#he knew everything that was probably going to be done to all of them and his guilt made him have a mental breakdown

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Every Day That You Want

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, pre-established relationship, marriage proposal

Summary/Warnings: You have big news for Dean. News you have to tell him, wether he likes it or not. You really hope he likes it, though.

Author's Note: Kind of a prequel to another fic of mine (Still You Want Me), but can be read alone. I just love putting big scary men in normal situations.

Word Count: 2.9k

You can do this. You’ve been to hell and back, you’ve killed angels, you’ve survived at least three apocalypses, and you’ve helped raise the Anti-Christ. This should, comparatively, be easy. 

It’s not. It’s the most daunting and terrifying thing you’ve ever done. It’s just words, but you’re going to choke on them because they could ruin your life. You’ve rehearsed in front of the mirror until your voice didn’t sound like yours anymore and nothing you said seemed real. It had been like repeating the same one word over and over again, until it’s nothing but an odd sound. Until it meant nothing.

But this has to mean something. You have to be able to say this to Dean, and you have to try and not get lost in the possibilities of how he’ll respond. He won’t leave you—Dean would never leave you—but he might tell you he doesn’t want this, and then you’ll have to make a choice. You don’t want to make a choice. You don’t want to hear Dean tell you that, with the lives you lead, this wouldn’t be a good idea. That it doesn’t matter what either of you want, because this isn’t something you get to have.

You want to have this, though. You want to have Dean and the baby. You want to have him as you’ve always had him before—strong and tired, always fighting because it’s all he knows how to do, but resting his head on your chest in the dark and humming against your lips when he kisses you—but you also want to have him in this new way. Where he’d smile for more reasons than just you and Sam and Cas. Where he’d get to direct some of that undying loyalty to someone who’d never be ungrateful, who’d would see him as a hero in a way he might finally believe. 

He’d be so good at it. Dean would spoil the kid, and teach them everything he knew, and care for them more than he’d ever care for himself. It breaks your heart sometimes, how he doesn’t kill himself for Sam, and he doesn’t drink himself to death for Cas, and he tries to get better for you, but he still doesn’t really know how to look in the mirror and not see a shadow.

And this would be the piece of him that’s never been tainted. The piece of him that crawls over you in bed just to hold you, that still watches cartoons and gets excited when he sees a cool car or hears an awesome drumline. The part of him that still cares, against all odds, and cares so much you’ve been worried it would kill him. The part of him that’s so simply made of light and love, crushed under years of his soul being bruised and beaten.

A part of him that won’t break. A part of him you love just as much as the rest of his wreckage, but that you still try to tend to, because you’ll love him the same if it vanishes, but you don’t think he deserves that. Dean deserves to only have that piece of him expand, to have it absorb all the love you throw at him, to grow until he can see it too. Until he can believe it’s there.

You know that it’s all so fucking hard. That Dean will never be all light, but you wouldn’t ever expect him to be. You know that a baby won’t fix him, not by far, but you also know it will show him he can create something. That he doesn’t poison everything he touches. 

That he made something entirely good, with you.

And if he tells you he doesn’t want this, you’ll live with that. You’ve lived with worse.

But you don’t even want to try to live with it. You’ll probably have to, but you’d like to pretend you won’t. 

The most you’re daring to pray for is that he doesn’t freak out. But angels don’t really take your calls anymore. 

So you’ll just have to hope.

You’ve set this up perfectly. There’s a pie in the oven that you will not let burn. There’s bacon and pancakes on a plate waiting for him when he finally gets his ass up. You have the whole bunker to yourself, because Sam’s off to see Eileen.

You’re not allowed to tell Dean that—Sam says he gets annoying—but you will in order to get him in a better mood. Sam’s fatal mistake was believing that you wouldn’t do anything to make Dean happy. So this is really on Sam. He’s the one that introduced you to Dean in the first place. Just because you were his friend first doesn’t mean he didn’t lose your automatic allegiance the moment he said this is my brother and his brother was the hottest man you’d ever seen. 

Sam should’ve known better. His big head should’ve understood that letting you anywhere near Dean—let enough so close that you’d be allowed to fall in love with him—would have always resulted in you using his secrets against him to make Dean happy, so you could slip in the fact that you were pregnant with Dean’s baby as easily as possible. 

Like any sane person would.

Although you have been up for hours, after only sleeping two. And you might be losing your mind. But anyone would lose their mind in a situation like this. Waiting for their dumb boyfriend to wake up so they can change his life forever. 

But Dean’s still asleep. You’re starting to get worried. He usually sleeps in late, especially after hunts, but not this late. Not past noon, long enough for you to stress eat half of his pie, then make a whole second one. Not long enough for the coffee to go cold three times.

You’re about to go check on him when he appears in the kitchen door. Bleary eyes and mussed hair, his glazed eyes focusing slightly when they land on you.

