few days without seeing him since that night at the bar and, on those days, the two of you were almost constantly texting. It was the most natural thing in the world, having your life fall into step alongside Joel’s. It reminded you so much of high school even though you were in your 30s now, your lives moving in parallel until they collided at the end of the day and you came over for dinner or went and cheered on Sarah at her soccer game or Joel showed up at your door with beer. Even after all this time, he just knew you and you just knew him. You could read his posture as easily as a book, instantly knowing the kind of day he had by the way he opened the door or flopped on your couch. He seemed to be able to peer inside your mind on command, just a raised eyebrow or a sigh telling him everything he needed to know about how you were feeling and how to make it better. 
There was one day where you hadn’t intended to see him at all but it’d turned shitty and he just somehow picked up on it from the tone of your texts. New paperwork had come over from Gale’s attorney and you resigned yourself to spending the evening picking over the bones of your marriage with a bottle of wine and a wilted salad - because you definitely didn’t have the emotional energy to go by the grocery store - when Joel texted. It was a meme that you responded to with just an lol before going back to the paperwork. He FaceTimed just 30 seconds later and you frowned, answering it. 
“Hi?” You said brows raised. 
He nodded sagely. 
“What I thought,” he said. “You look like shit.” 
“Gee thanks.” 
He rolled his eyes. 
“For you you look like shit. What’s wrong.” 
You narrowed your eyes and he laughed. 
“What?” He asked
“How can you just tell?” You replied. “It’s weird.” 
“Come over,” he said instead of answering. He flipped his camera around and Sarah made a face, sticking her tongue out, her hair in two springy buns on the top of her head. 
You frowned. 
“Where are you?”
He turned the camera back around.
“Picking up pizza,” he said. “I’ll grab an extra cheese bread, come over.” 
“I’ve been drinking…” 
“We’ll pick you up,” he said. “Come over.” 
“Please?” Sarah jumped to try to get in the frame and Joel laughed, tilting the camera so she was visible. “It’ll be fun! OH! Spend the night! Come sleep over again, please?” 
Joel tilted the camera so he was back in the frame. 
“You really wanna disappoint my kid?” He asked. “C’mon.” 
“Yeah!” Sarah said, bouncing just out of frame again, just a bit of her bun appearing in the bottom corner as she jumped. “Don’t let down the kid, that’s just shitty.” 
“Hey,” Joel said but you could tell he was trying not to smile. She stopped bouncing. “Language.” 
“Sorry.” 
He turned his attention back to you. 
“Be there in 10,” he said. “Can’t let you just sit and wallow. Need pizza for that.” 
He and Sarah picked you up and Sarah insisted on cranking Taylor Swift in the car, signing Look What You Made Me Do into her water bottle in the back seat while you balanced warm pizza boxes on your lap, trying not to laugh when you and Joel exchanged glances at red lights. 
At dinner, you pulled a pepperoni off your slice of pizza and stuck it on the end of your nose and held very serious eye contact with Joel and Sarah as they spoke, nodding along carefully so as to not disturb the topping dangling from your face. Sarah tried very hard not to laugh and did a pretty good job of it until you made a face at her from across the table when Joel’s back was turned and she cackled, laughing so hard she almost knocked over her soda can.
“You bein’ a bad influence on my kid?” He asked when he handed you the paper towel you’d requested.
“Joel,” you said, deathly serious, pepperoni slice still on the tip of your nose. “I’ve never been a bad influence a day in my life.” 
 After dinner, as Joel did the dishes, you sat on the couch with Sarah and listened as she told you about one of her friends at school who hadn’t been as kind lately. You nodded along until Sarah seemed to run out of steam, slumping down against the cushion with a slightly tired look on her face. 
“Well,” you said. “Have you told her that you’ve been feeling hurt by how she’s been treating you lately?” 
She scrunched her face a little. 
“No,” she said. “But I thought that’d be pretty obvious…” 
You shrugged. 
“Sometimes it’s not. She may not even know she’s doing it. If I were you, I’d tell her that you’ve been feeling hurt and ask if she’s doing OK because it sounds like this is a change for her. If she’s hurting you that might be because her feelings are getting hurt somewhere else.” 
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she nodded a little. “That’s a good idea.”
“I do have those occasionally,” you said and she smiled a little at you. 
The three of you watched part of a movie before Sarah went to get ready for bed and you eavesdropped from the living room as Joel read to her in her room, the door opened just enough to hear when his voice changed with the characters. 
“Peeta sighs,” Joel said like Joel before his voice shifted to something that sounded more boyish but still strong and deep, almost what you remembered from when you first met him. You smiled. “'Well, there is this one girl. I’ve had a crush on her ever since I can remember. But I’m pretty sure she didn’t know I was alive until the reaping…’”
Joel flopped next to you on the couch when he was done and you held out your glass of wine. He took it, taking a big sip before handing it back. 
“You look tired,” you said, holding the glass. 
He shrugged. 
“No days off from this whole dad thing. Don’t really want a day off but still… get tired after a bit.” He looked over at you and smiled a little. “Thanks for talking with her. Think she needs someone like you around.” 
“Oh, someone who managed to tank her relationship and got stuck starting over in her 30s?” You asked. “That kind of someone?” 
He rolled his eyes. 
“A woman…” 
“Oh, is that all?”
He glared at you. 
“A woman,” he said again. “But one who’s lived some life, knows how to navigate the hard shit. One who’s willing to listen to her problems. She’s got me and Tommy for that but can’t help but feel like I’ve let her down by not giving her some kind of… I don’t fuckin’ know, feminine influence.” 
“Ahh yes, the mysterious feminine,” you nodded sagely. Joel picked up a pillow and smacked you in the stomach with it, making you laugh as you caught it and held it to yourself. “Joel, you’re doing great with her.” 
“Yeah?” He asked, serious now. 
“Yeah,” you said, serious, too. “You really are. She’s so lucky to have you, Joel. You have no idea.” 
“I’m lucky to have her,” he said, looking toward Sarah’s room for a moment before turning back to you. “So, you have the kind of bad day that you want to talk about it or the kind of bad day that you want to get fucked up about it?” 
“The latter.” 
“Then chug that wine,” he said, shoving himself off the couch. “And maybe change into your pajamas, I’m getting the tequila.” 
You swapped numbers with Sarah at breakfast the next day. You and Joel were both hung over and trying to pretend like you hadn’t been up until 2:30 on a work night getting hammered until you passed out in a heap on his couch only to be roused by a groggy Sarah at 7 in the morning. 
She’d taken to texting you then, sometimes just silly selfies, sometimes memes you didn’t really get, sometimes with questions about friends at school. You were pretty sure your heart melted the first time she called you Aunt Goldie, a sense of belonging wrapping around you that you’d never really known before. 
“We still on for tomorrow?” Joel asked, eyes following the slow, lazy path your float was making across his pool. “Make a night out of this whole project, kick things off right.” 
“Hell yeah,” you said, drifting back to Joel. He didn’t shove you back out to the water this time. “Did I tell you I’m seeing Anna for lunch? I cannot just go into that blind, I’ll need an out…” 
“She’s doin’ that well, huh?” Joel asked. 
“I don’t know,” you sighed. “She’s supposedly sticking with her program but… I feel like I should be a better sister and try to check in more but then it just feels like babysitting and that doesn’t seem right, either.” 
“At a certain point, she’s gotta do it on her own,” Joel said. “You’re her sister, not her mom.” 
“I know,” you nodded. “But I feel like I should have checked in on her more after our mom died. She was a teenager and I just left her alone…” 
“You were 20 years old,” Joel said gently. “Not like you were equipped for that shit.” 
You shrugged and took another drink. 
“Hey,” he said, nudging your float gently, just enough to make you look up at him. “Don’t be hard on yourself for that. You were handed a shit situation and you did what you could with it. Trust me, I know.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Ended up in a similar boat with Tommy. Spent years - literal years - bailing his ass out of jail and begging him to get his shit together. Eventually he did a stint in the army and got it figured out. At least a bit. She’ll get there. But it’s not your job to get her there.” 
“Yeah,” you sighed. “You’re probably right.” 
“Who, me?” He asked, mocking. “Right? Never thought I’d see the day…” 
“Shove it,” you splashed at him, the water dripping down his face and soaking his t-shirt. You snorted as you watched him fight the urge to laugh. 
“Gonna pay for that,” he said, setting his beer down on the side of the pool and grabbing your float as you tried to paddle away. 
“No!” You shrieked and laughed, shoving your seltzer into the cupholder as more of you ended up in the cold pool water than you really wanted in your rush to escape. 
“You started it!” Joel was leaning precariously over the water now, trying to splash you again while keeping you from retreating. “Shoulda just kept those little hands to yourself…” 
“They’re not little!” 
He yanked your float back toward the side of the pool and nodded down at one of your hands.
“Freakishly small…” 
“Yours are just freakishly big you mutant!” You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and watched as he realized a second too late what was about to happen. 
“Oh shit,” his eyes went wide and you laughed in victory before you pulled him all the way into the pool, jeans and all. He brought you down as he went, the float capsizing and sending you and your mostly empty drink can into the cold water with a sharp yelp. 
You went under, the chlorine stinging your eyes as you twisted and tried to right yourself below the water. You and Joel surfaced at the same time, not even a foot apart and gasping for breath, laughing as you tried to brush your soaked hair back from your face. 
“It’s so cold!” You shivered and splashed at him before crossing your arms tightly over yourself. 
“Why are you complainin’ to me?” He shivered back. “You’re the one who wanted to be in the damn pool…” 
“In the floatie!” You said. “I was mostly dry until you got involved!” 
“Got justice you mean,” he said, reaching for your can and pulling it out of the water, dumping it out before setting it on the side of the pool. “You’re the one who put us in here…” 
“You’re the one who was being mean,” you said, reaching out for him and pressing your cold fingers to his chest, the heat of him still apparent even in the water. You sighed contentedly. “That’s better…” 
“Jesus, what are you, ice?” He griped, tugging you against him with a little yelp. “Gonna fuckin’ freeze to death if you’re not careful… ridiculous…” 
You giggled once but pressed yourself closer to him, soaking up his heat and pressing your cold fingers to his exposed skin. 
