#it's been an ask or three every day since the season ended and i'm just kinda DoneTM lol

[quietwingsinthesky]

Hiiiii! So, a few days ago you were talking about the whole thing with Amy, Rory, and River. And when I saw those posts a thought arose in my head and I wish to share it with you.

Since River grew up with Amy and Rory as Mels. And Mels was Amy's best friend do you think that they ever talked about children? Since I know that it can come up when talking with friends, and like... do you think that Amy might've ever expressed whether or not she wanted children?

And if she didn't, that Mels would've had to listen to her mother say that she doesn't want children? The idea is so heartbreaking and sooo interesting.

What do you think about it?

no, no, see, you're so right and this drives me wild.

because, the way i see it, i don't think amy wanted children. she's somewhere on the 'hasn't thought about it' to 'vaguely negative feelings about it happening' range to me, which falls sharply into 'Not Happening Ever Again' post-s6. (specifically, in terms of having a kid herself, even if she could, i really don't think she would. i do love that she and rory end up adopting a kid later, because that does make sense, for amy pond who grew up alone in one universe with her family swallowed by cracks in time before the doctor helped her set it right again, for her to want to make sure another child won't be alone in the world like she was. getting off-track here.)

and that's so. because the first real memory river/mels has of amy is of amy shooting at her. and depending on how well the silence fucked up the rest of her memory, it might be one of the very first memories she has at all. that's how she met her mother, crying for help and getting a bullet instead. her mother tried to kill her, so of course, you have to think. she must have needed to hear that she was wanted, right? even if she was taken away, even if amy shot her, at some point, melody must have been wanted?

river is good at getting people to do what she wants, but she is very, very bad at subtlety. and mels is younger, has less practice, so when she wants to know this, she's just going to ask. blunt and quick, easy enough because amy's used to the way mels will open her mouth and you just have to be ready to roll with what comes out if you want to keep up. it's why they're such good friends (like mother, like daughter.)

they're nine, and mels asks if amy wants kids, and amy wrinkles up her nose and says she won't have time for children, obviously, once her raggedy doctor finally comes back. they're fifteen, and amy and rory dance will they-won't they in a way that makes mels twitchy to watch, and taunting amy about wanting to have rory's babies is a good way to get on her nerves. but amy calls her gross, tells her she's got more life planned than children would leave room for, and besides, imagine her, a mom? it'd be a disaster.

mels does. a lot. she looks at her mother and just sees her best friend instead. she's not even sure what she wishes was there, but. maybe amy's right. and besides. imagine her, a daughter, instead of the ticking time bomb she really is? it'd be a disaster.

they're sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, and on. mels stands on the outside of a love story that births a universe. and her. how do you compete with that? not that she would know, not yet, she hasn't been there. but it doesn't make her feel any less alienated when amy and rory talk in whispers about a half-remembered world that's bled through to this life, about roman soldiers and boxes and the big bang of belief.

all these memories, they never mention children. on amy's wedding day, she's different, not like someone remembering a dream but someone who lived it. rory stands straighter, won't leave her side, and they're both so much older than they were yesterday. maybe now, right? a wedding's as good a time as any to decide you want kids.

mels not being at amy & rory's wedding is such an obvious lazy way of them trying to explain why they totally didn't just throw this plot twist together at the last minute that i'm not even going to acknowledge it. of course she was at their wedding. she's their best friend. there's too many people around the doctor, and she wasn't ready today of all days, so despite this horrible burning need under her skin to strike, she stays her hand. doesn't let him dance with her because she might just tear his throat out if he gets too close. stays with amy and rory as the maid of honor should. she must have been there for the awkward questions that always gets asked, 'so, any plans for a baby?' 'when am i getting grandkids?' 'oh, you two are going to have gorgeous children together.' standing a few feet from amy in her wedding dress and watching her mother tense and grit her teeth and brush off the questions. watching her look nervously at rory but never ask if he means it when his mom asks him if he'd prefer a son or a daughter, and rory answers 'either one, some day, not anytime soon.'

god i'm just going on and on, aren't i. but really, what's it like to know that amy never changed her mind. the next time she sees them, she's already been born and stolen. i don't like let's kill hitler for. so many reasons. but there is something compelling about how recklessly river lashes out at the world, at the doctor. even her sacrifice at the end is almost suicidal, throwing all her regenerations into this man without knowing if that will even work or if it might kill her to do it. but it makes more sense in the context of someone who has reached the end of a long, long wait for some kind of indication, any kind, that her mother wanted to have her. and finally been told, no. she didn't choose melody.

[cheriladycl01]

When at work - Lando Norris x UniStudent! Reader

Plot: Lando has known you since you were born, literally childhood friends. You went to every karting weekend with him until he started to travel more. As childhood lovers who have been dating for 8 years what happens when the general public find out about you?

Credit to landooscurls for the GIF

You'd known Lando since you were born just two years after him, and so until Year 4 when you excelled in your academics you were a school year behind him, you were moved up a year to his year. You followed him to the karting tracks when you were little being his biggest supporter and if you go back and look at interviews you'll always be spotted talking animatedly to his family about the race.

You had very strict parents about schooling and they wouldn't let you miss any days off, you could go to karting with Lando, after school or on the weekends but you couldn't take days off school for his races.

"Mum please! I want to go support him!" you cried when she told you that you couldn't have the day off to go watch Lando kart in one of his first proper championship races.

"No Y/N, Lando has found something he is good at... you are a smart girl and school is where you should be!" you mum had refused, smiling at you sadly.

"Dad?" you cried looking over at your dad, who would normally say yes to any request you had, especially if it involved Lando and his dad Adam, as they were friends.

"Sweetheart, I'm sorry but I'll have to agree with your mum on this one" he sighs pulling you into a hug. Those days at school that Lando wasn't there were lonely to say the least, Lando's friends wouldn't hang out with you if it was only you and you didn't have any of friends.

Eventually Lando quit school when he got to British Formula three, there he made lots of new friends including Max, who he introduced to you. You would miss Lando in school, and tried to branch out to make new friends but nothing felt as close as the bond you shared with Lando.

"Y/N, this is my friend Max I met him in karting" he smiles pulling you closer to Max.

"Erm, hi" you had smiled shyly at Max, who smiled back at you. With Max it felt like he was genuinely interested in getting to know you unlike Lando's school friends who just sort of acknowledged your existence because of Lando.

You and Max of course made fast friends after this.

This was 2015, and he asked you there and then to be his girlfriend. At first you laughed and said no, because you thought he was joking and one of the boys from karting had dared him as a cruel joke. But after lots of groveling on his behalf you said yes.

In 2016, you managed to exceed in your GCSE'S getting 6 A* to B grades. Lando had come just to celebrate with you. The next year you did the last of your GCSE's getting 7 more A* - B grades making you come out with 13 GCSE's in total. Lando had come to celebrate with you, while you had gone to celebrate with him that he had won the Formula 3 championship.

He of course, was promoted to Formula 2 for the 2018 season and became a test and reserve driver for Mclaren, which made you so proud because this was his way of being able to get into Formula One. You went on to do your Alevel-s, which were Maths, Physics, Design and Technology and Law. You were now just turned 17 and looking at universities you could go to, and looking at what degree you wanted to go into.

He came second in Formula 2, just behind the other British Racing Driver George Russell. And was promoted to F1 for the 2019 Season and would be in his rookie season.

Halfway through his first season which had gone pretty well with only 2 DNF's and him coming 6th highest, you'd finished your exams and had got offers back from all 5 universities you'd applied to. It was sad really, you'd applied to the University of Surry and University of Royal Holloway just to be near the Mclaren Technology Centre so you could be closer to Lando in the off season.

You'd ended up choosing Cambridge University in the end and spend the rest of your summer until the end of September travelling to races with Lando, you went with his Dad, having his other spare pass. You saw him in Monaco, Canada, France, Austria, Silverstone, Germany and Hungry before you spent the summer break in Greece together along with Max. Then you came with him to Belgium, Italy and Singapore before you had to go home to move into student accommodation.

As a rookie there wasn't too much focus on Lando, but when a girl was spotted with him in the paddock for 10 races, people had questions. After they did some digging they worked out that you were childhood friends with Lando and you were in his older and definitely cringier Instagram pictures, and they checked his tagged photos which led them to your account that he was following.

Luckily it was private but you were shocked at the influx of follow requests.

Rumors spread and people deducted that you must be his girlfriend. It made you nervous but Lando promised to go at your pace.

Your first year of university was cut short, everything went into lockdown, and you were alone in your little dorm room with 5 other housemates. It was a month until you finished all your exams online, and made the decision to travel to Lando's to live with him.

You ended up staying with him for the whole lockdown, and then travelling around with him for the whole of the 2020 season. You managed to do this while studying as your campus was shut for the whole of 2020 and most of 2021. You had an amazing second year grade passing with a 92 overall school having a 1st in your second year. So when 2021 came around you'd applied for Formula One internships so you could keep travelling around with Lando and almost all of them as they already knew you accepted you, you had a difficult time deciding who to go with.

Eventually you went with Red Bull, of course Lando had made jokes about how betrayed he felt, but was happy for you being in a top constructor. You joined them for the 2021 Azerbaijan GP, on the 6th of June you were there for 17 races in 2021 and learnt so much from the team.

You spent until September 2022 with them having major input on the build of the 2022 Red Bull to the point Christian Horner ask for you to be shown on the Instagram. 14 races you spend with them and it was a wild ride before you had to go back to University for your final year.

At this point you and Lando had been together for 7 years strong now. People worked out how long you'd been together a while ago and it had really shocked them. They expected you to be engaged and ... well they weren't far off.

He proposed to you in the winter break of 2022 on a ski holiday he'd taken you on. All of your's and his family were there too see and it was beyond magical. You were going into the 2023 season with a Fiancé and your soulmate.

You let your Instagram go public during this time, the fans had been asking for more content from you. You appeared on streams, and Lando always posted you on his accounts. Now it was time for them to go and stalk you account, instantly people went back through your photos finding old pictures from when you and Lando were younger and then the more recent pictures that everyone thought were cute.

Now Lando had gone back to racing and you were starting revision for exams that would happen in May.

However, you didn't tell Lando, that money was getting a bit tight. You'd always been funny when it came to how much Lando earned and how he always insisted that you lived rent free with him and to not worry about it. So at the start of 2023, towards the end of your degree you got a little side job as a barista in an independent coffee shop.

Lando of course being busy now that it was the start of the 2023 season and he had a new rookie team mate to meet, he was none the wiser.

It was just a typical day at the coffee shop when you were with your college, making yourself a drink when a girl and her friend came in.

"Oh my gosh, your Y/N!" a voice says making you look up, you smile happily not thinking much off it because you were wearing a name badge so you assumed she got it from there.

"Yes, hello how can I help you today!" you ask politely stopping making your drink and walking over to the till.

"You're Y/N Lando Norris Fiancé right?" she asks and your mouth drops open in shock. You had been noticed around the paddock, of course you had... but this was the first time someone had come to you in public.

"Ah yes I am!" you smile shyly. The interaction was relatively normal, you served them their drinks and made conversation with them before having to go back and serve more customers.

You didn't notice them take pictures and videos of you interacting and serving customers, which of course made their way onto social media. Suddenly and influx of customers came, which was strange for a Tuesday afternoon.

As well as the influx of customers you had people come in with cameras, starting to take pictures.

"Y/N what is happening all of these people are asking for you" Rhianne your co-worker asks and that's when the blender turns off and you can hear people calling your name.

They were fans of F1.

"Hey Y/N Lando deserves better than you"

"Y/N why are you working minimum wage when you have a boyfriend with a net worth of over 10 mil"

"Y/N break up with Lando"

"Oh my god, how did they all know this is where I work" you say asking your college not sure what to even do.

"Okay, let's get you out the back. Call the police and I'll try keep up with orders" She says pushing you towards the exit, the staff room was on the other side of the shop so you were going to have to tackle your way through the mound of people.

Eventually after people shoving phones in your face and grabbing at your wrist. You manage to get into the staff area and lock the door. You were crying as you called the police, who said they'd send bodies to you immediately.

After you hung up, your phone started to ring and Lando's face popped up.

"Hi baby" you say trying to sound like your not crying. Your camera was facing up so he couldn't see you.

"Y/N show me where you are right now. I swear to god, if what I'm seeing on twitter is true" he huffs out making you pan down the camera to show the back room you were in. He was in Australia right now and had heard from Oscar that you were trending on twitter and looked scared.

"Are you safe?" he asks worried, making you burst into tears. You could suddenly feel everyone's hands back on you and your breathing goes shallow.

"Mmm, I had to call the police there was so many people" you cry, wiping your tears.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. Look after Australia, I'm coming to you okay! Why the fuck didn't you ask me if you needed money" he asks looking at you with that disappointed look you hated.

"Lando, you know how i feel about that" you say.

"Baby, your still in Uni. You shouldn't have to work. Do you parents know?" he asks, and you shake you head.

"Hey Y/N! How are you?" Oscar asks coming into view of the camera.

"I'm okay Oscar, I cant wait to meet you next week!" You smile at him, blinking away the tears that were still trying to come out.

"Oh, I think the police are here, but I'll call you when I'm home!" you say hearing a knock at the door.

"Ask them to take you home. You shouldn't walk round the streets alone! I love you darling" Lando sighs.

"I love you too Lando, thank you!"

A/N: I feel like this isn't very good, I'm sorry this feels like its so info dumpy and not much fluff!!

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle

[bookshelf-dust]

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?” 

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make. 

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes. 

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table. 

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around. 

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.” 

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment. 

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down. 

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro. 

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money. 

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way. 

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?” 

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy. 

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up. 

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch. 

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment. 

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge. 

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.” 

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her. 

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say. 

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice. 

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation. 

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek. 

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it. 

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together. 

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale. 

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win. 

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door. 

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do. 

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do. 

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger. 

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side. 

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him. 

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him. 

“Besides what?” 

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself. 

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless. 

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again. 

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it. 

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there. 

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims. 

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom. 

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…” 

You and Billy. 

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room. 

Sharing a bed. 

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall. 

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything. 

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them. 

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh. 

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that. 

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you. 

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether. 

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him. 

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win. 

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back. 

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby. 

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”. 

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.” 

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips. 

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind. 

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them. 

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one. 

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out. 

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card. 

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger. 

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can. 

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask. 

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.” 

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass. 

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder. 

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either. 

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing. 

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way. 

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in. 

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you. 

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own. 

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this. 

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side. 

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined. 

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?” 

“Yeah.” 

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?” 

“Yes.” 

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before. 

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him. 

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.” 

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck. 

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break. 

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous. 

It’s just me. 

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean. 

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed. 

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them. 

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop. 

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look. 

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in. 

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on. 

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction. 

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble. 

“Sleep okay?” she asks. 

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.” 

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up. 

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet. 

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.” 

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.” 

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being. 

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water. 

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down. 

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool. 

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you. 

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does. 

“Okay.” 

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do. 

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.” 

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see. 

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say. 

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water. 

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with. 

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest. 

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child. 

“You motherfucker!” 

You get him back, and he’s laughing. 

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water. 

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating. 

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so. 

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it. 

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them. 

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks. 

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy. 

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this. 

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.” 

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again. 

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content. 

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up. 

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before. 

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro. 

You’re healing him. You. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖THE LIGHTNING ON TRACK | THE PRE-SEASON TESTING

fandom. formula one & mcu

about. it's pre-season testing time!

content warnings. smau & written parts, written in 3rd person & lowercase, not edited & proofread

word count. 1.1k

notes. we're dipping into the season, slowly but surely... this took me some time to finish, i literally didn't know what to write for testing ://

"we are here in bahrain, pre-season testing for all teams in 2025, welcome everyone!" croft greets the whole world, as live footage is shown across the devices. the camera spans over the whole track, to each individual paddock until stopping at the final one, in blinding white.

"the season is starting with a bang, for the first time in formula one, we will see a stark owned team on the track! in white and chrome they are, an iconic design and everyone is eager to see what the stark manufactured cars can do!"

"how right you are, david! welcome, i'm will buxton and i have someone of interest with me here. right here, in front of the stark racing garage- y/n stark, number 95, one of the drivers for stark racing. so, y/n, tell me, how are you feeling? are you ready for the first time in the car?"

"hello will, thank you for having me. well, it's not quite the first time in the car, we had a testing back in miami at the end of january, but it's something different to be officially here now. but i'm feeling confident- we have our data, the predicted numbers and we think we'll be able to achieve them."

"so, no major upgrades or changes planned?" y/n shakes her head with a grin.

"do you really think i'm going to answer that question? ask me again, when we're done." will laughs at that, nodding his head in understanding.

"understandable, but i will hold you onto that! gonna knock on the garage doors three days later." y/n laughs again, head thrown back. "but, y/n, how does it feel to be on the paddock? have you met the rest of the drivers yet? made any new friendships?"

"well..."

"can you turn that off?", carlos gruffly asks his teammate, who just waves his hand at him as answer. with a groan, he stares at the tv, showing the first driver interview of the day, y/n stark. her voice washes over him, empty answers of being excited to properly meet everyone and maybe even bond with a few drivers.

"i don't know why you're so obsessed, perceval." charles immediatly splutters, waving his hands to deny the accusation.

"i'm not! but it's so interesting! tony stark is literally here, aren't you at least a bit excited? arthur said that y/n is like him!"

"what, arrogant? self-centered?"