He starts to shuffle towards you, and you forget everything you’d rehearsed. He looks sleepy and adorable, and you’ve seen him like this before but you’d like to see it a million times more. You’d like Dean to always drop his head on your shoulder and wrap his arms around your torso, to always slump over you with a low hum. To always kiss the crook of your neck and let out a long breath when your hands snake around his neck and your fingers tangle in his soft hair.

You could have him like this forever. 

You just have to tell him. 

“Dean-“

“Why’re you up.” He speaks against your skin, his voice slurring slightly, tugging you a little closer. “’S early.”

“It’s 3pm, baby.” You draw back to smile at him, and he just blinks at you. “You’ve been knocked out for fourteen hours.”

He shakes his head, pouting slightly as he takes your hand in his. “Nah. Doesn’t feel it. C’mon.”

Dean starts to walk away, taking you with him, and you’re snapped out of the daze.

“Wait,” You pull on his grip, and he turns with a frown. “Where are you going?”

“We’re goin’ back to bed.”

You give him an amused look, your affection briefly overpowering your panic. “We?”

He nods, tugging your hand in his until you’re pressed right against his chest. “Only up ‘cause you weren’t there. Need to get my girl back to bed, you need sleep too-“

You do need sleep, but until you tell Dean, you might as well be injecting caffeine right into your bloodstream.

“But I made you bacon-“

“Course you did.” He grins, pressing a light kiss to your nose. “You’re awesome, baby.” 

You feel your stomach flutter, and at this stage it has to only be nerves, but that doesn’t make anything easier. “Can we please eat?”

Dean hums, scanning carefully over your face. “You eat already?”

“I had some applesauce-“

“Then we’re good.” He starts to move again, and now you’re attached to him like a magnet. You couldn’t move away if you tried. “Bed.”

You’re frayed and wired and on edge, trying so hard to find the will to insist he stay and eat, but Dean’s so warm and suddenly you’re drunk on him. He’s sturdy and soft in all the right places, herding you back to bed with hands on your shoulders and mumbled praise about being his dream girl, making him bacon for breakfast and lovin’ him more than he deserves, and you wish you had enough backbone to just shout at him that he does deserve your love. He deserves whatever you can give him, including a baby that he needs to know about now before you explode.

But he gets you back into bed, splaying his body over yours and pinning you down.

“Didn’t see Sammy,” his head is buried in your chest, his voice muffled against your skin. “Where’dhe go?”

“Eileen’s.” You sigh, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, though.”

Dean chuckles, his hands drawing slow circles on your hips. “You’re a little backstabber, sweetheart. I’m never tellin’ you anything again.”

“I’m backstabbing Sam for you.” You shrug, smiling at the air. “I’d never backstab you.”

“’S exactly what a backstabber would say.”

You giggle. “You’re tired, Dean. Your brain’s not working right. Maybe if we get up-“

“Not getting up.” He grunts, squeezing your body. “Not until you get your own fourteen hours.”

“I’m okay, Dean-“

“No. Sleep.”

You sigh, squirming slightly under him. “You know, it’s bad for you to sleep in. It’ll mess up your circadian rhythm-“ 

Dean tilts his head up, frowning at you. “What’s going on with you?”

“I, um-“ You swallow, your whole body suddenly far too warm. “Huh?”

“You always make me sleep extra after hunts.” His voice is a little stronger, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why’re you suddenly trying to get me up?”

“Nothing’s going on-“

“No.” Dean’s sitting up now, rolling onto his back and pulling you over his lap, his gaze stern. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong either-“

He says your name, squeezing your waist as he rubs his jaw. “Please just tell me. If it’s a body we can hide it, but I need to know if it’s a monster body or person body-“

“Why the hell would it be a person body-“

“I dunno, but if it is you gotta tell me, so I can grab the salt.” He cups your cheek, offering you on his charming, downright boyish grins. “I’m not letting any ghosts haunt your hot ass, babygirl.”

“Thank you.” You mumble, dropping your brow to his. “But it’s not a body.”

“So there is something.”

“Yeah.” You whisper. “But I… I’m not-“

“Hey,” Dean leans back, holding your gaze as he tucks some hair behind your ear. “Whatever it is, I don’t care. I’m helping you.”

You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, like it’s simple. Like this will really be that easy. “For you? Always.”

It takes deep breathes, and hands curled in Dean’s t-shirt—gripping him hard, making sure he won’t fly away or vanish into the air when you speak—but you do it. You run over your entire rehearsal one last time and let it all go, because Dean’s right here, in front of you, and you just need to-

“I’m pregnant.”

You say it, and he doesn’t vanish into nothing. Dean just stares at you, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them, and whispers, “With a baby?”

“Yeah, Dean.” You offer him a small smile. “A baby.”

“My- my baby?” 

You open your mouth with a slight frown, and Dean’s hand flies to cover your mouth before you can speak.

“Wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just-“ He groans, his eyes seeming to drive right into your soul as his voice because hoarse. “You’re sure? That you’re… growing one?”

You wish you could read him better right now. You’d laugh at him saying growing one.