“OK, you could be less mean about it,” he said, pulling back from you just enough to scowl down at you. “Frozen fuckin’ hands…” 
You laughed and realized, very suddenly, how close you were to him. You weren’t sure the last time you’d been quite this close to him, the last time you could feel every line of him through his clothes, the last time his mouth had been that close to your own. Your heart sped up. His eyes searched yours and you could feel his breath on your skin and suddenly, you weren’t close enough to him. Not close enough at all. 
“Dad?” Sarah’s groggy voice called from the sliding glass door, making you jump, both of your heads turning toward her. Her face was scrunched and a curl had broken free of its braid, sticking straight out from the side of her head. “Is everything OK?” 
“Course it is, baby girl,” Joel frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be? What are you doin’ out of bed?”  
“You’re being loud,” she groaned. “You’re never loud.”  
“M’sorry kiddo,” Joel said, separating from you and working his way to the edge of the pool, pulling himself out of the water and dripping on the stone edge. “Gimme just a second to get Goldie out of the water before she freezes to death and dry her off, I’ll come tuck you in again in just a minute…” 
“Can I get another chapter?” She said it fast, the words all strung together, her eyes big. “Please? They just got into the arena and…” 
“We’ll see,” he said. “But only because it’s Friday and you’re sleeping over at Emma’s tomorrow so you won’t get one then. Inside, go on.” 
He watched her go and then went to the lounge chair at the side of the pool, getting the only towel he’d brought outside and holding it away from his body, spread open wide. 
“Hurry up, before I change my mind,” he said. 
“Such a gentleman,” you said, trying not to let your teeth chatter and trying to shove the ache that was still growing all hollow and wanting inside you down deep. You got out of the water and he wrapped you tightly in the towel, his arms going tightly around you. 
“Not really,” he said, pulling you back against his broad chest and squeezing you so the water from him soaked into the towel before he shook his shaggy curls over you so drops of water got all over your face as you laughed. “There, cured you of THAT notion…” 
“Thanks so much,” you said wryly as he released you. You turned to face him as he ran his fingers through his soaked hair and his shirt pulled up just enough that you caught a glimpse of the smooth flesh around his hips and you found yourself drifting closer to him again before you stopped yourself. Joel put his arms down and seemed to notice exactly where you were, just looking at you for a moment before he cleared his throat awkwardly. 
“I should go tuck Sarah back in,” he said. “Get into something dry so I don’t get her all soaked…” 
“Right,” you said, stepping back from him. “Sorry we woke your kid up because you just couldn’t leave well enough alone…” 
“I will throw your ass back in that pool,” he said, going to open the door for you. “Don’t try me.” 
“Oh don’t worry Miller,” you teased. “I know just what you’re capable of.” 
He started toward the stairs, a little trail of water in his wake as he went, and you watched the pull of the wet fabric of his shirt over his shoulders. You swallowed, hard.
“I’m just going to head out,” you said and he stopped, turning to frown at you. 
“You sure?” 
“Yeah,” you said. “Really should go wash this chlorine out of my hair. But see you tomorrow?” 
“With the list?” Joel asked. 
“With the list,” you answered. 
“Lookin’ forward to it,” he said, turning to go up the stairs again before looking back over his shoulder. “Drive safe, Goldie.” 
He didn’t wait for a response, just heading for his room. 
Your heart was still racing. 
You left the towel draped over the banister and just pulled on the oversized t-shirt you’d put in your bag before going to your car. 
You tried not to think about Joel as you drove home. 
It didn’t do you any good to think about him that way. It was Joel. He didn’t see you that way, drifting in that direction was what had ruined things so many years before. You’d just gotten him back, things were so good again, you felt like you belonged again, you couldn’t fuck that up, not because you’d never been able to move past a school girl crush. 
But you wanted to kiss him. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him. 
You tried not to think about kissing him. You tried not to think about what happened after the last time you’d kissed him. How quickly everything had dissolved, how you’d gone from picturing a future with Joel - a different one than you’d held in your mind outside of fantasy before - to running as far and as fast as you could in a matter of hours. 
It’s Goldie, he’d said then. It’s the worst thing that could happen, I wish it was anybody else…
You flinched at the memory, shoving it away. No, you didn’t think about that, not when you could help it. Just like you didn’t think about the way Joel’s lips felt against your skin, how his fingers - warm and think - had traced over you, how he made you feel so clearly seen and adored in a way that no one else had before, in a way your husband had never really seemed to. How he still made you feel that way. 
“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself as you parked, dropping your head to your steering wheel with a groan before you went in your house, closing your car door with a little too much force. 
You showered and forced yourself to keep your hands away from your aching slit. You were not going to fuck yourself in your bathroom to the idea of sleeping with your best friend. You weren’t. You weren’t a teenager anymore and you weren’t going to act like one. You were better than this.
Your hair was still damp when you gave up on getting any writing or grading done and went to bed, an almost frustrating, throbbing ache between your thighs. You stared at the ceiling in the dark for a while before you all but threw the covers off and rifled through your nightstand for the discreet little pink vibrator you’d bought years ago when you’d first figured out that, while your husband had many talents, making you come wasn’t one of them. 
You went to your usual fallback for porn but didn’t find anything that was really working for you, the ache of longing just getting worse as you gently toyed with your clit under the covers in the dark. Your cunt was slick, your wetness seeping down to your nightie and coating your fingers. It felt like forever that you’d been touching yourself and getting nowhere when the batteries on your vibrator died and you whimpered, kicking your legs down into your mattress in frustration. 
“Goddammit,” you moaned into your pillow, tossing your phone and vibrator aside, the ache in you worse than you’d ever really remembered it being before. There was no way you were going to be able to sleep like this, your whole body drawn tight and needy. You fumbled in your drawer for the charging cable and plugged the vibrator in before sighing and staring up at the ceiling again. 
Your thoughts drifted to Joel again. You couldn’t help it, he’d felt so good against you in the pool. He knew you so well, even after all this time. He kept your favorite snacks at his house and draped a blanket over you when you started getting cold when watching a movie. He was so funny and so handsome it hurt to look at him and he’d felt so fucking good.
Your fingers slipped between your legs again without really thinking about it, brushing against your swollen, sensitive clit. You resisted it for a moment, the idea of falling into the fantasy of you with Joel, but the need drawing everything inside you all tight and molten won. 
It swallowed you quickly once you gave in. 
The memory of him was there at the fore so fast, the way his lips had felt on you so many years ago. How you thought they’d feel against you now. His hands ranged over you, around your waist, down to your hips, his fingers twisting and knotting in the fabric there as he bunched it up to hold you firmer, reach you better. You moaned and rocked into your hand, sliding lower, your palm pressed against your sensitive nub as you slipped a finger inside yourself with a moan. You worked yourself open slowly, your slick making easy work of it, as you imagined it was his hand between your legs, his fingers sinking into you. How he’d take your swimsuit off and line his cock up with your entrance and push inside of you as he moaned your name. How his fingers would grip your flesh, prying at you as though he was trying to take you apart to keep pieces of you for himself. How he’d work himself so deep into you that you were certain no one else had ever come quite so close to climbing into another person’s skin before.  
You rocked your hips against your hand to the thought of him, not sure where memory ended and fantasy began, the fingers not plunging needily into your hole finding their way to your breast, grasping at the soft swell there, your own hand so unsatisfyingly small compared to his. You remembered the way his voice trembled as he breathed your name - his mouth against the tender skin at the base of your ear - as his cock filled you, the whole of him buried inside like he belonged there as he came. 
“Joel!” You gasped as your own orgasm hit, tight channel throbbing around the three fingers you’d managed to fit inside yourself, slick pooling in your palm and your tit filling your other hand. 
You came harder than you had in years, let alone from only using your hand and not your toy. It took you a few minutes to come down from the high of it, indulging in the fantasy of him in a way you hadn’t done since your freshman year of college. He last time you gave into it was back when you’d first started dating Gale but you’d felt so desperately alone, like no one had ever bothered to learn you at all. So you’d let yourself pretend that your best friend was still your best friend, that he loved you the way you loved him and that fucking you hadn’t been some mistake he’d made on prom night. It had seemed the most supreme extravagance, pretending that Joel would have wanted you to come like that with him. It still did. 
You put a stop to all that when Gale proposed, solidifying your relationship in an entirely new way. You tucked the memory of Joel and his body on and within yours away then. You’d never intended to think about him that way again. But then, you’d never intended to get divorced, either. 
“Fuck,” you sighed, shoving yourself out of bed to pee and clean up the mess you’d made of yourself. Before you lay back down, you opened the golden notebook on your bedside table and found the page with the list. You went to the bottom and tried to add another line but the pen in the elastic loop wouldn’t write. You groaned before fishing out the red pen you’d left in your nightstand from a night you were editing in bed from the top drawer. You added two words to the bottom of your list - trying to ignore the way the diamond of your engagement ring caught the light from your lamp, casting little rainbows on the paper - and circled them, pressing the pen into the paper harder than you really needed to. 
“There,” you said, capping the pen and dropping it on the notebook you hadn’t bothered to close. The pen rolled until it came to a stop, the red cap almost pointing to the newly added words as though they needed any more attention. 
That, you thought, was the solution. If you could just figure out how to accomplish that, you could put Joel back in that little box and keep this stupid crush from blowing up your whole life a second time, as long as you weren’t an idiot about it. 
You switched off the lamp and pulled your blankets tightly around yourself, trying to ignore the feeling that the words were glaring at you from their perch on your night stand. They blinked at you like neon behind your eyelids and you tried not to see them in the same way you tried not to think about Joel’s body on yours in the pool as you drifted off to sleep.
Get laid.
Next Chapter
A/N: I just adore these two. Honestly, they keep getting away from me, their conversations are so fun to write and explore that I get lost in what I'm trying to accomplish with a chapter. But that's OK! The ride is the point of this whole fic thing, right?