"carlos! stop being so negative! i meant like- a genius! someone who raced with her back in f3 is friends with arthur, i forgot his name, but apparently y/n constantly does calculations while she drives. that's why she's so good overtaking." carlos just sighs and leaves charles to whatever he's doing right now. he has no interest in this circus.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—

kevin watches the interviews from the sideline, completely satisfied with how everyone is hounding y/n and leaving him in peace. of course he had his fair amount of questions and interviews, but much less than his teammate.

it has been a whirlwind, ever since he joined the team. strange, for a while, everything seeming so futuristic, but now his glasses feel like a another part of his race suit he's putting on every day.

the team has been welcoming, open to his input, but it's very clear to him that y/n is their star driver and he's the support. and he's alright with it. of course, winning a championship would mean everything, but he knows he's not going to continue this forever. especially not when he has a kid, he's missing so much... something he dislikes, because family means everything to him.

this is why his contract is only for two years. if he wishes to continue and his results at the end of the season are steady, tony promised him a seat as long he wishes for. he is incredibly thankful for this offer, fully knowing that this kind of support doesn't exist in formula one.

"ready to go?", he asks, after y/n's press officer ushers her out of the mob called journalists.

"so ready to go", she grins. but they're not alone, the netflix camera's immediately surround them and capture their walk to the garage. people part from them, staring openly at the drivers. one of the most iconic footage later shown in the drive to survive documentary.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—

"so, here he goes, kevin magnussen for stark racing, leaving his side of the garage. the car is looking incredible, i really like the color!", comments crofty and the other men immediately begin to chatter as well. throwing in rumors and hearsay about the team, they expertly fill the silence of kevin doing his first lap on the track.

"last to leave the garage and on the track, all eyes are on stark racing- oh and there he goes, picking up the speed!"

"his tyres seem to have warmed up- woah! look at the smoothness! kevin seems to be home in his car, his struggles from the last season are nowhere to be seen", adds jenson, while the cameras continue to follow the white car with the number 20.

"and there he goes! on medium tyres, setting the third fastest lap already, this looks definitely promising." will shares his own thoughts, reminding the viewers that there is definitely a possibility of stark racing going at least one or two seconds faster.

"by the looks of it, the stark racing team seems to be satisfied- honestly can't tell much, the glasses are hiding too much", jokes another man and all of them laugh. "bloody starks, am i right?"

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ 🏎️ ˖⁺‧₊˚—

the testing days are filled with endless laps and data, followed by long hours of debrief. they've already proven that they're fast, slotting themselves on the upper half of the grid, sticking close to the more experienced teams.

speculations are thrown around, is stark racing sandbagging? of course they must be, while others think that this is the best they can do. neither of the drivers or the team principal lose a word on it, instead they repeat always the same statements.

"we delivered what we predicted."

"we tested our theories, confirmed or debunked them, so the past three days have been very productive."

"we're exactly there where we want to be and we know our next steps."

empty words and yet the journalists pounce on them as if they're the next headlines. the whole world watches with eagerness as stark racing finishes up their debut in formula one and they impatiently await the first race of the season.

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @akiraquote , @kiiyoooo , @nichmeddar , @nothingfuninthislife , @minkyungseokie , @fionaschicken , @lyrasconstellation , @spideybv28 , @keii134 , @starssfall , @tpwkstiles, @fangirl-dot-com , @nichmeddar , @lady-laura-speaks , @nikfigueiredo , @hinamesgigantica , @brakingboundaries , @almostjollypizza , @yoremins , @raizelchrysanderoctavius , @celesteblack08 , @watermelon-sugars-things , @lighttsoutlewis , @radiantdanvers , @vellicora, @sterredem , @hiireadstuff , @jolixtreesunn , @mypage-myfandoms , @nelly187 @greeneyesandsunshine , @fulla02 , @welovediaaxx , @whyamireadingthis , @67-angelofthelordme-67 , @blueberry64857959 , @winchesterwife27 , @six-call , @skywalker1dream , @mellowarcadefun , @cherry-piee , @peterholland04 , @motorsportloverf1 , @renarots , @msbyjackal , @woozarts , @leclucklerc , @yl90

crossed off tags mean i can't tag you!

DO YOU WANT TO JOIN THE SERIES TAGLIST? please leave a comment on this post or send a non anonymous ask!

ARKHAM MAID 2024

[moviecritc]

Hi! Could you do a driver!reader who is dating Max and is in ferrari and the whole Carlos thing is happening to her so in Australia she ignores team orders and goes to win the race. Charles is mad at her and in the post race interview when asked about it she is just like "Happy multi 21 day everyone" and like Max is so fucking proud his gf is in her reputation era 💅💅💅

on the edge ⋆ max verstappen

pairing: max verstappen x driver!reader

word count: 1.7K

warnings: charles leclerc being himself (a bitch)

a/n: this is my first request it makes me very very happy!! thanks anon for your request, i hope you like this. i love max with all my heart and i love writing about him aswell.

just wanted to tell you guys that for the requests you can ask for reader and oc, even though when it's not a request it'll probably be an oc bc i love to give names to my characters <3

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

Y/N didn't have a seat for the upcoming Formula 1 season, and that stressed her out quite a bit. She and Charles had been teammates for three years, and she really thought Ferrari would keep her on the team, but upon learning that Lewis Hamilton was leaving Mercedes, they were the first to snatch him up and turn their backs on her.

Now she had two options: give up, pray to sign with Williams or Haas, or outperform herself this season and force her way into one of the top five teams. And for now, she had chosen the second option. P3 in the first race and in the top five in the second. She was extremely motivated for Australia.

Y/N loved the view of the fireworks from the podium, the champagne, and, above all, celebrating with Max Verstappen. Because let's not lie, it was obvious that Max would be on most of the podiums.

They kept their relationship out of the media. Being coworkers, neither of them wanted their relationship to hinder their success in Formula 1, but that didn't mean they didn't support each other every time the other achieved something.

Max had been with her throughout her Formula 1 career. They were the same age, but when Max debuted in the competition, she was still in Formula 2, battling against Albon and Russell for the title. A year before his debut, Y/N got a spot at Alpha Tauri as a reserve driver. It was in that year that Max and she started a relationship, at first quite casual and sporadic until they realized they were too obsessed with each other not to formalize it. And four years later, they were still together, sharing an attic in Monaco and competing together for the championship.

"It's going to be great for both of us, I'm sure," Y/N nodded. Before each race, they had a kind of ritual where they wished each other good luck, hugged, and kissed.

"I see a Y/Nstappen 1-2," Max assured before giving her a long kiss, resting his arms on his girlfriend's waist.

"I hope so,"

"Oh, come on. You're starting fourth, it'll be bad if you don't get on the podium," Max said. He knew her situation in Formula 1 was tense and did everything he could to make her feel good and positive. Max loved racing with her, and if she ended up off the grid next season, he would probably suffer from seasonal depression.

They kissed once more and were about to hug when someone knocked on Max's door to get them to the drivers' parade. They couldn't complete their little ritual, but neither of them gave it too much importance.

They went out to the parade where she was asked about her future in Formula 1, as they had been doing since the season started. That also annoyed her, would it always be like this from now on? Would everything be oriented towards whether she was unemployed or not? She answered with the best smile she could and ended the interview as quickly as possible.

She returned to Max, who was leaning on the fence of the truck they were being taken in for the parade. She leaned on the railing, holding it with her hands. Then Max discreetly placed his hand on hers, making her smile at the contact. Max wasn't very fond of physical contact, but if he could manage to brush against her shoulder, he would, maintaining professionalism wasn't as easy as it seemed.

"How's it going, mates?" Surprisingly, Leclerc approached them to start a conversation, first fist bumping with Max and then with Y/N, pressing his lips a little.

Their relationship as teammates was quite complicated at the moment. She was killing it in the few races that had passed, while Charles was just doing okay. Plus, although when Y/N joined the team, Charles and she had gotten along very well, that year they had been growing apart for obvious reasons.

They talked for a while about the race and expectations, especially Max and Charles, while Y/N disconnected from the situation a bit. Sometimes she was surprised that Charles and Max got along so well.

"Good luck today, Y/N," Charles said before leaving with Gasly.

Y/N blinked and looked at Max, puzzled. "What did he mean by that?"

"What do you mean?" Max frowned a little.

"He wished me luck, as if he thought I needed it," she insisted, biting her cheek.

"Everyone needs some luck, Y/N," Max said, knowing how nervous she could get when something didn't fit in her head.

"He didn't say anything to you," Y/N argued, crossing her arms.

"I mean…" Max tilted his head a little, eliciting a little smile from Y/N. "Don't dwell on it too much, you'll do great."

She loved that, how Max was able to lift her spirits in any situation, getting a little smile out of her. She loved him for that.

The parade ended, and they each went to their garage, fist bumping as a farewell because anything else would cause a stir in the media. In the Ferrari garage, her engineer commented on the strategies that focused on supporting and defending Charles even if he started two positions below her.

She gave Charles a short glance before going to the cars and taking their respective positions. It’s light and away we go. Y/N was so focused on passing Lando Norris that she didn't realize her boyfriend was no longer in first place, actually, he wasn't there anymore. She asked the engineers what had happened; Max had had some problems with the brakes and had retired from the race. "Don't fuck with me," she said, not fully believing it. "Is Max okay?"

"We don't know, focus on the race," her engineer emphasized.

"When you know, tell me, please," Y/N added, without receiving a response. There had been no accident, no red flag, so he was probably fine. But if there was smoke and sparks, there was always a chance that something had happened to him in the pits.

Y/N took a couple of breaths and refocused on the race. She looked on the bright side; she was third and had a chance to win. A few laps later, she managed to overtake Lando Norris. She pitted, and in the last third of the race, she was in first place. Behind her was Charles, so she thought they would change the strategy, and he would be the one defending the position.

"Y/N, let Charles pass," her engineer said, taking her by surprise.

"What?" Y/N practically shouted. "But I'm in first,"

"They're team orders, let him pass,"

"He's slow! He's over half a second behind me, letting him pass will make me slow down!" She couldn't believe this was happening.

"Y/N."

"If he can overtake me, let him, but I'm not letting him pass. I'm winning this fucking race."

And so it was. Y/N crossed the finish line first, and when she got out of the car, Max was there to greet her with a hug. He tried to make her not notice that there were hardly any people from her team there, but Y/N realized it, and her gaze darkened a little. Still, Charles came second, and when he parked his car, several Ferrari mechanics went to congratulate him.

Max watched Y/N, worried that she would take it badly. But then he saw her exchange a triumphant

look with Charles, who, upon seeing her, turned serious. And if that wasn't enough, she blew a kiss to Charles and then went with Max, who put an arm around her shoulders.

"That was incredible," Max said.

"The race or Charles's face?" she questioned, with an ironic smile.

"Both. I thought you'd be sad because there was no one to greet you,"

"You were there,"

"From your team, I mean," Max explained.

"You and I are a team, Maxie. Have you never thought about that?" She looked at him with a smile. "You're right, we are,"

"Are you okay?" Y/N asked. "I got quite worried when you DNF’d."

"I'm okay, no serious damage,"

"And emotionally?"

"I'm fine. Proud of you, above all," Max nodded. "Now go celebrate your podium, I'll be watching you from below,"

They gave each other a brief kiss on the cheek, not caring too much about the cameras; she had just won the race, she deserved at least a kiss from her boyfriend. She received her prize with a smile and celebrated the podium with Charles and Lando, more with Lando than with Charles. The McLaren driver had congratulated her countless times that day, but Charles barely spoke to her.

"Are you okay, mate?" Y/N asked, knowing what was coming.

"You didn't follow team orders," Charles said directly.

"Oh, right. That," she shrugged, raising her eyebrows. "You came second, Charles. It's not that bad,"

"Damn, but if they tell you to let me pass, you let me pass. What does it matter to you?" he raised his voice a little.

"What does it matter to you? You have your golden seat at Ferrari. Some of us have to work really hard to have a seat, crazy, right?" Y/N rolled her eyes with a smile and turned around, leaving Charles with a word on his lips.

Y/N reached the interview area, where Lando and Oscar were doing their respective interviews.

"Y/N! You won the race by disobeying team orders, does it feel the same as winning a race fair and square?" a man asked.

"Fair and square? I was fast enough to cross the line first, the rest weren't. I think that's how a race is supposed to be won," she argued. She smiled widely; she saw Max was also around, waiting for his turn for interviews.

"Don't you have any remorse?" he questioned.

"Not one,"

She ended the interview after that; she didn't feel like explaining. As she turned around, she found Max with an almost mischievous smile. They fist bumped, and he went to do the interview. "Max, can we ask you about the win of your girlfriend?"

"About Y/N,"

"Yes, about Y/N," he nodded.

"I'm extremely proud of her, it's her second victory, and even though I had to retire, I'm glad she won this race,"

"Even given the circumstances of the victory?" the reporter questioned.

"With the circumstances of the victory," Max assured with a broad smile.

[aloesarchives]

JJK Drabble #2

Tw/Warnings: Fem!Reader, Fluff, Fluff Brainrot, Domesticity, Family Man Toji, Usage of Wife and Mom, JJK Oc added

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

Reader: Female, Usage of Wife and Mom

AU: Modern/"Toji Lives" Au

(A/N): I'm back! Well, kinda of. Long story short, dealt w/college stuff and had a health scare that kept me away from writing. Also had a mini burnout too. More is explained here!

Thinking about Toji taking up crocheting and knitting because he saw how expensive yet cheaply made certain items like blankets are made. So he buys a simple set to try it out, following Youtube tutorials and watching videos for ideas. Once he masters the basics, Toji is LOCKED IN once again. Making full on hand-made blankets, scarves, hats, mittens/gloves, stuffed animals, covers/cases, bags, scrunchies, even damn rugs. Anything you ask him for, he’ll make it. This ends up being very practical to Toji because he saves so much money by just making them at home himself. It has to be the premium, natural, good quality type. Organic cotton, wool, cashmere, alpaca/llamas, silk, linen, mohair, bamboo, hemp, all of that. Tell him about polyester or something and he tells you to put that shit back. He buys the premium yarn nearby, locally, or gets them imported internationally. Gets every and any colors because he never wants to be limited when making his projects.

There was a throw blanket you wanted for the couch but it was expensive and the size was a lot smaller than you hoped. The next day, you come home to see Toji making it for you. The same color but better quality and inexpensive, and it was the size you wanted too. You were happy and amazed that he made it within a day. Living off your praise and approval, Toji just makes everything. Since he can’t get carpal tunnel or arthritis, his hands and wrists never get tired from working. Though, his posture does get bad and his back aches from being hunched over. The blanket in your bedroom with Toji? He made that shit with fucking love and care. He actually made multiple ones depending on the weather and season. 

Man has even made throw pillows, regular pillows, water bottle cases, table cloths, coasters, bags, cushions, and made your own curtains. I mentioned before that everything in your home was either made, customized, or renovated by Toji. This stays TRUE because almost all the pillows and blankets in the house are his creation. The blankets and pillows that cover Megumi and Tsumiki’s beds? All Toji. Both pillows and blankets match each other and are in respective colors for the two. Megumi has one at his dorm because it gets cold over there and he hates sleeping in the cold. 

If you are a stuffed animal fiend, like me, you ask Toji to make you any stuffed animal you want. Definitely make squishmallow dupes for you if you asked him. In your personal room/office, there’s a pile of stuffed animals in the corner from Toji that you pluck one from the pile and hold it while relaxing or walking around the house. The ones he loves to make are bees, dragons, whales, dolphins and dogs. And they’re so soft and huggable, you squeeze them all the time. Toji just grins to himself knowing the things he makes brings you and the kids happiness.

Toji “Anything my wife wants, my wife gets. No questions asked” Fushiguro

It’s normal for you to come home to see Toji crocheting/knitting away at something. You either find him in three places at home: the engawa in front of the courtyard and garden, the family room with the shoji doors open, or in his personal room/office. Mostly, he sits outside sitting on the engawa working away at something. It makes him work better, or so he says. Makes his own needles and hooks because of his big hands. Megumi still has his crocheted stuffed puppy when he was younger, still going strong even though it’s been worn down from love. Tsumiki has all the Sanrio characters knitted/crocheted as gifts from Toji.

Tsumiki always wears her hair up in a ponytail, Toji makes her scrunchies in her favorite designs and colors. Her favorite cardigans and pullover sweaters that keep her warm during fall and winter were made by Toji because he wanted to try making outerwear. Luckily it worked in his favor. Tsumiki asked Toji if he could make her a tote bag because she needed a bag for outings. She comes home from school one day to see three of them in different sizes. She has those cute little flower keychains on her school bag and outing bags too because she asked Papa Toji for them. The massive white and blue circle rug in her room is from Toji.

Megumi’s winter scarf, earmuffs, and hat are made by Toji too. Megumi will never admit it out loud but he appreciates that Toji made it for him. They keep him and he doesn’t feel the wind chills nipping at his face. Megumi also appreciates his dad for making his stuffed animals. I’m projecting here but Toji made a set of plush stuffed animals after his shadows. His divine dogs, all of them. Megumi keeps them on his stuffed animal net in the top corner above his bed. Megumi wears a jacket and hoodie made by Toji all year round because of how versatile they are. In general, they’re Megumi’s favorite clothes to wear too.

Thinking about asking Toji to make a present for Nobara and Yuuji on their birthdays. You asked Nobara what her favorite color and style was while Yuuji said he wanted a new hoodie. Toji makes them pretty fast and the two are in love with their gifts. Nobara is wearing her bag EVERYWHERE, and I mean, EVERYWHERE she goes. Yuuji, like Megumi, ends up loving his hoodie that you always see him wear when he’s in casual clothes. Since Nanako and Mimiko grew up with Megumi and Tsumiki, one of Nanako’s cardigans and a pair of her socks are made by Toji while Mimiko only has a random plushie Toji made for her when she was younger because Suguru had to clean the other one.

