my-hyperfixation-stories

[my-hyperfixation-stories]

Giggling with tears streaming down my face 😭

you are in love ᥫ᭡.

✄you’re not in love with Oscar Piastri, and you’re getting pretty sick of everyone thinking you are. come on, you’re just best friends (since like, forever) and yes you maybe used to be head over heels but you’re not now, seriously! and definitely the rumours and the photos you post and the way you’re sort of kind of living together isn’t confusing at all! just friends, really.

✄mcs: oscar piastri x fashiondesigner! reader

✄trope: childhood best friends to… something?

✄cw: fluff, yearning (?) you’re both idiots, landos annoying (as usual) smau! so posts/messages etc! NOT PROOF READ.

✄word count: 10k

✄notes from me??: hi everyone !! exams are finally over, everyone cheer now. so strange to work towards something like that and then it be done, though. anyway,! in all honesty? i hate this fic. i honestly don’t think it’s very good, or logical, or fluid, and i actually can barely bring myself to post this. i’d really appreciate any feedback or anything! and PLEASE, any ideas of fics im DESPERATE. like genuinely !! have no ideas but so much motivation to write! also, this smau kicked my ass like genuinely i was tweaking on getting the photos in place and then they all DELETED? horrifying. never (definitely will do it) again. i hope you like this a LITTLE more than i do! ‪‪❤︎‬

You don’t believe in soulmates, not like that, anyway. But sometimes, the way life works out, seems to test your obstinance. You’d met Oscar Piastri when you could only waddle around, and now here you are, sketching him in the corner of your sketchbook affectionately.

Although you’re a designer, you are still an avid doodler. You had pages upon pages of stupid comics and sketches, mainly centered around him, and Lissie, and Lando. Funny, that was the universe shouting at you again. Out of all three of you, Oscar was the one who had always dreamed of Formula One, and yet you’d all been pulled into its orbit. You, stitching together the outfits on the drivers’ backs, and Lissie, flouncing around Lando, finally becoming a publicist of sorts.

You and Lissie had always been so close, that you knew it hadn’t mattered when she’d left to go pursue a career on the other side of the world. But when Oscar had left, you hadn’t been so sure. You truly thought that was it, that he’d go off and drive and you’d be in that same town, watching your fingers bleed from pinpricks from needles.

You had been in love with him, obviously. Who could blame you? He was quiet, thoughtful, and caring, and you knew him. Truly. Inside and out.

But once he left, you let it go. Let him go. That night, tears welling in your eyes. His rueful smile and messy hair, arms extended. You’d hugged him so hard, certain that was it. And when you’d whispered those stupid three words, and he still got on the plane, you decided maybe it was better, that it was over. Childhood love wasn't real, anyway. Your brain hadn’t even finished developing yet.

But still, it was weird to be back with him. As adults, professional and different. You didn’t laugh as much now, but it was louder when you did. He looked the same, but just, sort of bigger? And he still looked at you, just as he had then. But actually, he laughed more. It was nice to see him happier. He’d been so focused, determined, when you were younger. Desperate. And he’d made it.

You finish your sketch, unsatisfied with the shape of his nose, before Lando comes crashing in.

“Good morning, mate.” he says cheerfully, trying not to trip on his undone shoelaces.

You raise an eyebrow at him hesitantly. “You seem cheerful. What’s up?”

He just beams back. “What, am I not allowed to be happy?” he replies, and you roll your eyes at him.

“It’s Clara, isn’t it?” you ask suspiciously, and he nods enthusiastically.

“She’s coming with me to the gala thing. And you know, I explained to her that it will be pretty public, and people will assume things, or make comments, and I understood if she didn't want that, but she said yes anyway. Like, seriously. Like she was willing to go through it, cause she’d rather be with me publicly than secretly, like being with me is the only option anyway.” he boasts proudly, evidently cheesing, and you can’t help but grin back supportively.

You were glad Clara was coming. You hadn’t met her yet, but he was gushing about her so often that you were desperate to make up your own mind about her. She sounded brilliant, but Lando had sometimes made questionable choices before.

“That’s great, Lando. Genuinely. Do you know what she’s wearing? I could like, incorporate it into your suit, if you wanted. That would be cute.” you say pensively, scrunching your nose at him, and he bursts into laughter.

“I forget that's literally all you think about.” he responds, and you mock being offended.

“Yeah, kind of my job. Anyway, stand straight.” you fire back, walking over to him and pulling your green measuring tape against his torso.

“So, I was going to go for a 1960’s theme for your suit, to celebrate when McLaren was established, sort of? It would be subtle, but that sort of style. Although, I want to try and add a 70’s kind of flare on the bottom, but I can’t tell if that’ll look shit. The sketch looked cool, but you know-” you ramble, scribbling down numbers as you instruct him to raise various limbs.

“Actually, I don't know. But for the record, I would’ve fired you by now as my designer if you weren't good at it, no matter how much Oscar would protest. Funny, you know I actually sent Lissie one of your designs first, so you wouldn’t have needed your boyfriend or your sister to get here.” he murmurs, trying to sound sarcastic.

“Yeah, I know. I wouldn’t have accepted the job if I only got it through them anyway. And for the record, you know he isn’t my boyfriend. You can stop joking about it now.” you reply firmly, and he throws his arms up in innocence, making you curse.

“Lando, stay STILL.” you sigh, exasperated, and you hear a familiar chuckle from your studio doorway.

“Yeah, Lando. Stay still.” comes Oscar’s gentle voice, and you smile instinctively.

“Morning, Osc.” waves Lando, and you catch Oscar wave back in the corner of your eye. You nod at Lando, withdrawing back to your desk, and swiftly close your open sketchbook.

Oscar makes his way towards you, placing down a drink by your arm.

“Careful, it’s hot.” he mutters, before turning back to face Lando. You smile at him absentmindedly, focused on comparing your measurements with the design you’d been working on. You hear them chatter, the sound muffled, until Lando shouts out.

“You guys smell the same.” he practically shrieks, and you look up at him incredulously.

“Um, what?” asks Oscar blankly, and you copy his expression.

“You smell the same. Like, your clothes. Well, you smell like her.” he accuses, like he just figured out some deep, ugly secret.

You inhale deeply. “Yep, my bad. I’m staying at his place at the moment, but I hate using any other laundry detergent, hence the smell of the clothes.” you state simply, surprised by his grin.

“Oh, finally! Lissie and I have been waiting for this for forever. Does she know?” he asks excitedly, pulling out his phone.

Oscar coughs awkwardly. “She’s just staying until she finishes the work here.” he explains, gesturing to the piles of boxes and wiring exposed around the room, and Lando sulks.

“Moving in together would be an insane thing to just, like, do, Lando. We’re not even together. You’re such an idiot.” you hiss awkwardly, trying not to think about a strangely domestic life with the Australian to your right.

He laughs quietly in agreement. “You are such an idiot. I’ve been saying this for a while.” he adds, wisely, and you look up at him gratefully.

“Yeah, okay. Whatever. You’re still practically married, doing laundry together.” Lando mutters, dropping his voice to barely a whisper. But it’s still loud enough that you both hear it, even though neither of you even blink.

“Alright, Lando. I think we’re done for today. I’ll text you when to drop back round to try some stuff on, okay?” you mumble firmly, waving him away with a calculated flick of your wrist.

“Touched a nerve?” he jokes, but his eyes are uncomfortably serious. And he did touch a nerve. You grit your teeth and smile angrily at him, nodding your head to the door.

“Bye, mate.” chimes Oscar, raising an arm as Lando slowly ducks out the door.

There's an uncomfortable silence, but it's momentary, because you’re suddenly too concentrated on what Lando mentioned- he really does smell like you. He’s close now, his head peering over your hunched shoulder. And it shouldn’t matter, and you shouldn't even notice, but you do. And it's pretty simple why.

Textures, smells, sounds. Colours. The way patterns jumped at you. They made you part of who you were, part of how your mind worked. And you had your own specific smell, your own style, the colours you used in your work and the textures you liked best. And here he was, straying from his usual familiar scent, and into yours instead. And maybe it was weird, for you to obsess over it so much. But it was like a form of identification. It was how you’d found your jumper, when it was thrown among all the others at the school. Stupid, little things like that.

But the worst part was that it wasn’t offputting, like when something wasn't matching up to how you thought it should be. Instead, you didn’t mind it. And you knew full well, if it was anyone else, you would.

“Do you like it?” you ask suddenly, breaking the silence, and you watch him lean further, admiring the detailed design in front of you.

“Its so obviously, like, you. But also so obviously him. That's brilliant, really. It will look amazing, I’m sure.” he replies earnestly, but you huff a little.

“You can be honest. No one's ever honest with my designs, but I need it now. This is a big deal.” you mumble, stressing the importance of the outfit, and he smiles gently.

“I am being honest. It’s seriously impressive. I don’t know how you managed to come up with a suit so unique? He’ll be better dressed than me, that's for sure. I’ll try not to take it personally that you requested him instead of me, by the way.” he responds, and you wince.

“Yeah, sorry. Didn’t realise you found out about that. Frankly, I had this sort-of idea for a while, and like you said, it’s very him and…” you start, but you trail off slightly.

“... and he's more likely to have people talking about his outfit than me, right?” he chuckles, clearly unoffended, and you nod back quickly.

“You got it. Sorry though, seriously-”

“Will you be my date?” he bursts out, interrupting you mid sentence.

“Um, sorry?” you ask, startled, and he just blinks back at you.

“To the gala. Unless someone’s already asked you, like Lando, because that would make sense. You know, design and designer, good marketing. Or if you don’t want to go, that's fine. But if you do, and no one-” he explains, and you decide to return the favour and cut him off.

“That would be nice, yeah. I’d love to. And for the record, Lando asked Clara. I’m so excited to meet her, really. How is she?” you reply simply, and Oscar exhales, relieved.

“She’s brilliant. Truly, you’ll love her. You’re sort of alike, really. Bubbly. She reminded me of you, when I first met her.” he answers honestly, and you scowl at him.

“I’d rather not know that Lando's dating someone that reminded you of me. That’s gross. But hey, you think I’m bubbly?” you tease, and he looks away, trying to hide a grin.

“Not my finest adjective, I know. But don’t worry, she’s still very different from you. You’ll see what I mean.” he sighs, before asking a simple question.

“So, what are you going to wear?” he asks, and you freeze.

Shit. You’d agreed so quickly, forgetting that very very important factor.

“Oh. I hadn’t thought about that. Well, I can’t copy this, because I don't want to match with Lando. Wait, what are you wearing?” you fire back, eyebrows raised expectantly.

He quickly pulls out his phone, showing you a picture of his suit. It was fairly standard, but had some interesting shapes and creases you admired carefully.

“Okay, who are you wearing?” you rephrase, and he looks at you guiltily.

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’ll find out. I just got sent this photo by Anna this morning.” he explains quickly, and you nod sharply.

“I like the shape. Harsh where it should be soft, but it doesn't look uncomfortable. And the subtle blue is intriguing. I can work with that. I just need to find out who designed it, so I can ask about the fabric.” You ramble, unfocused on him, but he’s grinning.

“What, you’re going to match with me, instead?” he smiles, and you roll your eyes.

“Good marketing, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously.” he bemuses, and you shake your head, suppressing a laugh.

***

Other than Lando being a dickhead, the night went incredibly. Your designs had gone down insanely well. An endless stream of compliments flooded you, about Lando but also about your own attire. And as usual, Oscar was right. Clara was brilliant. You loved her, like, immediately. You’d both ran off, leaving the boys, and you’d spent most of the night flouncing around fancy guests and trying to act a lot more important than you were.

She was creative, funny, and absolutely bubbly. It was actually the perfect adjective.

You were leaning against the edge of the stairs, deep in conversation about your upcoming collection, when you felt a familiar hand rest on your shoulder.

“Hi, Osc.” you whispered, not even bothering to look up.

“How'd you know it was me? Could’ve been a different dashing young man, asking you to do something crazy like dance. To this song. Which he would somehow know you very much love.” he grins, and you turn to face him, pulling that reflexive scrunched face.

“I always know when it's you.” you mumble back, and it sounds way more serious than you’d intended. “But for the record, you know dancing is reserved for the kitchen only. Or if I feel like winning in Just Dance, like usual.” you respond, hoping your subtle rejection doesn't land too seriously. He rescinds his extended hand back into his pockets, shrugging casually.

“So, how long have you been together?” comes Clara’s gentle voice, watching you both carefully.

“Oh, no, we’re not-”

“Together? No, it’s-”

You quickly talk over each other, in a blatant panic, hands flapping, but Clara just laughs, sharp and clear.

“Wow, sorry. Must’ve severely misread Lando’s message, when he said I could finally meet his best friend's girlfriend tonight.” she giggles, and you want to laugh with her, but Lando’s stupid toothy grin gleams at you, emerging beside her.

“Must’ve been autocorrect. I meant best friend’s best friend. Or a friend that's a girl, you decide. Sorry for any confusion.” he smirks, sounding annoyingly sincere.

“It’s alright, Lando-we know you didn’t go to school. Grammar is hard.” you say calmly, smiling back at him. He flashes a scowl at you before taking Clara’s arm and whisking her away, much to your annoyance.