Thank you for being patient with this chapter! I got a bit sidetracked with another project but I think I'm in a good place to get back to my once a week updates here for a while. I hope it was at least somewhat worth the wait!
Thank you for being here! Love you!!
132 notes · View notes
melrodrigo · 11 months
Text
Reminder - Tardy Drabble
Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader
Summary: Tara feels a little insecure about her scars sometimes, you make sure she knows how special she is.
Warnings: Suggestive themes, fluff city
Word Count: 650+
A/N: Anon who requested this… ty. It was super fun to write. Do y’all want more drabbles? Lmk
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“You know, it’s a little silly to get shy now after what we just did.” You mumbled against Tara’s skin, kissing over the little scars that littered her lower stomach.
Everything had all happened in a flash, as soon as you stepped into Tara’s apartment, she had tugged you by the collar and pushed you onto her bed. Nibbling on your ear and pressing herself against you aggressively.
“Wah?” You had barely stumbled out.
“Just shut up, baby. Make me feel good.”
If you questioned her motives, you stayed quiet, because how could you refuse a request like that?
Tara was never really shy, especially around you. You brought out a goofier, lighter side of her that died long ago during the 2022 Woodsboro murders.
But today, when you pulled up her shirt and pressed your lips to the palm of her hand tenderly, where her scars were, she had recoiled.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, frown tugging on your lips.
Tara reached down and grabbed the sides of your face, wanting to wipe the frown away.
Her voice was small as she answered, “I wore a crop top today. Some assholes decided to point out these.” She gestured to her scars, brown eyes filled with hurt.
Your eyebrows furrowed almost comically fast as you sat up.
“Who?”
You were furious. Who did they think they were, talking about your girlfriend and her body? The trauma she’d been through?
You imagined the look on Tara’s face as they had said it, and your hands gripped tighter onto the bedsheets.
Tara must’ve seen the look in your eye, because in the next minute she had grabbed both your wrists, tugged you back on top of her, and tangled her hands in your hair.
She leaned up and massaged your scalp a little, “It’s okay baby, I’m fine.”
You pulled away once again, just enough to look her in the eye, voice low.
“Look at you, taking care of me when I should be the one comforting you. You’re perfect aren’t you?“ You whispered the last part out, watching as her eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again.
Fine, if she wasn’t going to let you do anything about it, you were going to make sure she knew how beautiful she was.
You lean in again, inches away from her face, breath fanning her lips.
“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. I can’t believe my luck that you agreed to be my girlfriend.” You say sincerely, eyes boring into hers.
Tara stays silent as you sink down again and hover over her stomach.
You press the gentlest of kisses to the first scar, the one on the far left, making Tara let out a little sigh.
“I know you don’t like your scars, but I think it shows just how strong you are.” You murmur as you move onto the second scar.
You continue singing praises until you’ve reached the seventh and final scar, one that’s particularly larger than the others.
“You’re beautiful Tara. I mean it. God, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone more beautiful.”
Tara lets out a whine, and tugs you back up to her lips, kissing you furiously.
“You’re being so cringy, it’s infuriating.” She whispers, but she doesn’t sound like she means it at all. In fact, when you look back at her, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger smile grace her face.
You press a final kiss to the scar on her hand, and pull away fully.
You laugh as she lets out another whine, this time louder than before.
“I’m making us lunch, I don’t think I even got to eat breakfast this morning.”
Tara says something unintelligible, turning over and humming into the pillow.
As you walk out the room you hear Tara ask, “You know I love you right?”
You sway on your feet and lean on the door, crooked smile on your lips.
“Yeah, I do.”
923 notes · View notes
hellsite-hall-of-fame · 11 months
Note
Morbius (2022)
\[♪♪♪\]
\[WIND WHISTLING\]
\[BIRDS CHIRPING\]
\[THUNDER RUMBLING IN DISTANCE\]
\[WATER DRIPS ECHOING\]
\[BATS SKITTERING\]
\[HELICOPTER WHIRRING\]
\[MEN YELLING INDISTINCTLY IN SPANISH\]
We shouldn’t be here when it gets dark.
Set the trap at the mouth of the cave, please.
\[MEN SPEAKING IN SPANISH\]
\[WINCES\]
PILOT: You need a doctor?
\[CHUCKLES SOFTLY\]
I am a doctor.
It’s impressive, don’t you think?
Vampire bats weigh almost nothing, but they can down a creature nearly ten times their size.
\[FLIES BUZZING\]
Wow.
What are you using as bait?
You volunteering?
Leaving.
\[TRAP CLANKS\]
Pay me now.
Before the sun goes down.
You throw in that bushcrafter on your belt and we have a deal.
\[♪♪♪\]
\[GROANS SOFTLY\]
\[ALL CHITTERING\]
\[SCREECHES\]
\[BATS SCREECHING\]
\[SHOUTS IN SPANISH\]
\[YELLING IN SPANISH\]
Come on.
\[BELL TOLLING\]
\[STUDENTS LAUGHING, CHATTERING\]
Move!
\[TICKING\]
\[CAR HORN HONKS\]
NICHOLAS: Should be able to take better care of you here.
\[CAR DOOR CLOSES, CAR DRIVES AWAY\]
Everyone’s here to help you.
Michael, this is Lucian. Lucian, Michael.
Michael knows more about this place than I do.
\[WHISPERS\] Play nice.
LUCIAN: Hello.
Hello, Milo.
My name’s Lucian.
The person who was here before was Milo.
No.
He was also the new Milo.
And before him was the other new Milo.
I don’t even remember the first Milo.
How long have you been here?
Long as I can remember.
\[MACHINE BEEPS AND WHIRS\]
And you’re still not cured?
There is no cure.
There’s something missing from our DNA.
Like a piece of a puzzle.
And until they find it, the only way to stay alive is an oil change three times a day.
What would you do if you could be normal?
Just for an hour?
I don’t think about it.
Hey, look at the freaks! Look at them!
\[STUDENTS CHATTERING, LAUGHING\]
Best not to be outside when school gets out.
Like the original Spartans, we are the few against the many.
\[BEEPING\]
Milo?
Milo?
\[ALERT BUZZING\]
Nurse?
\[♪♪♪\]
\[WHISPERS\] Okay…
\[BEEPS AND WHIRS\]
Lucian.
Lucian!
With one of these?
It took a team of scientists to build that machine and you fixed it with a ballpoint pen?
There’s a school for gifted children in New York.
I think that I could get them to agree to cover your tuition and provide private care to help manage your condition.
Somewhere you could study, learn, hone your skills.
You have a gift, Michael.
I don’t think I could forgive myself if I saw it go to waste.
MICHAEL: “Dear Milo, this isn’t goodbye. I’m gonna find a cure for us, so we can be cranky old men someday. Your friend, Michael.
P.S. You shouldn’t have unfolded this. Now you’ll never get it back together. See you this summer.”
No.
\[STUDENTS CHATTERING\]
“Dear Milo…”
\[ALL LAUGH\]
Please, can I have my letter back?
What?
Please, can I have my letter?
Okay. Here.
\[LAUGHS\]
Please. Ah!
\[SHOUTS\] Please!
\[BOYS LAUGHING\]
Please!
\[YELLS\]
Stop.
\[GROANING\]
\[BOYS GRUNTING\]
\[NICHOLAS YELLS IN SPANISH\]
Go away!
\[SIREN WAILS IN DISTANCE\]
Let me have a look. Let me have a look.
\[SCREAMS\]
He tried to steal my letter!
Milo, Milo, stop.
Stop. Stop. Stop.
\[CRYING\]
What about Milo?
I’ll look after Milo.
He needs me.
NICHOLAS: Michael Morbius completed his doctorate by 19 and quickly established himself as the world’s leading authority on blood-borne diseases.
His development of artificial blood has saved more lives than penicillin.
Michael Morbius, please step forward to acknowledge the receipt of your prize from His Majesty, the King of Sweden.
\[AUDIENCE APPLAUDING\]
\[TRUMPETERS PLAY FANFARE\]
ANNA: I can’t believe you dissed the king of Sweden.
The king and the queen, their loyal subjects, all of Scandinavia and the entire scientific community.
Yeah, but who does that?
Well, Anna, we both know I have issues.
But, hey, I kept the program.
\[TONE SOUNDS, THEN WOMAN SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY OVER PA\]
\[KNOCKS\] There you are.
Hey, Dr. Bancroft.
Hey, Anna.
We going to play?
Oh, I don’t think so.
See, now that Dr. Morbius is back, maybe you should try losing for a while, see how that feels.
MICHAEL: Not gonna happen.
Michael.
Uh, yes?
You got a minute?
Of course.
New one. For your collection.
\[WHISPERS\] Dr. Morbius is in trouble.
I’m in trouble.
MARTINE: “I can’t accept a prize for the by-product of a failed experiment.”
Lab 1.
Front page, “American Scientist Rejects Nobel Prize.”
You know that people actually like writing checks to Nobel laureates?
Makes them feel better about their investment.
It would help if you stuck around long enough to cash them.
\[GROANS\]
You’re pushing yourself too hard.
\[SIGHS\]
Does our generous benefactor, Milo, know what you’re actually doing here?
What am I actually doing here?
Remixing human DNA with bat DNA.
I have no idea what you’re…
Talking about?
Is anything ringing a bell?
No bells ringing. Uh…
Okay. Maybe this will jog your memory.
MICHAEL: I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.
\[BATS SCREECHING\]
That is a…
It’s a fish tank.
Hmm.
Like, for… flying mammals.
Oh, I see.
Some friends I brought back from Costa Rica.
So when were you gonna tell me?
More importantly, how did you get my pass code?
It’s the first six digits of pi backwards.
It’s your password for everything.
You should change that.
You could lose your license for this.
I’m not gonna need it much longer, doctor.
You, on the other hand, will.
You know, there’s something called “plausible deniability.”
You should be thanking me.