Instead you just nod, and it’s like something flips in Dean. He grins—wide and toothy and unrestrained—and you barely have time for the relief to hit when he’s kissing you. Long and deep and passionate, until you’re dizzy and grinding down onto him, falling over his chest and clinging to his shoulders.

“Dean,” you gasp as he dives down to kiss a line over your collarbone. “Shouldn’t we, shit-“ He starts suck on a soft spot behind your ear, and all your exhaustion is starting to catch back up with you, so everything is really just a haze. “Don’t we need to talk-“

“No,” he mutters, rutting slightly up into you and chuckling against your skin when you whine. “Just need you, baby, need to- son of a bitch!”

Dean’s yanks himself up and twists to his bedside table—his hand on your hips holding you steadily against him—scrambling around the drawers as he mutters low words you can’t hear.

“Are you okay?” You ask, your hand fisting in his shirt once more. “I mean, I know you might have doubts about-“

You’re cut off as Dean surges back up to kiss you again, this one shorter and soft, but still firm. 

“No doubts, sweetheart.” He mutters against your lips. “And I’m better than okay. I’m fucking amazing.”

“Good.” You sigh, pulling back to scan over his face. “What was that, then?”

Dean smiles at you, and it’s… nervous. He’s almost never really, truly nervous, but this smile has no edge, no carefully designed charm. It’s just Dean, purely him, smiling at you like you’re holding his heart in your body.

You kind of are.

“I know I, uh, I don’t say it enough. You know I’m not good at saying it. But I do love you,” Dean says your name, and you blink at him. This sounds like a speech. “I love you so much it drives me insane. And I’d never want this, want a baby, with anyone but you. But, I, uh, I want all of this. Whole stupid, apple pie thing, just with you.” He takes a long breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “Marry me.”

You gape at him. “What?”

“Marry- shit, wait-“ Dean reaches slightly behind him, grabbing a small box, and pops it open with his thumb. There’s a diamond ring inside, and it looks like a real one. Not the ones you’d use on cases, that would give you a rash for a week after. This looks… carefully made.

Made for you.

“Dean-“

“Marry me?” Dean looks between your slack jaw and the box, his voice almost nervous. “Please?”

“I-“ This is going better than you could’ve ever even imagined. You’re not sure how to handle it. “I don’t want you to marry me just because you knocked me up-“

“Baby, I didn’t pull this ring out of my ass.” He drawls, his voice a little firmer. “I’ve been getting ready to ask you for months. I was going to kick Sammy out next week, make a picnic in the library-“

“Really?”

“Yeah, I-“ He frowns. “Why’d you think I was poking about your ring size?”

“I don’t, um, I don’t remember you doing that.”

Dean laughs, shaking his head slightly. “That’s good. I was worried I ruined it. I, um-“ he glances down at the ring, his face falling back to the nerves, and you realize you haven’t actually answered him yet. “I haven’t-“

It’s your turn to kiss Dean, and these words aren’t difficult to say at all. “Yes,” you whisper, pressing another, smaller kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll marry you.”

“Awesome.” He grins, and the ring is barely on your finger when he’s diving back into you, kissing you until you can’t ever remember anything has been difficult in your life. 

You yawn right as Dean pulls away, and he chuckles. 

“You alright, sweetheart?”

You hum, nodding. “I’m good. So good. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Dean says your name in your ear, and it’s quiet and gentle. Not like a secret, but a promise. “How’s a day in bed sound? We can try and get you pregnant again.”

“That’s not how it works, babe.” You giggle, folding a little deeper into his hold. “I’m gonna have to buy you some books.”

“I’ll read them.” Dean kisses the top of your head, and you can feel his smile on your skin. “For you.”

“Thank you.”

“Course.” He sighs, squeezing your body slightly. “We’re having a fucking baby.”

“Yeah.” You smile, and there’s that piece of him, shining on the surface. All joy and wonder for something that’s really just good. “We are.”

End Note: Dean Winchester in my head this is indeed the life you live every day. Season 15 isn't real it can't hurt me.

Title from Waste by Foster the People

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[no-144444]

soft launching (hard) -d.riccardo

summary: you and daniel decide it's time the world know about you

pairing: daniel riccardo x fem! illman! mechanic! reader

(for context, kym illman is an f1 photographer from australia)

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Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You were livid. You wanted to scream, to sob, to shout, everything. It wasn’t fair. You were exhausted, hours and hours of practice, hours and hours of expertise, and yet, Daniel had just crashed the car into the wall. You were usually quite good at turning off the ‘mechanic’ side of you to turn into the ‘girlfriend’ but it was hard today. You’d worked overnight. You’d worked until you were practically falling asleep at the side of the car. 

And he crashed it. Again. 

You knew it wasn’t his fault.

It wasn’t his fault. 

You kept repeating that in your head. The looks on the faces of the other mechanics were… unwelcoming to say the least. You didn’t want Daniel to see them, or you. You walked on, ready to hide in the bathroom until Daniel got into his room. 

Then he saw you. Daniel had a certain way he liked to calm down after races. Shower, relax in bed for an hour with you, then back to the hotel for some food. 