Not me thinking about how Tsumiki, Megumi, and Mayumi(JJK OC) baby blankets are handmade by Toji himself with their own individual design and patterns. Megumi and Tsumiki’s are still in good condition even though they were lovingly used by the two throughout their whole life. Their baby hats, socks, and certain outfits were all made by him. He keeps them all in individual boxes to not lose them. Gets sentimental and nostalgic that you catch him staring as he holds the small clothes in his big hands. Reminiscing about Megumi and Tsumiki being babies and small children, now realizing that they are growing up before his eyes.

God, all of it is thoroughly well knitted and crocheted that people thought you bought it from a store. “No, actually my husband made it for me. Isn’t he skillful and amazing?” Your friends and co-workers lowkey ask you if Toji is willing to take commissions for them. They’ll pay for it obviously but they want good quality home-made items Toji makes which gives you an idea. You asked Toji if he considered making orders for other people besides his family. He did think about it but he said he would get overwhelmed when receiving orders and packing them up. You asked him if dealing with the orders and packaging them would help him change his mind. So you unintentionally set up a small business with Toji. His shop consists of blankets, bags and baskets of any kind, pot holders, rugs, coverings, and pillows. It runs where one week is for receiving orders, one month is for making them, and another month to send them out. Making a spreadsheet/list for Toji to show what he needs to make. Probably gets finished with all the orders in two weeks or something.

For some reason, Toji wears eye-glasses when he knits and crochets. You don’t know why but it makes him more handsome that your brain rots/short circuits every time you see him working away. He got you all flustered and down bad it’s insane(but absolutely valid). But you don’t understand why he would need them since he already has better vision and eye-sight than 99% of the population.

“Honey, since when do you need glasses?”

“I need it so I don’t strain my eyes when working on them?”

“Can you, like, squint? You already have 20/10 vision. You don’t need glasses when you have superhuman vision, Baby.”

“Doll, just because I have good eye-sight doesn’t mean my eyes aren’t as sensitive. My eyes are still bugged by light, shit hurts and gives me headaches. Anyway, can you pass me the blue yarn in front of ya?”

Megumi and Tsumiki always see you with their Toji. You’re chilling and minding your own business with their baby sister napping away while Toji is working away at a rug because he is bored. Even though he’s been doing this since they were young, the two still can’t get over how their dad can make a king-sized blanket(start to finish) in four hours. Or when they come home from school and see Toji finishing up on a big and long green dragon, turning to Megumi and Tsumiki asking them, “Do you two think your mom would like this?” Or they could be chilling then Toji asks them to try on the projects he finished to see how they look. Tsumiki and Megumi are his main critics, you are too but you aren’t bothered by certain details to criticize Toji’s projects so he leaves it to the kids.

Mayumi(JJK OC) is chilling by Toji as he’s working away, either sleeping away or playing with her stuffed animals close within sight. Being the three year old she is, she sometimes hides underneath the unfinished blankets and pops up from under to surprise Toji. Papa Toji gives his iconic DILF chuckle that has you  GEEKING and GIGGLING like a damn school girl when you get the chance to hear it every time. He just pats her head, calling her a little rascal or princess, then resumes.

I’m projecting once again but you know those cute crochet dolls? Like the ones with the big black eyes, big head, small body, and no mouth? Toji made those of the entire family. There’s one of himself in his iconic black compression shirt, white sweatpants, and kung fu slippers. He added a little scar too where his mouth would be. Then there is your’s, all pretty and pristine with your iconic outfit. Toji getting your colors and features down to the bone. Next is Megumi and Tsumiki, literal carbon copies of their real versions. Toji said Megumi’s hair was the hardest part to make lol. Then Mayumi’s doll is later added once she’s born. The mini Fushiguro Doll set sits on the top shelf of a pristine black display case, next to the tv, in the family room. 

He’s the type of guy you wouldn’t expect to be good at a skill like this then later found out he’s an absolute master and god among men. Toji doesn’t parade around craftsmanship because he knows how some guys have fragile egos. But he won’t shy away when people ask him about his work. Pulls out his phone to show people the things he made with two needles, one crochet hook, and a shit load of yarn.

Satoru, being the shitter he is, tries to tease and bully Toji about it. To which you reprimand and scold him for it. But Toji doesn’t care about dealing with his antics because it’s a practical skill and keeps him out of trouble. Then you remind Satoru that his winter scarf he always wears was made, the one you gifted him for his 18th birthday, was made by Toji at your request. Satoru never wore any scarf because he thought you made it for him. But for you to tell him Toji actually made it for him, Satoru shuts himself up and doesn’t shit on Toji anymore.

Toji loves it when his family uses/wears the things that he made. Usually wears a goofy smile or grin on his face to conceal his prideful yet satisfied self, knowing his creations are appreciated and loved by his family.

Tag List:

@luqueam @ploylulla @tqd4455 @wolywolymoley @captainbabybear @ravenswife

Tag List(@ w/ no links):

@szillx @g0th1xac1d @SleppyAnn @kneelarhmstrung

[natailiatulls07]

Drive to survive

Charles Leclerc & leclerc!driver!reader

Summary - Netflix's drive to survive interviews Y/n and Charles Leclerc about something that caused immense issues

Warning - Cheating, car crash, panic attack, fire, crying, swearing and self doubt

Reader drives for Ferrari

Purple is flashbacks

-

Y/n Leclerc, Ferrari

"Hello, I'm Y/n Leclerc. I'm 24 years old and I race for Ferrari alongside my twin brother, Charles Leclerc" I sat in the seat just in front of the camera, my anxiety throw the roof. My last season had ended on a bad note, with some personal troubles effecting my focus on track.

The producer settled herself down just to the side of the camera with a hand full of questions and topics that we would talk through for Netflix. "How are you feeling right now?"

Taking a deep breath in and out before answering. "yeah..I think I'm good. but yet I guess I'll have to be" A nervous chuckle left my lips which earned me a look of sympathy from the producer.

Looking down at her paper, she prepared herself to ask the first question. "So how do you feel after your ending last year?" Her voice calm and collected, as if she wanted me to feel that energy, this was what I was grateful for.

It took me a second of debating, debating my answer. "Um yeah, I mean it was a hard time obviously...I had some personal problems regarding my relationship and unfortunately that had its effect on my performance" A pause to think over my answer. "Of course I should not have um let that effect my performance, which I am greatly disappointed at myself for"

-

Walking into my appartment, I noticed the absence of Theo in the open plan kitchen lounge. I searched further into the appartment. Thats where I saw Theo in my bed with another girl.

Tears were welling up in my eyes, I had been dating him since I was just twenty but yet he decided to throw that away for some girl. "What the fuck?!" Shock, betrayal and heartbreak. Thats all I felt.

That night I kicked him and his sidechick out of my appartment, wanting to see nothing of them ever again. Luckily my three brothers were coming round that evening. So when they saw me, cheeks burned with tears, they knew something happened.

~

It was the last grand prix of the season, Abu Dhabi, I was sat in p4 just awaiting for the five red lights to flash away. My head was clogged with that day, the day I got heartbroken. "Radio check, radio check" My race engineers voice came through my headset.

"Loud and clear..." Voice low and weary as I replied.

"Y/n...you can do it, just forget and clear your mind" He knew of my heartache, heck everyone knew, wanting nothing more for me to end the season on a high note.

That race was my worst race to date. I didn't finish it. It was the Abu Dhabi race where I crashed, the Abu Dhabi race where I just sat by my burning car tangled up in a panic attack. I couldn't control my breathing or my mind.

Not my finest hour, in my opinion it was my very worse.

-

Looking down at my lap, I could see my leg persistantly bumping up and down. It was hard to talk about that time. "What was your first instinct to your crash?" The producer asked her next question.

Once again my mind was casted back to that night. "Well um I remember that after I got out of my car, I couldn't stop crying and I couldn't control my breathing. I was having a panic attack and I just couldn't calm myself down"

-

It was loud. I could hear the safety team trying to calm down the fire. I could hear fans watching on from the sidelines. I could hear my race engineer trying to calm me down through my headset. I felt like I was moving away from the real world every second.

My mind couldn't focus on one thing. I felt the warmth of the fire on my body. I felt the hands of a safety team member trying to bring me back down to earth.

~

When Charles heard the red flag through his radio, his mind went straight to Y/n. Where was Y/n? Is Y/n okay? Growing up Charles grew more and more protective of his twin.

So when he saw her car and herself not in attendance of the Ferrari, he became even the more distressed. But when he saw the crash on the large television screen, he set off run towards it much to the team dismay.

Charles ran until he reached the burn car. He saw her sat there curled up in her arms.

"Bébé bébé peux-tu m'entendre? Je suis là, souffle souffle écoute mon coeur" He pulled her into himself, moving her head to rest just above his heart. Wanting her to hear his heartbeat and copy it.

Charles knew of her panic attacks, he watched them grow worse and worse as they grew up. But he always knew how to help her, calm her down and breath.

-

Charles Leclerc, Ferrari

"How did you feel when you saw your teammate and sister crash and then have a panic attack?" The producer asked the 25 year old Ferrari driver.

His eyes downcasted, that night was his nightmare. "I remember feeling um this sense of terror fill me when I saw her crash. Aside from being my teammate at Ferrari, Y/n is my twinsister. She's has always had her panic attacks but that night..." Charles felt his eye water up even at the thought.

"That night was the worst panic attack she has ever had, I don't think I'll recover from that night" Standing up from his chair, Charles walked away from the camera. Tears flooding down his cheeks.

-

Y/n Leclerc, Ferrari

"It was only when Charles came that I started to come back down to earth. It's always when he comes that I come back." It was always Charles who helped me through my panic attacks.

Charles. He has been my rock ever since forever. He had been my rock when times got rough and tough. Before each race checking on me and everyday checking on me. He knew how hard I was taking my breakup and just wanted to help me through that.

Once again, I took in another deep breath, trying to distance myself from that night. "So 2023, how are you feeling about returning to Ferrari with Charles by your side?" The producer continued.

A small smile made its way to my face. "Yeah um I'm excited of course. I love racing, I love getting behind that wheel and fighting for a place on the podium, fighting for first place" Nodding my head, with approval of my comment.

"Well thank you so much for talking with us today, I know it's hard to talk about something like that" The camera were cut off, we both stood up from our seats.

Walking out of the studio, I felt a sense of relief and solace fall on my shoulders. This replacing the deep sorrow and disappointment.

-

I heard my appartment door open and close. Walking into the kitchen lounge, Charles had a proud smile on his face. "Whats got you smile like that?" I laughed at my confusion, Charles joining in with my amused laughter.

"Lucy, your manager, just called me and she told me about your interview with Netflix today...I'm so proud of you baby sis" His tears cloud his waterline whilst tears of my own clouded my own.

Finally, I had gotten over my anxiety and my regret. I could breath again.

-

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM LIFE IS STRANGE, SEASON 1 *  assorted dialogue, suggested by ismelodrama, adjust as necessary

everything is a picture waiting for be taken.

you're just jealous of me because i actually do the things you can't.

are you hiding something?

i'm sick of your disrespect. tell me the truth!

i don't want to fight with you anymore. i don't want to fight with anyone anymore.

i was eating those beans!

how the hell did you know about that photo?

always take the shot. my number one rule of photography.

you just don't listen, do you?

there's something weird going on with you.

you've only been here for three weeks and you're already causing conflict.

after this week, you are certainly not a little kid anymore.

not now. i'm contemplating shit.

are you fucking kidding me? this is major bullshit!

i didn't have all the evidence at the time.

we all make decisions we regret.

i'm not gonna make any excuses for my behavior.

i'd put stephen hawking against picasso any day.

it sucks to be dragged into the spotlight.

nobody believes me anyway.

you're exactly the kind of soldier i'd want by my side in a war.

why the hell not?

i almost asked you to hang out.

you should have asked me.

maybe we're too much alike.

i don't believe anything you say. you're full of shit.

eat a dick, [name].

i'll be in the tardis getting my delorean ready.

since you're the mysterious superhero... i'll be your faithful chauffeur and companion.

you don't know who the fuck i am or who you're messing around with.

where'd you get that? what are you doing? come on, put that thing down!

don't ever tell me what to do! i'm so sick of people trying to control me!

so you can't help me?

i told you before that i'll always believe you.

i may be a pest but... i'm a good listener.

you're the bravest person i've ever known.

for every action, there's a reaction.

i'm trying. but you have to understand my position.

i know i can be a pain in the ass... and you've always treated me like a person, not a beta nerd.

why do you want all your friends to die?

oh i see. i'm not important to you anymore.

nobody lectures me. everybody tries though.

do not analyze me! i pay people for that.

hey, that's total slander!

you don't know shit about my father, or me.

you're all fucked!

everybody hates me.

[name]... it's me. i just wanted to say i'm sorry.

i truly am sorry for being such a bastard.

you would have been cool to hang out with.

you might as well choose me.

i'm not perfect, okay?

you have talent, [name].

you don't have to push people out of your way.

thanks for admitting again that i have some talent.

do you think it's, like, fate we're not supposed to be friends?

nobody says we have to be friends.

everybody lies. no exceptions.

i came for all of you.

i'm in a nightmare and i can't wake up.

no wonder they call it a "web." nothing can ever get out.

i wish i could go back in time and erase everything.

just tell me you do have the photograph.

now shut up and listen.

i'm not a real scientist.

i was just happy just being your friend.

[name], i'm so sorry you had to go through all that.

i don't think i can concentrate on going out to the movies.

everybody pretends to care until they don't.

even angels need angels, [name].

i might be naive, but i feel their struggle.

why did you stop me from jumping?

this shit pit has taken everyone i've ever loved.

when a door closes, a window opens... or something like that.

i keep going back in time.

how could there be a more important moment in history?

thank you for trusting me.

hey... be careful out there.

what kind of friend are you?

you never understood me, or what happened to me.

i'll always be alone, thanks to you.

just in case we don't get out of this...

i'm going to make the right choices from now on.

i've been feeling like this might be actually the end of the world.

i hate to say that i'm glad to see you, but i'm glad to see you.

i wish i could stay in this moment forever... but then it wouldn't be a moment.

if that tornado came right now, i would just sit here and watch for a while.

i just feel like escaping.

i have total faith that you'll do the right thing when the time comes.

with great power comes great bullshit.

am i pushing myself too hard?

you like to hurt people, huh?

i'm glad you decided to escort me.

i know this is a bad time, but can i get one picture?

of course i believe you. you're the most amazing person i've ever met, and i'm glad you trust me.

i don't have a fucking clue what's going on.

[dreamerschroniclesofstories]

Hey love ! Hope you’re having a wonderful day/night 🩷

Could you please do a Tommy X reader where the reader works for him ( it could be his maid or secretary) and someone says something mean to them and they feel so humiliated that they leave. At first Tommy doesn’t know what happened until someone tells him and he goes ballistic and ends up defending her then they end up together 🩷 it could be angst to fluff please :) thank you so much

Sorry for any mistake !! English is not my first language

Hey lovelie! Thank you so much for your ask, I can definitely do that for you!. Hope you guys enjoy.

This fic will be based around season three, this means that Tommy and grace do not get married, in this she had Charles then left Tommy. Also, in this Lizzie is a bitch but its only for the purpose in the fic x.

Summery: request above

Word count: 2,321

When you were twenty, you had graduated from bed-ford college, which was very uncommon since not many people could read or write, but luckily your mother learnt you from a young age how to both which allowed you to complete your studies.

However, this meant that when people found out you were from London and had gone to one of the most prestigious colleges for young women, you were judged. Most people thought you were a privileged woman from a rich family. Unknownst to anyone but yourself, you aren't. You lived in a one bedroom apartment with your mother and two younger sisters. Your father had left your mother ,after your youngest sister was born, for a younger woman.

As you grew up, your mother had become ill, she had began to suffer from Melancholia, as her doctor described it. She never recovered from it and died when you had moved back home after graduating. When your mother died, your young sisters were left in your care and you decided you wanted to leave London and find somewhere else for your sisters to grow up. After nearly four years, you found your current home, Birmingham.

You loved your job, all you had to do was respond to letters for Tommy, make sure his schedule was up to date, make sure there weren’t any over laps and make meetings on his behalf. The only bad part of the job was sharing the room with tommys other secretary, Lizzie stark. At first, when she had started working two weeks after you started. She was nice, you spoke everyday, had lunch together whilst on break but once you started to get closer to Tommy she began to change.

At the beginning, you pretended not to notice, thinking maybe she was just having a bad day but every time you went into tommys office without knocking or every time Tommy comes in work, he stops to speak to you and asks you how your weekends been and how you sisters are, Lizzie would grumble under her breath and when you weren't looking would steal the paperwork Tommy gave you to sort out so she could do it and claim you weren't.

Today was one of the days that Lizzie was being extremely bitchy, it was a Friday afternoon which meant Tommy wasn't in the office most of the day. He was either at a meeting or in the betting shop. This left you and Lizzie alone.

You had just gone into tommys office to put the paperwork Tommy needed on his desk when Lizzie walks in as well.

“ Tommy has a lot of whores, one for each month, which one are you?”she sits down at the round oak table, getting out a cigarette then lights it.

You turn around to look at Lizzie and frowns, not understanding the purpose of this conversation “ what Mr Shelby does in his personal life is none of my business”

“don't act dumb, you know what i'm talking about Y/N” Lizzie spits, venom lacing her voice.