These are the only mammals on Earth that have evolved to feed exclusively on blood.
So in order to drink it, these bats produce saliva that contains unique anticoagulants.
So your theory is, if you can successfully splice vampire genes into your DNA, it would allow your body to produce those same anticoagulants.
MICHAEL: Yes.
It would be a cure.
At what cost?
The fusion of different species is a legacy we already carry in our bodies.
Viruses insinuating their nucleic acid onto our own over hundreds of thousands of years.
That’s evolution. This is different.
I don’t think it is.
We have to push the boundaries, take the risks.
Without that, there is no science.
No medicine.
No breakthroughs at all.
\[MACHINE BEEPING\]
\[CHIMES, THEN BEEPING SOFTLY\]
Okay.
\[RECORDER BEEPS\]
Test subject for cell combination 117.
\[MOUSE SQUEAKING\]
\[BEEPS\]
Come on, come on, come on.
\[SQUEALING\]
\[RECORDER BEEPS\]
\[SIGHS\] Test subject 117 has resulted in…
failure.
\[RECORDER BEEPS\]
I don’t wanna see you get hurt.
I should’ve died years ago, Martine.
Why am I still alive if not to fix this?
To save my best friend, Milo.
And everyone else like us.
Not like this.
Dr. Morbius, it’s Anna.
\[♪♪♪\]
\[MONITORS BEEPING RAPIDLY\]
\[PANTING\]
Her temperature’s spiking, and her kidneys are shutting down.
We have to induce a coma before she has a stroke.
A hundred milligrams of propofol.
NURSE: Sure.
MARTINE: Now.
Come on.
MICHAEL: It’s okay.
It’s okay. We got you.
There you go.
There you go.
Thank you, nurse.
We’re gonna let you sleep a bit.
Take a nice long nap.
\[MONITOR BEEPING STEADILY\]
\[SQUEAKING\]
Michael.
What?
It worked.
\[♪♪♪\]
\[CLOCK CHIMES\]
Dr. Michael Morbius.
\[IN NORWEGIAN\] Some crippled guy’s here to see the Boss.
MILO: Michael! Get over here!
\[IN NORWEGIAN\] As long as I am a cripple you’ll be fine.
♪ Stop dreaming Of the quiet life… ♪
You’re late. I was trying out this new thing called “working.”
Oh, yeah. I don’t believe I’m familiar with the word.
I don’t believe you are.
So, what’s up with the goon squad?
Oh, I won a hand of cards against some Russian gentlemen.
Apparently they found his luck improbable.
There you are.
More like impossible.
So, doctor, how is our favorite patient?
Still determined to make his short life even shorter?
Yes, I am. Anyway, you’re one to talk.
You look terrible. Look at the state of you.
Says the man wearing… What is that, a quilt?
Oh, sorry. I didn’t get the memo to dress for a funeral.
\[LAUGHS\]
\[CHUCKLES\]
Right. I will see you later.
And you… my door is always open.
We miss you at Horizon.
We could use your mind.
I’ll leave you two to your fun.
Bye, Nicholas.
I have some good news.
Let’s go for a walk.
How’s Martine doing these days?
Dr. Bancroft? She is, uh, overqualified, outperforming, brilliant as usual.
And a royal pain in my ass.
But she’s keeping me honest for the most part. Why do you ask?
Eh, no reason. Just haven’t seen you in forever.
I wondered if she had something to do with it.
Aw, I miss you too.
But, yes, she has been working with me to save our lives.
I could ask her to stop if you like, put us out of our misery.
Just don’t do something stupid and go and fall in love because, believe you me, there is absolutely no cure for that.
Says the guy who knows absolutely nothing about the subject.
Not true.
I read about it in books all the time.
Books, really? Wow.
Yeah.
Or romantic comedies. The point is…
The point is, love is not on the cards for us, my friend.
Listen, if you start quoting The Notebook to me, I am going to stop and hobble very slowly in the opposite direction.
\[LAUGHS\]
Throw it!
MICHAEL: I’m close, Milo.
I can feel it.
A cure.
It’s finally possible.
Seriously?
Highly experimental.
Ethically questionable.
Very, very, very expensive.
I knew that was coming.
And not exactly legal.
Oh, and it has to be done in international waters.
\[LAUGHS\]
You were always expensive.
Is it dangerous? Should I be worried?
You want me to lie to you?
That would be nice, yes.
It’s a walk in the park on a sunny day.
Oh, yeah, that bad, eh?
Listen.
We don’t have much time left.
This could be our last chance.
So, what do you say?
We go out with a fight?
\[SIGHS\]
Yeah.
You with me?
Till the day you die, brother.
Till the day you die. You’ll have everything you need.
We’re the original Spartans, mate.
The few against the many.
Yeah.
\[♪♪♪\]
\[INDISTINCT CHATTER OVER RADIO\]
You know, I’m sure you’re cheating.
No. No, you’re not.
What you got?
MICHAEL: Putting another one in the oven.
Wish me luck.
\[CHIMING\]
The moment of truth.
\[CHIMES AND BEEPS\]
Success, Martine. We did it.
It’s holding together.
\[RECORDER BEEPS\]
Test 243.
\[INHALES DEEPLY\]
Human trials.
\[RECORDER BEEPS\]
\[EXHALES SHARPLY\]
I’m glad it’s you.
Had a lot of other suitors, didn’t you?
Yeah.
You know, the whole near-death thing is very, very chic.
I read it in Cosmo.
\[LAUGHS\]
Do they still make Cosmo? I don’t know.
I know it’s just what you always wanted.
Could be a collector’s item one day, you never know.
This better not be my last one.
I know this is painful, but you got it.
\[GROANS SOFTLY\]
That’s it. Bingo.
Right there.
\[SHUSHES\]
\[GROANS\]
Almost there, almost there.
\[EXHALES SHARPLY\]
\[SHUSHES\]
It’s all right. Come on. Come on.
There you go.
\[GROANS SOFTLY\]
You can buckle me up.
Yeah.
Yeah.
You all right? Great.
\[♪♪♪\]
\[ELECTRICITY CRACKLES\]
I call.
Bringing out the big guns.
Let’s go again.
I’ll be back. I’m gonna check on the doctor.
All right.
\[MONITOR BEEPING\]
\[DOOR CLANGS OPEN\]
You shouldn’t be down here.
I can be wherever I want, nurse.
It’s “doctor,” actually.
\[SNICKERS\]
I’m afraid you’re gonna have to leave.
Doctor. Sure, I can see it.
But, uh, you’re still the help, just like me.
Wow.
You can tell all that by just looking at me, huh?
Here I thought you were just another jacked-up dumb shit.
\[LAUGHS\]
Get out.
\[ALERT BLARING\]
Michael?
\[GUN COCKS\]
\[METAL CLANKS\]
Michael?
Where is he?
\[METAL CLANKS\]
Don’t move.
\[ROARS\]
What the hell?
Everybody down to the lab now.
\[WALKIE BEEPS\]
Roger that.
\[GRUNTS\]
Don’t shoot!
\[ALARM BLARING\]
Michael!
\[FOX GROANING\]
Stop!
\[GROWLS\]
Michael.
\[GROWLS\]
It’s just me.
\[ALARM BLARING\]
It’s just me.
\[POUNDS ON GLASS\]
Michael, please.
Michael, stop!
Stop! Please!
You’re hurting yourself! Stop!
Hey! Step back! Move!
Stop. Put that gun down…
Move!
\[GROWLING\]
\[GROANS\]
\[SCREAMS\]
\[YELLS\]
Shit. Close it! Close it!
What the hell is that thing?
\[♪♪♪\]
\[ROARS\]
Fall back! Fall back!
Shit.
MAN 1: Let’s move.
MAN 2: Go, go, go!
\[GROANS\]
Johnny!
\[GRUNTING\]
\[SCREAMS\]
\[MORBIUS GROWLS\]
Get out of here!
MAN \[OVER RADIO\]: Sweeping Level 3.
Jason, come in.
Jason. Jason?
\[SCREAMS\]
Oh, shit.
Son of a bitch!
\[GROANS\]
Shit! Oh!
Oh, shit!
\[HIGH-PITCHED SCRAPING\]
\[GROANS\]
\[GAGGING\]
\[MORBIUS GROWLS\]
\[PANTING\]
\[SCREAMS\]
\[ROARS\]
\[GASPS\]
\[♪♪♪\]
\[BREATHING HEAVILY\]
Martine.
Martine.
\[HEART BEATING STEADILY\]
\[WHISPERS\] Oh, my God.
\[VOMITS\]
\[GROANS\]
\[BREATHING HEAVILY\]
\[FEEDBACK OVER RADIO\]
Mayday, mayday, mayday.
This is the LCV Murnau.
Call letters 3-X5Y.
We are 13 nautical miles off the coast of Long Island.
Request immediate airlift.
Repeat, this is the LCV Murnau.
Mayday, mayday, mayday.
\[♪♪♪\]
It’s up here to the right.
\[PEOPLE CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY\]
FBI Agent Stroud. Can we have the room, please?
RODRIGUEZ: You heard the man. Can we please have the room?
If you could start exiting, that’d be fantastic.
Well, we haven’t had anything this good since that thing in San Francisco.
Uh, eight bodies, running IDs right now, but apparently they all shop at the same mercenary supply store.
Uh, one survivor, a Dr. Martine Bancroft.
Can we talk to her?
If she wakes up.
Uh, she fell down and hit her head, apparently.
Anything else?
Someone made a mayday call.
Not Dr. Bancroft.
Nope.
It was a male, didn’t identify himself, then wiped all the surveillance footage.
SIMON: He grew a conscience and jumped overboard?
It happens. Oh, and get this.
All the bodies that you’re looking at are nearly drained of their blood.
So, what hunts at night and drinks human blood?
You’re gonna love this.
REPORTER: Early this morning an unmanned cargo ship was discovered near the eastern tip of Long Island with multiple bodies on board.
Authorities are not making any comment at this time.