“She didn’t protest against dancing.” comes Oscar’s hurt voice, and you snap your neck up to face him, but he’s already laughing at you.

“I’m joking. Just came to check you’re alright. You disappeared.” he states matter of factly, and you just rest your head on his shoulder, giving yourself a moment of quiet.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m actually quite tired. And this dress is too tight.” you groan, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and uncomfortable.

“You made it.” he chuckles, and you whack him affectionately.

“Yeah, I know. Whatever.” you pause, listening to the music.

“So, imagine I’m a different bubbly, um, dashing, woman or whatever. Who happens to know that this is kind of the only song that isn’t house music that you listen to.” you beam, holding out your right hand, raising your eyebrows.

He laughs, and takes it, and you follow the pathway conveniently made from Lando and Clara towards the middle of the floor.

***

yourusername

yourusername too fancy for me lol, but the clothes seemed to suit it. (get it?)

oscarpiastri claranelson landonorris

View more comments

user8 blown me away, as usual

user12 so cute

user21 oscar has a gf?

↳ user42 you’re new here arent you

claranelson mclaren garage is going to get real sick of us soon

↳ landonorris didnt realise we were hard laucning in yourusernames comments

↳ claranelson oscar has this girl in the garage every weekend and they arent together so actually you just hard launched us

oscarpiastri you looked better than you danced

↳ yourusername well im a good dancer so thanks

↳ user36 please get a room, thanks guys!

user36 can we please talk about clara and lando for a sec??

↳ user59 lmfao wait are u the mf that dedicated a whole blog to proving they were together

↳ user36 i dont play about my niche pink haired influencers bro

↳ claranelson wait i remember this ahahh well done

You switch your phone off and flop onto your bed, sighing. It was so bizarre to you, staying here. Calling it your bed, like you owned it. Like it wasn’t in Oscar’s house. It had been generous of him to offer so quickly to let you stay, and he clearly didn’t care about how long your studio would take. Sure, you’d spent many hours in this house, but it felt so different now. Your mess, all over the carpet. Scraps of fabrics and sketches and clothes strewn around. You, bringing colour all over the plain walls. It was genuinely like you lived here. In this room, at least. You’d never even seen Oscar’s bedroom.

But he wasn’t here right now, probably training, and you’d always been curious.

Huffing, you trail to his door, pushing it open. It was pretty boring- as expected. He had an interesting simulator stuffed in a corner, but the room seemed so devoid of character. Almost like a hotel room. You’d been there for two weeks and you’d already made it seem lived in, while his was just so plain.

You scan the shelves for something interesting, and you pause when you see a long row of photos. Various frames and sizes jump out at you, the irregularity of it all making you uncomfortable. It’s cute though, an endless array of baby Oscar next to overly large karts, or his sisters grinning, or his mum and his dogs. Then you see yourself, face scrunched as usual, scowling at the camera. You were so tiny, pointing awkwardly at Oscar’s shirt, while he beamed. You remembered it well, that photo. It was the first garment you’d ever made, and you hated how obvious you thought the clumsy seams were, even though both him and his family had thought it was inspired. They’d always supported you, even when your own hadn’t. Hesitantly, you pick it up to study it, and you watch a large pile of polaroids fall out the back.

You inhale deeply, recognising them. Lissie and Hattie had been obsessed with polaroid cameras, constantly taking picture after picture. You’d kept a couple of Lissie’s, somewhere in a shoebox, but they were mainly of you and her, or relatives. Hattie had always been the one who took snapshots of you and Oscar.

There were so many. An endless stream of different poses. Back to back, in your embarrassingly shiny prom dress, and his slightly-too-small suit with a tie that matched your pink look. A couple more from that night, including some with Lissie and her boyfriend at the time. Then a cute one, of just you and your sister, grinning. Considering they’d been hidden behind the back of the picture frame, you figure he wouldn’t mind if you took that one. So you do. You stuff it silently into your pocket and continue wading through the polaroids, feeling that familiar sense of nostalgia.

They all blur, grins and scowls and arms over shoulders, and you try to not get too upset. It’s sickening, how sweetly you’re looking at him, in the more candid ones. How he didn’t know, you’ll always wonder. Sure, social cues are often wasted on him, but you were so obvious. The proof was in front of you.

You get to the last one, almost wishing you’d never picked them up in the first place. It was a bittersweet sensation, watching years flash by. Watching you grow up all over again.

But this one's the worst. Both of you, evidently no older than sixteen. Your left hand, gently holding his chin. A wide-eyed grin spread across his face. Your lips, barely pressed against his pink cheeks. It’s adorable and disgusting and you want to rip it up and frame it simultaneously. No context could save that, explain the look on your faces. No excuse could make that seem friendly, and you honestly think it's more intimate than if you’d actually properly kissed him. But you can't even remember the context. It must’ve been a joke, or something. Because you know full well the idea of that would’ve made you want to throw up- not from disgust but from pure panic.

And it’s making you feel a bit sick now, something you haven’t felt since he walked away, that brutal rejection. Well, it wasn’t truly a rejection. It was a conclusion, an understanding. But a painful one. It’s a sharp, clear memory.

“I love you.” you whispered, clinging onto his neck.

“I know. I love you too.” he whispered back, into your hair.

You paused. “You need to go, don’t you?”

“I do.” he replied quietly, but he didn’t pull away from the tight embrace.

And although your brain was screaming at you to rephrase, to tell him not to go, to say you were IN love with him, to not release your grip, you stepped back. You watched his resolve falter slightly, in time with your heartbeat, but you couldn’t leave it like this.

“Bye, Osc. Good luck, yeah?” you grinned, mustering up any joy you could find, like the world wasn't collapsing on you.

He laughed lightly, scanning your fake expression.

“Thank you. But this isn’t really bye, is it?” he murmured back, his tone wavering between genuinity and sarcasm. Back then, you’d thought he was just being nice, and he hadn’t meant it.

Now you realised he was right. And you’re so lost in thought, so unfocused, you don't notice you are still holding that photo. So unfocused, you don’t notice he’s leaning against the doorframe, watching, until he speaks.

“You’re not usually in here.” comments Oscar, eyebrows raised inquisitively.

You jump, and turn to face him, a somewhat guilty expression painting your face.

“Ah. Hi, Osc. Yeah, you’re right. Sorry, I was just-” you begin, but he chuckles at you, walking forwards.

“-Curious? Yeah, not unlike you. What did you find?” he asks, eyes crinkling.

“Um, I found these polaroids. Hattie’s, I assume?” you reply, shielding the one intertwined in your fingers.

“Uh-huh. I meant to give them to you, when I found them, but I forgot. You’re welcome to take any you want, obviously.”

“I already did. Took one, I mean. One of me and Lissie, you know?” you respond, breathing slowly. He’s not looking at you, instead he’s studying the array of photos beside you.

“I know the one. Are you planning on taking the one of us you’re trying to hide now, or what?” he jokes, still not looking up.

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m just holding it. Anyway, how did you know which one I’ve got?” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

“It’s my favourite.” he says casually, and you almost explode.

You blink awkwardly, unsure on how to reply.

“Oh! Well, obviously you can keep it then, I was just looking at it. I don’t remember taking it.” you babble, handing it to him, but he just shakes his head.

“Funny, I barely remember any of these, but that one. But no, you can keep it. Put it somewhere more visible, maybe?” he jokes, but he doesn't seem to be that light-hearted. He’s sort of awkward, and vulnerable, and you don’t really know what to do.

So you nod, seriously, but don’t stuff it into your pocket. Instead, you pull off your phonecase and slip it inside, making sure it's central before clipping it back on.

“Alright?” you question, and he smiles at you.

“Perfect.”

***

Social media went wild at that simple gesture. Who knew a photo could cause so much speculation? Well, Lando did. Someone had caught a picture of Clara in his wallet a while back, and that's how his rumours had started. But he wasn’t being particularly sympathetic, and neither was Lissie.

“Frankly, this is entirely your fault. You’re just prancing around with Oscar, practically attached at the hip, attending all his races. And then, suddenly, you show up with a polaroid of you two kissing in the back of your phone. I'd even think you were together. Or like some of the theories, that you used to be and broke up, or something. If you really wanted to lay low, you wouldn’t be doing all this.”critiques Lissie, pausing only to sip from her obnoxiously sweet coffee, and Lando nods along approvingly.

“First off, we’re obviously children in that photo. Secondly, why should I have to pretend he’s not my best friend for the sake of the cameras?” you fire back, sulking, and Lando just laughs at you.

“You need to recheck what a child is. Also, calling him your best friend is such nonsense. It’s getting ridiculous now, truly. Look, it sucks. We all know it sucks. But if you keep going the way you’re going, it’s going to explode.” he preaches, trying to sound wise, but you just scowl at him.

“You know I rarely say this, but Lando’s right. Before, it was only the races that had events after. That you were dressing him for. Then it became every other one. Then he brought you TO these events, you’re at every single grand-prix, and you don’t even try to shut down anything anyone says.” adds Lissie, scrutiny painting her face.

“It’s not my place to do that. I’m allowed to be close to my best friend of like, twenty fucking years.” you reply obstinately, and they both sigh angrily at you.

“But are you really just friends?” comes a thoughtful whisper. And it’s not Lissie’s sharp voice, or Lando’s mocking tone. It’s gentler, lighter, and genuine. It’s got an apologetic melody.

“Morning, ‘Ra.” mumbles Lando, smiling widely as she presses a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Sorry to intrude, everyone.” grins Clara, sitting firmly down on a seat nearby, clearly unbothered if she actually is an intrusion.

“No, it’s all good. I’m trying to seek some moral support from these two, and they are hopeless. Too much unsolicited advice.” you explain, stuffing your hands aggressively into your pockets.

“If I may?” she asks, but she’s not really asking for permission. She’s asking for you to listen, so you do.

“Like I said, are you really just friends?”

You pause. Not long enough for it to be awkward, or for anyone to shout ‘I told you so’, but just long enough to wrap your head around how to phrase your answer.

“No, I wouldn’t say we’re just friends. He means more to me than that. But it’s the same sort of dependency I have on Lissie. He’s just like, part of my life. He’s part of me. But it’s not-” you begin, but she cuts in with another question.

“Do you love him?”

You don’t need to hesitate on this one. “Of course. I always have.”

Now Lissie decides to interject. “That’s a lie. You found him properly annoying, until about five. You despised him, truly. ‘We are only friends because we have to be.’ You said it, so loudly, so confidently, that we all believed you. He didn’t talk to you for a week after that. Walking to school was painful.”

You laugh quietly, remembering the reprimanding you had received for being so mean.

“Yeah, and then I drew him a card to say sorry, and we were fine after that.” you finish, and the whole table smiles at the story.

“I’ve got this one!” calls Lando, winking at Clara slowly. “Are you IN love with him?”

You knew this was coming. It was obvious. Obvious enough that even Lando knew what to ask. So you use the same prepared answer you have stored in the back of your mind.

“No. No, I’m not. And before you say anything, yeah, I used to be. A long time ago. But genuinely, I’m not anymore. Which is why it's so infuriating that I can’t just go to his races. Or hang out with him. Without being hounded with accusations and speculation. It makes me want to leave him alone, even though that's not his fault, and I can’t let them win. I can’t let them take him away.” ‘again,’ you add mentally. But you just watch the sullen expressions stretch across their faces.

Clara speaks first, which you didn't expect.

“Does he know? Like, did you ever tell him? Maybe you should. Just, I don’t know, mention it one time? Tell him that you’re over it now, but it’s hard, with the media and all. He’s understanding. Maybe you can work something out?” she says optimistically, and you just smile hopefully back at her.

Lissie beams at you both. “That’s a good idea. You seemed confident in that, ‘No.’ So, you should be fine. I’m glad you’ve figured it out. Anyway, I’m gonna head out.”

Lando pauses. “I’ll meet you in a minute Clara, kay? I have some, uh, fashion questions.” he mutters, and Clara dutifully leaves, trailing behind Lissie.

He turns to face you, a strange expression on his face.

“You’re lying. You are. I can see it.” he accuses, but you don’t even flinch.

“Norris, stay in your lane. I came for sympathy, and your girlfriend provided much better advice than you ever have. I told the truth.” you reply back calmly, but your words are aggressive.

“You can’t convince me this is like, fucking, casual? Do you see the way you look at each other? This is nonsense, seriously. So stop being a coward, and at least admit it to me that you’re still in love with him. Because you’re lying to us all, and we can’t help you.” he whispers bitterly, and you try not to blink.

“You can’t help me anyway. It pisses me off that we can’t just be friends. But I’d rather it be like this, and that’s how it ends, than I push him away because I can't handle some instagram posts.” you fire back, trying to tell him so much with so few words.

“For fucks sake!” he recoils, exasperated. “You’re both truly idiots. Why haven’t you just considered, asking him out? It’s not unrequited, come on. It’s obvious.”

You never had a short temper. You were cool, and calm, things that rubbed off from the Australian. He’d withered his way into your very own personality. But he wasn’t here now, even in your head. All you saw was some privileged prick, asking you questions you’d been asking yourself for over ten years.