You couldn’t do it. You knew you’d blow up on him. You knew you’d freak out. 

“Baby-” he started, running up to you and wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry.”

Your heart stopped. ‘Mechanic’ you, was gone. Replaced whole-heartedly by the need to comfort him and make sure he was alright. Yes, you still felt bad for the other mechanics and yourself, thinking about how you’d have to put it all back together in Milton Keynes. But Daniel needed you. 

“It’s alright,” you whispered, holding him close. “You’re alright baby.”

He nodded, his eyes wet with tears. He knew if he’d talk he’d break. 

“Does it hurt anywhere?” you asked, pulling him into his driver’s room. He shook his head. “Did you get checked out?”

He nodded. You sat him down on the bed. 

“It’s alright darling,” you whispered. “It’s Lance’s fucking fault anyway-”

“I don’t want to lose you if I lose this,” he responded bluntly, his hazel eyes filled with tears. “I know I can be better, I just… it feels like a classic case of old dog, new tricks, and I just can’t get the hang of it. If I could just get one shot at the RedBull seat, I know I could do it. I just… it feels like shit battling it out at the back for one point. I used to stand at the top of podiums, and now I’m… this,” he sighed, discouraged. 

“You won’t lose me,” you assured him, running your hands through his hair and he leaned his head against your stomach. He loved sitting like this, his head on your stomach as you stood in front of him. “I’m not going to let you go, don’t ever worry about that.” 

“I do,” he admitted. 

“Then talk to me about it,” you told him, pulling his chin up so he had to look at you. “I am here for you no matter what. Always and forever, Dan.”

“You swear?” he asked. 

"I swear."

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ You were there when he got the call. He sobbed for hours. You were both there, just laying in your bed, holding him as he cried. For the first week, it was rough. He barely got up. You helped him. You made him food, made him get up and walk, made him shower. He was grateful to have you there, because he didn’t know what he would’ve done without you. He probably would’ve sulked for months. But you, you brought him out, brought him home, brought him to see Josh and Hailee. You even bought him a hat (his new favourite) that says ‘retired!’. You made him happy again. Yes, there were still down days, and yes, he still looked at his trophies longingly. But he had other things in mind too. He wondered a lot about how you’d look in a wedding dress, or how you’d both look with a baby in your arms. He was finally thinking about the future for once, and he felt like slowing down, for the first time in his life, was just as exciting as going fast.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

Being in F1 when Danny wasn't was hard. He was your boyfriend, and it meant you didn't get to see him all the time anymore. You still adored your job, so you weren't going to quit, just... step back a bit. The season came to an end, you were 7th in the constructors, and off you went skiing with half the grid.

The funny thing about the fact that you were a mechanic, was the fact that your father was one of the main photographers in F1. You'd picked up that skill from him, and you usually jsut took photos of your friends, but to cut costs RedBull had asked you to be their on-track photographer as well, and you'd gained quite the reputation.

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ynillman

liked by pierregasly, jackdoohan, landonorris and 4,987,736 others

ynillman: 2024 is over and done with! I cannot wait to have a regular sleep schedule for three months!

comments

kymillman legendary photos this year! see you at christmas, and enjoy skiing! liked by yourusername

landonorris PLZZ LET US BORROW YOU NEXT YEAR -> ynillman maybe... but even I can't make papaya look good 🤷

lancestroll time to hit the slopes! -> ynillman bro i broke my fucking arm last time wtf -> lancestroll let's hope you break both of them this time! maybe then you won't capture another video of me falling!

oscrapiastri thank u for your service, lily is very happy with our couples photos! -> ynillman anything for lily! so happy for the two of you! -> user89 did we miss something...? ->user829: oscar did say he'd rather get married than get a tattoo...

user88: when's the next yt video queen??? -> ynillman tomorrow!

nicohulkenberg amazing work this year!

olliebearman thanks for the great photos this year!

jackdoohan thank you for making me not chop all my hair off again! (oh, and the photos were cool as well ig) liked by ynillman

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ynillman

liked by pierregasy, charlesleclerc, danielriccardo, and 8,098,364 others

ynillman didn't break an arm this year, only my ego!

comments

user8 lance serving boyfriend in this so hard

user99 hear me out, lance and y/n... -> user7 yes officer, it's this one -> user882 me when i'm clinically insane -> lancestroll prolly not.... -> ynillman please guys I have some standards

oscarpiastri i swear i was so surprised you didn't kill yourself

landonorris you're genuinely a danger to society on a snowboard -> ynillman because of my skills? -> landonorris because you can't fucking use one. I have the bruises to prove it

user83 lando, lance, oscar, and y/n????? what the fuck is this multiverse of madness

user0 still serving with the photos OMG QUEEN

estebanocon remind me to never go skiing with you again -> user82 estie bestie!!!!!!

mickschumacher who tf let her out of her cage? -> jackdoohan you did. you gave her the vodka.

user9: jack, mick, esteban, lance, lando, oscar, and yn? who else??? -> charlesleclerc i was there too -> alexalbon same -> carlosainz same -> francocolapinto me too! -> danielriccardo same... -> user9: and all of their wags were there too! what a cool friend group!