But there are reports of one survivor, and we have learned from a high-ranking Coast Guard official that the vessel was flying a Panamanian flag when it drifted in from international…
What’s happened?
Some kind of accident.
How’s your pain today? On a one to ten?
Eleven.
\[TONE SOUNDS, THEN MAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY OVER PA\]
\[MONITOR BEEPING STEADILY AND VENTILATOR HISSING\]
\[TONE SOUNDS, THEN MAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY OVER PA\]
\[WHISPERS\] I’m sorry.
You’re going to be okay.
\[♪♪♪\]
here you all go!! also I did have to read though this whole thing to make sure it wasn’t anything bad because I actually didn’t know what Morbius was lmao and idk if this is even the whole script (also i’m so incredibly sorry to everyone…. including myself, bc my phone is glitching so badly trying to post this)
457 notes · View notes
dreamescapeswriting · 2 years
Text
Stray Kids Reaction || Meeting After Long Distance [Request]
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⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - August 2022
⤜MASTERLIST
GIFS DO NOT BELONG TO ME! ALL CREDIT TO ORIGINAL CREATORS
CHAN:
The plan was simple, walk into Chan's office with Changbin and sit down as if nothing was different about this whole thing it was Jisung's idea to see how long it would take Chan to notice you. You were doing your best to ignore the way your heart was practically pounding to get out of your chest just to hand itself over to Chan. It wasn't the first time you and Chan had met but it was the first time since Covid and quarantine started. It was safe to say that you were nervous about the whole thing and worried that Chan was just going to be annoyed that you had shown up randomly. 
What if, for some reason, there was no spark anymore? Not that, that could ever possibly be true since every time Chan would call or video time you, you'd turn into a puddle. 
"Hey, hyung," Changbin said casually as you both walked into the studio to see your boyfriend with him staring down at his laptop, working hard as he tried to compose a song. The three of them were supposed to be working on something for the new album but the boys had already spoken with their manager about letting Chan have some much-needed time off. 
"Hey, did you bring snacks?" Chan asked without even looking up which made you smirk a little as you took a spot on the sofa and just waited for him to turn around. There had been talking between the two of you about you coming to visit but nothing had ever been set into motion until now. Or rather, until last week when Changbin and Jisung both decided to hatch a plan to bring you over to surprise their leader. 
"Some would say he bought a whole damn meal," Jisung mentioned as he kept his phone on you and Chan at all times. You felt your entire body heat up as you heard Jisung say that comment, it was something Chan would always say to you when he was trying to make you get flustered around him. 
"What are you talking about? We're supposed to be going out to dinner." Chan's fingers stopped working and he turned to face Jisung looking more confused when he noticed the camera pointed directly at him. A deep frown embedded itself onto your boyfriend's forehead and you did what you could not to laugh at the sight.
"What are you doing?" He laughed nervously before turning around his chair, almost falling out of it when he turned around to see you beaming from ear to ear at him. A deep blush began to take on his cheeks as he finally realised that you were actually sitting there in front of him after all of this time. 
"Hey, Channie," You giggled as he continued to stare at you, too afraid to move in case this was some kind of dream that he was having.
"YN?!" His voice cracked as he yelled your name out, suddenly tackling you down onto the sofa as you wrapped your arms around his neck and whimpered as you laid your head on him. All of the sparks are still there as you let yourself relax in his embrace, sniffling a little as you cuddled him.
"Are you crying baby?" You questioned quietly not wanting the boys to hear but you could feel his tears seeping through your shirt. It wasn't often that Chan would get like this and you doubted he wanted everyone to see him so vulnerable. He simply nodded and you looked to Changbin and Jisung and nodded your head for them to leave you both alone. 
"I missed you," Chan whispered as he slowly pulled away and turned to look at you, his eyes puffy and red as you smiled over at him gently running your hand over his cheek. 
"I missed you too, are you surprised?" You laughed before kissing his cheeks softly and making him whine, 
"Yes. I can't believe you didn't tell me you were coming. I would have made sure I had some time off," He hated the idea of you being here and stuck in the studio with him, not that you ever would have minded. You enjoyed watching him work, it was a pleasure to see him doing what he loved most. 
"The boys already did that baby, it was their idea." You confirmed as he began to get onto the seat beside you, cuddling close to you and getting clingy with you.
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MINHO:
The entire plane ride over had been nerve-wracking, to say the least, and now wasn't any better. The whole time you had been planning to meet up with Minho he had been so confident about everything but now all of that was gone out of the window. Both of you seemed to be too nervous to look at one another and you were worried he didn't want to be with you. Or that now you were finally in person all of the magic had gone for him but you couldn't have been more wrong. Minho was overly nervous and he was being unusually quiet around you and he seemed to be fiddling with his fingers a lot. The boys had managed to spook him earlier that morning before he was coming to see you. They told him that things were going to have to be perfect for him if you were going to come back and he was too worried about suddenly doing something wrong, 
"Minho...You don't have to be nervous..." You trailed off after being silent in the car. The silence was going to kill you and all you wanted to do was talk to your boyfriend the same way the two of you spoke over the phone together.
"I'm not." He shifted his gaze and stared out of the window, biting down on his cheek as he tried to think of all the things he had planned for you both and if any of them were good enough. It wasn't as though the two of you could go out a lot but for what he had planned he was sure you were going to enjoy it.
"Liar, I can see how nervous you are." You told him as you took off your seatbelt and moved closer to him, his eyes finding yours as he swallowed the lump in his throat.
"I can't help it. I just want everything to be perfect for you," He admitted shyly as you smiled at him, there was something adorable seeing him get nervous like this. You'd been worried it was about both of you finally meeting in person and not liking you. 
"Just relax... it's just like it normally is." You whispered moving closer to him in the back of the car and taking his hand in your hand. 
"Except I'm not on a screen and we can do this-" You whispered once again before pressing a kiss to his cheek, making him blush deeply as he faced you. 
"Do it again," He hated that it sounded like he was begging but he didn't really care as long as he got to kiss you, 
"How about you kiss me?" You smirked before he gently took your chin in between his thumb and fingers, slowly turning your head up as he leaned down to kiss you softly. Both of you finally relaxed as you felt one another close,
"Everything is perfect as long as I have you with me Minho," You told him as you slowly pulled away and looked at one another in the eyes, his lighting up at the thought of it.
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CHANGBIN:
"You sure about this?" You asked Chan as you slowly walked into the gym with him, you were dressed in gym gear and you weren't sure about any of this. This whole thing was Chan's idea and you were worried that Changbin wasn't going to be happy to see you. That and you worried that if their boss found out the boys had snuck you into the building and their gym that they would get into trouble for it. You weren't an idol, nor were you a staff member so you weren't supposed to be here right now. You'd been perfectly fine with waiting in your hotel room until they were home but the boys had insisted on doing it this way. 
"Sure as sure can be, just start calling his nickname out or asking him for something," Chan smirked before leaving you by some of the weights and going to join the others who were all watching from a safe distance. Your palms began to sweat as you watched Changbin working out on the bench just in front of you. His muscles looked amazing as always in the shirt he was wearing and your mouth ran dry as you continued to watch him work out.
"Binnie, can you help me?" You called out and smirked as Changbin's whole body seemed to tense up and he frowned looking around the room. You quickly turned your back and made yourself look busy not wanting this to be over just yet, maybe Chan was right. This was a great plan. 
As soon as Changbin's back was turned to you again you began to call out his nickname over and over again. You'd gotten louder and quieter sometimes until you finally had enough of not being able to hold him. 
"Binnie, will you just pick this weight up for me?" You called out, looking at him as he stared at you. His whole face blanked before he dropped the weight onto the ground without a second thought about it and scrambled to make his way over to you. 
"Holy fuck-" He whispered as he wrapped his arms around your waist and dragged you closer to him with a giant smile on his face, burying his head into the crook of your neck. Instantly you wrapped your arms around his and buried your hands into his hair, letting out a small giggle as he continued to squeeze you against him. 
"Was that you the whole time?" He whined, pulling away slowly to look at you and then over at the boys who were all smirking at him. 
"Yeah, it was Chan's idea. Though it was fun," You giggled before Changbin began to pull you toward the exit of the gym and toward a locker room. There was no way he was going to let you out of his sights, not even for a minute. He was going to shower and take you on the best date he could ever take you on.
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HYUNJIN:
You'd taken an earlier flight - a week earlier to be exact - just so that you were able to surprise your boyfriend with all of his friends around. It was Hyunjin's birthday today and after telling him you wouldn't be able to make it until the week after he was feeling a little down about the whole thing. Not to worry though since Changbin and Jeongin had done everything they could to make you come earlier than planned. 
"He'll be here in a minute, remember the plan?" Changbin checked as you looked down at the cake on the counter in front of you. 
"Bring in the cake, smile at him and wait for him to realise I'm standing right in front of him," You recited the plan with ease and Changbin smirked quickly going back into the front of the restaurant and waiting for Hyunjin. The boys had booked the restaurant so that no one else would be able to come in and all of the windows had their shutters down to avoid anyone noticing that you were there.
"There's the birthday boy!" Chan yelled out before slamming his hands against the table to create a drum roll noise which made you giggle a little. You'd always heard the boys being loud in the back of your calls with Hyunjin but now you were getting to experience it all first-hand. 
"Why did we come out to eat? We could have stayed at home," Hyunjin laughed as he took a spot at the table and a birthday hat was placed on top of his head.
"What kind of friends would we be if we let you sit alone at home on your birthday?" Jisung asked before a glance was thrown your way. You picked up the small cake and a chef lit the candles for you, letting you walk out onto the floor while the boys began to sing happy birthday. 
"Guys, I didn't know we were going to have a cake-" Hyunjin stopped what he was saying as he turned to look up at you, his eyes widening as he saw that it was indeed you carrying his cake. You laugh softly as he began trying to get up from under the table, knocking the chair onto the ground.
"Someone grab the cake!" Minho yelled as Hyunjin rushed up onto his feet, the cake was taken from your hands a mere second before Hyunjin crashed into your arms making you giggle.