“You’re the only fucking idiot here. I told you, I’m over it. It’s done. I don’t want that with him, not like that, not anymore. Look at what’s real, what’s here, not what you want to see. It’s not going to happen.” you whisper-scream, all too aware of the other people in the cafe.

“You won’t even try?” he asks, seriously now.

“I did. I told him. That last night. And he left anyway. Because it was never going to be enough. I can’t go back there, can’t think of it like, ‘oh, if he knew. Oh, if I told him.’ Because I did. And like I said, this works, now. And I’d rather we spend less time together, because of some idiots on the internet, than because me loving him wasn’t enough again. Because he has other commitments. Whatever, I don’t know.” you mumble, truly quiet now. Pensive. Painful.

You feel him touch your arm. It’s alien, and weird. And you’d rather he just jokingly punched you instead, like usual. ‘You’re such a sap, mate.’ But this weird attempt at comfort made it so much worse, and so much realer.

“I’m sorry.” he says genuinely, but something isn’t right. There’s a level of determination on his face, a drive for success in his eyes, and it's something you’ve only seen before sessions.

“Lando, please drop it. I don’t want-” you begin, but he just smirks at you gleefully, and you hate how visibly the cogs are turning in his head.

“Goodbye.” he sings, and you watch him excitedly sling his arm around Clara as soon as he makes it through the door, whispering something in her ear.

***

You throw yourself into your work for the next week. It’s relentless, and exhausting, but a good distraction. You spend as little time at Oscar’s as possible, even occasionally falling asleep amongst piles of fabric and scraps. On the nights you do huddle in his guest bed, trying not to think of him down the corridor, he seems to tread extra carefully around you. Like he recognises your change in behaviour, but doesn't want to talk about it.

You’re being absent because of Lando, because you think he’s up to something. That’s at least what you tell yourself.

It’s definitely not because you’re overthinking all of it.

Your phone blinds you slightly, as you check the time. 02:33. ‘Brilliant,’, you think, knowing the exhaustion will truly settle in soon. But you just can’t sleep. It’s hot, and your brain is whirring faster than those stupid cars that haunt your life.

Begrudgingly you get up, and blunder your way to his kitchenette, cursing as you accidentally slam a cupboard door way too loudly. He emerges instantaneously, and guilt floods your face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just thirsty.” you whisper, nodding to the glass in your hand. You can’t really see him, because the cooker hood’s light is so dim, but you hear him yawn.

“Don’t worry. I can’t sleep either, to be honest. I was just checking you’re okay.” he mumbles, and he steps towards you so you can see him.

He’s wearing odd socks and strange green shorts, which don’t go at all with the oversized top he’s wearing with an odd depiction of a croissant on it.

“Hi. Nice outfit.” you giggle, and he looks at himself, like he’d forgotten what he was wearing.

“You weren't meant to see me like this.” he groans dramatically. “Hi.”

You shrug, unsure of what else to do. “I’ve seen you a lot worse.”

That’s true, you have. You’d seen him with chickenpox, chasing you around on grassy fields as you ran for your life. You’d seen him with tear-strickened eyes after falling surprisingly hard off his bike. Mud, all over his face, as you tried to build a ‘bug hotel.’ When he’d got food poisoning at a sleepover one night, and you had to look after him. When he’d been the donkey in the school nativity. The list was somewhat endless.

He smiles at you, like he’s read your mind. “Very true.”

Silence hangs around you. You loved your silence- it was special. A silence that only worked in the peace you created together. The understanding, the thoughts you shared without saying a word. You always knew what he was thinking, and vice versa.

But this silence was different. You couldn’t hear him, hear him thinking. It was like a barrier had been put up, and you couldn’t see through it.

‘Can you hear me, Osc?’

‘Ask me, this time. Ask me what's wrong. Don’t assume it will work itself out.’

‘Ask me where I’ve been. Tell me what you think about me. Tell me what Lando did.’

“So, how’s the collection going?” he asks hesitantly, like you’re a colleague.

You purse your lips, and wonder what the actual fuck is going on.

“I’m almost done. Been working tirelessly, you know. That’s why I haven’t been around.” you reply honestly, chewing on your lip anxiously.

“Huh. Nice. I’m so proud of you, truly.” he responds awkwardly, like he has more to say, so you let him. You just stare expectantly.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows at you.

“Nothing. I’m fine. Just tired, you know? Like you are, I’m sure.” you mumble weakly, watching water fill your glass. You watch it reach the top, and then shimmy around the counter, back to your door.

“Goodnight, Oscar.” you whisper, slipping inside. But you linger, for a second, and that’s all he needs.

“Um, sorry, but like, can you come back?” he calls, and you turn around, placing down your glass and walking towards him.

He looks confused, and somewhat upset, and you want to laugh and joke and tell him to go to bed because it's fine, but you can’t. Because some indescribable emotion is drowning you, and you don’t know what to do. You feel suffocated, like you just want to hide from him, and also like you’re going to be sick. You’ve never wanted to run from him before, ever. You’ve only ever craved his tight hugs, and his soothing slow breaths.

“What is it, Piastri?” you whisper, your throat drying. He strides towards you, studying your paling face.

“Did I do something? What’s going on?” he asks firmly, searching your eyes for an answer but letting his gaze linger on your slightly shaky hands.

“No, you didn’t do anything.” you mutter, and you’re telling the truth. But you want to scream at him, shout until your throat burns. You want him to leave you alone, like before. You don’t want to see his stupid beautiful annoying mole-covered face ever again.

He exhales, relieved, and hugs you tightly, crushing you a bit.

“Good. I missed you.” he murmurs into your hair, and you shiver.

“It was a week.” you reply into his shoulder, but he just chuckles quietly.

“Yeah, but it's been a while since I haven’t seen you in a week. You’ve been so, like, constant recently. In the best way.” he stumbles over his words, but you get the point.

And you give yourself one more breath in his arms before you hurriedly pull away.

“Mhm. About that. I don’t think I can be around so much anymore. It’s just exhausting.” you stammer, and he looks bewildered.

“So I did do something. Come on, you can be honest.” he says, clearly exasperated at the back and forth.

“No,” you reply quickly. “It’s just, like the media side of it all. I make clothes. I’m not meant to be all on camera. And I want to be there for you, and spend as much time as possible with you, but I just can’t because of everything that comes with it. You can understand that, right?” you ask, and he nods.

“Of course I can. But, please don't push me away because of some instagram posts. Don’t disappear on me, we can make it work, yeah?” he responds, and you smile, although your heart is breaking a little bit.

Because that's exactly what you said to Lando, and here you are, letting it happen

And you know something Oscar doesn’t- you still meant what you said then. You weren’t pushing him away because of the media. You were pushing him away because if someone asked you now, if you were in love with him, that ‘no’ would be much shakier.

***

A month later

yourusername

yourusername hi everyone! Long time no see. Studio finally done, ive moved in and everything! Working on a lot recently, and im almost there. So excited to share my clothes with you guys- because im launching eightynine!! More info to come, love you

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user89 wait ive been waiting for this one hello

user12 oh my god. Oh my god oh my god

user8 so does this mean we can like, buy her designs?? Yay

user76 call me crazy but oscars number is 81 and her lucky number is 8…

↳ user36 wait ur onto something..

↳ user59 blind leading the blind

user42 why havent we seen you at a race in a while? Are you still friends with oscar?

↳ yourusername ofc, still friends with the mclaren boys, just busy

↳user21 oh my god ynosc divorce is confirmed im gonna sob

claranelson cannot wait to wear everything

↳ yourusername ur my top model

lissiematthews so proud of you, always. Love you

↳ yourusername best friend and sister we interlinked

landonorris can i model too

↳ yourusername umm maybe?? (not)

oscarpiastri well done.

↳ yourusername thank you,osc

↳ user42 user21, maybe theyre fine?

You smile slightly as you switch your phone off, and hate yourself for it. It had actually been quite nice, to get away from it all for a bit. You’d seen Lando for some more outfit stuff, but he hadn’t said anything about Oscar. Maybe it was because he realised you actually were keeping a distance. At first, it was awful. Horrific. Then slowly it got better, and you stopped seeing him every time you blinked.

And you realised it was indefinitely easier to have space, and breathing room, than to hide feelings and curse social media. There was nothing to question, nothing to confront. Just you, and drawings, and fabric. The true definition of home for you.

That’s when the door swings open, and you immediately become irritable.

“Hello, Lando. Unless Clara’s with you, why are you here?” you ask coldly, and he rolls his eyes.

“I knew you’d like her more than me!” he pouts, and you scowl.

“Not hard, is it?” you fire back, and he laughs sharply.

“Ouch. Anyway, glad you’re talking to Oscar again. He was getting mopey.” he coos, and you wave him away.

“Please don’t. You’ll give me a headache.” you bark, and he blinks, slightly surprised.

“Why’d you say yes if you don’t want to see him?” he asks, quietly. It’s serious, and you don’t like it.

“I do want to see him. I’ve been busy.” you reply back quickly.

“I’m sick of your bullshit. Look, Oscar means a lot to me. You’re messing with his head. And you're messing with mine. And clearly, your own. He came to me, fuckin’ like, distraught. Saying he felt so guilty, that you were so impacted by all the rumours and shit, and that you had to leave him alone. And I had to sit there and tell him you’d come around, and you’d work it out. That he should follow his gut. And he just looked like someone had died the whole time.” he explains quickly, and you pause awkwardly.

“Well, I did need space. It wasn’t his fault.” you respond, shrugging.

“What happens next time? When you get that close again, and then you get scared. Scared to admit you’re not over it? Scared of being rejected? Scared of finding out that maybe it’s fucking one sided? You’re both scared. You’re gonna keep hurting each other if you do this. So either cancel, or confess.” he stated loudly, his tone unnecessarily harsh.

“Lando, you keep overstepping. You need to get the fuck out of my business. I’m not a teenager anymore. I can deal with this. I did what I needed to do.”

“Here! Exactly that. Defensive shit. Because you love him just as much now as you did WHEN you were a teenager. Please, just say it.” he pleads, but you stare at him adamantly.

“You asked him, didn’t you? You asked him the same thing. And he said no, too. And you’re clinging to delusions and preying on vulnerability to make whatever the fuck you’ve got in your head a reality. We had our chance. We had our entire childhood. I told him, and maybe it was too late, but he left anyway. Why reopen that wound? It helps neither of us.” You respond aggressively, but he shakes his head.

“You said no, and you were lying. He’s doing the same.” rambled Lando, and you want him to just fall through a menacing crack in the floor.

“You’re a dickhead, you know that? He said no, ‘cause he doesn't love me. He never did. Not in the way I did. He said it back, in the same way he said it to his sisters. I heard it, I knew it. It was a rejection, and it was a kind one. And that’s all I needed- a rejection. I’m not going through that again for feelings I’m not even sure are there.” you admit, letting your words hang in the air.

Lando sighs. “He didn’t know.”

“What?”

“I asked him, if you two were ever together. A long time ago. He said no, that you’d never even entertained the notion. And once you told me about that night, at the airport, I asked about it. Like, in general. If he regretted anything. He said he would’ve liked to tell you something, but that he chickened out. He thought it would be best to leave it unspoken, leave it as a ‘what if?’” he explains.

“I don’t understa-”

“He thought you were letting him go. Saying goodbye. He didn’t know.”

***

Oscar was punctual. Not late, not early. On time. So as you accidentally arrive at your aforementioned dinner way earlier than you were meant to, you’re surprised to see Piastri sitting there already.

“You look nice.” you say thoughtfully, sitting down opposite him, and he smiles ruefully.

“Thanks.” he replies, scanning the menu.

“So, race weekend. Are you excited?” you ask awkwardly, like it’s not a stupid question. It’s like you’re on a pathetic first date, not someone you used to sit next to in Chemistry.

“Of course. Are you, coming, maybe?” he questions hopefully, and you purse your lips.

“Um, I don’t know. Probably not, with the launch soon. I’m sorry, if Lando was a dick to you, or something.” you mumble, and he grins appreciatively.

“No, he was fine. Just worried. I don’t think anyone other than Lissie has ever seen us argue- it’s not a common occurrence.” he jokes, but it’s sad.

“Hey, we didn't argue. I’m sorry, how abrupt I was. I was just overwhelmed.” you respond, but he just nods.

There’s silence again, and it's that offputting kind, that you’ve never really associated with him.

“This is so weird. What happened to us?” he asks quietly, and it’s so genuine and so full of hurt that you want to cry.

“We stopped being kids a while back, if that's what you mean.”

“You were living with me two months ago. And now we’re sitting here pretending we have things to talk about, like we don’t know everything about each other.” he mumbles, and you don’t know what to do, because he's right. And you feel like it's your fault.

“Nah, you don’t know everything.” you reply snarkily, and he looks up.

“I don’t? Everything from before I left, surely?” he suggests, but you shake your head.

“Nope, not quite. Do you remember my first ever sketchbook?” you mutter, trying to ignore the anxiousness in your chest.

“Yep, pink. Of course! You guarded that with your life.” he laughs, and you watch carefully as his cheeks flush.