“ i don't think we should be having this conversation when Mr Shelby isn't here, its not appropriate” you asserted, picking up another pile of paperwork, being to walk back to the double doors that leads out to you desk and Lizzie.

The sound of scuffing catches your attention, making you stop walking and look towards Lizzie once again “ get off your high horse Y/N, this is Birmingham everyone is a whore, they don’t have money to act like they are better then everyone” Lizzie barked, pointing a finger at you.

Your heart begins to race, the blood running through your veins begin to rush to your face, causing your cheeks to begin to heat up, it was like someone had turned up your internal thermostat to the maximum and now your face is a shade of red that would make a tomato jealous.

“ i'm sorry if i offended you in some way, i did not intend too” you apologise, you knew you hadn't said anything offensive but you didn't like confrontation and you wanted to avoid yelling in any possible way.

Lizzie takes a drag of her cigarette “ you are so insufferable, i dont know how your family deals with you” she chuckles under her breath.

At the mention of your family, you take a shakey breath and turn away from lizzie “ i need to start this paperwork” . As soon as you sit back at your desk, you began to look through the paperwork but you couldn't concentrate. what Lizzie said to you runs laps in your head, making your chin begin to quiver as your eyes begin to fill with tears.

Unfortunately, at the same time polly walks through the main doors into the building, she walks over to you. Wiping under your eyes quickly,putting a smile on your face.

“ hello Polly, what can i do for you?” you ask softly, your voice breaking slightly as you try to hold in your emotions.

Polly raises an eyebrow and places her purse down on your desk, watching as Lizzie walks out of tommys office with a smirk on her face but as soon as she sees Polly, she quickly covers it with a smile.

“whats happened?” Polly asks, suspicion filling her words, looking between Lizzie and you.

“ nothing pol, just talking business” Lizzie puts on a smile and looks towards you, her eyes widening for a second to tell you not to say anything.

“yes, just business” you agree, nodding slightly.

Polly hums “ if you say so, anyway is Tommy free in the afternoon this week” she asks.

You grab his schedule from your draw and begins to look through this weeks page he's free Wednesday afternoon from two o'clock onwards” you grab your pen “would you like me to write you in for a meeting with him”

Polly smiles and grabs her purse again “ yes, thank you Y/N, your a doll” she kisses your cheek softly then leaves.

The visit from Polly, helped you distract yourself from the situation with Lizzie, you smile happily as you begin to write down the information bout polly's meeting in tommys schedule. As you begin to write in the book, the ink tub falls onto the page causing you to gasp.

You look up and see Lizzie standing in front of your desk, smirking. she lights another cigarette “opps, i guess you'll have to tell Tommy you ruined his book” she tuts, shaking her head.

Once again, your pulse begins to race, your heart starts to beat so incredibly loudly, louder then gunshots. Your hands shake as you begin to try and pat the ink with her handkerchief but it wasn't working.

“no,no,no” your eyes begin to well up with tears for the second time, in less them an hour. You look up at Lizzie, disbelief in your eyes.

“ why would you do that, this has all of Tommy's schedules” you ask astonished.

“ you don't belong here, I've known Tommy before you even were in Birmingham, i should be sat in your chair. Everyday i have to see you prim and proper, giggling at Tommy” Lizzie rants angrily.

Unknownst, to both of them. Polly was still behind the door listening to the conversation. she knew something was wrong so she wanted to listen in case they were hiding something.

Polly leaves the office, determined to find Tommy to tell him what she heard between his secretaries. however, she couldn't find him.

It had been a few hours since the incident, you were quiet s you write a letter to Tommy, you have decided to leave your position of head secretary, you couldn't cope with the daily taunting from Lizzie.

The sound of the door opening and close catches both of the women's attention, you stand up immediately when you see Tommy.

“ Mr Shelby, i need to speak with you if that's alright” you ask softly as you walk around your desk, to stand beside Tommy.

Tommy nods and lights the cigarette that was resting between his lips “ come through to my office miss Y/N” he gently places his hand on the small of your back as you begin to walk to his office with him.

As the door to his office closes, you didn't notice Lizzie watching you. Her eyes like daggers.

“please sit” Tommy nods to the chair by his desk as he sits in his own chair, slowly blowing out the smoke from his mouth. You gulp and nod, sitting down slowly on the cold brown leather seat. the coldness helping to cool down your skin.

“ I've been thinking for the past couple of weeks, and i didn't want to do this but its the best thing for me” you explain, nervously fiddling with the letter in your hands. Your hand shake as you give Tommy the letter “ i'm giving in my notice as Secretary, i will be leaving this company after we finish this conversation”

Tommy frowns, taking the letter gently “ may i ask why” he raises an eyebrow, looking towards your direction. you end up making eye contact for the first time during this conversation.

You smile slightly, your eyes showing that you were distressed “ no reason, i just feel ready to move on”

The next day

Tommy had organised a company/ family meeting, he had some business to talk about. Lizzie had to sit in the meeting since you use to but now you had left your position, no one else can do it.

Tommy had ordered two peaky blinders to watch your flat, wanting you to be protected since people knew you were associated with them.

The meeting had started nearly half an hour ago, however Polly just noticed Lizzie sitting at the table. She frowns “ Thomas, where is Y/N?”

Tommy sighs and leans against the wall, taking out his cigarette holder then opens it “Y/N has decided to move on with her career and no longer work for me” he announces.

Polly raises an eyebrow, glancing at Lizzie, seeing her smirk slightly “ have something to say Lizzie?” her voice full of bitter.

Lizzie shakes her head, no saying anything. Tommy nods and lights his cigarette “ Lizzie, by tomorrow afternoon i need an advert in the paper for a new head secretary” he explains.

Lizzie frowns “you're looking for someone else, i thought i would take that position” she admits.

Polly chuckles and shakes her head “ is that why you forced Y/N to leave? or is it because you want to fuck Thomas?” she quizzes.

Lizzie blushes slightly as Tommy raises an eyebrow and looks towards her.

“is that right Lizzie?” he asks, his eyes turning cold.

“ it wasn't fair Thomas, she came in and you gave her the job straight away without even knowing her” she snaps, putting down her pen. The room went quiet after lizzies confession.

“you were jealous of her so you made her feel bad about herself so much that she left her job? ey? are you fucking proud of yourself” his voice begins to rise as he speaks.

“it wasn't-” Lizzie begins to defend herself when Tommy interrupts her.

“ By the end of today, i want your desk cleared and you stuff gone, you're fired” he points to the door as he speaks, Polly smirking as she watches Lizzie stand up and rush out of the door. As soon as Lizzie left, a blinder rushes into the room.

“Tommy, shes leaving. we followed her to the train station. shes got bags and her sisters are with her as well” he states, catching his breath.

Tommy immediately grabs his coat and cap, rushing out of the betting shop.

At the train station

The sound of people yelling and rushing to and from trains fills your ears as you carry your bags, your sisters infront of her, walking towards the platform where your train back to London would arrive. The clunking and screeching of train engines makes you flinch slightly, you never get use to that sound.

Your train was due for another hour but you wanted to have enough time for your sisters to say goodbye to their friends before you went to the train station.

As you sat on the bench with your sisters, you didn’t hear Tommy calling your name since the platform was extremely loud. However, in the corner of your eye you see him walking over.

“ girls, stay here” you instruct, standing up.

You walk over to Tommy, looking up at him as you both stand infront of each other. However, you didn’t have time to say anything before Tommy kisses you. You didn’t know what to do at first but after a few seconds you felt your shoulders relax as you ease into the kiss.

Time slows, your lips felt like they were made to connect with each other. The feeling of Tommys hand on your cheek causes goosebumps to arrise on your skin. You had wanted his mouth on your for months, but now it’s happening, you want to savour the moment.

Your lips part softly, chasing tommys as he pulls away “ what was that for?” You whisper, biting your lip ever so softly.

“ I should have done it awhile ago” he whispers, stroking your cheek bone gently “ come back, I know what happened, lizzies gone” he explains, looking into his eyes. His pupils blown.

You smile, chuckling under your breath “ okay” you whisper, putting your hand over his.

Tommy brushes his pad of his thumb over your bottom lip. A silent harmony parts your lips as a soundless breath leaves your mouth. Your eye lids slide shut as Tommy leans in, brushing his lips across yours, feeling the coldness of his skin, like snowflakes trundling down from the sky. The soft pillow of your mouth gives Tommy the pressure that he longed for.

This is the light at the end of the tunnel, and you’re so glad you survived.

A/N: hey guys, I don’t really like this one. It feels rushed and it’s unedited so there are a lot of grammar and spelling mistakes. Please do like and comment, I appreciate all of your support ❤️

[ltbarnes]

‘Tis the Damn Season

Stark U #6

Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.

Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 7.8k

Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)

A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—

It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.

"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."

So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.

The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.

Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?

That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.

Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.

It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.

"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.

"What is it?"

"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.

"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."

"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.

There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.

The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.

In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.

Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.

"Shit, fuck—"

Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.

Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.

"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."

The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.

"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.

Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.

"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.

"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.

She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.

"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?

"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."

Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.

"Nooo. No Steve."

Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.

"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.

"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"

She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."

"I'm so drunk!"

"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."

Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.

Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.

"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.

You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.

"Out. I need to pee."

Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.

Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.

You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.

Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?

The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.

"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"

Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.

A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.

The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.

"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"

Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.

"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"

"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.

"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"

"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?

"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."

Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.

He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.

"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.

"Fuck, you're so—"

"She told you to let her go."

The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.

Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.

"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.

"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.

Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."

Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.

"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.

Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.

"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."

Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.

"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.

They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.

"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.

"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.

"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"

"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."

Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.

You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.

It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.

"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.

You nod. "Yes. I am now."

Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.

"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"

All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.

"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.

"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.

You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.

"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.

The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.

"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."

"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."

"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.

"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.

Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.

"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."

With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.

For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.

"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."

The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.

"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"

You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.

"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"

"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.

A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.

"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.

"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."

Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.

"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.

"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.

"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.

"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.

"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“

The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.

"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"

"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”

The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.

"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”

More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.

As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.

It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.

When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.

"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."

Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.

"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”

"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."

Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.

“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”

It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.

Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.

“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”

His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.

“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.

The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.

“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”

He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”

The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.

“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”

“I will be,” you whisper.

He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.

You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.

“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.

“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.

“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”

With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.

Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.

The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.

Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.

Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.

“Y/n, can we talk?”

Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.

Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.

“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.

“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”

You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”

“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“

“You got me a present?”

“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.

“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”

He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.

With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.

“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.

“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.

A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.

“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”

“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.

You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.

“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”

A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.

Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”

A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.

“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.

“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”

Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“

His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.

The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“

On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.

It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.

“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.

With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.

As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.

“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”

The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.

“Are you serious?” Steve asks.

“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”

“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.

“Go get our girl, Stevie.”

[veryberryjelly]

chamonix

pairing : dick grayson x reader

prompt : christmas shopping

𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲

with a lot of family and friends, christmas shopping could be one of the most hectic and chaotic things ever.

especially when the only day you were free to do it was a saturday.

when the world decided to crowd shopping malls and walk slowly to infuriate people.

but your trip so far hadn't been too stressful, until you were forced to separate from dick to buy his gift and for him to go and buy yours.

you had made the plan before you even left the house to buy family and friends gifts together, get lunch and then separate and that was exactly what you had done, and it was how you ended up walking through the mall in utter turmoil, unsure of what to get the most important person in your life.

you would think after being together for two and a half years that you wouldn't struggle every time you had to get him a gift but you did.

every time.

3 birthdays and 2 holiday seasons and every time you struggled.

you had been trying your best to think of anything you could get him that he would actually like, because you knew you could give him a sweater or something and he would say he liked it because it was you.

but you wanted to actually give him something he could like without including sympathy in the decision.

and because dick always got you an incredibly thoughtful gift you wanted to get him something just as thoughtful and that he would like just as much as you liked the things he had given you.

after 30 minutes of struggling you finally picked something out for him, setting it under the other things you had bought so he couldn't get a look at it through the top of the bag.

---

you had been nervous about the gift you had gotten dick since you bought it, but now that you were finally going to give it to him, you were even more nervous about it.

you two had made a lot of plans for christmas day.

you were going to spend the morning with each other and then head to the tower for lunch with everyone else.

after waking up and making coffee & tea, you settled comfortably on your couch with each others gifts set on the coffee table.

dick presented you with a box which you unwrapped to find three baking books you had had your eye on for a while, two of which were signed by the author which you thought was amazing.

you were already making plans to bake tomorrow morning, if not to thank dick with it, then to show your appreciation for the books.

you held on tightly to the hardbacks when dick started pulling his gift from the bag.

at the mall you had only bought him a thermal fleece sweater, but at the bottom of the bag was his actual gift.

" what is this ?" he asked, more stunned than confused.

" that is two tickets for 6 days at a cabin in Chamonix. thought i could finally teach you how to ski " you explained, a nervous smile on your lips.

you hoped he liked it but there was always the possibility he would hate it.

he didnt say anything, instead quietly moved your books from your lap as to not damage them and leapt onto you, causing you to laugh as he pushed you back against the couch.

his face buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered kisses onto your bare skin.

" i love it, thank you... you didnt have to do this, baby " he said, pulling back from your neck to look at you.

" this isn't only for you. i'm coming too, and i get to embarrass you with all of the photos "

----------

@jambo-rat

[vettelsvee]

I HEREBY ANNOUNCE MY RETIREMENT | Sebastian Vettel

history series masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram

summary: seb has finally done it. he has finally shot the video for the retirement announcement alongside his wife, his three kids, his sister and, of course, britta. everything seems perfect except one thing that the vettel couple has been avoiding: the apple tv offer to do a documentary about their journey in formula 1 for the past 15 years.

word count: 2272

warnings: none of them! just husband!seb with their kids and his wife + the retirement video being shot

taglist: @theseerbetweenus if you wanna be tagged in each part just tell me in the comments <3

feedback is truly appreciated!

2022

Switzerland May 10th

"I hereby announce my retirement from Formula 1 by the end of the 2022 season."

Diana, who was in front of his husband, nodded her head while she was standing next to his sister. The Aston Martin driver was focused on reading everything he had to say thanks to the prompter he had a few meters away from him.

After a pause, Vettel continued reading the speech he prepared with a huge effort for more time that he'd like to remember. The German was absolutely conscious that his life would change the moment that video was published, and he was every time more aware that there was no time to go back.

"As much as I love life on track, there's life off track too," he said. "The decision of me retiring hasn't been an easy one, but after talking with myself, with my wife and many more important people in my life, I came up with the conclusion that it's time to take a step forward. If I say that Formula 1 hasn't been a crucial part of my life, I'm lying and I'd be just a hypocrite. I got many achievements as a driver, but also the biggest one a man could ask for: having the opportunity to form your own family."

Britta, his PR, looked and analyzed her client's voice and gestures. After many years together, their relationship went from a just professional to a familiar one. The woman tried to think about the impact the words of the four-time world champion in the biggest motorsport category would have on people, but those moments were tough to think about.

"As many of you may know, my job demands an enormous effort both physically and mentally. For this reason I would like, from now on," the voice of the bond man began to tremble slightly with contained emotion, "to dedicate more time to my family: my wife, Diana, whom you all know for being the one who made my first victory possible, and the one who's been by my side as a strategist since 2012; and, of course, to my little ones, Emily, Charlotte and Matilda. Every time I come back home, they've grown at least five centimeters!"

The little girls, who were barely aware of what their dad's message would entail, were busy playing with their aunt, Lara, a game she suggested: to stay as quiet as they could, so the winner would be the first to talk to uncle Lando that day.

"I want to be the father and husband they deserve," Seb continued, looking tenderly at his daughters playing and the baby Diana was holding. "I want to be there for every significant moment, every laugh, every tear, every achievement, and every failure, because if there's one thing I've learned over these past ten years is that, in order to succeed, sometimes we must experience failure first."

Diana, with the emotion running through her veins, tightly grasped her sister-in-law's hand while, quickly, tried to wipe away the tears in her eyes.

"I would like to take this moment to express my gratitude to every team and teammate I've been working with, whether they're a driver or not. And last, but not least, to the fans of the sport," he paused briefly:" you've made my life both heaven and hell most of the times, and even though there have been ups and downs during these 15 years, I genuinely thank you from the bottom of my heart for the support you've given me after all this time."

Once Sebastian nodded his head, Britta rushed to turn off the camera that was in front of him. Finally, the German could breathe a sigh of relief, although there was still something more important that he had to face with Diana.

The looks the women gave him were a mix of nostalgia, support and price, though the latter was most prominent. Immediately, the little girls ran to their father, who was still sitting in the chair where he had remained throughout the recording. Seeing his oldest closer, followed by the middle one, he decided to get down on his knees with his arms open and ready to give them a hug.

"Daddy, I'm so proud of you," said Emily, clinging tightly to her dad's neck, "now you'll be able to take us to school because we'll be able to go to school!"

Sebastian laughed, wrapping his daughters with his arms, taking special care not to harm Charlotte who, due to her shorter stature, barely reached her father's chest. She withdrew with a swift movement, and then, once her sister had given her green light, she raised her little arms while approaching Vettel, who picked her up in the air and carried her on his hips.

"I love you so so so much, daddy," the middle daughter of the Vettels said, brimming with joy while playing with the driver's curls.

Vettel gently kissed the younger one's cheek and tousled Emily's hair, affectionately taking her by her shoulders in order to bring her closer to him, on the opposite side where her sister was.

"I've spent a lot of time with the fast guys, so now it's my turn to be with you and mom", the man explained to his girls. "In fact, I'm pretty sure aunt Lara will visit Lando more than once." "Uncle Lando!" Charlotte squealed in his ear, correcting her father. "It's uncle Lando, daddy," corrected the girl.