"Happy birthday baby,"  You whispered to him while rubbing his back gently, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder as you continued to hold him against you. 
"I missed you," He sobbed, making you whine at the thought of him crying because you'd surprised him so much. 
"I missed you too, I couldn't wait a week," You whispered as the boys all began to start cooking leaving you both to stand in one another's embrace a little while longer.
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JISUNG:
Since it wasn't very often that you got to come to South Korea to visit your boyfriend you decided to make the whole thing a surprise. You'd caught a flight and headed in last night but since the boys were busy with work you'd decided to stay in the hotel for a while before going to see them the next morning. 
"Is he in his room?" You asked Hyunjin as you walked into the dorm's living room, gently placing your bag down on the floor as the tired member nodded his head. He'd been the only one awake to let you into the dorms and you felt bad for waking him up so early, 
"He's asleep though, just crawl into bed beside him. He'll probably think it's Minho," Hyunjin chuckled before leaving you to go into the kitchen. You smiled carefully making your way over to Jisung's new room, it was your first time inside of the new dorms but he'd taken you on the virtual tour. 
"Jisung," You whispered as you walked into his bedroom to see him sound asleep, cuddling up to a pillow which made you smile at the sight of him. It was adorable to see him like this, usually, you would wake up on facetime to find him asleep and cuddling up to the same pillow only in person it was so much better. 
"Cute," You whispered before carefully lifting up the sheets and sliding into the space behind him, gently laying your head on his arm until he shifted in his sleep. Moving his body so he had one arm wrapped around your shoulder and you could lay your head on his chest.
"So cuddly," You said a little louder whilst running your fingers gently up and down his chest until he began to wake up. His grip around you tightened on you a little as he tried to determine if you were Minho or one of the other boys. 
"Morning," You said when he slowly began to open his eyes, pushing you away when he got scared before dragging you back into him and yelling loudly, 
"YOU'RE HERE!" He cried out, you were sure by now all of the boys had begun to wake up but he didn't stop, he just kept yelling about how happy he was while squeezing you.
"Jisung...need...to...breathe," You choked out as he slowly began to loosen his grip around you and smile down at you holding your face in his hands.
"I can't believe you're really here, when?"
"Last night, I didn't come because I didn't want to bother you when you were tired," He whined at the statement before kissing you and reminding you over and over again that you would never be a bother to him.
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FELIX:
It was the first time that you were going to be seeing Felix in person and it was safe to say that you were completely and 100% anxious about it all. The whole time on your flight you'd been overthinking every little detail about what was going to happen. What if he showed up late? What if people noticed it was him and you guys were mobbed?  To stop yourself from looking like a fool you began to scroll through your phone in the hopes that Felix would text you soon and let you know that he was here to collect you. Panic began to bubble as you noticed that all of your texts letting him know that you were here were left unread and none of the boys seemed to be awake yet. 
Why did you have to catch a flight that arrived at 3 in the morning, you knew something was going to go wrong. Maybe you could catch a cab but you didn't want to risk your Korean coming off shakey and not translating properly. Besides, you didn't have anywhere but the dorms to go to and it wasn't as if you knew the address by heart. You'd been so sure Felix would come and get you that you hadn't thought to ask for the address.
"Babe?" Someone whispered as they stood behind you, wrapping their arms around you and making you squeal out in surprise. You quickly turned around to face the person that had held you and you whimpered, tears instantly beginning to fall down your face as you came face to face with the love of your life.
"Lixie." You whispered as all worries that you'd had floated out of your mind and you threw yourself around your boyfriend. Melting against his embrace as he let out a deep and breathy chuckle.
"I thought you'd forgotten about me," You admitted as he smiled, slowly pulling away and looking you up and down. You were wearing one of his hoodies he had sent to you in a care package a couple of months ago. 
"How could I ever forget you? I've been awake for the last hour trying to make sure the dorms were ready," He admitted before taking your hand in his and grabbing your bag from you. There was no way he was going to make you take your own bags, he was going to be the perfect gentleman for you.
"I have Minho cooking us breakfast, as well as Seungmin and Jeongin cleaning up the whole place."
"Lixie, you didn't have to do that..." You whined as he continued to walk out of the airport with you, giving your hand a squeeze as he nods his head. 
"I want everything to be perfect for you," He admitted before helping you into the car.
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SEUNGMIN:
"I told you, I didn't want to have a party," Seungmin mumbled as he walked into the dorms to find the boys blasting out music and cheering for him. He'd just released a skz-player and the boys wanted to do a small party with just the eight of them together. Of course, it was all a front to surprise Seungmin with you.
"We wanted to celebrate," Jeongin smirked as he glanced over his shoulder at you, you were carrying a small cake with the words "surprise" written in pink frosting.
"We've all released players before, it's not that big a deal." Seungmin frowned not understanding what was so important about the whole thing. It wasn't as if he'd just released his first solo album or mixtape. You smiled a little as you watched Seungmin take one of the cupcakes you and Felix had been making that day and smirked, even more, when you saw Seungmin's eyes light up. The cupcake was a special recipe you had been making for years and he'd only gotten to try them a handful of times because you didn't see one another that much.
Which was why today was even more special. It had been almost two years since the two of you got to be near one another because of quarantine and flights not being able to fly into or from South Korea and you were finally able to see him. Not just on some dumb screen or through vlives, you were able to be with him in person and that was something worth celebrating.
"I think its a big deal," You said as you casually walked over to him as if it was the most normal thing in the world,
"Blow out your candles so we can all have a slice," You giggled as you held the cake up for Seungmin to see but he didn't move. He didn't even blink as he just stared at you. 
"I'm dreaming," He mumbled as you let out a small laugh, shaking your head at him.
"It's real Minnie," You told him as he shook his head at you, pinching himself before letting out a hiss of pain.
"But, how? Why?" He stumbled over his words, not truly believing that you were really standing here in front of him. He'd been dreaming of this moment for years.
"I missed you, flights were finally allowing people in and I grabbed the only one I could." You admitted before he wrapped his arms around you, smashing the cake between your chest and his but neither of you cared. You closed your eyes and let out a shaky breath as you finally enjoyed the feeling of getting to be close to your boyfriend for the first time in years.
"Fuck, I missed you." He cried, hiding his head in your neck as you began to rub his back softly promising him that you weren't going to go away anytime soon.
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JEONGIN:
"I can't believe you missed the connecting flight, how long is it going to be until you can get the next one?" Jeongin asked, sounding panicked over the phone as he paced back and forth around the dorm's living room. All eyes were on him as the boys tried to cheer him up while he spoke to you. The two of you were planning on meeting up for a month but you'd just told him you missed your flight. 
"Tomorrow night,"
"Do you need money for a hotel? I can send you something, do you need money for food? Anything?" You smiled at the thought of him willing to do something like that for you, 
"No, I'm good, baby. Thank you," You said as you continued to talk with him over the phone, looking around you. Why was it always so hard to find where you needed to be?
"Where are you? It sounds pretty quiet." Jeongin said as he began to notice he couldn't hear the usual sounds you would hear when someone was inside of an airport. 
"I'm at the place I'll be staying at, trying to find my room number but I can't remember which it was. It's freezing out here," You mumbled, looking down at the sheet of paper in front of you and smirking as you reached the door. Jeongin pouted at the thought of you standing somewhere you were cold, he didn't want you to get sick while you were visiting him. Though it would give him a chance to care for you,
"Hurry up and get inside, I don't want you to get sick. Do you have anything warm you can put on when you get inside?" He sounded concerned which made your heartache at the thought, 
"I have one of your hoodies on right now, it's keeping me warm,"
"You need something warmer,  I'll get you a winter coat when you get here," He told you before sighing at the doorbell going off, none of the boys moved an inch. Too entertained as they watched Jeongin speak to you over the phone. 
"Can one of you answer the door?" He quizzed, staring at them as they all continued to stare back at him as though he was stupid.
"Do you need to go? I can call you back after you've answered the door." You told him when you heard the doorbell signal again and again until Jeongin sighed and went to answer the door, swinging the door open and looking at you.
"Sorry babe, I have to go you're standing at my door," Jeongin mumbled as if he hadn't realised what was happening, then everything clicked and he suddenly stared at you with wide eyes.
" YOU'RE STANDING AT MY DOOR!" He suddenly yells throwing his phone to the floor and dragging you into his arms,
"Hi baby," You laughed as he pulled you into the dorms, leaving your bags out on the floor as he continued to keep you close to him.
"Surprise." You laughed as he continued to hold you, refusing to let you go for even a second.
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ave-on-main · 6 months
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“Pre-boot Roy's dynamic with Slade is what fanon wishes Dick's relationship with Slade would be” is a bad faith fanon myth.
I’ve seen this statement go around since Dark Crisis ended last year and wittnessed people actually believe it, so here we go: It’s not true.
First of, lets talk about what allegedly makes pre-boot Roy the person that fanon thinks Dick is to Slade:
One panel that gets taken out of context to prove the statement above is Slade talking about Roy as his “ace in the hole” in Titans (2008) which gets equated to Slade calling Dick a “trophy” in Dark Crisis (2022). In context, these two instances are not the same. Comparing them makes no sense. More on why in the Roy section of this little essay.
Another point of contention is that Rebirth Dick secretly works together with Slade to protect the Titans (2016). People claim that is a rehash of what happened when Roy worked together with Slade while Roy was the leader of the Outsiders (2003), but the premises are entirely different. In Titans Dick works with Slade to protect the other team members. In Outsiders Roy uses Slade’s intel and funding without knowing he’s speaking to Slade. He thinks Slade is Batman.