“It was because you were in it. Sketches of you, of us, all over. Pages and pages of it. And when Lissie saw, she called me by your last name for weeks. So much, I used to scribble it down near the drawings, to see if I liked it. And she explained we’d have to be married, and I didn't understand that, so I just went with it.” you confess quietly, watching him try to suppress an evident smile.

“Well, what if I told you I had the exact same thing? Do you remember when my cousin came from Australia? The old one, with his girlfriend? He said he was going to marry her, and I asked him what that meant. And he said it was just making sure the person you loved the most was stuck with you, forever, basically. So I marched around declaring I’d marry you so we’d be friends forever.” he responds, his voice breaking slightly, and it's your turn to try not to laugh.

“Wow, we were hopeless.”

“We were.”

Then the silence is back, and it's warm, and familiar, and you feel that gravitational pull back into Oscar Piastri again. And for some reason, that emboldens you. Just enough to say something small. A few, insignificant words, that weren’t insignificant at all.

“You never said anything.”

“We were what, six? Of course I didn’t. I didn’t understand it.”

“Was that it, though? Did it really go away, just like that?”

“No. Did it go away for you?”

“No, but you knew that.”

You wait for another quick response, wait for him to prove Lando wrong. But his slow blinking, his confusion, makes your heart soar and your stomach churn.

“I didn’t know that. How was I meant to know that?”

“I told you, I said I love you. What else did you want me to say?” you ask, your heartbeat accelerating.

“Oh come on, that's not fair. You used to say, ‘thanks, love you’ practically every day. I bought you a croissant once, and you acted like I’d just proposed. I couldn’t ever tell what you felt about me, ever. I just assumed you said ‘I love you’, like because you did. Like family. We were that close.”

“Right, so shaky hands and tears in my eyes was no accurate indication. You’re an idiot.”

“Oh. Then. I am. That is fair, although, when I said it back, you just reminded me that I had to go.”

“Yeah, because YOU said it back so normally. I practically felt you shrug while you said it. I could hear the reflexiveness of the response, genuinely.” you mumble, and he laughs.

“That also makes you an idiot.”

***

Lando never leaves you on read. He always made an effort to not do that, because he hated being left on read himself. So watching him ignore a message he definitely should not have ignored is concerning.

You’re not concerned for very long though, because suddenly a cluster of limbs and pink hair crash into your studio, disturbing your calculated mess.

Lissie and Clara babble over eachother, flinging themselves at you, with a flurry of words that seem to be ‘congratulations’ and ‘condolences’ simultaneously.

“Guys, please relax. Me being in love with Oscar is not a new concept.” you joke, but you’re obviously overwhelmed. And it’s scary, admitting something you’ve been hiding for so long. Fighting for so long. But you were tired, and you were beat. And before you realised, you were crying. Just a little bit.

‘We were hopeless.’

You were. And you realised what you’d felt in that silence, every time. That warmth, that comfort, it was love. It was you both saying how much you loved eachother, because you couldn’t actually make a sound about it. And you really did feel like a fucking idiot. A true, silly, hopeless, idiot, teenager

But you didn’t have to be that again, did you?

You feel hugs and ‘it’s okay, let it out’ whispers, and you let yourself have this moment of vulnerability. You let yourself mourn what could’ve been, and you hoped he was doing the same.

“So, let’s talk about this, yeah? What do you want to do?” asks Lissie, and Clara nods enthusiastically. And you think about Lando and wonder how on earth he’s managed to make her fall in love with him. So you look at them both, and pause.

“What would you do?”

The question is heavy, and serious, and you watch them stiffen.

“I would go for it,” and “I’d let him go,” are their simultaneous answers, and you groan.

“Great, thanks. Super helpful.”

Lissie speaks first. “Look, I watched you go through this before. I know how deep this runs. It’s in your very nature. If you don’t do this, you’ll regret it. More than you already do.” she warns, and you know she’s right.

“You could get over it. For real this time, if you tried. It’s clearly taken so much from you already, and maybe if it was meant to be, it would’ve been by now. If you just left, focused on your clothes and stuff, idk. You’ll let yourself love someone else, and it will be okay,” advises Clara, and you pause at her words. Because somehow, she’s right too.

And you’re so torn, you don’t know what to do. Because you’re so disgustingly horribly obsessed with Oscar Piastri, and you have been for over a decade. You could conjure him perfectly in your mind, every freckle in place. Imagine his voice, his smell, immediately. Your heart almost explodes when you think too hard about him.

Your phone dings, a loud, ugly noise, and you sigh, assuming a range of messages from Lando.

You pack up your stuff, gesturing wildly to the girls beside you. “I’m going to see him, like now.” you reveal, biting your lip again.

“So, what are you going to do then? What are you going to tell him?” Clara asks carefully, and you smile. It’s small, and subtle, but it’s there. The only sign she needed to know you made the right choice, whatever that choice was.

“I’ll let you know how it goes.”

***

You arrive, slightly flushed, at his door, and he opens before you can knock.

“You came!” He announces, like he’s surprised.

“Uh, yeah. Obviously. What did you want to talk about?” You ask, even though you both know the answer.

“We made it a joke earlier, but is it? Is it a joke?” He replies sullenly, and you shake your head.

“No, it’s not a joke to me. I was like, head over heels, insanely in love with you. And I just don’t know how to cope with the idea of what we lost without even knowing we were losing it.” You admit honestly, and he sighs.

“You’re right. I feel the same way. And this might sound pathetic but I want to make up for it. I mean, it can’t feel much different to how we already are, sur-“ and you laugh. A horrible explosive outburst of giggles.

His face collapses, like you’ve just ripped out his heart and jumped on it.

“-I’m sorry, obviously that was back then. If you’re over it now, or whatever else, or the media and so on, that’s totally fine.” He mumbles sadly, clearly reeling from your cackles.

“Oh, Oscar, I’m not laughing at you. It’s just, ridiculous. After all this. You’re not pathetic, not now. You were back then. So was I.”

“We were scared.”

“We didn’t have to be.” You mutter, and he smiles knowingly.

“No, we didn’t have to be. But we were.” He steps towards you, slowly, bringing his hands gently to your face.

He pauses, then says, “Look, you were my best friend. Still are.”

“I was scared to touch your face, in case you flinched.” He murmurs, brushing the hair from your eyes. “I could barely even hold eye contact sometimes. You’d look at me like I was saving you from drowning, when I was actually the one drowning. I used to forget how to breathe when you’d pull my blazer collar down. When our knees brushed in the car. When you’d press your arms against mine and scribble down numbers. I was so scared of you.”

You can feel him breathing on you now, as you study each other’s faces, daring the other person to find something new, something they haven’t seen before. But that’s an impossible task, because you know every mole, and he knows every smile line. You know exactly what his teeth look like, and he can imagine the small scar on your forehead even though he can’t see it.

And there it is again. That silence that screams words louder than your voice ever could. You can hear it in the silence. You are in love, it says. He is in love.

“Are you scared now?” You ask tentatively, and he grins.

“No.”

And that’s when it all comes crashing down, and you throw away any doubt you had about soulmates, because yours is right here. And he’s kissing you so gently, his lips so soft against yours, that you can’t help but sigh. It’s alien and familiar at the same time and you wrap your arms around him subconsciously, carefully playing with the back of his hair.

His cheeks are flushed when you both breathe, and you press your forehead against his.

“Hi.”

“Hi. Are you my girlfriend now?”

“That’s a rubbish way to ask. But yeah, I am.”

He beams, like he’s finally found something precious that he had spent eternity looking for.

“Okay. Nice. Cool. Okay.”

“Are you freaking out a bit right now, baby?” You tease, and he laughs.

“Yeah, a bit. Can you tell?”

“I can. Now, are you going to tell Lando or should I?”

***

yourusername

yourusername hi everyoneee! sorry, it’s been a while again. Anyway. Here’s some news! Took us a while to announce this, because we wanted some time to ourselves, but I’m sure this isn’t a massive surprise to anyone. oscarpiastri

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user46 DONT PLAY RN

user12 wowwow

user23 i KNEW IT

↳ user46 we all knew it??

landonorris lame Oscars post was better

↳ yourusername only saying that cause ur in it bruh

claranelson yay, so so happy for you

lissiematthews oscarpiastri adoptive brother to actual brother soon?

↳ yourusername bit early for that maybe

↳ oscarpiastri is it really too early?

You switch off your phone, and flip it over to admire the new Polaroid hidden in your phonecase. Identical to the other, truly, but older and newer at the same time. The love in your eyes is the same, but your face is matured, and the frame cleaner.

And you open your sketchbook and you doodle it, lingering on his features that you could draw blind.

[my-hyperfixation-stories]

Pain of Caring too Much

Summary: Dean will do anything to save the people he loves from death. He’s proved that time and time again as he puts his own life on the line for his brother, he never imagined that one day he’d have to do the same for you.

Warnings: character death, heavy angst, mentions of drugs(neither reader nor Sam or Dean involved), dead victims, violence and death, strong language used. Happy Ending.. sorta?

A grin finds Dean’s face as the slice of pie slides into his view. He quickly pushed away the paper he was reading and prepared to stuff his face. The second he went to take a bite, your hand covered the appetizing treat. “Ah ah ah.. Pie means I get to tag along on the hunt..” His eyes narrowed as they look up to meet yours. Quickly he picks up the pie and walks away from you while devouring the dessert in front of him.

“No, not this one, this thing has killed too many people, it’s too dangerous. You’re sitting this one out.” His words make you groan in frustration. “When have we ever deemed something ‘too dangerous’? Hell I’ve killed hundreds of ‘dangerous’ creatures over the years Dean.” You try reasoning with him but the words go in one ear and out the other.

He tosses the pie trash into the motel garbage before collecting his things and tossing them onto the bed. “You let me go to those, why not this hunt?” You pester him for more of an explanation but he goes silent. When you glare at him he finally huffs out a quick answer. “I have a weird feeling about this one.”

Your eyebrows shoot up before another scoff leaves your lips. “So what? You’re a psychic now? I thought that was Sam Winchesters whole deal.” Sam’s eyes look between the two of you staying quiet as you argue. “I don’t want you getting yourself hurt trying to keep up with us.” An offended look takes over your face as Sam looks a bit taken aback by Dean’s statement.

Dean stuffs random articles of clothing into his duffle bag not caring how disorganized it is. He was more focused on tuning out your words. “I know how to handle myself Dean.” His eyes roll only fueling your rant. “I have been a hunter for as long as I can remember, you don’t have to bench me because you don’t want me getting hurt.” Dean sighs, halting his movements.

He turns on his heels to face your direction. “No. I know you can handle yourself. The problem is that you’re too damn stubborn. I can’t trust you not to get yourself killed trying to protect someone.” You scoff at his words and snatch his bag from him. This pissed off Dean beyond extent, however his angry words were cut short. “I can’t deal with you dying because you’re trying to play the hero, I can’t.”

“You don’t get to decide how I live my life Dean.. I can decide whether or not I take a case. I’m not some kid you have to protect. I’m a grown woman with my own capabilities, and I’m not letting either of you die! I choose what I do with my life and if that means protecting you and Sam.. then I’d rather be dead than find out one of you died because I wasn’t there to help.” Your eyes locked onto Dean’s. He was debating whether to fight back or reason with you.

His eyes flicker through various emotions, trying to find a comeback before retreating. “Fine. You can go. But I call the shots, if it gets too bad we pull back. If I give the signal, everybody stops everything. I’d rather everyone in this room have a pulse by the end of the night.” Before anyone has the chance to respond, Dean is storming out of the room mumbling incoherent nonsense.

“Your brother gets on my nerves Samuel.” You huff as you fall back onto the motel chair. Everything in your body melts to the chair trying to seek comfort in it. “Mhm.. Well you know he only does it because he cares.” Sam’s words make you let out a long sigh. Your fingers rub deep circles against your temple. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t piss me off.” Sam chuckles at your slumped figure. His eyes stay on you before shifting to his hands. “He knows you’re good. Hell he thinks you’re one of the best hunters we know.. He just doesn’t want anyone else dying on him.. He lives to protect, he’s been doing it since mom died.” You look over to Sam who seemed to drift into his thoughts.

Your posture shifts so your body faces his. “Well I guess that makes three of us. We all protect each other.” Sam’s eyes move back to yours having a feeling you weren’t done talking. “That’s exactly why I’m not staying behind. Gotta make sure you two boys don’t get yourselves killed while I’m not there to save your asses.” You send a smile over to Sam who returns the look.

“I care about Dean.. I really do. More than you’d think.. just… sometimes I think he views me as someone who he has to watch over, that if he takes his eyes off of me I’ll mess up.. but I see where he’s coming from.” You add making Sam go quiet, he fully takes in all of your words before responding.

“Dean cares for you more than he can admit. Hell he looks at you like you’ve hung the moon.. Part of him is scared that he’s going to be the reason you get killed. I don’t think he thinks of it as making sure you don’t mess up, more so making sure he can protect you when you need it.” Sam explains making a smile tug at the corner of your lips. You knew his words were truthful. Thinking of Dean trying to protect you, putting everything into making sure you’re okay has your heart beating.. but part of you feels the slight ache in your chest.