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lilymunihe

liked by alexalbon, ynillman, alexandrastmleux and 890,876 others

lilymunihe guess who took these photos? @.ynillman

comments

landonorris that's actually a normal sized bear in Alex's hands -> alexalbon so you're calling me tall? thanks??? -> landonorris fuck no, i meant a regular sized teddy bear

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ynillman

liked by robertirwin, pierregasly, francocolapinto and 9,987,625 others

ynillman new video out with robbie! (my sleep schedule is still fucked someone save me) (i love australia(ns))

comments

danielriccardo what a group of legends -> ynillman aka you're jealous i didn't invite you? -> user8239 y/ndaniel CRUMBS !!!!!

read more...

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danielriccardo

liked by ynillman, francocolapinto, fernandoalonso and 987,253 others

danielriccardo she's looking beautiful these days. missed home :)

comments

user8240 yall know who else is in australia this week... -> user247 i am picking up what you're putting down... delusion!

read more...

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danielriccardo

caption: you think she likes the bay?

dms

landornorris SOFT LAUNCH?

oscarpiastri taking the soft launch approach?

alexalbon BOO HARD LAUNCH YOU'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOREVER

lewishamilton mate if you don't hard launch her i'll do it wtf is this bullshit

yukistunoda bro... try harder.

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Daniel had decided something, which was almost always a dangerous idea. It was the off-season, you were in Australia to see the sights, see family, and catch some waves. He'd made his mind up about something days ago, and you'd been trying to figure out what, but he wouldn't budge. He was secretive and giddy, and slightly more childish than usual, so naturally, you started to panic.

That all changed when he brought you down to the beach. There were candles set up everywhere, he was smiling, and you were crying already.

"Y/n, you have made me the happiest man in the past four years," he smiled, despite the way his voice cracked with emotion. "You've been with me through everything. You've held me on the nights I've been my weakest, and championed me on the days I've been my best. I never asked you to love me, but you do it like it's breathing. You make the ups and downs feel like goosebumps on my arm, instead of mountainous waves. You make me smile. You make me laugh. You make me feel so fucking stupid when you start explaining something to do with engineering, and I realise I couldn't do that. The way you dedicate yourself to things is incredible. The way you treat others with kindness and respect even when they don't deserve it, is commendable. I love you with every bone, every nerve, and every cell in my body. I love everything about you, inside and out. I can't wait to get to sit in a front porch someday when we're old and wrinkly, and still get to tell people that you're my wife. So, Y/n, will you marry me?"

You nodded through tears,. pulling him up off one knee and kissing him harshly, only pulling back to look at the ring.

"I love you too," you smiled through tears. "I love you so much."

"I love you so much more," he smiled, elated that you'd said yes. "You saved me."

And that was that. You were were engaged.

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danielriccardo

liked by landonorris, ynillman, liamlawson, and 893,273 others

danielriccardo she was there for me through thick and thin, and she still likes me years later. you swore you wouldn't get rid of me, so i'm here to stay! love you more than anything, my love, my life, my (future) wife!

comments

landonorris HARD LAUNCH

robertirwin So happy for you guys!

oscarpiastri must come and visit you two oldies

maxverstappen man had been stolen... kidding! (not) Very happy for you two! (not).

read more...

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navigation for my blog :)

redbull and vcarb masterlist

[f1daydreamer]

“His Favorite Person”

Warnings : none just pure Fluff

___________________________________________

You were Oscar Piastri’s childhood sweetheart. It sounded simple on paper, but in reality, it was anything but. He’d known you since you both were seven, growing up on the same street in Melbourne. He was the boy with messy hair and a shy smile, and you were the girl who had no problem standing up for him when someone teased him for his quiet nature.

It wasn’t long before the two of you were inseparable. Wherever Oscar went, you weren’t far behind. He even credited you with convincing him to pursue karting when he’d doubted himself at thirteen.

Now, years later, he was one of McLaren’s golden boys, and you were still the center of his universe.

---

“So, Oscar, who’s your inspiration?”

The interviewer’s question was generic, the kind of thing every driver was asked at least a dozen times. Most people expected him to say someone like Ayrton Senna or Lewis Hamilton. But Oscar? He barely hesitated.

“Y/N, definitely,” he said, his face breaking into a soft smile at just the thought of you. “She’s been with me since the start. I wouldn’t be here without her.”

The interviewer blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “That’s sweet. Care to elaborate?”

“Well,” he began, his voice lighter than usual, “she’s the one who pushed me to go after this. She believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself. And, uh, she keeps me sane when things get crazy.” He laughed, scratching the back of his neck.

“Also, she’s probably the most patient person in the world. I don’t know how she puts up with me sometimes.”