It is also worth noting that the Rebirth version has more in common with the Apprentice arc of Teen Titans Animated 2003. TT 03 came out at the same time Outsiders did. Slade was revealed to be Roy’s contact in Outsiders #21 (February 2005). The first time Slade appears as Batman is Outsiders #4 (September 2003), but it is not known to readers or characters that Batman is not Bruce. The Apprentice arc of TT 03 started in Season 1 Episode 11 (October 2003). The show didn’t copy the comics, nor assumably did the comics copy the show. It could be a weird attempt at synergy to reveal Slade in 2005 but it is unlikely because DC cared very little about synergy at the time. Worth noting though is, that Slade’s role in Outsiders is extremely limited. Once his identity is revealed, he is no longer part of the plot.
Now, in fanon, the Rebirth version of events is largely ignored. If anyone in fandom wants to talk about Dick working with Slade, they’ll mostly use the more thought out version of the show as a blueprint or the Renegade arc of Nightwing (1996). Both comic and show are also actually written by writers who like Dick unlike Deathstroke 2016.
That Roy is important to Rose’s developement isn’t true. She babysits Lian but she barely talks to Roy or any of the adult Titans while she appears in Titans (1999).  Nightwing: Renegade retcons that Dick was there while she babysitted Lian, but all Roy does is villify Rose, not once implying that he had anything to do with getting her on the Titans.
Equally as untrue is that Slade is actually obsessed with Roy over Dick. It’s a purely fanon take.
There’s also this conspiracy going around that Slade & Dick stans working at DC are retconning things to make Dick look better, which is, I can’t say it differently, an insane statement to make. Dan Didio erased the Slade-Dick rivalry from existance, so much so that Higgins could not use them in the same story even though he was writing both New 52 books. Seeley & King could merely put Deathstroke into Grayson (2014) as a papershield target practice. Christopher Priest dislikes Dick, which he not only states on his blog but is also obvious in his writing (Deathstroke #4). Interestingly, the people screaming about retcons ruining everything had nothing to say about Rebirth Roy being part of the NTT roaster while Grant attacks the team (Lazarus Contract).
Infinite Frontier ties Dick and Slade together once more, but it is almost all talk and no show. It’s a distant echo of their pre-boot relationship. There was zero build up to their reconnection. Frankly, a Dick & Slade stan would put a lot more effort into it. The only reason DC brought a semblance of their rivalry back was because of Red X nostalgia and it shows. Dick only dons the Deathstroke mask in Future State: Teen Titans to complement Red X and his hunt for Deathstroke in Teen Titans Academy is mention but never shown, not even as a one panel flashback.
Meanwhile Green Arrow is now the first hero Deathstroke fought (Deathstroke Inc. Year One) and Slade encounters Roy soon after (Infinite Frontier: Secret Files #2). DC is still trying to tie Slade to the JL rather than to the Titans.
But what are their actual Pre-Boot relationships?
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Vastly different, that’s for sure. 
At first, Dick is largely tied to Slade because of Joey and the similarities (skill-wise) Slade sees in Dick. Later Dick’s ties to Slade’s children and what that causes makes respect turn into hate. 
Slade gets involved with Roy because of Cheshire and to manipulate the Outsiders by orders of Dr. Sivana. 
Roy Harper and Slade Wilson
Roy in Deathstroke (1991)
The first time Slade and Roy properly meet (aka actually share a word) is in Deathstroke The Terminator (1991) #18. They are both undercover and pretend to work with Cheshire.
Jade introduces Roy to Slade, and Jade “asks” for Slade’s help by using what amounts to a slave ring she can reactivate any time to control him. Together with her other underlings they set out to steal nuclear warheads.
Not knowing they could be on the same side, Roy betrays the team by going after Slade. Slade defeats him, and Roy is left in enemy territory.
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Roy makes his way back after Cheshire has already nuked Qurac. The destruction makes Slade and Roy temporarly work together to apprehend Jade and reveal their allegiances to each other (#20).
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While Roy is on the Titans when Rose joins the team in the following crossover event, she doesn’t interact one-on-one with him. All he does is give Impulse relationship advice because Bart is crushing on Rose (The New Titans #126).
Titans (1999)
Roy and Slade meet when Tartarus attacks H.I.V.E. which at that point is lead by an incognito Adeline Kane but don’t have a one-on-one interaction in thie story.
Their first true confrontation takes place later. Slade’s been contracted to kill Cheshire due to her nuking Qurac. As Slade and Roy fight, Slade mentions Nightwing as a comparison between the two, and even though Roy temporarly gains the upperhand, Slade escapes to go after Jade. (#22)
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Rose starts to babysit Lian after the Deathstroke & Qurac incident, but weirdly enough, she barely shares a word with any of the adult Titans. She’s really just kind of there.
Outsiders (2003)
Roy believes Batman is giving him intel and is funding the Outsiders  (#6, #11) . In truth, the Batman who he’s been talking to is Slade.
It's when Dick learns that Roy hasn't been talking to the real Bruce, that Slade reveals himself. Slade fights Roy, taunting him about killing him and adopting Lian to make her an assassin. Slade realizes Roy isn't on top of his game and sees the five direct bullet wounds he's received on an earlier Outsiders mission. Taking pity, Slade decides to leave him alive (#21).
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In #43 the Outsiders learn that Slade was hired by Dr. Sivana. The mad scientist saw potential in manipulating the team. It was not Slade’s idea to go after the Outsiders.
Titans (2008)
When Slade creates his own Titans team, Cheshire convinces Arsenal to join the team with her. She wants to use the opportunity to kill Slade. Roy pretends to have switched allegiances and joins the team.
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Slade knows not to trust them. He uses Roy’s drug addiction against him by switching out Roy’s “regular” drugs with a substance called “Bliss”. (#27)
Later Slade uses Roy as his “ace in the hole” when the Justice League confronts them. He threatens to blow up his ship with a warhead. The League, lead by Dick as Batman, retreats as not to harm Roy. In this case, “always his ace” means the reason Roy is on the team is to be used as a human meat shield because other heroes still care for him (Annual #1).
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At the end of this arc, Roy betrays the team and decides against resurrecting Lian and with that stops Slade from resurrecting Grant. Slade swears revenge on him because Roy literally did what the New Teen Titans did. “Killing Grant.” The Titans comic and the entire Pre-New 52 universe end with Roy and Joey deciding to reform the Titans because Dick still believed in the teams value.
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Apart from the initial Qurac storyline, there’s no canon Slade and Roy story in which Dick doesn’t at least get mentioned.
Pre-New 52 Dick Grayson and Slade Wilson
New (Teen) Titans
Dick belongs to the six New Teen Titans that Slade originally takes on a contract against (New Teen Titans (1980) #02). Slade contacts the team soon after their first meeting to take them out. Dick plays the voice of reason during that second encounter and makes the Titans listen to Slade’s plan. Slade fails to kill them (#10).
During the Judas Contract, Slade learns Robin’s secret identity through Tara’s spying on the Titans (Tales of the Teen Titans #42). Slade attacks Dick in his office, telling him he won’t kill him if Dick doesn’t resist because H.I.V.E. wants the Titans dead or alive. Dick knows he can’t win a hand-to-hand fight against Slade and manages to trick him. Slade admires how Dick escapes, ascertaining that Dick is the leader for a reason. He’s the hardest to catch because powers don’t make a man. Just like Dick, Slade was the best even before he got augmented. It’s a first for Slade to loose his target. He blames it on being worried about the contract.
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While Adeline and Joey get in contact with Dick, Slade delivers the Titans sans-Dick to H.I.V.E. (#43). Adeline proceeds to tell Dick how Slade became Deathstroke the Terminator. Afterward Joey and Dick team up to save the Titans (#44).
After Tara loses herself in her rage and dies, Dick concludes Slade and she were manipulating each other (Annual #3).
Dick remains in contact with the D.A. office to ensure the Titans are still going to testify against Slade but a Deathstroke imposter attacks Lilith. Slade’s attorney spins a defense out of the imposter (#53). Gar has his own plans for Slade while Dick and the Titans want to focus on aprehending the imposter. Dick gets sworn in as an expert witness on matters of identity, and he tries to use what Adeline told him about Slade in court, but Slade’s attorney uses Dick’s words against the Titans. Slade doesn’t go on further trial but will remain detained in prison and has a small confrontation with Dick. (#54)
Wildbeests are hunting the Titans and Slade gets hired by Dayton to save Gar and the others. He would have gone after them regardless to save Joey. He ends up searching out Dick’s apartment first, probably in hopes he hasn’t been captured yet (#71). Slade doesn’t realize that Dick is one of the Wildbeests he encounters, and the one who helpes Slade escape from the second Wildbeest.
The Wildbeests realize they have a spy and overpower Dick. Slade catches Pantha just as she finds pieces of Dick’s costume (#74). Slade invades the Wildbeest base, and Joey reveals himself to Dick and him (#75). The two end up fighting Joey, but can’t get through to him. Dick implores Slade to calm down and focus as they escape to Titans Tower. There, Slade stops Pantha when she attacks Dick shortly before the Wildbeests attack the base. Slade and Dick escape together. While Slade can’t believe Joey is doing this, Dick is the more realistic of the two. 
Later, Slade gets them out of a tough situation by morally questionably methods. Slade expects a response from Dick but gets a proverbial shrug (#76).
Shortly before their final confrontation with Joey, Slade decides he has no other choice than to kill Joey, which Dick is against. Slade kills his son because he knows the real Joey regarded the Titans as friends (#84).
Slade and Dick meet on the Titans Tower island afterward. Dick notices him, which according to Slade not many are able to do. Dick asks why he couldn’t be bothered to show up at the funeral of the son he killed. 
Dick attacks Slade in his grief over Joey, telling him to fight back. Slade does if only to tell him he lost someone too. Their fight ends when Dick admits he doesn’t get how Slade and Bruce can just keep bottling their anger up, he’d explode. Slade tells him that losing control hasn’t done him anything good and that he has to believe he freed Joey. He then shows concern for having injured Dick, but Dick denies his help, and they part ways without anything truly resolved (#86).