Lara approached her brother with a knowing look, silently conveying that she would take the girls and the baby so that he could have that intimate conversation with his wife about the documentary that had talked a lot. Sebastian nodded in agreement, and he started to feel a sense of tension as the dark-haired woman extended both hands towards her nieces, and took little Matilda in her arms.

"What do you think about FaceTime with Lando, little ones?" suggested Lara. "We can explain to him the game we've been playing so he can join us the next time he comes over." The girls, excited to talk to the British driver they liked so much —unlike a certain Dutchman who had dated their aunt previously— quickly took Lara's hands and dragged her towards their playroom.

"Yes, yes, let's call uncle Lando!"

Their almost simultaneous voices could be heard in the distance. Finally, only the married couple and their public relations remained.

Britta had tried to talk to the married couple on multiple occasions about the offer that Apple TV had presented to make a documentary about the four-time world champion's career at the end of the 2021 season, but the efforts had been in vain. Now, with the ultimatum that the publicist had received from the streaming platform just a couple of days before, it was clear that they couldn't avoid the topic anymore, and Diana and Sebastian Vettel were aware of it.

"Seb, Di," the older woman began, "I know you both have a completely different view on the documentary, but the answer is simple: yes or no."

Vettel sighed, feeling his body tense up.

"Britta: you, of all people, know everything I went through at RedBull," the German explained, trying not to get upset. "You know that the hate and negative criticism were constant, and they didn't stop no matter how much not only me, but also Di, proved otherwise."

"We need to weigh the pros and cons before making a decision, boy," Britta replied, "even though we don't have much time for that."

"Sunshine," Diana joined the conversation, "I understand you're afraid, but you can't let your past hold you back. Plus, we've matured over all these years, and I think it's the perfect opportunity to silence many of those who spoke, and still speak, against us."

The PR nodded in response to the driver's wife's words, acknowledging that both viewpoints had some merit.

Still, there wasn't a clear answer yet.

"Sebastian, trust me, I completely understand what you're saying, but you have to consider the incredibly positive impact this documentary can have not only to you image, but also to you projects. Obviously, you image was 'cleaned up' the moment you joined Ferrari, and you weren't seen as the enemy anymore, but..."

"Britta", the redhair interrupted, "I'm sorry to cut you off, but I'd like to remind you that during my husband's time at the red team, they were still playing dirty tricks on us," she explained, her voice tinged with anger. "Not only we were hounded by paparazzi almost all the time, they also leaked a private video of us! And do you remember when I went into labor, and they chased Charles, Mick and I? And many other things that you, from everyone, knows."

Neither of the other two knew how to respond to Diana.

"You have no idea what I've had to face," the driver's wife continued, "every day, for all these years. I don't regret accepting the offer Toro Rosso gave me back in 2008 to be an intern while I studied my degree," she explained, "but I don't think I would have accepted it if I had known everything I would have to go through to live my happily ever after."

"Darling..."

"No, Sebastian!" the youngest woman shouted, furious, pushing her husband's hand away. "I don't want to sound selfish, and you both know it well... Honestly, I don't want to be resentful or hurt those who talked shit about us, but I'd love people to know our story, or real story, from our point of view."

Britta didn't know what to say in response to the words of the girl she had known for many years, but she knew she was right. Sebastian, on the other hand, reflected Diana's words for a few moments that felt like an eternity. His wife sometimes was scary as hell, and that was one of those moments he didn't like to face.

Finally, he spoke with a trembling voice:

"Alright, let's do it," he announced as firmly as he could, cautiously getting closer to his wife.

Minutes later, they were all seated on the family room sofa, ready to formally discuss the terms they would set with Apple TV in the upcoming meeting to commit to making the documentary. Once again, Sebastian was the first one to speak:

"I want to make sure that the documentary portrays a complete picture of our years in Formula 1," the man explained. "I don't just want them to focus on the challenges we've faced, but also on the achievements we've made. I want people to understand that there's more beyond all controversies and manipulations."

Diana agreed with her husband.

"I'd like to address the issue of sexism that has been surrounding this sport for years, and everything I've had to face to make myself a place in the industry," she said. "I want to be seen not just as Sebastian's wife and mother of his children, but also as the engineer who made possible not only his first F1 victory, but also two consecutive world championships."

Britta listened carefully to the couple's comments while taking notes on her laptop, essential to discuss the terms with the production company. Once the married couple finished, the publicist went out to explain what she had discussed with Apple TV:

"According to the draft I received," she began to explain, "which, by the way, you haven't read yet, it states that they are willing to work closely with you to make sure that your story is told fairly," she lifter her gaze from the PDF document to look at both of them. "Diana, they would also be proud to address issues related to sexism because it's still very much present in the sport today."

Sebastian and Diana nodded, satisfied to hear the contract details from Britta. However, there was still an important matter for the family to discuss:

"I, also," Vettel continued, "want to establish boundaries regarding the privacy of our personal lives: we want to share our story, but not intimate details, and certainly not about the girls. They are the most important ones here, and even though they're our greatest gifts, they shouldn't be part of this narrative. Also... you know what happens with Michael. That is the best kept secret."

"No problem, Seb," the PR answered, "we'll make sure to add that both in the email I'll be sending and in the meeting we'll be having next month with the program's executives and producers. Not the Michael part, of course."

"Do we already have a date for it?" Diana asked with interest.

"Next month," the older woman replied, noting the busy schedule Sebastian would have leading up to summer break. "Specifically on June 22nd, just a few days after the Canadian Grand Prix."

She continued discussing details related to the production schedule, the technical resources that would be used to have the best quality possible and, most importantly, how the announcement of the documentary would be made and how the episoded would be distributed. She emphasized to her clients that nothing was signed yet, and changes could still be made in the future.

Sebastian and Diana, once again, agreed with everything Roeske discussed with them, felino a mix of emotions between them that they had never experienced before, not even during their worst moments.

"I know we're ready for this new chapter, girls," Seb declared, looking at the two women who had accompanied him throughout his professional racing career and had never left him behind. "They're finally going to hear us, whether they like it or not."

[heavyhitterheaux]

Thankful For You

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

Synopsis: A nurse who has been taking care of the triplets ever since they were born has a surprise for you and Jack in your first holiday season as parents and you realize the amazing tribe of people that you have behind you want nothing but the best for the both of you

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

First Lady of Private Garden Masterlist

Warnings: mention of d*ath

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Your hands were shaking as you were trying to zip up your coat and they were soon covered by Jack's who simply held onto you for a second before leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“I got it, baby.” He told you as he finished zipping it up and wrapping your scarf around your neck.

“Thank you.” You quietly said, attempting to not burst into tears.

Thanksgiving was going to look a little different this year seeing as Axel was still in the NICU and Ivy and Autumn had come home a month earlier. It was still very touch and go with him and your only wish this holiday season was to not have to bury your second born.

“You're welcome. You know I got you.” He replied before leaning down to kiss you.

While the two of you went to the hospital to spend time with Axel, your mom offered to keep Ivy and Autumn and the two of you promised that you would be over later.

You and Jack obviously weren't in the mood to celebrate the holidays or be around anyone, but you thought that it would be a good distraction from everything else going on around the two of you.

Jack held your hand as the two of you walked to his jeep and helped you inside while he jogged around to the driver's side. The radio was on a low volume as he started up the car and headed towards the hospital.

The two of you were riding in a comfortable silence as Jack reached over to take your hand in his and bring it up to his mouth so that he could place a kiss on the back of it.

You looked over at him and gave him a small smile.

“You know what I'm thankful for today?” He asked you as the two of you finally pulled up into the hospital parking lot.

“Hmm, what would that be?” You asked as you undid your seatbelt and looked over at him.

“That I can wake up every morning and still see my beautiful wife next to me. I really thought that I was going to have to live without you and I don't know what I would have done if that became a reality.”

“You know me better than that. I wasn't leaving without putting up a fight and I'm definitely thankful for that too. I feel for the mothers who don't even get to see their children after they give birth to them. My heart just breaks knowing that could have been my reality. I didn't even see Axel, they immediately took him.”

“I know. But if he's anything like his mother, which I know he is, he's still fighting because he wants to be here.”

“I feel that I don't sleep well at night because I am so on edge. I just wait for the phone to ring and…” You started to say as you felt the tears coming on and Jack immediately reached across the console to bring you into a hug as you cried into his chest. Jack didn’t really sleep at night either, not since the night that you came home and the nightmares started up again. 

He soothingly rubbed your back as he comforted you the best he could.

“He's being strong for us so we need to be strong for him. We made some amazing kids who I know are going to go on to do amazing things. This is only a setback and not the end all be all.” Jack said as he looked down at you to wipe your tears as you nodded and he kissed your nose, making you smile.

“Let's go see our son, he's waiting for us.”

Once the two of you got to the unit and washed your hands, Jack was the first one to pick up Axel who was still wearing oxygen since he had gotten extubated two days before.

You and Jack had lost count of how many times this had happened since he had been born and the crazy thing was that he had only been alive for three months.

“Hi baby boy, it’s daddy.”

Axel immediately perked up from hearing his voice and opened his eyes to look at him which immediately made you smile.

Just then, Cara, who was a nurse and had taken care of all of the triplets numerous times since they had been born, came over to the three of you and smiled. Her sister was actually the nurse who had taken care of you when you had first woken up in the ICU.

“He had a really good night and today is going well for him. When he goes into a deep sleep, we're going to try and turn down his oxygen a little bit more and mom, if you want to feed him while you're here, by all means.”

You immediately nodded and smiled as you stroked his cheek as Jack was still holding him.

“How are my other two doing? Ms. Ivy and Ms. Autumn?” She curiously asked as she adjusted Axel's oxygen in his nose.

“They're fine. Even if they've been home for a month we're still trying to adjust to everything.”

“It'll take time, but you'll get there.”

As Jack was still holding Axel, he immediately took hold of his finger and tightly held onto it.

“He looks like you.” You whispered as you were admiring the two of them.

“You think so? I think he looks like you.”

“Yes and now I'm understanding why I had so much heartburn. Look how much hair he has and he definitely got that from you.”

“He's definitely going to get all the ladies. He already has all of us wrapped around his finger.” Cara said as he ruffled his hair.

“Even though technically you two are the celebrities, he's a celebrity here in our unit.”

“I believe it.” You answered as Jack handed Axel to you to feed him.

“I swear you get cuter every time I see you. Jack, we made cute babies.” You told him and all Jack did was smirk.

“Yeah, he got that from me.”

“Jackman, don't start.” You said while laughing and starting to feed Axel.

“Well, did I lie?” 

All you did was look at him and shake your head.

“You don't have a serious bone in your body.”

“You've been with me since you were fifteen, and you're just now noticing?”

The two of you stayed with Axel the entire morning and majority of the afternoon when Cara came up to the two of you as you were getting ready to leave.

“Hey, I wanted to catch the two of you before you left.”

“Yes, what's going on? Everything okay?” Jack asked her as he was zipping up his coat. 

“Everything’s fine. Follow me and I can show you.”

Walking hand in hand behind Cara down a few long hallways, you both finally reached one of the family rooms that they had that the two of you had come to know all too well in the last three months, but before Cara opened the door she turned back to the two of you.

“I just wanted to say that I know that this hasn't been easy for you and there's been a lot of uncertainty and I just wanted to tell both of you that you're doing an amazing job and those three have some amazing parents. I know the last place you want to be on Thanksgiving is in a hospital so I got a little help to do this for the two of you.”

Once Cara opened the door, the two of you saw both of your families surrounding a table full of food as well as Maggie holding Ivy and your dad holding Autumn.

“Cara… this is…” Jack started to say, but all she did was smile.

“It was both of your parent's ideas so I just made it work.” She said while shrugging.

“Well we appreciate you either way for everything that you’ve done for us.” You replied as you and Jack pulled her into a hug.

“Thank you for taking care of our babies as well as you have.” Jack added as you were attempting to not to cry for the third time today.

“You're welcome. Now let me get back to your little man and you two try to enjoy the rest of your day. Just bring me a slice of pie.”

“You and the unit are definitely getting more than just pie.” You said as she brought you into another hug.

“Go and enjoy your family while I take care of your smallest one.”

Cara walked back to the NICU as you greeted your parents, your in-laws, Clay, Dani, your grandparents as well as Jack's grandparents, both of your aunts, uncles, a few of your cousins and of course the triplets godfather who takes his job a little too seriously, Urban before you were ordered by Maggie to sit down.

“You guys didn't have to do this for us.” You quietly said, but Maggie immediately shook her head no.

“Yes we did and we wanted to. A lot has happened this year and it was only right.” She quickly answered as everyone began to fix their plates.

Dani came up and hugged you from behind and kissed the top of your head and squeezed you tightly as you held onto her.

“I love you so much and don't you ever forget it. I'm so happy my baby girl is still here. I don't know what I would have done if I had lost you.” She whispered in your ear and you were doing your best not to cry.

“I love you too.” You answered as Urban then came up to you.

“My best friend in the entire universe.” You said as you held your arms out towards him and he quickly reached down to hug you.

Since Urban had been the person that you had told about the letters that you had written before they did your c section, when he showed up to the hospital and saw Jack’s face full of tears, he immediately knew that Jack needed to read the letter you wrote for him.

Urban obviously took it extra hard and didn’t want to believe that anything bad had happened to you, but when it was just you and him in your hospital room as you were intubated and Jack had gone to see the triplets, he promised you that he would do his best to look out for him and the triplets like you asked even if the last thing he wanted to think about was being without one of his best friends. 

“Lil Bit! And I know what you’re about to say, I saw my family earlier, but I knew my second family needed me too and I wanted to see my mini me.”

“Well your mini me is doing amazing according to Cara. I just hope we can bring him home soon.”

“I’m thankful that you’re still here because I have no idea what we would have done without you.” Urban whispered in your ear and it took everything in you for you not to cry.

“Urby.”

“You don’t even have to say anything, but just so you know, I would have kept the promise that I made you and the rest of PG are on their way as we speak since we didn’t get to do our friendsgiving this year.”

All you did was nod towards him as Jack placed your plate in front of you along with your drink before kissing your cheek which instantly made you smile.

You told him thank you as everyone began eating.

Ivy was asleep in your arms since Maggie had handed her to you and she was content as you were eating your food while Autumn was wide awake in Clay's arms looking around to see what was happening. She was nosey and you knew that she had gotten it from you.

“How is Axel doing?” Your mom asked the both of you since the last she heard was you crying on the phone a few days ago because he had to be intubated again.

“Better. He's on oxygen and Cara said they might be able to turn it down later depending on how he does and he's feeding really well.” Jack answered as Ivy began to shift on your arms. You began to rock her back and forth and she settled back down.

“One step closer to coming home.”

“And that is literally all we want and all we could ask for.”

“You two are doing an amazing job and you know that we're here for you. Anything that you need, all you have to do is tell us.” 

“We appreciate that.”

Everyone had finished eating as you were simply laying your head on Jack’s shoulder who had your hand in his and was rubbing small circles on the back of it as Ivy and Autumn were being passed around and being admired by your family members how much Ivy looked like you and how much Autumn looked like Jack. 

“Now you know what we have to do. Go around the table and say one thing that you're thankful for.” Maggie said and Jack volunteered to start.

“I already told her this earlier, but I'm thankful that I still have my wife. I know that I have a tribe behind me and the babies would have been fine, but I know my life won't be the same without you. So thank you for fighting as hard as you did so that you could live and see our babies grow up.”

“You're going to make me cry for like the millionth time today, but I'm thankful for you too. Despite all that happened, we beat the odds and we're still together and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Thank you for all that you do for me.”

“My parents!” You heard Urban say and all you did was laugh.

“But you know where to find me once you drop him.”

“Oh lord. Here we go.” You heard 2fo say over his plate of food and you were wondering when he had come in because you hadn’t seen him or the rest of PG for that matter who was sitting next to him.

“Since when did yall get here?!”

“A few minutes ago and we see Clay is still being the annoying little brother who takes his role very seriously.” Quiiso added which made you stifle a laugh.

“CLAY! Just because it's your birthday doesn't mean I won't kick you into next week.” Jack exclaimed while glaring at him.

“Will you really hit me while I'm holding my niece?”

“Hand her to Dani and meet me outside. I don’t want her to witness this ass whooping you about to get.”

You simply shook your head at the two of them going back and forth and realized how thankful you were for your amazing friends and family that would do anything for you, Jack as well as your triplets. 

The road ahead was probably going to be anything and everything but easy, but as long as you had them in your corner there was nothing that you wouldn’t be able to achieve. 

Once the two of them were done arguing and glaring at each other, you tugged on Jack’s hand and told him that you wanted to talk a walk and just have a few minutes with him without anyone interrupting and he immediately nodded.

The two of you were just taking a stroll around the perimeter of the hospital hand in hand when you finally broke the silence.

“Baby?”

“Yes, mamas?”

“I love you and would do anything for you even though I have already told you that a million times today, I just….. I know that I haven’t been the perfect wife and have a lot to work on but….”

“There’s still no one in the world that I would rather do this with. We both have a lot to work on and I love you too. All we can do is take it one step at a time. It’s going to be okay and our triplets will be okay.” Jack answered you as you brought him into a tight hug, thankful that you were still able to do so.

“So, when can we make another one?” Jack asked you while smirking and all you did was playfully hit his arm.

“Talk to me in about four years and we’ll see.”