---

The fans ate it up, of course. Anytime Oscar mentioned you—which was often—the internet would light up with posts like:

---

It wasn’t just in interviews, though. Oscar’s Instagram was basically a shrine to you. Every post, no matter how racing-focused, had at least a couple of pictures of you tucked in somewhere. Sometimes it was a candid shot of you laughing in the paddock, other times it was a picture of the two of you on holiday.

His captions? Equally lovesick.

Even McLaren’s media team couldn’t resist teasing him about it.

“Alright, Oscar, let’s get this promo video done. Try not to talk about Y/N for five minutes,” one of them joked during filming.

He grinned but didn’t deny it. When the video came out, fans weren’t even surprised to see a clip of you sneaking into the paddock to surprise him mid-season. Oscar’s face had lit up like a kid on Christmas morning, and McLaren had (very cheekily) titled the segment, “Oscar’s Favorite Person Arrives.”

---

You’d teased him about it countless times.

“Do you realize how obsessed you sound?” you asked one night, scrolling through the comments on his latest post.

“Obsessed?” he repeated, pretending to think it over. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

“Oscar!”

“What?” He grinned, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his lap. “You’re the best part of my life. Why wouldn’t I talk about you all the time?”

Your face burned, but you couldn’t help smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me for it.”

---

If anyone had asked, Oscar would’ve said it was easy to love you.

After all, you were his constant—his best friend, his partner, his everything. Whether he was racing halfway across the world or just lounging at home, you were the one thing that grounded him.

And if the entire world knew it? Well, that was just a bonus.

[the-witty-pen-name]

Nothing But Trouble (1)

Billy Hargrove x Shy!F!Reader

Word Count: 2.2K

Synopsis: Billy has done everything in his power to completely destroy his life- like his goal is to crash and burn before he even gets a chance to start. Assigned as his peer tutor at Hawkins Community College, begrudgingly you are slowly helping pull himself up out of the hole he dug for himself. Somewhere along the way, he falls for you and in a turn of events you’d never predict for yourself, you fall for him too. 

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI (nothing in this chapter, but will be in later chapters); mentions of abusive parents (Billy's Dad); struggles with mental health; seeking help for mental health; flirting; some fluff

A/N: This is my first time writing for Billy so please let me know how I did- and what you'd like to see next!

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! And requests are currently open :)

No one expected Billy to have stayed in Hawkins following graduation. Furthermore, no one expected to see him enroll at the local community college. His plan had always been to get the fuck away from Neil and flee to the furthest place he could conceivably go. It had been his plan to escape for as long as he could remember. The Hargrove household was never a place he could ever call home.

No one knew the reason he stuck around. People theorized he stayed because of lack of money, or because he was a big fish in a small pond in Hawkins, etc. He stayed for Max- a plan to get his shit together and save her too. He didn’t believe it himself. No one would believe him if he ever admitted it anyways. 

Stupid fucking pipe dream that he’d never amount to- moving back to California and bringing Max and Susan with him. He’d swear he’d get his act together and step up for them. He’d change and be a big brother- step up and be the man of the family. However, Billy wasn’t that guy- he didn’t know how to be that guy. He was stuck in a spiral of hatred and self-destruction. He knew who he needed to be, but it wasn’t who he became.

Most of the time, Billy, if he did show up to class, showed up hungover or sleep deprived or just couldn’t get his shit together. He’d snap at his professors and peers. Mandated by the Dean by threat of being expelled, he began sessions with the school therapist- which turned into a referral to one mental health counselor after another until Billy felt he’d been turned from the inside out and dissected until he had nothing left to disclose. 

It was unlike him, very uncharacteristically so, to go along with all of it. He doesn’t know what possessed him to spill it all- break down in the stuffy little office on east campus. He felt like he was pushed off of a precipice and he kicked and screamed the whole way down. It all came out- every emotion he bottled up- all of his anger. All of his deep rooted, ignored until it was bigger him, true fucking sadness just ruptured and he couldn’t stop it. 

He’s broken- so fucking broken. But he’s willing to change. He needs to change. He’d decided that he won’t become Neil. He won’t be anything like that bastard. He needed to turn his life around or this fucking bullshit would consume him like he’s let it go this long. 

So this is how in the beginning of his second year- two semesters away from his associates, he’s stuck spending his Tuesday and Thursday afternoons with a tutor. Amidst the revelation for self improvement, he’s realized he should probably start to get his shit together. Almost too late in the game, as he coasted with mostly C’s and a few well deserved D’s and now he’s desperate to get his grades up.

Valedictorian of Hawkins High, no one expected you to stay in Hawkins following graduation. You were destined for greatness- the one to break the working class cycle. You were the one with the one way ticket to university and you were supposed to be leaving nothing behind but tire tracks. Yet, you’re here. No one understood why. Enrolled in your hometown community college and rumored to stay in Hawkins for the rest of your life. 

Both of you wanted to be anywhere but here. Which is why for the past 3 sessions of tutoring, Billy never said one word and you didn’t either. Your initial questions were met with shrugs and silence, but you were fine with that. You could wait it out- the school paid you either way. It made no difference to you whether or not he passed or failed. You just didn’t understand why he kept bothering to show up. 