“I love him..” The room goes quiet for a moment as Sam’s breathing slightly falters. Caught off guard by the sudden confession. “I think that’s what pisses me off the most.. knowing he acts this way but doesn’t do anything. Trying to hide emotions and not just allowing himself to feel something real, like he’s..” Your voice trails off. Struggling to find the correct words. “Like he’s hiding something?” Sam asks making you shake your head. “No.. like he’s not worthy of having emotions.” Sam gives you a knowing look. One full of understanding.

As he goes to add in suddenly the door comes flying open. “Sammy make sure all your shit is packed up, we’re leaving in ten.” Dean states quickly bringing his little brother to his feet and throwing his bags over his shoulders. The moment Sam walks out Deans eyes find yours.

“I didn’t.. I wasn’t.. I’m not calling you a bad hunter. I don’t want you or Sammy dying on me. Having less people on hunts reduces the risks.” He explains whilst awkwardly scratching the back of his head. “I know.. I’m just glad you said something before the drive or I definitely would’ve been purposely trying to piss you off.” A smile reaches his lips before waving you off. “Go get in the damn car before I really do leave you behind.” A laugh leaves your lips before you’re headed out to the impala. “You never thanked me for the pie!” You call out making his eyes roll. “Letting you come is good enough!”

None of you had any idea of what you were dealing with. Whatever it was, the death toll it was racking up was becoming an issue. The kills mimicked that of a werewolf but the bites resembled vampire fangs. It confused the hell out of each of you, hell even Bobby couldn’t make sense of it. The call you two had earlier ended in nothing but ‘I’m sorries’ and ‘I’ll do my best to find more’.

Dean sat on the motel bed, reading through old journals, while you sat alongside Sammy to scout out online websites for any sort of clues. “Claws like a werewolf, kills like a werewolf, but fang patterns of a vampire.. what the hell are we dealing with..” Sam repeated everything they knew, which was quite frankly very little. His hand ran through his hair as he blinked frantically at the screen in-front of him.

“It could just be a werewolf with an irregular fang pattern.” Sam says only to earn a doubtful look from you. “Nothing about it makes sense. Nothing sources claim to have found anything similar to this.” He moves closer to the screen trying to read closer up.

You notice the way his eyes keep backtracking not able to fully process the words in-front of him. Quietly you slide the computer away from him making him look up confused. “How about you go grab us some food? You look like you need a break from screens and words.” He tried to protest but the look you shot him told him it’d be better just to listen.

“Right.. I think I saw a burger joint a block or so over.” He says as he rises to his feet. Dean tosses him the keys as his eyes stay on the journal. You look up at Sam and give him a smile. “Get me anything that looks good, and get Dean something greasy.” He gives you a small nod before grabbing his jacket and heading out of the room.

Your attention falls back onto the screen trying to dig up any kind of information. The headache that was lurking in the back of your head was sure to make its presence loud and clear later on. Images of mutilated bodies scroll past your screen. All mimicking those of either werewolf attacks or vampire bites, none of which correlated to your victims.

After ten or so minutes the atmosphere shifts behind you before Dean clears his throat. He walks up behind your chair before peering over your shoulder. “Found anything?” He questions making you shake your head. “Nothing at all.. just images of common vamp attacks or werewolves..” Both of you go silent as you scroll through everything. “What about you? Anything in your dad’s old journals?” You glance up at him but only see the shake of his head. His breath lightly grazes your shoulder as the two of you stare at the screen.

Just when you go to speak another image pops up creating bile in the back of your throat. A sound of disgust escapes your lips as the image burns into your eyes. You quickly close the laptop. The image engraved itself into your mind. The way bugs made their home inside of the victims body.. the little boy. The image was close and didn’t leave much to the imagination on how he died. “Damn.. remind me never to have kids.. this shit is awful..”

When you open your eyes you see Dean’s furrowed brows. “What? It was disgusting.. you’d think I’d be desensitized by this point..” He’s quick to shake his head at your words. “No not that.. kids? You had planned on having kids?” He asks making your heart hurt a little. Yes, at some point you dreamed of having kids, but then you’d wake up and be met with the harsh reality of the world. “No.. I mean.. in different circumstances I’d love to settle down with a family of my own.. a man who’d treat me good..” Yours eyes trail Deans figure before looking away. “but never in this lifetime. Not with shit like this lurking the streets.” A sigh escapes your lips as you mess with the nail of your thumb.

“I used to dream of a different world. One with you and Sammy still present.. but in that world everything was happy. We-.. I had children of my own. A husband who did all of the heavy lifting. Hell Sammy even had a family of his own with Jess.. everything was happy. We were happy.. Then I would wake up.. have to watch the two of you kill monsters.. sometimes it was one of you who ended up dead. That’s the moment I decided I’d never have kids of my own. I can’t put their lives at risk like that. Nor give them a life where their mom probably wouldn’t stay alive..”

He watches the way your eyes sadden when they look down at the closed laptop. He knew that feeling all too well. “I used to think about quitting this job when I was younger. Finally escaping to go have a normal life. Normal family really. Now it all seems impossible.” His words make you scoff before turning in your chair to look up at him. A smile threatening to find your lips.

“You? Dean Winchester? Going all soft and having little you’s running around? I’d love to see that image. I haven’t even seen you look at a girl longer than a night.” He fakes a hurtful look. “I can get sentimental, maybe you haven’t seen me at my full potential.” He teases only bringing out your laughter. “Oh your full potential? Oh ok, I’d love to see that. You being all cheesy and loving towards an actual woman.” A satisfied sigh leaves your lips as the laughter dies down.

“Maybe I was just looking for the right girl..” You feel the way his tone shifts. When your eyes look back up at him, his look has shifted. The way he looked at you was different. His eyes softer, like he’s letting his hard mask fall down to show what’s hidden beneath. “Maybe.. she would’ve loved being there for you.. in another life, simpler life I mean.. I bet you would’ve been great Dean.” The soft tone of your voice had Dean’s heart breaking. “Yeah we would’ve.” His eyes linger on yours. Both of your gazes full of love and sadness in what could’ve been.

“You know I only yell at you because I care about you.. I don’t want you leaving. Not anytime soon.” His voice is more serious than before. You give him a small nod. “I know. That’s the same reason I want to be here.. I couldn’t live with myself if either of you died and I wasn’t there to help.. it’d eat me alive.. I’ve never held any of your emotions against you Dean. Sure i’d yell at you but I’d be a hypocrite if I really held it against you.” His eyes flickered between yours. He was looking at you like he’d crumble if he took a breath. Slowly, his body drew closer to yours, hesitantly but certain of what he wanted

The moment shattered when Sam came through the motel door. Dean stumbled away somehow going unnoticed by Sam. “I got a burger for Dean, and a specialized meal for the pickiest eater I know.” He tosses both of you a bag. “Thank you Sammy.” He notices the awkward feeling in the room. “What were you two talking about when I was gone?” Sam asked making Dean awkwardly try to come up with some excuse. “We were talking about life outside of hunting. I was saying that if monsters didn’t exist I would have children of… children..” Your brows suddenly furrow before spinning around and quickly opening the laptop.

“Y/n? What? What is it?” Dean quickly asked but your fingers just type away. You select the search tab and type in Werewolf and Vampire hybrid. Finally an image pops up following the exact description of the murders with various paragraphs of information. “Holy shit..” You whisper to yourself, the two brothers sit in confusion waiting for your explanation. “I didn’t think they could but.. hybrids.. when both Vampires and Werewolves mate giving a mix of the two creatures. I didn’t think it was physically possible.”

Dean joins you in your search for answers while Sam walks out to phone Bobby. “What kills this son of a bitch?” Dean asks leaning in close. His shoulder brushes up against yours, like he’s not afraid of being close to you for once. “I’d assume Silver would be the common denominator..” You scroll a little further before catching the paragraph listing weapons. “Pure silver, knives work to slow them down but bullets and severing the heads are primarily used in killing them.” You look over to Dean with a satisfied smile. The beating of your heart blooms when his eyes catch yours. “I knew you were useful for something.” He jokes only to groan when you punch his shoulder.

You flatten out the top of your suit before climbing out of the impala. You pull the crime scene tape over your head as you step into the horrors that lie within the home. Your eyes scan the foot traffic trying to locate someone with an authoritative look. Finally your eyes catch one of the detectives you had run into earlier on in the case.

“Any witnesses for this one? Or have we struck out this time too?” You question making him rub his forehead before turning to the curb. “Sarah Hopkins.. 18 years old. A real fixer upper if you ask me. Eyes as red as can be. Claims she saw a human figure walk into the home and leave with a blood trail behind only this time with claw. Her words don’t seem that valuable if you ask me, she looks as high as a kite.” He explains. You quickly thank him before making your way over to Sarah.

“Sarah right?” Her head whips to the side before looking up to you. “I uh.. yes that’s me.” She stands up seemingly caught off guard. “Can you tell me what exactly you saw earlier this morning?” You ask making her look around sheepishly. “I saw someone going into the house. I swear I heard growling and screaming but I was too scared to get any closer.. When they left.. that’s when I noticed the blood trail..”

You take down notes of her descriptions. “What were you doing in the area? Alone I mean.” You question as she nervously scratches her arm. “Um.. it’s.. the owner.. Nelson.. I was going to meet up with him but.. I decided not to and that’s when I saw that person.” Her eyes dart around. “Nelson.. who is he to you?” You notice the way her eyes gloss over. The panic in her breathing as she tries to think of an answer.

“Are you and Nelson.. romantically involved?” She looks down before nodding slightly. “He.. am I going to get in trouble? It’s uh.. not necessarily a real relationship.. more so um.” Her breath has grown ragged. “He gives you medication.. ones that help you get rid of all of those difficult feelings?..” a tear falls down her face as she nods. “It’s okay.. I’ll leave that part between us..”

She looked up surprised. “Really? Thank you, thank you so much.. nobodies been nice the entire time I’ve been here, I was scared I was seeing things!” She rambles out before you try calming her down. “It’s alright, I believe every word you’ve given me.. thank you.. here, give me a call if you can think of anything else to tell me or need any help.” You hand her a card with your cell on it before walking back to the impala.

“Nelson Jurrows is our victim, 20 year old drug dealer. Witness is Sarah Hopkins, 18 years old, gets supplied from Nelson. Claims a mysterious figure walked into the house and walked out trailing blood behind. She reported hearing growling noises and screaming inside..” You inform the two. “So what? We thinking drug deal gone bad? This hybrid thing finds him and kills him?” Dean asks making you shrug. “I say we look up more info on him before we trying connecting a motive.” Dean nods before putting baby in drive and heading away from the crime scene.

The three of you were once again researching, this time more focused on connections rather the creature. After spending the entirety of the day researching more victims you finally land on the most recent. “Nelson Jurrows. Held back three times his sophomore year. Pissed off a lot of people in his time there.. says here he got arrested three years back over a domestic dispute. He beat his girlfriend, Sarah Hopkins..” Sam’s words quickly grasp your attention. “Sarah?.. She would’ve been 15 years old.” Sam’s shoots you a sorrowful look before returning to his source. “Seems he has a history with violence..” Sam goes to dig deeper only for your phone to interrupt.

You quickly accept the call, “Hello?” You call out only to hear heavy breathing on the other line before screaming fades in the distance. “Sarah?! Sarah is this you?!” You stand up hearing the frantic action on the other line. “Hello? Is this the agent I talked to?! He’s here!! He’s killing us!” Her voice comes out panicked. You quickly place her on speaker and rush to grab your things. The boys quickly get the memo and grab everything. “Who? Who’s there?!” You question as she cries out.

“Jackson! Nelson’s brother! He killed my friends! He’s hunting us! He let us run around so he can find us! Please don’t let him kill me!” She cries out as wind rushes through the phone, signaling she was running. “Ok just tell me where you are, I’m on my way!” “The woods! It’s right off of Tejas road, right where the abandoned house is!” You go to reply but static hits. “Sarah? Sarah! Dean drive!”

Dean slams on his breaks as you pull up to the house. The three of you file out of the car before taking in your surroundings. It wasn’t the best moment as the moon was the only light illuminating the ground. Perfect conditions for the hybrid to sneak up and get a kill.

You didn’t know how many kids you were dealing with but the sooner you ganked the hybrid, the better chances these kids had at survival. By the way Sarah spoke you could only assume it was a friendly gathering gone wrong. Hell most were probably to shitfaced to realize what was happening. You venture around the house tripping slightly. When you look down you catch a glimpse of one of the kids. Your eyes quickly look away after noticing the hole in their chest.

Your gun is clutched in your left hand as your right clutches the machete. Both prepared to kill the creature stalking you in the night. “Are you that FBi agent?..” A shaky voice calls out before coming out from behind the bins. “Sarah? Hey hey yes it’s me.. My name is Y/n, I’m here it’s ok.” You rush to her. Her body was covered in scratches and blood, some of which didn’t seem to be her own. “Y/n.. He just started to attack everyone.. but not with any weapons.. his teeth.. they were so sharp, his nails were worse.. he tore them apart.. he let me go.. he said something about enjoying the hunt..” She trembled against your touch.