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21

@variety-fangirl

@gbaabyyyy

@kamorsstuff

@harlowthot

@sinsandsuccubus

@curlyhairclub

@bootlegroach

@haylexo10

@thinkingaboutjharlow

@fluidsentiment

@charli123456789

@moody4world

@yourstrulymayah

@yana4life

@beanbagbitch

@alinaharlow

@carma-fanficaddict

@minaxcarter

@arination99

@xjup1t3r

@venusvinc

@jackharloww

@midnight-star47

@minkookie95

@inluvwithladybug

@exoticr0ses

@jharlowsangels

@jackierose902109

@knack4harlow

@cmalass

@megawhoree

@softtcurse

@sia2raw

@miniaturehideoutmentality

@hoya122

@nattinatalia

@jackslover12

@skyesthebomb

@jackharlows-world

@louisianalady

@fdl305

@automaticpeachsong

@harlowcomehome

@gassyandsassy1

@babygirlwilly

@amethyst09

@harrycanyonmoonn

@bout-mine

@tattered-tales

@sisiking99

@dessxoxsworld

@gillybear17

@jacksdaycare

@iheartharlow

@disaster-rose

@babyvinnie

@evansxchalamet

@chtkmyharlow​

@itsyagirljaz

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@awhore4moree

@a-moment-captured

@jackmans-poison

@valentinqee

@lightsoutstyles

@j-worlds-blog

@middlechild404

@0elliotswhore

@iknowdatsrightbih

@w1ldthoughts

@love2loveonme

@hufflewhore128

@shawtypoison

@fantasywritersstuff

@harlowtales

[princessasmosprincess]

Sunkissed

Summary: After a fun day at a Human World beach, the brothers realize they're sunburned.

Characters: The demon brothers and GN Reader/MC (it could be Asmodeus x Reader if you squint because this is my fic and hey, you're the one who came to the Asmo kissing blog).

Genre: Sickfic (kinda), humor, fluff

Warnings: Canon-typical sibling on sibling violence, sunburn, nonsexual nudity, mild canon-typical innuendo, no major spoilers but MC is in possession of a certain object they obtain in season 2.

***

“I might have to get rid of that new toner we bought, MC,” said Asmo as he held the door open for you. “My face hurts.”

“Really? My skin feels fine.” You’d known demon skin to be stronger than your own in most cases, so this was perplexing.

Asmo had purchased the toner with you only three days ago from a Human World store famous for selling the most exclusive skincare. It had gone viral online despite its steep price tag, so naturally Asmo had to buy it.

Asmo gasped. “You don’t suppose it contains holy water, do you?”

“That’s not really a common skincare ingredient in the Human World,” you said.

“Humans don’t use it to purify their skin?” He asked.

You shook your head, suppressing a laugh. “But maybe there's something else in the toner that doesn't agree with your skin, let’s take a look at the bottle.”

“Ok! I’ll go get it. And while I'm at it I’ll prepare a bath for the two of us,” He slipped his arm around your waist, leaning into you with his charming smile.

“Maybe…” you said, bumping him gently with your hip.

“We can even try out those bath salts I brought back for you, wouldn't that be nice?”

You had to admit a relaxing bath did sound nice right now. You and the brothers were just coming in from a day at the private beach Diavolo owned in the Human World. The beach was protected by a magical barrier, cloaking it from anyone not authorized to be there. You and the brothers were free to do whatever you wished, including using magic.

It had been a very full day. In the morning you'd surfed a little with Beel, needing to relearn most of what he’d taught you before. And then as soon as you got back to shore, you’d been pulled into a water fight “to the death” that had begun when Satan dumped a handful of sand down Lucifer’s rash guard while he was resting in the shade. You’d mostly been used as a shield between Satan and Mammon against Lucifer. You didn't really mind, though, since you got to see Lucifer's conflicted expression every time he faced you; not that it had really saved you in the end, you’d ended up soaked anyway. Then, Asmo had whisked you away to collect shells in the water with him, with the assistance of mercandy. You’d so enjoyed being merpeople together on your last beach trip that this was truly a treat to experience again. In the water you’d gotten to watch Levi swimming with Lotan, from a distance, of course. Satisfied with the shells you’d collected, you and Asmo dragged yourselves back onto the beach and fell asleep under the umbrella with Belphie, completely exhausted from all the swimming you’d done. You hadn't woken up until the sun had shifted and you were no longer in the shade. At the end of the day, you and the brothers got to watch porpoises breaching in the distance as the sunset lit the sea in shades of pink and gold.

You were grateful the beach Diavolo had lent you came with a vacation home (more like a mansion) just steps away from the shore.

“I call the first shower!” Mammon declared, kicking off his flip-flops.

Levi grabbed his arm before he could run up the stairs. “No, I get the first shower. There’s a raid starting in an hour and I want to login early.”

“Too bad, little bro,” Mammon wrenched his arm out of Levi’s grip. “Hierarchy says I get to go first since I'm older.”

“Really, Mammon, if that’s the case then I’ll be taking the first shower.” said Lucifer.

The three oldest brothers shared one of the mansion’s bathrooms, while the youngest shared another (minus Asmo, since Barbatos had set up a portal to his bathroom at the House of Lamentation). You had your own private bathroom as well, but you didn't mind letting the brothers use it from time to time. It seemed like that would be happening tonight if you ever hoped to have a peaceful dinner.

“One of you can use my bathroom tonight,” You left the three oldest brothers in the foyer to argue, now that an offer to use your bathroom was on the table. You needed some water, you were starting to get a headache, you’d probably had too much sun.

Beel was already in the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge for something. Belphie was nearby, sitting at the kitchen island as he rested his cheek on the cool marble counter.

“We’ll have dinner soon, Beel, I just need a drink of water and I’ll get started cooking.”

Beel tossed you a water bottle before grabbing one for himself.

“Can I have a snack while I wait?” He bit into a nectarine, coming to lean against the counter.

“Well you’ve already started.” You teased. You took a long drink of water, mentally checking off all the ingredients you’d need to start dinner. Hopefully one or two of the brothers would agree to assist you, it would go much faster with help.

Beel rolled his cool water bottle against his neck, “I think I missed a spot when I reapplied my sunscreen,” he said. “Can you take a look for me?”

“Sure,” you slipped off the sunglasses you were still wearing as Beel turned around for you. “Oh, Beel I think-”

A blood-curdling scream tore through the mansion.

“Wha-” Belphie woke with a start.

You took of running upstairs, towards the source of the scream. You and the twins were the last to arrive at Asmo’s bathroom.

Asmo threw himself into your arms. “Oh, MC! I’m hideous!” He began to cry. His face was red everywhere except where his sunglasses had been, leaving a white impression of their shape behind, “I don't know how you can bear to look at me!”

“Asmo, you’re not hideous,” You stroked his hair. “I don’t think that’s even possible.”

“I’m not?” He sniffed.

“Not at all, you’re just a little…” You trailed off as you looked around the room. Lucifer, Levi, Satan, Beel, and Belphie (in addition to Asmo) were all severely sunburned. Several of them had already begun to shift uncomfortably. “You’re all-”

“MAMMON WHAT DID YOU DO?” Satan roared. Judging by the dark aura surrounding him, he was about to shift into his demon form.

“Wha’da’ya mean, what did I do?” Mammon ran to hide behind you for protection.

“Clearly this is your fault,” he seethed, the aura beginning to dissipate a little since you were in front of him, but his eyes were on Mammon, “We’ve been cursed, you probably wronged some Human World witch and now we’re all paying for it.”

“While that does sound like something he’d-” Lucifer began.

“You’re not cursed,” said Mammon, cutting him off. “You just have a sunburn.”

Satan paused. “You're saying this happened because we were outside in the sunlight?”

“Yeah,”

“Is this true, MC?” He looked at you.

You nodded, “It happens to some humans, too.”

“I did remind you to reapply your sunscreen earlier, Satan.” said Lucifer.

Satan growled. “I didn't think it would actually do anything. I’ve never had a sunburn before.” You noticed the new freckles sprinkled across his nose and cheeks. He would have looked so adorable if not for the anger glowing in his eyes.

“Really?” Beel asked.

“Me and Beel and Asmo used to get sunburned all the time when we snuck down to the Human World.” said Belphie.

“That was before sunscreen existed,” Asmo added. “I would never go out without putting it on now. Earlier I just–” He burst into tears again.

Belphie ignored him, continuing to talk to Satan, “You’ve been here a fair amount and it’s never happened?”

“I’m typically summoned to the Human World at night.” Satan answered flatly. “As are most demons, I’d wager.”

“Satan, your poor, virgin skin!” Asmo sobbed.

“My what?”

“Did anyone remember to reapply?” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, recalling that even he hadn’t remembered after the water fight, and then he’d even removed his rash guard, exposing himself further.

“I remembered, and I also put some on Belphie’s face,” said Beel. “But we got burned anyway,”

“What sunscreen did you use?” You asked.

“This one I got from Mammon,” Beel handed you his bottle of sunscreen. You read the label, it was 20 years past its expiration date and the brand name was misspelled.

You shot Mammon a look over your shoulder.

“Must’a got mixed up with my newer stock– uh, purchases.” he lied.

You looked around at the demons in front of you. All six of them were varying shades of red. Satan and Levi seemed to be in the worst condition as they’d been in full sun for most of the day. Asmo, Lucifer, and the twins hadn’t fared much better despite taking advantage of the umbrella’s shade. You could feel the heat of Asmo’s skin on yours, plus more warmth radiating off of Satan. It had to be so painful.

Satan turned back to you and Mammon. “Why don't you two seem to be affected?”

“I don’t get sunburns,” Mammon smirked before ducking behind you again when Satan turned his glare on him.

“Father blessed him with a golden tan complexion,” Asmo pouted. “He was like that when we were angels, too.”

“And you, MC, are you immune like Mammon or do you have some sort of talisman against the rays of the sun?” Satan asked. “I don’t understand how a human could be unaffected when we are all suffering.”

“I don’t have any special talismans, I put on sunscreen before I went outside just like everyone else,” You looked down at your arms. You hadn't been sunburned at all, and you hadn't reapplied your sunscreen either. Your eyes caught on the gold ring you wore on your finger.

“You might have been protected by my Ring of Light,” Lucifer said with a small smile, echoing your thoughts almost exactly.

The others nodded. It was a very powerful magical relic.

“Well now that we've cleared that up,” Satan said through thinly veiled rage. “How long is this agony supposed to last? It feels like spiders are crawling all over my skin.”

You really didn't want to tell him. Judging by the severity of his sunburn it might be… “A week?” you said. “Sometimes it takes longer. But most of the pain occurs in the first few days or so.”

Satan looked like he was about to explode with rage or drown Mammon in the bathtub. Maybe both.

Lucifer cut in before he could do anything. “As we are demons, our cell turnover is faster than humans, which will shorten our recovery time. It will be about 48 hours until we fully heal, I’d estimate, but that also means we’ll be feeling the worst of it tonight.”

***

You sent the sunburned demons downstairs to the living room, directing them to ice their skin while they waited, so you and Mammon could collect supplies. The mansion was well-stocked thanks to Diavolo and Barbatos preparing it for you ahead of time, but only with Human World essentials. They had wanted you to feel right at home. You doubted the brothers kept very many potion ingredients in their rooms, and definitely not anything that could give relief from a sunburn.

You had Mammon fetch the first aid kit from the kitchen cabinet while you looked through Asmo’s and Lucifer’s skincare collections to see if they had any skin-soothing products. When you were finished, the two of you deposited your loot on the living room’s coffee table. Mammon had found a tiny tube of lidocaine cream, one packet of colloidal oatmeal, and a small jar of aloe gel. You’d come up with a bottle of unscented body lotion and two small tubes of expensive healing ointment; you’d also found a half-full bottle of demon-strength ibuprofen in Lucifer's things, which would definitely be needed to get through the next couple of days. These were your only supplies. You might be able to get the aloe gel to stretch between your six sunburn victims but it would be pretty scarce. As for everything else… you’d cross that bridge when you got there.

Asmo and Beel got started slathering healing ointment and lotion on Belphie who was whining in his sleep.

You scooped some aloe gel into your hand so you could administer care to Satan as Mammon did the same with Levi.

Satan started reciting cat poems under his breath as you rubbed the cool gel into his skin as gently as you could.

“MC, there’s a bottle of Demonus in the basement fridge.” said Lucifer. He sat next to you, his perfect posture rigid, as if moving at all would cause him immense pain. “When you have a moment, please go get it.”

“Demonus would be really nice right now,” Asmo hummed, pressing a generous amount of healing ointment onto his own cheeks.

You gave a sympathetic smile, “You both know that’s just going to dehydrate you and make your skin feel worse.”

You knocked two ibuprofen into Lucifer’s palm as consolation. He gave you a look, taking the bottle from you. He poured out four more into his hand and then passed the rest to Asmo.

SMACK

Levi screamed at the top of his lungs.

“MAMMON!” You and Lucifer yelled at the same time.

You rushed to Levi’s side only to see the perfectly white handprint of Mammon’s slap contrasting with his lobster red skin. Levi began to cry, inhaling a ragged breath as tears started streaming down his face.

“He insulted me after all I’m doin’ for him?” Mammon defended himself. “He called me a scumbag!”

“Go help Lucifer,” you snapped.

“Ok, ok, I’m goin’.”

Levi couldn’t catch his breath, his shoulders convulsing as his sobs came out in a silent cry. It was a bit disturbing.

You gently placed your hand on the handprint. “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated.” A gold flash sparkled under your hand as you recited the spell. Levi slumped against your shoulder, breathing once more. For once, he wasn't embarrassed that his bare skin was touching yours.

“Are you ok?” you asked him.

He sniffed a few times, still shaking, “The pain from the slap is gone but my skin still feels like it’s on fire,” he said, wiping away a tear.

You had a feeling the healing spell wouldn't be strong enough. It had been worth a try, though.

“MC,” Satan called your attention from the other side of the couch. “The aloe gel has dried and the infernal itching has returned.” He squirmed in his seat.

“Here, try this,” Mammon slid an ice pack over Satan’s shoulders.

“THAT’S MAKING IT WORSE!” Satan tore the ice pack from Mammon’s hands, throwing it at his face and knocking his sunglasses off.

“Ow!” Mammon rubbed the red mark just beginning to bloom on his cheek.

You sighed. This was proving more difficult than you’d expected. There wasn’t enough aloe gel to apply on each brother twice. You needed to come up with a solution.

“Is there any chance we can use a duplication spell on this?” You slid the jar to Mammon, who was still holding his cheek in pain.

He picked up the jar and scanned over the ingredients list. “There’s too much stuff in here, between the two of us we might end up with somethin’ similar but there’s also a chance it’ll make everything worse. I ain’t Lord Diavolo.”

You looked at the dwindling supplies on the table. Asmo and Beel had already exhausted the first tube of healing ointment. “That means we can’t duplicate any of that, either?”

“Probably not.”

“I’m hungry,” Beel complained.

Right. Everyone still needed dinner.

Lucifer handed you his credit card before Mammon had a chance to register what was happening. “Just buy anything we need. Supplies, takeout, I really don’t care right now.” He picked up the tube of lidocaine cream and squeezed the entire contents into his hand, rubbing half of it into his own chest and the other half into Satan’s shoulders.

Well, that certainly made things easier. You turned on an animated movie for them to watch while you and Mammon went to the kitchen. You picked a random takeout menu that was stuck to the fridge and ordered meals for everyone, and Mammon sat at the island and searched Akuzon for sunburn relief products on his D.D.D.

“Does Akuzon even deliver to the Human World?” You asked as you hung up the phone.

“They do for demon lords,” said Mammon as he added another item to the cart. “Levi pays for the premium shipping rate so they deliver anywhere.”

“You’re using Levi’s account?”

“Got locked outta mine…”

You sat next to him, helping him choose the best products to heal his brothers’ damaged skin. Lots of aloe gel and healing ointment, analgesic products too. You also purchased a balm that was supposedly infused with magic to speed up the healing process. The bill would be several hundred Grimm but you didn't think Lucifer would mind, considering the circumstances.

“We got three hour delivery, we just gotta keep ‘em happy ‘till then.” said Mammon.

“NO!” Asmo shrieked from the other room, right as the doorbell rang.

“That’s probably the food,” Mammon sighed, “Do you wanna find out what Asmo’s problem is or should I?”

You pressed your hand to your heart, your pulse still racing from being startled. “It would be better if I went to him,” You were less likely to start a fight between the brothers just by entering the room.

Mammon went to answer the door while you returned to the living room.

“Is everything alright?” You asked tentatively.

“Everything is not alright,” said Asmo. “How dare those disgusting eels tip over their boat, Ariel was just about to get her true love’s kiss!”

You breathed a sigh of relief. It was just about the movie.

“Mmm, eel…” Beel was almost drooling.

“Would the kiss have even worked?” Satan mused. “How could it be true love, Eric just barely learned her name and they’ve known each other for two days.”

“I wonder,” you smiled.

“Come sit with me, darling,” Asmo pulled you onto the couch between him and Lucifer, nuzzling into you, his skin still feverishly warm, “This movie is wonderful. Have you seen the sea witch’s makeup? I should try something like that for fun, don’t you think? It’s such an iconic look.”

They all seemed really into it, which left you pleasantly surprised. Satan was trying to figure out if the story would end the bittersweet way the original fairytale did, Lucifer argued that it wouldn't be appropriate for a children’s movie to end tragically; their conversation was very lighthearted and almost academic. Levi was using his tablet to draft cosplays of various characters from the film, asking you who you wanted to be. Beel was commenting about all the fish he’d like to eat every time they appeared onscreen, while Belphie hummed along to the score. Mammon brought in the food and then everyone was glad to eat while finishing the movie.