Billy never bothered you the same way he got his long list of enemies at Hawkins High. Surprisingly, he left you alone. You’d have thought you’d have been an easy target- nerdy, shy and awkward. Billy and your paths didn’t cross often. You’d see him at parties occasionally, but it was nothing more than a glance from across the crowd. You couldn’t even really call each other acquaintances. 

You’d sign his paper he needed to give back to his academic advisor, proving he came to tutoring. Then, you’d both leave. Both of you would show up the next week on time, sit in silence and the cycle would continue. Until it didn’t. 

You didn’t show up on time, and Billy sat in the library waiting for you. He would check the clock, watch the door, and then check the clock again. Where the fuck were you? You walk in, late and looking flustered. You look like you’d just run here, but he doesn’t ask. You take your usual seat across from him and flip your binder open. He notices the grease on the front of your sweater. 

“Car trouble?” He asks, and your eyes snap up to look at him. 

“He speaks,” you say with shock. You settle back against the chair. “Um, yeah, my car has been giving me a lot of trouble,” you admit. 

“How’d you get here?” He asks, and he’s not sure why he even cares. 

“I took my bike- well, I stole my brother’s bike which was at one point mine so…”

Billy smiled. You don’t miss it. A little crack of light seeping in from his gruff exterior. He won’t let you see it for too long, but you enjoy it while he does. You’re amusing him, but you don’t feel like the butt of the joke. Maybe, just maybe, he’s warming up to you. Silence falls between the two of you again, the only sounds that fill the void are the turning of the pages in your binder. 

He knows he’s wasting his own time, and he’s also wasting yours. He can’t find it in himself to legitimately ask for your help. He doesn’t do that- Hargroves don’t do that. You figure your shit out on your own because no one else is going to care about you, he picked that up from his dad quickly. So, he settles for silence. He’ll flip through the pages of his textbook that he’s still pissed he had to buy, and steal glances at you as you study for yourself. 

He remembers you from Hawkins High, and he’s sure you remember him. He wants to know why you’re even still here- last he heard, you were supposed to be going off to one of the Ivy leagues like Harvard or some shit like that. How did you get from there to here? He shouldn’t care, but it’s the most interesting thing he’s had to think about that didn’t revolve around him. 

He’d thought about asking you out before, back in high school. He never did. You intimidated him. He didn’t know how to navigate you like he did other people. He also knew with that good head on your shoulders, you’d reject him. And he didn’t want to admit that rejection was something he couldn’t handle. Things aren’t that much different now, except this gift of time together which he’s choosing to squander away. 

“Do you want a ride?” he asks as you hand him back his sheet with your signature. The question surprises you, it was something you wouldn’t expect from him. “I could take a look at your car if you wanted- that is something I actually know,” he smirks. Where did this come from? You wonder. 

“Uh, yeah- that’d be great,” you say, and he can tell the question caught you off guard. “Will the bike fit?”

“Should,” He shrugs. “Don’t worry about it.”

You follow him back out of the library to the parking lot. After you unlock the bike from the bike rack, he walks it over to his car for you. He’s able to maneuver it into the truck with just a little effort. Then, he walks over and opens the passenger door for you. 

Okay then. 

The ride is pretty much quiet except when you need to give him directions. The radio is playing and he taps his fingers on the steering wheel along with the song playing. You don’t live too far from the school, not that Billy cared. You’re watching the houses pass by out the passenger window and you don’t see Billy sneaking glances at you occasionally when he thinks he can get away with it. He’d imagined this scenario a few times with you, you in his car with him- maybe he’s driving you home after a date or something,  but he’d never admit that. That would show weakness, and he’s not weak. 

“You can pull in the driveway next to my car,” you instruct- pointing to your house. He backs in, so it’s easier to get the bike. He doesn’t get your door this time, but he instead goes to get the bike out of his car for you. He rolls it to the side of the house, and rests it against the side carefully. You walk over to your car, and get into the driver’s seat so you can pop the hood. 

“Get me rag?” Billy asks, looking over the engine, pulling the dipstick out from its holder. “Have you checked your oil recently?”

“Uh nope,” you admit, a little embarrassed. You disappear into the house for a moment and return with some rags. You can’t help but feel a little nervous- a little ashamed. You didn’t like not knowing things. This was an area where you really didn’t have any confidence and you were anxious that Billy would see that. You were worried he might judge you.

“C’mere, I can show you,” he says, “It’s really simple.” You step closer to him, flush against his side so you can see where he’s working. “Make sure your car has been off for a while so the oil settles in the tank- this is the dipstick- it will show you the level of oil. You wipe it off clean.” He takes the rag and wraps it around the stick and then pulls it through the rag to wipe it completely. 

He shows you the end of the stick. “Those two little dots? When you put the stick back in, you want the oil to be somewhere between them. If it doesn’t reach there- you know it’s low.” He puts the dipstick back in position and lets it sit for a few seconds and then pulls it back out. Oil coated the end of the stick and it didn’t come up to the first dot. You frowned. 