“It’s ok, me and a couple friends are here to make sure he doesn’t hurt you.. ok?” She quickly nods before a crack of branches comes from within the forest. “Stay behind me.. if anything happens, if he tries attacking us I want you to yell as loud as you can. Only and only if he attacks.” A terrified whimper escapes her lips but she ultimately nods. The two of you make your way alongside the house trying to locate either Sam or Dean.

You make sure she stays tucked behind you and closer to the house so you can protect her if you need to. The only way you know she’s behind you still if from the unsteady breaths she takes. “Ok Sarah listen to me.. what we are dealing with isn’t normal.. it’s not human.. take this.” You pull out another gun holstered in your pants and unclick the safety. “If he tries attacking us either shoot or run and yell for help.” Just as you go to hand her the gun her eyes widen drastically.

“Y/n watch out!” Her screams were loud. You barely had time to process them before a searing pain shoots through your back. The gun goes flying deep into the woods. Your body rams into the wooden building before you steady yourself. The next moment you barely had time to raise the machete before his claws reached for your face. The machete caught his hands, the force alone sent the blade into his palms. A fierce growl escapes his throat before he slashes the bloody claw against your arm. You go to swing the weapon only for him to send it flying. You could hear Sarah’s panicked screams. “Sarah run!” You yell out only for the hybrid to turn around. His attention fully shifts to the young girl.

She turns around bolting for the woods. You run over to where the gun was thrown before aiming it for his body. A loud gunshot rings out, hitting him in the shoulder blade. A pained yelp escapes his lips before he turns to you. His eyes full of rage before he’s sprinting at you. Your next shot grazes his neck but it’s not enough to kill him.

What you desperately needed was the machete that was thrown from your grasp. A strangled scream escape your lips as an intense pressure hits your stomach. You feel the way his nails pierce through your skin, clawing its way inside of you. His fingers shift only intensifying the agony. His other hand squeezes your throat making you gasp for air.

“Thought the Winchester’s little play toy was supposed to be strong?” He chuckles drawing closer to your neck. His teeth graze your neck nicking it slightly. A disgusted groan escapes your lips before wincing. “Any last words? Wouldn’t want the last thing your pretty mouth do be screaming for help that’s not coming.” He tilts his head tauntingly. “Go to hell..” He scoffs with a wide grin. “Should’ve chose better.” His hand reached up giving you the opportunity to raise your gun. By the time he noticed his hand had already swiped for your chest. The bullet you shot goes straight through his head.

His body drops leaving your slumped against the house. You gasp for air as your hand reaches up to find just below your throat slit wide open. Blood oozed from both your chest and stomach. The wounds were definitely severe. One of your hands steadied the blood flow on your chest and the other holds your stomach. You couldn’t tell what hurt the most.

“Y/n! Where are you! Y/n!” A voice comes fading in from the distance. “Here.. I’m.. over here..!” You attempt to yell but the pain has your sliding closer to the ground. Just before you fully hit the ground the voice grows louder. “I’m here!” You managed to scream out before pain engulfed you.

Any strength you had in your leg gives out as you hit the ground. Your back was pressed against the wooden building trying to keep yourself focused on thinking. “Y/n!?” The voice grows more urgent and scared the closer it gets. You turn your head to the side seeing two blurred figures running toward you. The closer it gets the more they merge until you make out Dean’s body. Everything drops beside him as he sprints towards you. “NO! No no no!” He yells before sliding infront of you. His hand replaces yours and keeps pressure applied to your chest, not noticing the bleeding in your stomach.

“I killed the hybrid.. Sarah.. Sarah is she safe?..” You gasp out trying to push past the pain. “Sammy has her, she’s going to be alright, you’re going to be alright.. you’re.. it’s going to be okay..” You smile and nod at his words only to feel the pulsing pain throughout your body. Your eyes close trying to focus on pushing away the pain. When you reopen them you see the way Dean’s eyes tear up. A wince finds your lips. “Dammit..” You whisper making him tense. “What, what is it?” He panics trying to see where else you are hurt. “It’s not that.. it’s.. dammit you were right.. i guess I can’t help but play the hero..” A sad laugh escapes your lips before a cough follows. Your dry lips get covered with blood filling your mouth.

“No don’t say that.. it’s ok, I’m going to get you some help. SAM! We are going to get you help! SAMMY!” Dean yells out as your hand moves up to hold his wrist. “It was you Dean..” His eyes show pure confusion and pain in them. “What?” His eyes search yours trying to make sure they’re still on him. “The man I imagined settling down with.. I didn’t describe you with a family.. it’s because I always imagined having one with you..” You managed to choke all of that out before tears engulf you.

“Oh sweetheart I couldn’t imagine anyone else being a better mother than you.. that’s exactly why you need to hang on…” His head rest against your forehead as you struggle to keep it up. “I love you Dean.. I have to say it now..” A quiet cry escapes his lips. “I love you more than you could ever imagine.. it’s not your fault.. I wanted to be here.. with you.. I’m so happy to be here with you.. wherever you go.. I’m happy Dean.. that I’m here with you while I di-” “don’t.. do say that.. you’re not dying..” He cries out making you smile sadly.

“Dean.. I am..” You look down to where your hands held your shirt. He quickly pulls it up to reveal the gaping wound. You cry out as the fabric moves back over the wound. “Please Dean!.. just say it back.. I need to hear it.. I-I need to..” Both of you have been reduced to tears. You clutch onto his shirt trying to find something to keep you grounded.

“I love you so goddamn much it hurts. Everyday I’m scared of it. Scared of loving someone so much. Knowing that I can’t have you with me forever. Dammit you’ve changed everything inside of me. I didn’t know I was capable of feeling like this until I met you.. from the very first moment I saw you I knew you’d crush me..” You can’t help the sobs escaping your lips as Dean continues.

“I love you so much it hurts.. and it scares me.. I never meant for you to get hurt.” He sniffs trying to fight off the tears threatening to rain down. “I know Dean.. I always knew I’d go out on the job.. it was just a matter of when and how.. I’m just thankful it’s here with you.. I don’t ever wanna be alone.. please.. just stay here.. just for the moment..” You shudder as your body grows weaker.

“Dean?! Y/n?!” Sam’s voice fills your ears. “I want.. to say goodbye.. to both of you.” Your hand trembles against his arm struggling to keep pressure on your wound. Sam came running around the corner only to halt the moment he saw the two of you. “Hey Sammy..” You smile as tears flow down your cheeks. “No..” His brows furrow before he rushes over to kneel beside you. “I told him.. about what we talked about.. goddammit..” The tears have you choking up as you try to speak. Tears have already found Sam’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.. I know both of you wanted me to stay behind.. I know.. I’m a stubborn bitch… but dammit I love you boys.. take care of him would you Sammy?..” You ask only for him to nod. He doesn’t try to hold back any emotions. “Can I talk to Dean.. alone..” You asks before dozing off. Sam hesitates before getting up. “I love you..” He says making you smile. “Go take care of Sarah.. she needs.. mm.. she needs someone to be with her.” He nods before heading away in tears.

Deans hand reaches up to wipe the blood from your lips. “Such.. a gentleman..” You say slowly making him laugh bittersweetly. His eyes can’t seem to look anywhere else but your own. “I can’t seem to get enough of those eyes of yours.. can’t get enough of them..” Your voice was quiet and weak. “I think that’s what I truly fell in love with..” Your hand slips from his as everything becomes too heavy. He tries steadying your body as the life fades from you, quicker than before. “I’ll see you soon.. Dean..” With every ounce of strength you have left, you move your head to press your lips against his. He kisses back trying to take in every last feeling of you. Knowing when he pulls away it will all be gone.. the moment your body goes limp he pulls away full on sobbing with you in his arms. No one around to witness the mess you’ve made him.

Dean sat there with you in his arms for an hour.

He prayed to God, he prayed to Cas, he prayed to anyone listening, begging for them to save you. To bring you back to him.

One full hour of tearful pleading.

Sam had come back to tell him the police were coming to get Sarah so they had to leave. He’d helped carry your body back to the car. Dean refused to leave you, he also chose a proper burial for you. From the moment he saw you crumpling to the ground he knew he’d be doing everything to get you back. So instead of burning your body, he put you in a grave. After all you would need a body to return to.

Cas had heard his prayers. The desperation in Dean’s voice as he pleaded for you to be saved and returned to him. The cries and begging that Dean spouted out. He’d listened to every word. Eventually he managed to locate you.

Dean promised he’d get you back. That he wouldn’t let you die.

His promise held true as you clawed your way out of the dirt containing your body.

You were coming home.

A/n: Welp I guess I love to make myself cry.. I hope you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I’m a sucker for angst but I wasn’t just going to let you stay dead, that’s not how Supernatural works ;). I’m debating writing a part 2 if enough people want it. If there are any spelling errors just let me know and I’ll work to fix them :)

[my-hyperfixation-stories]

Lost In Your Eyes

Summary: Dean Winchester has the worlds most beautiful eyes. You find yourself trying to get a good look but Dean can’t hold still for one second so you make him. Needless to say he was confused yet a little turned on by your determination.

Warnings: Flirting, PnV, Oral Sex(f! Rec), unprotected sex, Switch!Dean, Dean being in love with Reader, heavy heavy eye contact, Dean Winchester(he’s definitely a warning), dirty talk. Lmk if I missed anything

The words of your computer managed to blend together. The crease between your brows was so deep it was starting to ache from the amount of tension lying beneath it. You and Dean had been researching for about an hour. Usually your study partner was Sammy (the one who actually gave a shit about what you were reading) but he had a few leads to follow up on. This left you and Dean alone in the motel to piece together the mysterious monster you were dealing with.

Except Dean has yet to look at a single document, and instead he’s been spouting off on random shows he’s been watching and mixing in flirtatious comments here and there. All the while stuffing his face with some pie you had picked up on your way back from the crime scene.

You find yourself massaging between your brows trying everything to release the tension building in your head. “You alright over there? Don’t tell me you’re worn out all ready, we just started.” Dean teased with his infamous grin. A deadpan expression crossed you face as you look up at him. “‘I..’ ‘I.’ There isn’t a ‘we’ Dean. You’ve been talking for the past hour or so while I’ve been nose deep in every source I can find.. if Sam wasn’t gone I would send you to the drug store to get me some ibuprofen..” You set the computer aside and stretch out your hunched over back. A few cracks sound out providing you a split second of relief before a throbbing sensation shoots through your head.

“Here since you’re clearly better at this than I am, I’ll walk over to the gas station across the street and see if I can find anything for you. That alright sweetheart?” For the most part he sounded concerned but the last part had a teasing undertone about it which sent your eyes rolling. The ache strengthened by the action sending your eyes shut. “Please.. I need something if I’m going to find more answers..” You groan, pushing against your temples to stimulate some relief. “I’ll be right back, don’t miss me too much!” He shot you a wink as he headed out. On his way out you noticed how the sun glistened over his eyes. You could’ve sworn you saw the most breathtaking shade of green radiate from them but it could be the agonizing pain in your head making you hallucinate.

You loved Dean to hell and back but shit was he annoying when it came down to researching. He almost never paid attention to the words and mostly listened to the key points you or Sam dug up. Nonetheless he was incredibly aware of when you needed a break. Which is why he was marching over to the gas station to find some medicine to kill the headache you have. When he got back he decided it was time for him to take over. Despite your displeasure he practically forced you down on the bed and snatched the laptop. He sat down beside you to read out some information that you had been desperately trying to find. Around an hour later your headache finally subsided.

You move your eyes to gaze up at Dean. He was propped up against the headboard staring intently at the device. His chin rested in between his fingers as he scanned the sources. The glow of the laptop brought out the same green hue in his eyes. The green flannel he was wearing seemed to make his eye color truly pop. And it was affecting you badly. Maybe it was the way he’d taken over for you, or how he was still occasionally rambling yet staying on topic. But his eyes really sealed the deal for you. You were completely infatuated by the view.

“Right.. so if we are dealing with one, then it says silver is effective in killing it.” He scrolls a little farther before your voice quietly calls his name. “Bullets preferably but blades also work.” He continues “Deann..” You call out again but his entire focus seemed to be on the screen. “Oh here it says-” you cut him off by grabbing his cheeks with one hand and forcing him to look at you. A confused look crosses his features before amusement arises. “What is this about it?..” He says muffled as his lips form a pout from the way you were holding his face. “Did I ever tell you I love your eyes?.. you really need to wear green more often.. it suits you..” You whisper but feel the heat beneath your fingers grow. You had managed to fluster THE Dean Winchester.

His hand reached up and lightly grabbed your wrist. “Oh sweetheart, I love it when you get so dominant.” A grin spreads throughout his face. The look makes you press your thighs together. “Oh really? Do you now?” You tease making him raise a brow. “Oh I think you know exactly what I’m talking about. From experience.” A smile finds your lips before you move to close the laptop on his lap. “I don’t know about you, but I for one want to take a little break from all those articles.. don’t you?” You didn’t give him time to answer before you move yourself to straddle his waist. A huff leaves his mouth as you add pressure to his hips. His hands find your waist as you settle yourself. “I could use a refresher..”

A satisfied look crosses your face while Dean goes to add in some cheeky remark. Before any words leave his lips, your head dips down and captures his lips with yours. A low groan escapes his throat as your hips roll against his.