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Dick in Deathstroke, The Terminator (1991)
Bruce calls Dick to get intel on Slade. While Dick knows how dangerous Slade is, he calls him a good man, to which Slade later responds by saying Dick’s wide-eyed and idealistic. (#7)
When Deathstroke gets into crosshairs with the Justice League and has lost much of his powers, the Titans set out to confront him. He encounters Dick and Koriand’r while he tries to escape. Dick tries to stop him and explains to him that if he’s an innocent man, he’ll stand by his side and help him get free of the charges (#14). In fact, the Titans saw what was happening to him on TV and Dick made the decision to help him or take him down depending on whether Joey dying pushed him over the edge (New Titans #89).
Dick and Slade end up working together when Eclipso tries to take over Earth’s heroes. Slade heads to Salvagion to get information about his current situation where he meets Nightwing, who’s been caught spying. Salvagion isn’t the enemy, though, Nightwing is there to retrieve information about Cyborg’s files to heal his friend. The files were lost when Titans Tower got destroyed. 
Dick and Slade fight against enemy mercenaries, who are attacking Salvagion,  and figure something is wrong. Dick then hires Slade and Pat to save the Titans.
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By 1993 Dick’s appearances in Deathstroke and The New Titans apruptly ends because he had been taken back by the Bat Office. Editorial was quite strict at the time, demanding him to be written out of New Titans.
Slade in Nightwing (1996)
As Dick tries to apprehend an out of control Man-Bat, Slade shows up to do just that with tranquil darts, shooting Dick too in the process (#17). Dick learns that Slade has been contracted to capture Man-Bat alive and knows Slade doesn’t work cheap, so he and Barbara figure out who Slade has been hired by.
Dick ends up fighting Slade on a boat, treading barbs throughout, and ultimately taking Slade out long enough to escape with Man-Bat (#18).
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While Dick’s working at the BPD, Dick one day comes home to find Slade in his apartment (#79). Slade reveals that he’s searched him out because he has a contract in town. Dick and Joey were such good friends, Slade feels it’s fair to tell him. Dick asks for the name of Slade’s target, but Slade hasn’t come to betray all of his cards, he’s simply trying to make a deal, so Dick stays out of his way. Dick considers calling for backup, but there’s no one he wants to put in Slade’s path.
During his police work, Dick sees Slade again and goes after him. They have a short confrontation in which Slade reiterates for him to stay out of the way, but Blüdhaven is Dick’s city, he’ll protect everyone in it. Slade threatens Dick and shoots when Gannon Malloy, Dick’s partner at the BPD, draws a gun at him. Dick saves him but gets shot in the arm (#80).
The Batfamily visits him at the hospital, and Dick asks Cass for help with Deathstroke. She fights Deathstroke and retrieves a disc from him that reveals who the target is (#81).
Dick succeeds to save Amy from Slade’s first attack, fighting Slade until he takes advantage of his injury. Dick tells Amy to run, stating Slade won’t hurt him. Even though Slade implies that he will, Slade doesn’t further fight Dick, going after his target instead. Dick ignores his own safety to attack Slade in close proximity again. It allows Amy to get far enough away for Slade to temporarly stop his hunt and punch Dick unconscious.
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Dick remains by Amy’s side as much as he can, stopping Slade from shooting her by dropping bills on him and fighting him long enough to tell him that Dick s overbidding the contract put on Amy.
Slade responds by saying that he always knew that Dick had a heart (#82).
When Blockbuster dies some time later, new villains want to take his spot and as Dick learns Deathstroke will be the hired help, he considers how he can stop them while Slade knows his secret idenity (#110). Dick hunts down Westbrook to get into contact with Slade. By the time Dick returns home, Slade has received his message (which leads to the famous shower panel) and Slade witnesses how Dick has gotten involved with the Blüdhaven mob (#111). Dick tries to convince Slade that he is one of the bad guys now, but Slade claims he doesn’t have an interest in seeing Dick be a “selfloathing mercenary” now that he has to take care of Rose.
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Dick wishes Rose good luck after both Grant’s and Joey’s deaths, and Slade ultimately decides through Rose’s input to let Dick train her. Rose tells Dick she was a nanny to Lian (paradoxially because he knows. He was there in Titans (1999)). They save Sophia Tevis and Rose tells her father, asking him if Dick gets to have a private life from them, which Slade replies to with “obviously not” (#112). 
While Rose and Dick investigate another crime, Slade seeks out Amy Rohrbach, telling her he won’t hurt her because she is permanently off his hitlist. He can still kill her family, though. He is searching for Sophia Tevis behind Dick’s back and confronts Dick with her existence and proof that Dick in fact remains a hero (#113). Rose’s training continues, and while Slade does not trust in Dick’s loyalty, he lets him investigate the villains Slade is currently working with (#114). Slade decides to monitor Dick as he sends out Rose and Dick to hunt Superman. Dick has been given a glove through which Slade can monitor and change his heartbeat as well as hear what is going on. Dick uses the fight to show Rose that the ideology of her father is wrong. 
When Dick is later confronted by Slade, who is threatening to kill him, Dick reveals that Slade cannot kill him for two reasons: 1. Slade killing Dick would cause Rose to betray him and 2. that Slade has always failed to kill him and that it never fails to make him mad. Slade lets Dick go, but knows Dick is messing with something too big for him (#115). 
After Slade betrays Dick, Dick plants geiger counters in Slade’s house and makes sure Rose learns that her father has been poisioning her with the Kryptonite in her eye. Slade and Dick are fighting during the conversation. Slade tries to stay in control of the situation, but Rose ultimately believes Dick, especially when Slade tries to silence him even though Rose wishes to hear what Dick has to tell. Dick makes sure Slade knows he’ll get back at him someday for what he did to Blüdhaven (#117).
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Titans (1999)
This Titans story takes place before their fallout. Deathstroke is fataly wounded by Tartarus and goes to the Titans for help. Dick reluctantly offers him a temporary place on the team, but not without putting a tracker on him (#10) and reminding Slade continuously that if he fights with the Titans, he must follow their rules (#12).
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Deathstroke brings Dick up while fighting Roy, claiming Arsenal is no Nightwing (#22) and Rose later becomes the carekater of Lian but hardly talks with the Titans on panel.
Teen Titans (2003)
When Slade defeats the Teen Titans by manipulating several young heroes, the original Titans aren’t happy about it. Dick tells Slade to leave (#45). When he doesn’t, Dick and he fight while the other Titans take on his crew. During the confrontation, Slade taunts Dick, but Dick still stops Cass from trying to kill him.
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When Slade tells the Titans they’ll never be able to trust Rose and Joey, Dick replies that they have proven themselves and will always have a place on the team. Slade gets away, revealing it was all a test to see if his children will have a good life with the Titans (#46).
Infinite Crisis (2005)
After everything that has happened with Grant, Joey and finally Rose, Slade blames Dick for his misfortune (#7). (The page this panel is from was apparently accidentally erased in the digital version of this issue. It can only be found in the digital collected edition and the print editions.)
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Batman & Robin (2009)
Talia hires Deathstroke to kill Dick by letting him take control of Damian’s body. She states that Slade has a “long and eventful history” with the “foolish young Batman pretender”. Slade has waited a long time to get rid of Dick per his own words (#11). Slade wants Dick to know who is going to cripple him, so Talia intensifies the neural bond for Slade to be able to speak through Damian. They are working together because they have both lost their children to the hero community because of Dick.
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Damian is resisting the control, which makes Slade unable to do much more than to reiterate his desire to kill Dick. Dick electroshocks Damian, knowing Damian can handle it, but Slade likely can’t because of his enhanced senses making him more vulnerable while connected through the neural link. Slade goes into shock, and Dick later searches him out after infiltrating Talia’s base to give him payback. 
Titans (2008)
Deathstroke makes a deal with Mad Hatter, which causes his group of Titans to cause havoc in Arkham Asylum. Dick, then Batman, stops him from taking an inmate with him (#28). Slade calculates whether fighting Dick is worth it and decides to do so. Dick is still furious at Slade for what he did to Damian.
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Dick is forced to let Slade get away to save two Arkham guards but pursues him, getting confronted by the new Titans team Deathstroke is leading (#29). Dick and Roy shortly work together. Dick tries to convince him that he is not a villain, but Slade tells Dick Roy is now on his side.
Slade and his Titans are able to leave while Dick deals with the freed inmates off-panel (#30). Ray Palmer point out to Dick that he is taking the confrontation badly, initially only blaming it on the appearance of Slade, who Dick has fought “more times than any [hero]” (#34). Slade reveals to Roy that he chose him for the team to ensure the League could not act in fear of putting him in mortal  danger. Dick gives the order for the JLA to fall back but both Slade and Roy know they’ll still be pursued.
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As usual, Dick and Slade share a snarky exchange before the serious fight begins. Dick leaves Slade to Ray while he engages with Roy. The hero Isis stops the fight because they are in her land. Dick makes it known that they should have killed Slade long ago but retreats with the League, giving Roy hope in the process to stand against Slade’s goal (Titans Annual #1).
Conclusion
Fans who enjoy the Dick-Slade dynamic whether at DC or in fandom aren’t erasing Roy to slot in Dick. Slade obsessing over Dick isn’t a new concept. He grew obsessed because their paths crossed many times over the years, and Dick has ties to all three of his children. Slade never felt obsession toward Roy.
If you want your fanon Slade to be obsessed with fanon Roy, and you want to transform canon moments, go ahead, nobody is stopping you, but don’t pretend it’s canon simply to erase Dick.
And before you all come with the Gar argument: Simply because the Gar-Slade and Dick-Slade dynamics came up around the same time does not mean they are the same. Gar and Roy are mostly tied to Slade through one person (Tara and Cheshire). Dick was initially tied to Slade through Grant (as were the other NTT) and then Joey, but their dynamic transcended that to something much more personal and the groundwork was laid by Wolfman himself when he made Slade point out how much Dick's capabilities remind him of his younger self.
The Slade-Dick dynamic is unique because it was allowed to transform and build-upon with each appearance (except for Dixon's). Enemies turning to frenemies then bitter enemies is not a story usually experienced like this in comics. It happens, but it happens as a backstory or under the same writer, not in real time.
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