There wasn't a dry eye as the credits rolled after Ariel finally got her happy ending with her prince. Not even yours. A mermaid leaving her family to live with her true love in another realm, the irony wasn't lost on you.

“That was great,” said Mammon, dabbing at a tear with a handkerchief, “Should we watch another?”

Belphie’s shoulders shook as he cried quietly.

“What's wrong, Belphie?” Beel asked as all eyes turned to the youngest.

“M-my skin st-still h-hurts,” he hiccuped.

You were worried about that. They’d all been distracted by the movie for a while, the pain was bound to kick in once it ended.

“I’m starting to feel it again, too.” Lucifer popped a few more ibuprofen capsules.

“How much longer until the delivery, Mammon?” You asked.

He checked his D.D.D. “They’re a hundred stops away, should get here by ten.”

“That's two and a half hours from now,”

The brothers began to complain. You didn't blame them, they were still suffering, but it was starting to give you a headache on top of the one you already had. You needed to placate them and clearly Disney movies weren't enough.

They'd used up all of the supplies, the empty containers littering the table. All that was left was the packet of colloidal oatmeal. You picked it up.

Ingredients: Colloidal oatmeal 100%

“Everyone upstairs to Asmo’s bathroom,” you instructed. You took Mammon by the wrist and led him to the kitchen.

“Now what?” He asked.

“This has only one ingredient,” You held up the packet.

“So we can duplicate it. Good idea, MC!”

Mammon helped you locate a large mixing bowl and you emptied the packet into it. You both waved your hands over the bowl, reciting the duplication spell in unison. You had to repeat the spell six times to have enough for what you needed to do.

When you got upstairs, the brothers were all standing around the bathroom looking very uncomfortable, Asmo had already started filling the tub.

“Everyone needs to strip,” you tossed each of them a towel.

The room broke out in half-hearted groans. You were sure if their faces weren't so red from sunburn, most of them would have been blushing.

“It’s nothing I haven't seen before,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“What?” Mammon’s gaze shot to you.

“Nothing…” you gave an innocent smile.

Mammon crossed his arms, muttering something to himself.

“I c- I can’t strip in front of my brothers!” Levi whined.

“It’s no different than bathing at the hot springs,”

“Yeah but I usually–”

You raised an eyebrow, “Are you really in a position to be complaining, Leviathan?”

“N-no…” Levi sniffed.

“MC, look over here, ” Asmo cooed, winking. “I can strip for you, like a good boy.” He swayed his hips, dropping the towel from his shoulders. “Doo doo-doo doo-doo doo doo doo,” he was singing his own sexy background music.

You just stared at him.

Asmo bent down, giving you what was supposed to be a sensual smile, his lips curved wobbly and his eyes were hazed with pain and unshed tears as he moved. But the show must go on, as they say. “Touch me, tease me, feel me up,” He tossed his hair, sliding his hands to the waistband of his swim shorts, beginning to roll them down. “Touch me, tease me, feel me– AHH!” He screamed as the fabric brushed against his inflamed skin.

“Asmo!”

His swim shorts dropped to the ground unceremoniously, as he writhed in pain. Everywhere the shorts had previously covered was porcelain white. He squeaked, picking up the towel to cover himself. This was not how he wanted you to see him.

The others followed suit in a less dramatic fashion, all stripping out of their swimwear, some more bashful than others for being naked in front of you. You and Mammon dumped the contents of the bowl into the tub, allowing the running water to mix it around.

“Get in,” you said.

And they obeyed.

There was just enough room for the six of them to fit in the tub comfortably. They all relaxed in the warm water, their skin finally feeling soothed. They were quiet. Belphie fell asleep right away, and Satan’s eyes no longer glowed with barely concealed rage.

You sat down on the padded bench next to the tub, your muscles untensing at last, Mammon passed you a water bottle and a single demon-strength ibuprofen, just enough for a human headache.

“Thanks,” you took it, sinking deeper into the bench’s soft cushion.

“I’m gonna go put some music on,” he said.

“Sure, go ahead,” You said, your eyes slipping closed.

When Mammon returned with the portable speaker, you were fast asleep.

“Shh…” said Lucifer.

Mammon set the speaker down and lifted you into his arms.

“Thank you, MC,” the brothers each whispered as Mammon carried you off to your bedroom for a well-deserved rest.

“Sleep well,” said Mammon.

***

Cross-posted on AO3

[libraford]

Idk maybe it's because I'm autistic and don't get how things are supposed to work (I also haven't been able to work for over a decade due to disability so take this all with a heap of salt) but it feels like she needs someone to blame for problems.

You said last year there were three leads but this year you're doing the work of three on your own. Did they quit or get fired? Maybe someone else was the assigned "problem child" last year? But the fact that you didn't get any useful feedback at the times problems supposedly happened and they continued using your work...it just reads like a power trip on her end tbh

One of them left to become a veterinarian and do photography on the side. The other one of them left because there was a pretty big death in the family and also oldest kid was going through his senior year. Both have said that they might come back, but so far neither of them have committed.

The two of them were nearly perfect leads. Like they did all the paperwork properly and had all the details right and they didn't rush and they rarely did anything wrong.

Except when they did. And since I learned from one of them, I learned on all of her mistakes.

So I've had to be retrained.

Again and again and again.

There would typically only be one lead per job, so its not like I'm doing the work of three people the way I was doing the work of like... 7 people at the flower shop. I am still doing the work of one person, but I am doing it every day instead of only two to three times a week.

So the mistakes I learned are more obvious now and I am put in positions where previously I was not, like having to call as soon as there's a problem- because previously I was not often having these problems. I get dinged for not following procedure for this.

She tried training me on groups last year, but every time there was a chance to learn on the job something interrupted it. The first time it was because the person we had doing individuals was going painfully slowly and she had me set up my unit to clear out the bottleneck. The second time it was because our individuals photographer went into labor.

So I've been trained wrong on a bunch of things and had to be retrained. Attempts to train me properly have been interrupted, but she thinks that I received proper training and that I should be good to go.

So I do it. And I do it wrong. Over and over again.

And then I get the critique and there is disagreement between my boss and her boss about how I'm supposed to have done it.

And then I try again. And there's disagreement between my boss and me about how I was supposed to do it.

So my spirit is fuckin' crushed lately and I just want to get to the end of the season but of course there's YET ANOTHER critique at the end of the year where she says I'm bad at receiving critique when I've had to be retrained several times in several different areas, and she claims that NOTHING HAS CHANGED FROM MY INITIAL TRAINING even though documentably it HAS, which makes me feel like a fucking crazy person for suggesting that its hard to keep up with the changes sometimes.

And she says she's tired of arguing with me about how things are supposed to be done when I'm supposed to KNOW how things are done by now because this is my THIRD year in the business and why am I so argumentative?

At the last groups job, I asked her to help be out a little bit and check my work to make sure I was doing it right. I wasn't even done with the first group and she jumps in and tells me my numbers are wrong, changes it all and that's how we found that the guides were different. But when I talk to her about what made me mad there, she has a different story- she says that I did 2 or 3 classes wrong before she jumped in. Which is not what happened to my recollection.

I've asked her to take a more passive role and she got mad at me because she swears that she did take a passive role and now I'm being inconsistent- because I asked her for help and now I'm asking her not to get her hands in it. So now I'm confused again because I remember that day completely differently, and when I asked the rest of the crew they said that she was being pushy. Once she left and I was on my own, I did fine- but being unable to even get through a whole class without her jumping in to save the day kind of crushed me.

So I think she's misremembering a LOT. And making it my problem for bringing up inconsistencies, confusions, and changes. Either that or I have worse memory problems than I thought I did.

And now I'm being told that I go too fast. Because there were days last season where we were done an entire hour earlier than we were supposed to be. And I asked her- did people complain? Were my photos bad because I was fast?

No, no one complained. We had less retakes this year than we did any year.

If no one complained, then the problem is that I'm not taking time with the students to get the perfect photo. The problem is that you don't think I could possibly be that good and that fast at the same time. But if a kid only needs thirty seconds to get the pose, why should I take more time than is needed?

My photos have improved significantly from my first year. Oh my god, they've improved so much. But I'm struggling to learn a new, complicated thing for which I've gotten mixed messages and not gotten a lot of consistent guidance on.

And because I get confused when something is different from what was described, I am told that I can't take criticism.

Well yeah, no- if that's the criticism you've got for me, no I can't take criticism.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Epilogue

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: None.

Word Count: 5,849

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: So this is it, the epilogue, the end. I'm so sad to say goodbye to this series. I've really loved writing it, even if it kicked my ass a couple of times. I know I've said this already, but it definitely bears repeating - I'm so unbelievably grateful for the love and support you've all shown this series. Thanks so much - and I hope you enjoy this little peak into Dean and Y/N's lives a decade later. This ended up about twice as long as I'd planned. Lol! Enjoy! ❤️

Main Master List || Series Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

Spring, 10 Years Later

The rumbling engine of the Impala was silenced as Dean pulled into the garage and parked Baby in her spot. The camp had eight cars now, so they'd had to expand the garage two summers before. The cars got shuffled around all the time, but Baby always kept her spot on the end. Everyone knew it was her spot.

The late afternoon sun shone in through the garage windows as Dean removed the keys from the ignition and pushed them back into his black, denim jacket pocket.

Sam was sitting beside him and shot him a questioning look when Dean didn't immediately jump out. “Dean?” 

Dean nodded and then looked over at his little brother. “Do you think I did the right thing?”

Sam sighed. He'd already answered this question from his brother, in various forms, three or four times. 

The Deerling Survivors Camp, a small camp located almost seventy miles away, had sent a message to Dean a week earlier, requesting a face-to-face meeting. Dean had asked Sam to come along and they'd stayed overnight at the fledgling camp. The pseudo-leader there, just a young kid who’d been thrust into the role, had asked them to let Deerling join Camp Chitaqua, and after seeing the shape of the camp, Dean had agreed on the spot.

Years earlier the four smaller camps surrounding Chitaqua had joined them, expanding the camp by miles and miles and raising the population by more than two hundred people. It had been a big decision, and Dean had consulted with the council for a couple days before agreeing to the expansion. 

It was a very good decision in the end, since they now had enough land to plant six, four acre farm plots. They made sure to rotate crops, leaving one field fallow every season and using it for grazing pasture. But all that fertile land meant that the campers all had plenty of fresh vegetables. Their expanded size also allowed them to enlarge their barn, so they could now house and care for four cows and a bull, two horses, dozens of chickens, a rooster, two pigs, and eight sheep. 

They'd bartered and traded with other camps for most of their animals or found them wandering around alone and unclaimed. But they bought their sheep from a farmer living in what used to be Iowa. A lot of farmers had started over there, scratching out a new life from the soil, now that the world had started turning once again.

Seven years ago they'd finally succeeded in producing a vaccine. It had taken a lot of hard work. For three years, every single person that worked on it did so with nothing more than a promise of a better tomorrow. 

It had taken another two plus years to get the word and the vaccine out to people, but now most of the population was vaccinated. The vaccine had also been carried overseas. They couldn't be sure how things were going across the pond because communication was still very limited. But they'd heard rumors that it was going well. 

Some infrastructure was up and running again; they had electricity in some places, and some cities had running water again. There were even some places that had phone lines connected - in and around the bigger cities where people were beginning to congregate.

Things seemed to be progressing quickly out west in the former California, where they'd reportedly started broadcasting some form of Television again. Not very many people had TVs anymore to watch, but it seemed comforting to people just to know something resembling their former lives was returning. 

Not everything was perfect, of course. There was no centralized government, or structured, widespread laws. Most areas had variations of camps like Chitaqua with leaders in charge, or occasionally small, internally elected governments that ran the camp. Lawlessness still existed in a lot of places, but it was being beaten further back every day as groups banded together. 

There were also still some areas that were uninhabitable because massive groups of Croats still roamed there. The researchers that had created the vaccine were working on a cure for those who’d already been infected, but thus far they’d proved unsuccessful. Croat attacks still happened sometimes, but the vaccine meant that people just had to deal with the bite itself, making sure it was healing properly - something that was becoming easier as medical stations were springing up in and around larger populations as well, as doctors went back to healing people as they’d been trained to do.

Chitaqua had a physician, Dr. Turner, who lived in the camp. The Medical Tent was no more and instead the doctor’s office and their cache of medical supplies were now housed in a big log structure that had been tiled inside to keep it as clean and sanitary as possible. Patrick was happy to be rid of guard duties these days, working alongside Dr. Turner to watch over the health and well-being of the campers.

There weren’t many tents left nowadays either. They had a bunch stored away in case the camp ended up with a big influx of new campers and temporary housing was needed. But most people lived in log cabins of varying sizes, dotted over the two and a half square miles of the camp. There were well over five hundred people in the camp now, since amalgamating the four other camps. They also had a reputation for being a prosperous, strong community, so people tended to migrate there as well - which continued to add to their numbers.

Now, after the meeting with the Deerling camp, they’d be adding another ninety-six people to their ranks, inflating their population to nearly seven hundred people. Dean was worried about the fact that he’d made the decision to absorb the smaller camp without consulting the council this time. 

The council was a group made up of eight other people besides Dean. Sam and Y/N were on it, as well as Brandy, Risa, Dr. Turner, and three other campers who were there representing the hunters, the farmers and the builders.

Day-to day decisions were still handled by Dean, but he relied on the council for other bigger decisions - taking their thoughts, ideas and opinions into account before he ultimately made a decision. Agreeing to take in another flock of people and develop another thirty acres of land was definitely one of those big decisions he’d normally take to the council, which was why, Sam knew, Dean had been second guessing his unilateral decision to say yes to Deerling’s request.

Sam shook his head at his brother as he answered Dean’s worry again. “Dean, you acted out of generosity, the council will understand. I can vouch for the fact that those campers need a lot of help very quickly. Those kids were starving, you could see that.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I know, but I just brought the camp more strain on resources with no benefits.”

Sam shrugged. “Well, there’s the land.”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah, unfarmable land that’s separated from us by almost eighty miles. And Brisbane camp sits between us and Deerling, and they already think we’re trying to take them over. Joining with a group on the other side of them is gonna make them even more suspicious and possibly turn them unfriendly.” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I should have consulted the council.”

“Dean, there’s no way the council would have opted to just let a bunch of kids and sick people die. They’re definitely going to agree with your decision, and this way you’ve simply ensured that we can get food and medicine out to them by tomorrow instead of making them wait days for it. Trust me, you made the right decision.”

Dean grunted his response, still unsure. 

Sam slapped the back of his hand against Dean’s shoulder. “Now, I’m gonna go talk with the Doc about getting supplies together and coming out there with me tomorrow. Will you talk with Brandy later about food?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah.” A smile finally lit his face. “And then I’m goin’ home.”

Sam smiled and opened his door to climb out of the Impala. “Good plan. Give Y/N and the kids a kiss for me.”

Dean climbed out too and slammed his door behind him. He called Sam back as his brother began to walk away. 

“We should also figure out a time and day to have a sit down with the new leader from Brisbane, talk with her about our intentions regarding Deerling. She’s tough, but she seems more approachable and level-headed than their last leader. Maybe we can convince her we’re not looking to take anything over.” 

Sam nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

Dean frowned. “What’s her name again?”

“Eileen Leahy.” 

Dean noticed his brother’s cheeks turn pink and he immediately turned back into an annoying big brother, his grin wide. 

“Right, right, you met with her alone last time. She’s cute, huh? Something we should know? Maybe you should invite her over to our place for dinner next week. We can have our little sit down conversation then. What do you think?”

Sam had already turned and started walking away. “You’re an idiot!” He called back over his shoulder. But Dean made a mental note to tell Y/N all about it later. 

With Y/N firmly in mind he started out across the camp. Their cabin was situated on top of a low hill in the Southwest section of the camp, not all that far from where their old red tent used to sit.

They’d built their cabin when they came back to Chitaqua eight years ago after helping to set up the research facility. The vaccine was still a year away, but they’d done all they could do and they were ecstatic that after two years of traveling back and forth from camp, gathering doctors, researchers and searching for other psychic kids, (they’d only found two others) and after Y/N had given gallons of her blood to science, they could finally come home for good. 

Not long after returning home, Y/N realized she was pregnant and Dean became obsessed with building them a beautiful home. It was around that time that the camps had all joined together and building homes for everyone became a priority of the camp. 

The builders grew in numbers as they took on apprentices and taught them the trade so that more people in the camp could join in the work. It took almost four years of constant building, but eventually all five hundred plus campers had permanent homes.

Gotta pull the tents out for the Deerling folks, Dean thought as he walked, his mind immediately occupied with figuring out the logistics of where the new campers could stay, and how they could join in the life of the camp, once they were all healthy.

He stopped by Food Storage and spoke with Brandy as Sam had requested. And just as his brother had suspected, when he explained the situation, Brandy was one council member who was very glad he’d made the decision he had. He felt more sure now that the others would feel the same.

As Dean wound his way through camp he got stopped quite a few times, people wanting to talk with him about one concern or another. He generally pointed them in the direction of the person or group in the camp that could help them. But he also got stopped by friends wanting to say hi and talk for a moment or two.

He was happy to talk, but anxious to get home to Y/N.

He looked out towards the large school building where Y/N still taught every day. The new building had been built on the site where the main cabin had been burned down. It was even bigger than the old cabin, with six rooms for the seven teachers that worked there now. 

Y/N was also the principal of the school for all intents and purposes; she and the other teachers taught over two hundred kids from ages five to sixteen. Theresa had finished school and immediately joined the staff as a teacher, working with Y/N every day and loving it. Brandy was so proud.