It has been a hot minute since you and Dean had done anything intimate. It was hard when you constantly had Sam lingering or a case that was needing to be solved. But since you gathered all the information you could, nothing really needed to be done. Giving you the perfect opportunity to have your way with him.

You push away his unbuttoned flannel before running your hands underneath his shirt. The skin beneath your fingers tenses at the sudden coldness of your hands. He pulls back to take a breath but in the haziness of the kiss, your lips travel to his neck. “I affect you this much huh? My ego can’t handle this you know that?” He chuckles before letting his head fall back giving you more access to his neck.

He loved the warm feeling sprouting beneath your lips. When you pull away his hand travels up your back before settling on your nape. He pulls you down into another heated kiss. This one was full of pawing hands and desperate attempts to remove clothing.

He’d managed to remove your shirt leaving you in a fitted tank top and shorts. Next, you had worked on removing your shorts throwing them off to the side. Your hands find themself resting on his chest feeling the quick beat of his heart.

You lean down to his ear as you find the bottom of his shirt with your hands. “I want you looking at me the entire time.. right with those pretty eyes of yours.” The whispery tone finds Dean before you pull off his shirt. His necklace lays against his bare skin as he looks up at you. His breaths were heavy and his lips slightly part in shock.

His green orbs follow you, not once leaving. “The things you do to me..” He says breathlessly earning a scoff from you accompanied by a pleased smile. “What about the things you’ll do for me?..” He watches your gaze trail his body before reaching where your bodies touch. Your hand moves gently up his body before stopping at his chin. Your finger graze along his bottom lip. “Put these to use for me?.. if you really want to help me relieve some tension.” A look of hunger consumes his expression. His eyes look up at you half lidded before he begins trail your figure. Stopping when we sees the wet patch between your thighs.

A groan leaves his lips as he closes his eyes. When he opens them he looks back up to you. “I’ll do anything that makes you happy..” He says ready to do anything you please. A smile finds your lips before you move off of him. He swiftly swaps positions with you so he can kiss down your body. “You’re so beautiful..” His lips press against the skin peaking out from beneath your tank. Your hands raise letting him know you want it off. He puts his hands under the tank top finally pulling it off.

His eyes find your chest before lowering his head to press a hungry kiss against your breast. He lightly sucks the delicate skin leaving a mark behind. He goes to give attention to the next one but an unexpected groan leaves his lips as you lightly pull back his hair to make him look up at you. “Eyes. on. me. pretty boy.. I want to see those eyes.” This time when he lowers his head to kiss your other breast his eyes stay directly on yours. He watches your features change with each movement he makes. His favorite part might be the way your breath falters when he lightly sucks on yours skin.

He lets his hand find your panty line. His fingers loop along the side. He moves them along the outer edge before pushing them to the side. He lets one finger run along your folds feeling the wetness that coats his fingers. “All for me?.. It’s very flattering” You playfully roll your eyes. “You gonna do something about it or just sit there lookin pretty?” Your voice was laced with a seductive tone only making the tent in Dean’s pants grow. He begrudgingly leaves your breast venturing further down. “Is this where you want me? Right here sweetheart?” You shoot him a warning look reminding him that you’re the one making the calls this time.

“Soaking fucking wet.. just for me..” He says to no one in particular. His mind racing as his eyes stay on yours. When you go to make another comment, his finger dips inside of you. A moan leaves your lips at the unexpected penetration. “Fuck Dean..” You let out a shuddered breath. His thumb moves to rub against your clothed clit. The texture leaves a shot of pleasure up your body. “Like that?.. Oh baby i know you do.” You shoot him and angry look but in return his mouth dips down to lick between your folds. His eyes stay glued to yours. “This is what you wanted? For me to devour you? Am I doing it right? Or was it like this?” He takes off your panties and lightly sucks your clit letting a moan escape your lips. “There it is.” He chuckles before returning to lick between your folds.

A groan leaves his lips sending vibrations through you. “You’re such a fucking tease” You gasp out as your legs squirm. His free hand grips your thigh pushing it to the side. “Be good for me and I’ll be good for you.. keep these spread.” His words make your heart beat quicken. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Dean Winchester was between your thighs telling you that he will be good for you, while looking up at you with his fucking beautiful ass eyes. That was enough to push another moan through your lips. “Oh you like that? When I talk all sweet to you? You like feeling like a good girl don’t you?” He laughs before moving your legs up over his shoulders. This gives him closer access to what he desires most.

His tongues dips into you before he turns into a man starved. By this point moans were practically flowing from your lips. “Fuck Dean!..” You groan as your eyes press shut. “Ah ah, I look at you, you have to look at me.” He says pulling your attention back down to him. “I fucking hate you.” Your moans quickly disprove your words. You feel his shitty grin against you. He feels the way you squirm beneath him letting him know your close. While his tongues dips into tortures your hole he lets his fingers rub against your clit. The pleasure only seems to build along with the pressure in your lower stomach. “Fuck Dean just like that.. fuck!” You moan out before everything seems to snap. “Shit! Fuck..” You moan out as your orgasm overcomes you.

Sinful sounds escape Dean’s lips as he cleans up the mess. “So filthy.. so messy making me clean up for you.” He clicks his tongue but you’re too caught up in your emotions to respond. He moves back up so he’s hovering above you. His necklace hangs from his neck falling between the valley of your breast. “You gonna let me treat you good now? Or are you still feeling demanding? Your choice princess.” He waits for a response only for you to flip around ontop of him.

His brows raise caught off guard before your hand pushes against his chest to keep him down. “I still have a few things in mind.” You say checking out his flustered state. A pink hue seems to cover his heated face. “Oh yeah?.. mind telling me what that is?.” He raises a brow. You let out a sweet smile before leaning forward. “Take your pants off and I’ll show you..” You move to the side to give him room. With a satisfied look he undoes his belt and pushes off the jeans. They fall to the ground with a clank. “What’s the plan?” He puts his hands behind his head as you move back above him. Your hand reaches down grabbing his length. Slowly pumping it to spread his precum down it.

“I’m going to ride your dick until all you can remember is my name.” The filthy words escape your mouth going straight to his length. “Fuck you know how to charm a man.” He huffs out a chuckle before a low moan leaves his lips. You lowered yourself onto him. Both of your moans meld together. You move along half of his dick giving yourself some time to adjust to the full length. Eventually you bottom out letting his hips touch yours.

Your hand reaches down to hold yourself steady. It finds its place on his pubic bone sending all sorts of feelings through Dean. His eyes couldn’t help but take it the full sight. The way you were bouncing yourself on the length of his dick. The looks of pleasure tainting your expressions. The way your lips part to let out moans. God he loved you. Everything infront of him was perfection. Down to the imperfections. Somehow you made everything work, and turned it ten times sexier. A groan leaves his lips as he feels you tighten against him.

“Look me in the fucking eyes Dean.. those eyes are what started this.. keep them focused.” You demand with moans occasionally cutting you off. Eventually you shift into rocking your hips against his to stimulate any sort of pleasure. Your legs were growing weak. You knew if you gave up Dean would tease you relentlessly. “Y/n.. shit!” He moans out as you shift positions. Now your body is pressed against his as your lower half slaps against his. The sound was filthy. He couldn’t focus on anything but the way your breast pressed against his chest. The skin sticks together from the heat radiating from your bodies.

As your eyes move back to meet his, you have the urge to press your lips against his, so you do. The other kisses didn’t compare to this. This one was full of lust and passion. Both of your tongues clashed together needing to feel everything about each other. Your moans mush together against each other’s mouths. Your hips move faster trying everything in your power to push through. Pain fills your thighs from the constant movement making you falter. Your moans only increase into desperation.

Dean seemed to clock this immediately because before you know it he is pounding up into you. His arms lock around your waist keeping you steady as he thrusts up relentlessly. “Fuck Dean! Holy shit! Please please please I’m almost there!” You whine out as grunts fill his mouth. Both of your eyes have completely shut as pleasure consumes you. His pace doesn’t change once. “I fucking love you.. I love you so goddamn much..” He grumbles out as he feels himself coming undone. Your heart swells from the intimacy of the situation but your thoughts are cut off by the band snapping inside of you. Upon feeling this Dean is quick to follow. Loud tortured moans escape your lips as the two of you move to work through your orgasms. Soon enough the only thing that fills the air is both of you gasping for air.

Dean takes a moment before pulling out of you. Your body lays against his having no energy to move. “Shit.. I think that was the hottest thing we have ever done..” Dean announces pulling a laugh from your lips. “No shit..” The two of you finally catch your breath before you move off of him. You tuck yourself against his side letting him wrap an arm around you. “So.. what was the thing with my eyes about? That’s never been a thing before.” He asks as embarrassment engulfs you. “I don’t know.. you were walking out the door earlier and.. I guess the sun hit you just right and your eyes looked like the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen..”

Suddenly you pull back and look directly at him. “You better not let any of that get to your head!” You warn him making him genuinely laugh in return. “Ok ok!” He playfully puts his hands up as his eyes follow yours. “They are like.. the perfect shade of green.. speaking of.. we need to buy you more green shirts, it really makes the color pop.” You admit making his smile grow. “So you’re saying if I wear more green then you’ll do more stuff like that? Done deal right there.” You playfully hit his chest before slumping back down onto the bed. “We should definitely get dressed before Sam gets back. It’s bad enough that the motel is going to smell like absolute filthy sex when he gets back, might as well spare him the visual.” You announce and as if on cue that sound of the impala fades in.

Thank you to everyone who took time to read this! Dean Winchester has been clouding my thoughts as of recently and I just need to let it all out somewhere. I hope you find this just as entertaining as I did. If I missed any warnings or anything is misspelled please let me know and I’ll work to fix it. THANK YOU AGAINNN!!! ❤️

[my-hyperfixation-stories]

Merry Christmas

Summary: Y/n and Eddie both work a grueling Christmas Eve shift that seemed filled with unfathomable accidents. It’s worth it when they get to celebrate Christmas with Chris and feel the true love that follows Christmas.

Warnings: 18+ Content!!! Morning sex, oral (F! Rec), depiction of stab wounds/injuries, no death or major character injuries.

Working on Christmas Eve was never fun. Luckily for both Y/n and Eddie, he managed to be able to shorten both of their shifts today so they can make it back to Christopher before the end of the day. Unfortunately that meant waking up unnaturally early. Eddie’s alarm clock was a brutal reminder of that.

The two of them grumble awake as Eddie cuts off the noise. “Merry Christmas..” She smile up at him tiredly. His own smile reaches his face as he leans closer to her. His lips press against hers before he lays back onto the bed. He pulls the blanket off, hoping the cool air against his skin will help wake him up more. “I have a feeling this is going to be a very long day..” he sighs, letting his eyes train on the ceiling. She shifts around letting her hand drape along his chest. “I’m sure Christopher will be thanking you for making it back in time for the most important part.. thanks to your smooth talking abilities with Cap..” He turns his head to look down at her, his signature grin was displayed on his face.

“I find myself being very persuasive.. in many ways.” He moved her so she was laying ontop of him, his hands resting on her hips that were clothed only by a nice pair of panties. “Oh really now? How persuasive?” She moves closer to him, brushing her lips against his. “I think you know exactly how much.” He mumbles as his lips graze hers with every word. She hums in response before pressing her lips against his with a small giggle. Eddie’s hands move down pulling her closer. Her hands tangle in his hair, pulling Eddie closer to her. His hands massage her hips, she could feel him playing with the lace of her underwear.

Just as he hooked his fingers under the lace, the second alarm clock blares. The two groan as she moves to hit the clock. “How about we skip your little morning work out..” she moves closer to his ear. “I have another work out that you can do..” he raises a brow, his eyes move along her figure. “Sounds far better than what I had planned..” his hands rub up the sides of her body, slipping underneath her shirt, slightly moving it upward. She lifts her hands allowing him to pull it off her body. The second it’s gone she quickly reconnects her lips with his. Eddie moves his hands cupping her breast. His hands fit perfectly around her as he massages her. His lips trail down to her jaw.

He shifts their positions so now he’s hovering above her. “Whose Chris staying with while we are gone..” she breathes out as his lips continue to attack her throat. “Carla is staying here.. she’s coming in 20 minutes.” She moves her legs around his waist pulling him down to be closer than they already were. “Than you better hurry up.. I for one want to have a nice warm shower after this..” he pulls away to look down at her. “You sure you can stay quiet? I don’t want Christopher waking up because you can’t keep hushed.” He asks as he slowly pulls down her underwear letting it fall off the side of the bed. “No promises.” he chuckles before moving down her body.

“Ohh I get the full package for Christmas..” he grins up at her. “Oh you know it.. Christmas is coming early for you.” She laughs before he pressing a kiss between her legs, pulling a gasp from her lips. A quiet moan leaves her lips as his tongue licks a long stripe between her folds. His morning stubble scraping lightly against her skin as his mouth moves delicately against where she needed him most. When his fingers entered the picture, she found her thighs closing against his head. His laugh sends vibrations through her body.

He pushes her thighs down securing them in place as his pace quickens. She moves her hand over her lips as an attempt to quiet her moans. She feels the familiar build up in her body signaling that she was close. “Fuck.. Eddie I’m almost.. almost there please.. please.” Her free hand found his hair letting her fingers guide through it. A sudden jolt of pleasure rushed through her body making her fist Eddie’s hair. He groans at the sudden pressure but doesn’t stop his pace as she comes undone by his touch. “Eddie.” She moans out before finally coming down from her high.

His lips move up her body as she whines from all the contact. “Merry Christmas..” he mumbled against her skin. He shuffles out of his boxers before he makes his way back to her lips. She smiles up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Do we have to go to work.. we could just stay here all.. like this.” She looks up at him through her lashes. “As much as I would love every part of that.. we can’t both leave the 118 hanging.” His hands trail her thighs as he pulls her in. “Let’s make the most of what time we have..” Her smile gave him the exact response he was looking for. He couldn’t help but let his eyes trail her features for a moment. “How do you look so beautiful with how crazy you sleep.” He chuckles as his lips move against her neck. “I don’t think tangled hair and smudged makeup is particularly sexy” she jokes making him raise his brows. “Really? Cause I think any part of you no matter what is very-” “Eddie.. enough with the words please.. I need you.” she warns making his demeanor shift. His lips return to her skin as his hand moves between her legs. She lets out a soft moan as her head rests against Eddie’s. “Please Eddie.. please.”

Finally he succumbed to her pleas, giving her exactly what she needed. In a swift motion she feels him slip inside of her. She lets out a quick gasp, Eddie’s lips quickly found hers, silencing any noises she may produce. He feels her moans against his lips as his hips move against hers. Her fingers grip at his shoulders pulling him down to her. His body rocked against hers rhythmically filling them both with pure pleasure. He knew time was getting cut shorter and shorter so his hips quickened their pace sending her nails, scraping down his back.

“Does that make you feel good? Hmm.. do I make you feel good?” He grunts as she tightens around him. “So good Eddie, please please… more” she whines out, he obliges to her begs. The two felt themselves driving over the edge. Her legs were nearly trembling around him as pleasure consumed her every thought. Their hands pawed at each other trying to bring themselves even closer. Eddie clashes his lips with hers as the two spill over the edge. Her moans were muffled by his lips. She pulled away gasping for air as he removes himself.

His eyes glide over to the clock, “shit we have to hurry we only have a couple minutes..” he puts on the shorts that were thrown of the bed and gives Y/n a spare shirt of his so they can venture off to the bathroom across the hall. Once he undresses the two of them once more, he lets her step in first before turning on the water. The warmth engulfed the two. “I wish we could just stay like this for the rest of the day.. and it’s Christmas Eve.. everything is always so hectic on Christmas Eve..” she groans, letting her head fall onto Eddie’s shoulder as he washes his hair. “Oh I’m aware, but if we want to give Chris the Christmas he deserves then we need to do this.. for him.” She smiles up at Eddie, bringing her hand to caress his cheek. “Your such a good Dad, Eddie.. I love you..” He grins down at her pulling her in by her hips. “Oh I love you too.” His lips capture hers as they enjoy the warm shower.

Arriving at work was easier than expected, the atmosphere was nice, everything was decorated and there was a stand set up for Christmas donations. Everything screamed, Christmas Spirit. Eddie walked in soon after Y/n and made his way behind her. He leaned down whispering in her ear “I’m going to grab us some coffee, you want the usual?” She turns her head with a smile. “You know I do.” He flashes her a small smile before heading off to the kitchen.

She goes up to her locker yawning as she sets down her bag. “You look like you’ve had an eventful morning?” Hen states as she walks up beside y/n. She turns to face Hen with a sheepish smile. “I guess you can say Santa gave me an early Christmas gift.” Hen raises a brow as she laughs at Y/n’s words. Eddie walks up behind Y/n with two coffees in hand. “Here you go, I’m sure you’ll need it for the day we are going to have.” He chuckles as he sets his coffee on the top of his locker so he can set down his things. “Morning Santa.” Hen teases making Y/n laugh only earning a confused look from Eddie. “Did I miss something?” He looks at the two who were holding back their laughter. “No, thank you Eddie.” She raises her coffee before walking off with Hen, leaving behind a confused Eddie.

Only a select few of people at the 118 knew about Eddie’s relationship with Y/n. It was easier to keep it hidden from the higher ups so neither of them faced skepticism that they couldn’t handle their jobs while together. The only people that knew were the ones closest to both Eddie and Y/n. So things were pretty low key between the two of them when they were working.

Buck stumbled into the kitchen, groaning as he rubbed his eyes. “What’s got you so grumpy this morning?” Chimney asks as Buck passes him. “I fell down my stairs, I forgot I had socks on.. my apartment is wayy too cold.” He grabs a bag of peas from the freezer letting in sit on his elbow. Y/n and Hen both head up to the kitchen seeing Buck icing his elbow. “What did you do?” Y/n asks taking a donut from Chimney’s box. Only for a him to weakly protest in return. “Hey!” She takes a bite with a smile on her face, before looking at Buck. “He fell down the stairs at his apartment and needs to ice his wittle elbow.” Chim says in a mocking manner. Both Y/n and Hen share a laugh as Buck rolls his eyes. Just as Y/n takes a seat the alarm rings out. “Oh come on.. it’s two in the morning..” Buck groans as everyone stands up and rushes to the engine and ambulance.

Eddie takes a seat beside Buck, Y/n takes a spot across from the two. Chim sits beside Y/n and some other night shift workers fill up the empty spots. “We are looking at an adult male with a stab wound, the object is still inserted into the abdomen. He’s fully conscious and hasn’t appeared to have lost a concerning amount of blood.” Dispatch informs them through the radio. A silence fill the air as dispatch continues. “The subject says he was stabbed by-”

“A reindeer?.. I thought Halloween was where the weird stuff happened.” Y/n says as the view of a man pierced by a plastic reindeer comes into view. “Sir can you tell us your name?” Hen asks as Y/n and Chimney look over the man’s injuries. “Keegan..” the guy winces as he speaks. “Alright Keegan, you don’t appear to have struck any major arteries, the blood is slow which is a very good sign.” “Eddie get the saw, Buck you get the backboard ready.” Bobby orders and the two quickly move.

“Sir can you wiggle your toes for me?” Y/n asks while her eyes train on his feet. She lets out a sigh of relief when his shoes lifts. “No damage to the spine, you are one lucky man Keegan.” He groans “I don’t feel very lucky..” She laughs at his response “I’m sure you don’t, Keegan I’m going to need you to stay as still as possible while we remove the head.” He lets out a disapproving groan. “This cost a fortune.” “If we don’t cut it then we can’t get you transported safely.” Hen says making him look away. Buck takes the saw to the upper neck of the reindeer decor. The saw glides through and Eddie, Chimney, and Y/n all lower him onto the backboard.

“Keegan! I told you to come in an hour ago, oh my god how did you do this!” A woman who appears to be his wife, rushes out from the house. “Is he going to be ok?” She looks at Eddie worriedly. “He hasn’t taken any major damage, we will bring him to the hospital for the doctors to remove the antlers.” The wife gets into the ambulance after they load him up. “I told you we didn’t need those damn reindeer. We will only have them up for a day.” The doors shut leaving Chimney to hear the wrath of the angry and worried wife. Eddie goes beside Y/n and leans down to her ear. “We don’t have any reindeer antlers laying around the house.. do we?” She laughs at his question. “Unless you bought some then no, we do not.”

That wasn’t even the weirdest call of the shift, a man somehow got turned into a human snow man, another guy got hung up in tree lights and dangled upside down for hours, and a Santa fell off of a roof trying to break in to someone’s chimney. By the last hour of the shift, everyone was completely exhausted. A shared silence filled the station as they struggled to stay awake. Only for that silence to be interrupted by a chattery Buck. “Do you think that guy really believed he was Santa? I mean he seemed very adamant on not getting arrested, he straight told us “You’re ruining Christmas for all of the children!” Then threatened to send his elves after me.. am I going to get attacked?” Buck’s faced quickly turns worried. “No buck.. he was a drunk man who happened to be in a big Christmas spirit.” Hen says only partially calming Buck down.

“Hey Eddie you have a visitor.” Bobby says making Eddie rise to his feet to see who was there. “Christopher!” Eddie yells out before making his way down the stairs. Y/n leaned against the bottom of the stairwell as Carla brought Chris over to Eddie. “He has been talking non stop about visiting the firehouse, he tried bringing half of his toys down here to donate, but I told him he would have to check with you before doing any of that.” Carla explained, Eddie went to go hug Chris but the boy went straight past him.

“Y/n!” He yelled out making his way to her. “Hey Chris! Isn’t this a nice Christmas gift!” She smiles as Chris pulls her into a hug. “I wanted to see you. I didn’t see you before I went to bed.. dad made me go to bed early.” Chris huffed out making her smile. “Well I’m glad you came down here” as she went to continue, uncle Buck was spotted behind her. “Buck!” Chris yelled out quickly forgetting about Y/n. She laughs as Buck comes down to give Christopher the biggest hug yet. She walks over to Eddie and Carla. “Well at least we know who his favorite is.” They all look over at the two who wore the biggest smiles on their face. “I don’t know, he’s been talking non stop about you all day. He’s very excited for tomorrow.” Carla explains as Buck takes Chris up to everyone else. “I’m glad, I made sure to wrap everything in his favorite wrapping paper.” Y/n says making Eddie look over to her. A fond smile reaches his lips as he sees her watching Chris with nothing but love in her eyes.

“We will be home soon Buddy, then we will watch some movies while we get ready for tomorrow.” Eddie says as Carla and Chris get ready to leave the station. “Bye Y/n! Bye Buck!” Chris shouts, waving as Carla walks with him out the door. “Looks like I’ve finally outranked you.” Y/n says turning in her heels to smile up at Eddie. “Yeah yeah..” he says jokingly. “Don’t get too cocky, I can still return your present.” He teases making her raise a brow. “My present huh? And I thought this morning was all you had in you.” She fires back making him chuckle. “This one is a little more pricey than that.”

“Chris I’m home!” Eddie calls out while he sets all of his things down. “Dad!” Eddie smiles to himself as he hears Chris coming from his room. Chris goes up to him giving him a hug before looking up at his dad. “Where’s Y/n?” He asks furrowing his brows together. “She’s picking up some dinner for tonight she will be here soon.” Chris smiles at his dad’s words. “Good, she promised to watch Home Alone with me.” And with those words, keys were heard at the front door.

It took a minute for everything to get cooked and eaten but by the time 10 hit all three of them were on the couch watching Home Alone. Chris had insisted on sitting between the two which they ultimately allowed. Y/n thought that he would’ve lasted until at least the second movie but not even halfway through the first he was already passed out. Eddie had managed to move him to his room without waking him up and made it back just as the movie ended. “For someone who was so excited for that movie he sure fell asleep fast.” She jokes earning a quiet laugh from Eddie. “Mind helping me get all of the presents set out?” Eddie asked making her get up from her comfortable spot on the couch.

She piled various toys and games into her arms taking them from Eddie’s closet into the living room. After around 5 trips and 30 minutes everything was neatly placed and organized. Y/n takes a step back to admire the work she and Eddie had done. “He’s going to be over the moon in the morning.” She smiles widely at the thought of his reaction before a yawn overcomes her. She takes a glance at the clock and it somehow had already made it to 12 am. She turns to Eddie with enthusiasm. “Merry Christmas..” her heart drops as she turns around. Instead of looking up at him she found herself gazing down.

Eddie had lowered to his knee pulling a small box from his pajama pocket. “Eddie..” She says quietly and in disbelief. “Y/n.” He responds letting the tension build in the air. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. I planned on getting you so much more gifts but rings really do put a dent in Christmas budget.. I love you.. both me and Chris have been the happiest we’ve ever been since you’ve joined our lives. You make me feel complete, in every way possible.” His words have already reduced her into complete tears. Her hand covered her chest making sure it wouldn’t beat out of her chest. “I knew I’d end up doing this from the moment I saw how deeply you cared for both me and Chris. I don’t want that ever going away. Y/n… will you marry me?..” A worried yet tearful look crosses Eddie’s face as he asks the final question.

It takes her a moment to push down the lump in her throat before she gasps out a response. “Is that even a question? Yes of course I’ll marry you.” She cries out as he instantly rises to his feet pulling her in to a tight embrace. Tears instantly soak his shirt as she buries her face into his shoulder. “Dammit, now my gift isn’t going to compare in the slightest” She playfully hits his shoulder as he pulls away. He takes her hand in his and slides the ring onto her finger. “Any gift is perfect. But I do have one more.” He says fishing through his other pocket while she admires the beautiful ring. “It’s just a simple band so you don’t have to worry about losing it at work.” He says giving her another ring that was safer for the work environment. “Dammit Eddie, I love you.” She pulls him into another hug before moving to press her lips against his. The moment was full of nothing but love and a bunch of tears.

A/n: I’m thinking of making a part two of the actual wedding itself if that’s something you guys would be interested in. This story has been sitting in my drafts since Christmas but I finally had motivation to finish it(wayyyy too late). If anyone has any ideas for a part two I’m open to suggestions. Also I’m not the best at proofreading so if you see any spelling errors, no you didn’t.