But Dean wasn’t surprised to see the building empty now, however; he knew it was a day off. He picked up his pace, weaving through the buildings that resided where the old tents had taken up space. 

They’d greatly expanded the food storage, and had an entirely different rations system now that fresh vegetables, fruit, fish and game made up the vast majority of their diet. Brandy was still in charge and was constantly innovating to make things easier and to stretch their food as far as they could in order to feed everyone. 

The former tent area also housed three large storage sheds, a small building that worked as an office/meeting space for whatever group needed to use it, and a small mill where they processed the wheat they grew - that process had included a steep learning curve, but they’d eventually made it work.

There was also a small, open area where a kind of market had popped up organically as the campers traded amongst themselves for things like homemade jewelry, homemade clothes, and other non-essentials.

He walked behind the buildings and began climbing the gently rising path that led to their cabin at the top of the hill. About halfway home he heard loud barking and looked up to see their seven year old Bernese-Husky cross, Clifford, bounding towards him, the way he usually did when any of the family came home. 

“Hey, boy.” Dean said softly, scratching him behind the ears. “Miss me?”

Clifford barked happily in answer and ran ahead and then back to where Dean stood, obviously urging him on towards home. Dean laughed and sped up, chasing after the big dog who sometimes still acted like a puppy.

As the path through the trees ended, opening up into their wide front yard, Dean sighed deeply. “Home sweet home.” He murmured. 

Even though he'd been away less than two days, he was still so happy to be home. He felt the peace that filled him up every time he stepped around the last bend in the path and caught sight of their home in the distance.

The way smoke curled lazily from the chimney and the scent of something delicious wafted through the half open Dutch door, never failed to make him ache to get his arms around his wife and bask in her light. Dean shook his head at his sentimental thoughts, but hurried his pace to get inside. 

As he drew closer however, something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye and he turned his head to see his son walking East, coming out from behind the house. Dean figured he was heading over to his friend Freddie's, and he was about to continue on into the cabin, but then he noticed what his eight-year-old was holding in his hand.

“Gabriel Eric Winchester!” 

Dean's voice bellowed out, freezing the young boy where he stood. Dean strode towards him, anger clear on his face. To the boy's credit, even when he turned and saw his father's anger, he still walked forward slowly, until he was standing directly in front of him. 

The gun he held, however, was tucked just behind his back, as though he was hoping Dean hadn't noticed it. 

Dean held his hand out. “Give that to me this second.”

Gabe's face fell and he brought the gun forward reluctantly, dropping it onto Dean's palm. 

Dean immediately checked to make sure the small, .38 caliber, Smith and Wesson revolver was unloaded and when he saw it was, he held it in his fist, directly in front of Gabe's eyes.

“What the hell do you think you're doing with this?”

His son's eyes were wide and they got watery quickly. 

He shrugged. “I was just gonna bring it to Freddie's. Josh said he could teach us to shoot.” He said, referring to his friend’s older brother. “Just cans on a fence.” He was quick to reassure Dean.

“And did you ask your mother if you could remove a gun from the weapons chest?” Dean asked, already well aware of the answer. 

Gabe shook his head. “No.” He said quietly.

“How did you get it?” Dean asked brusquely.

Gabriel’s voice was still soft as he admitted what he’d done. “I grabbed it yesterday when mom took out a rifle to scare away some raccoons that were trying to get into the compost. Josh said he could teach us if we had guns. So when I saw it last night I just…” He trailed off as he looked up at Dean's face.

“So what you're telling me,” Dean said quietly, “is that while your mother's back was turned you STOLE a gun and planned to use it without asking either of us for permission.”

Gabe's tears spilled down his cheek at his father's disappointed tone and accurate words. He nodded and then sniffed. 

“I'm sorry.” He said thickly. 

Dean crouched down so he could look his son in the eye. “Gabe, a gun is not a toy. I thought you knew this. It's not something to mess around with or use on a whim. It is a weapon. It's incredibly dangerous. If you'd gone off and started shooting, even just at cans, you could have seriously hurt or killed yourself or your friends. Do you understand me?”

Gabe nodded but bit his lip. “But you carry a gun.” He said, pointing to the ever present gun strapped to Dean’s thigh. “And you started using guns when you were even younger than me. I heard you talking about it to mom before. And I…” He sniffled again. “I just wanted to be like you.”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “Oh, buddy, I want you to be so much more than me. Your mom and I, we've worked really hard to make things better for you guys, to make the world safer so that when you grow up, hopefully you won’t have to walk around with a gun strapped to you at all times. It’s my job to protect the people in this camp. That’s why I carry a gun, and why I sometimes carry a rifle. But that’s not your job. Your job is to just be a little boy.”

Dean saw Gabriel pout a bit about being called a little boy. He smiled gently and squeezed his son’s shoulders. “Trust me, buddy, you should enjoy being a kid, don’t try to grow up too quickly.”

Gabe nodded begrudgingly and Dean pulled his son in for a hug. After a moment, he pulled back from him and stood up straight again, before nodding towards the cabin. “Go to your room now until supper, and when you come out, you’ll owe your mother an apology for going behind her back. Also, nothing but school and home for a week, do you understand?”

Gabe looked like he wanted to argue, but thought better of it when Dean gave him a stern look. “Yes, sir.” He said in acceptance and turned to run into the cabin.

“Gabriel!” Dean called. When his son turned back, the tear tracks on his grubby cheeks still visible, Dean spoke quietly but with conviction. “I love you and that’s why I know you can do better.”

Gabe’s face lost some of its forlorn look and he gave Dean a slightly awkward smile, lightly banging his fist against the side of his leg. “Love you too, Dad.” He said quickly before bolting for the house.

Dean shook his head and slipped the gun into his inside jacket pocket. He’d have to have a few more conversations with his son about gun safety and responsibility, but he was confident he could drill the dangers into him.

He walked up the stairs to the front door, more than ready to see Y/N and his girls. When he walked inside, however, he could hear voices coming from behind the kitchen door, and they didn’t sound very happy.

He pushed open the swinging door and saw Y/N and Emma inside. Y/N’s face lit up. “Dean!” She said happily as she saw him and crossed to the door to pull him down for a kiss. 

“Ew.” Emma said.

It was the standard reaction from all of their kids when they kissed in front of them. Emma had a hand over her eyes as Dean finished the kiss and looked over to where she stood by the sideboard that held all their plates, cups and glasses.

“You can look now, kiddo, we’re all finished.” Dean told her with a grin. “For the moment.”

Emma rolled her eyes and made Dean chuckle. Y/N frowned up at him. “Did I hear you yelling at Gabe?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, gotta talk to you about that, but you guys sounded angry when I came in. Anything wrong?”

Y/N looked at Emma and shrugged. “I’ve been telling Emma that she needs to invite her new friend for dinner.”

Dean’s brow wrinkled as he looked at Emma. “You don’t want to bring your friend over for dinner?”

Emma looked at Y/N with frustration, clearly annoyed that she’d told Dean anything. 

Dean tried again. “What’s going on kiddo, since when don’t you want us to meet your friends? Who is it, by the way? Didn’t realize any new kids had started at the school.”

Y/N shook her head. “Jeffrey’s not a new student, he’s just a new…friend.” She said meaningfully. 

Dean caught on and his face immediately dissolved into a scowl. “Oh.” He said without enthusiasm, crossing his arms over his chest.

“See?” Emma barked out, pointing at Dean, but talking to Y/N. “I told you this is how he’d be!!”

“What?” Dean asked defensively. “What are you talking about?”

Emma folded her arms, her posture and scowl mirroring Dean’s. “You get like this every time I bring a boy home, even when he’s absolutely just a friend. You scare the shit out of them!”

“Emma!” Y/N said, reprimanding her for her language..

But Dean just scoffed. “I don’t know what you mean. How do I scare them?”

Emma glared at him. “You interrogate them, Daddy, you know you do.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, if they’re too freaked out to answer a few simple questions then-”

“Simple questions?” Emma interrupted with a humorless laugh. “When I invited Timothy Sutherland over here you forced him to sit down and answer a thousand questions about his family, his background, where he grew up, what his plans were when we finished school. He ran out of here and never looked back.”

Dean threw his arms out. “Do you really wanna date a loser like that anyway? Who can’t even answer a couple questions?”

“Ugh!” Emma stomped her foot and stormed out the back door. 

Silence reigned for a moment when Emma left before Y/N turned towards Dean, giving him a tilted smile. “So, welcome home!” She said in a would-be cheerful voice.. 

Dean sighed as he pulled her back into his arms and kissed the top of her head. They enjoyed the simple peace of each other’s embrace for a few minutes before Y/N spoke.

“What happened with Gabe?” She asked.

“He stole a gun and was gonna go shoot cans with Josh and Freddie Young.”

“What?” Y/N shouted, pulling back to look into Dean’s face.

He nodded. “Yeah, but don’t worry, I handled it. He’s in his room till supper and he’s grounded for a week. And I talked to him about how dangerous guns were. I have more conversations planned around the subject for the near future.”

Y/N shook her head before laying it back on Dean’s chest. “Good lord.”

After a couple minutes Y/N pulled away and poured them each a cup of coffee. They settled beside each other at the wooden table and instinctively linked fingers.

Dean took a sip of coffee and sighed. “I don’t really interrogate all her boyfriends, do I?”

Y/N pursed her lips. “Well, she’s never actually had a real boyfriend. And I don’t think that's because boys don’t want to date her. She’s smart and kind, beautiful and well-liked. So…” She shrugged. “It seems probable that the boys who like her are just too intimidated by her father - you know, the legend who fought monsters, Croats, angels, and WON - the soldier that leads the camp, wears a gun, and asks scary questions, all while donning a very good mean-face.”

Dean exhaled loudly, but before he could respond, their youngest child came bouncing into the room. She was just six years old, and looked so much like Emma at that age that it sometimes caught Dean off guard. 

But she was definitely her own little bundle of energy. Having never known hunger or hardship, she was all bright smiles and busy excitement. It seemed as though she’d been born smiling and simply hadn't stopped. Very little bothered her, and she was absolutely spoiled by the entire family, including their found family members in the camp.

Everyone loved Hope.

“Daddy, you’re home!” Hope shouted as she jumped into his lap.

“Oof.” He grunted as she landed hard on some sensitive places. “Hey sweetheart!” He said, slightly out of breath. 

“I missed you. Mommy said you might not come home until tomorrow, but I said that you would come home quick because you like to be home and you don’t like to stay away. Right?”

He nodded, trying to keep up with her racing words. “Yeah, baby, I love to be home.” 

Before his sentence was ended Hope was on to her next thought. “I saw Emmie running out the back door and I tried to talk to her, but she looked mad. She was sitting on the tree swing in the back and I wanted a turn, so I told her to push me, but she just helped me on the swing and then she left to walk through the front yard and leave. And when I tried to follow her, she told me not to leave the yard and to go inside and see you cause you were back. So, I did.” She paused for breath before asking, “Why was Emmie mad?”

Y/N answered. “It’s nothing sweet pea. Why don’t you help me make supper? You can shuck the corn.”

Hope clapped her hands. “Yes, I want to pull all the strings off.” 

Y/N held her daughter’s hand as she hopped off of Dean’s lap, and then leaned forward to kiss Dean slowly. 

“Ew.” Hope said, shielding her eyes as her sister had. 

Y/N smiled against Dean’s lips and whispered to him. “Go talk to your daughter.”

Dean nodded and stood up, bending to kiss Hope’s shiny chestnut curls on the crown of her head. “Hey, promise me something short one.” He said, continuing when she looked up at him. “Promise you’ll take a really long time to grow up, okay?”

She smiled at him, cheeks round and rosy. “Okay, daddy.”

He winked at Y/N who smiled indulgently. “She promises.”

***

Dean instinctively knew where he’d find his oldest child. She coped with stress and frustration the same way he did, the way he’d taught her to. 

He walked through the door of the garage and sure enough, there was Emma, wearing old, blue coveralls that were too big for her, and bent over the hood of the little Chevy hatchback that sat next to the Impala. He knew she heard him come in, but she didn’t say anything, just kept working. 

Dean hopped up on Baby’s hood and waited for her to be ready to talk. Eventually, she caved and looked over at him, her face slightly shuttered and a little hard to read. “Hi.” She said simply.

He smiled at her. “Hey kiddo.” He nodded at the open hood she was under. “How are things looking? Still need a new oil pan?”

Emma shook her head. “No, I replaced that last week. Risa found me one in the back of the storage shed.”

“Good.” Dean said. They were both quiet as Emma leaned back in and continued working. 

After a moment she cleared her throat. “Looks like I’m gonna need new brake pads though. Think we could go to Lowry’s and see what he’s got.” She asked, referring to a guy in Brisbane who collected car parts and often traded with them.

“Sure. I’ll be busy for the next day or so. But we can go after that. One day after school?” He asked.

Emma nodded and stood up, wiping her hands on the rag she had stuffed in her pocket. She was quiet as she slammed the hood closed and then stepped out of the coveralls and hung them up on the hook beside the door.

She wandered over to Baby and hoisted herself up beside Dean on the hood. After a moment she leaned her head onto his shoulder. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Dad. I’m glad you’re home.”

Dean lifted his arm so she could snuggle closer, and then wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, squeezing her into his side.

“No, you don’t have to apologize, baby. Apparently I’ve been unconsciously scaring away the tons of boys who would otherwise be beating down our door. Though, if I’m being completely truthful, it probably wasn’t entirely unconscious. Cause I just know not a one of them is gonna be good enough for you.”

Emma chuckled. “I don’t think it’s tons of boys, Daddy. And I’m not interested in a bunch of boys. I’m interested in Jeffery. And I really do want you to meet him. I think if you give him a chance you’d like him. He’s really sweet and funny and just…” She sighed. “I just like him.”

Dean squeezed her again and felt his chest constrict with love and bittersweet memories, remembering how she used to crawl into his lap and let him read her to sleep. Those days were long gone, but she was still that little girl to him and she probably always would be. But he knew she was growing up and he needed to loosen his grip, at least a little.

So he sighed now and nodded. “Okay, kiddo. If you like him, I’m sure I’ll like him too. So, invite him over for dinner one evening and I swear to keep my questions to a minimum and be perfectly cordial.”

Emma laughed. “I don’t know if cordial is ever a word I’d use to describe you, Dad. Let’s just try to leave out the death stares.”

***

That evening after dinner, it was Gabe and Hope’s turn to do dishes. Gabriel washed and Hope dried with some assistance from Dean. As they were finishing up, Keisha and Julianne showed up on their doorstep asking if Emma was free to go for a walk around camp.

Y/N nodded when Emma looked to her for permission. “That’s fine. Be home before dark. Oh, here.” She said to the twins, grabbing a bag and passing it to them. “Take these home to your mom, it's the dress patterns she loaned me.”

Keisha went to take it, but Y/N pulled it back. “On second thought, nevermind. I’ll bring it to her tomorrow afternoon. Gives me a reason to visit and gossip.”

The girls all laughed and then waved as they headed out the door. Dean had to smile as they walked away, their high pitched voices and giggles floating back to them on a breeze. Some things hadn’t changed and he was grateful. 

Gabe went to his room to read, since he was housebound for the next while. Hope played with some well loved and worn out dolls for a little bit before they took her to her room and put her to bed. They tucked Gabe in not long after, and then took their coffee cups out onto their little front porch and sat in one of the big Adirondack chairs that Dean and Sam had built three years ago.

Y/N settled happily into Dean’s lap, her hands cupped around her warm mug. The late spring air was soft and warm, and the sounds of the camp drifted up the hill towards them. They listened contentedly for a little while as Clifford came out of the house and flopped down on Dean’s feet. 

They talked about the kids and they talked about the Deerling camp; they talked about Sam, and Y/N admonished Dean for teasing him about Eileen. 

“Be nice.” She scolded. “I hope he will bring her to dinner. If he likes her, I mean.”

They talked about anything and everything, and as the sun began to set, Emma came up the path and smiled as she saw her parents cuddled together in one chair. As much as she rolled her eyes and hid her face when they started getting kissy, she loved how much they loved each other. And she knew she’d never settle for anything less than what they had together. 

She told them goodnight and went inside, Clifford rising slowly to follow her and sleep at the end of her bed as he did every night.

Soon the fireflies were buzzing loudly and the camp was getting quiet, so Dean stood up with Y/N still in his arms, leaving their coffee cups to sit on the porch until morning. She laughed as her husband carried her effortlessly into their bedroom.

He set her on her feet and locked the door before he buried his hands in her hair and pulled her to him, crushing her lips beneath his own. Y/N moaned softly and immediately pulled off his flannel shirt and yanked his t-shirt over his head so she could spread her hands across the wide expanse of his still beautifully muscled torso. 

“God I missed you.” She breathed, even though it had only been one night. “I hate when you go away.”

He smiled against her skin as he stripped her down to her bra and panties. “Missed you too, sweetheart. Promise not to go anywhere ever again.”

Y/N laughed at his impossible promise as he lifted her so she could wrap her legs around his waist. He continued kissing her as he crossed the room and lowered her to the bed. She wouldn’t let go of him and pulled him down on top of her. 

Dean chuckled at her hold on him and then mouthed his way down her body, licking and nipping at her skin. Ten years later she still had the ability to make him instantly hard and aching for her.

They spent most of the night making up for the one they’d been apart. In the darkest part of the night they found light and life in each other’s arms and fell asleep knowing tomorrow would dawn bright and busy - filled with responsibilities, joy, love and most of all…

…hope.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @alwaystiredandconfused @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @safiyas-world

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @hobby27 @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @deangirl96