“Your car probably has a sensor that stops you from starting the car when the oil is low,” he explains. “Which is a good thing, so I think your car is fine.” 

“That’s it?” You ask, dumbfounded. “Is it that easy?” He chuckles. 

“Yeah, I mean- pretty much. Just need to put more oil in,” he shrugs, pleased with himself that you seem to be impressed by him.

“Thank you,” you say sincerely, “I’m sorry you came out of your way for something so simple-”

“Don’t even worry about it,” he grins. “Least I can do.” 

He shows you how to add more oil- even though he knows you’d be able to piece it together yourself. You’re thankful for his instruction anyways- you tend to get nervous about things you’ve never done. Granted, he’s right that it was easy- but still, you didn’t want to mess up your car. You just felt better with him here. When you’re both done, he reaches up to close the hood and you do your best not to stare. He starts your car and the engine roars to life. 

You literally jump up and down with excitement. When Billy steps out of the car you don’t even think about it when you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. His arms wrap around your waist and he smiles, not sure what he did to deserve this much praise- not that he would ever complain being close to you like this. Once you realize what you did, you panic and break away. You stare at the ground, nervously. 

“Sorry,” you mumble, suddenly shy. You shove your hands into your back pockets just to give them something to do. Billy smiles, enjoying all of it far too much. He bites his lip watching your body language. He liked that he made you a little nervous. It gave him a little boost of confidence. 

“Don’t be, sweetheart,” he flirted. 

You open your mouth to respond and your words fail you. This is just so new, this feeling that is beginning to bubble up. This is a side of Billy you don’t think anyone knew existed. It’s making you look at him in a new light, and you don’t know why you are beginning to feel this way. His eyes trail up and down, like he’s sizing you up. It makes your breath hitch. How did you end up like this? You tug anxiously at the sleeves of your sweater. 

“So, um,” he licks his lips. “I’ll see you Tuesday?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “See ya. Thanks again.”

TAGLIST:@sunshinepeachx@downbear@fanlifeaamt@exploding-bonbon@losingmygrasponreality@skiddypiddy@andvys@djodirt@moonlightsolo@kyga01@sheisjoeschateau@melaninjhs@v3lv3tf0x@purpleeyeswithgoldensparkles@sunshine-mrk@danymunsonharrington@mrsjellymunson@fanficfantik@the-unforgivenn@punkrockmlchael

[burningembers91]

The Taste of You - Park Min-Su x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

The Secretary Lunch Date Awards Night Overtime

Synopsis: Desperate for more, Park Min-Su takes you to dinner. But you're the only thing he wants for dessert.

A/N: There's probably typos galore because I wrote this at lightning speed

Park Min-Su hadn’t slept all night. You’d been going round and round his mind like a broken record, the feel of your lips on his, the way they stained his skin with your lipstick drove him insane. He didn’t want to wipe away the cherry red stain at the base of his cock, the only evidence that his time with you in his office hadn’t been a complete dream. You made him feel things he’d never felt before, had acted out a fantasy he’d had so many times. And all he’d had to do was ask. You’d been so clear with him; you couldn’t help him if he didn’t tell you what he needed. What he needed was you. Last night had only been the tip of the iceberg, and he was so eager to learn more. He wanted you to show him everything you knew, to teach him how to make you feel as good he had.

He was nervous about going into the office that morning, of seeing you again. He had so many things he wanted to say to you, but the closer he got to his office door, the more his nerves chewed through him. By the time his hand was on the doorknob, he’d convinced himself he’d dreamt the whole thing.

But then he saw you, sitting at your desk, with the same cherry red lipstick on. You smiled sweetly as he entered, handing him his agenda for the day. Min-Su could feel himself stiffen again, could see your eyes trail down his body as you too noticed his arousal. “You have the presentation today at 3pm,” you said, choosing not to comment on his very visible erection. You’d made the first move, but now Min-Su needed to take charge. “Your dad would also like to meet with you at 9am, so I’ve scheduled in 30 minutes with him to go over the work we’ve done. The marketing department want a quick debrief at 1:30 to great ready for the presentation, and finance were chasing your weekly expense report. I tracked down all your receipts, and I’ve sent them off for you.”

You were so confident, so sure of yourself and Min-Su hadn’t listened to a word you’d said. He’d been too busy staring at your lips, wanting nothing more than to have you trail them down his body again. “Min-Su?” you asked, “did you hear what I said?” “No,” he admitted, “I was distracted.” You sighed, but couldn’t help but smile. “Anything you need?” Your words from last night echoed in his brain; he needed to tell you what he wanted. “I want to kiss you,” he breathed, his briefcase clenched in his hands as he stared at your perfect lips. “Then kiss me,” you whispered. His lips met yours softly, his tongue running along your lower lip, just as you’d shown him the night before. His hand came to rest at the nape of your neck, the kiss deepening as his briefcase clattered to the floor. You held each other in the silence of his office, clinging to one another as you lost yourselves in the sensation.

“Your dad will be here soon,” you smiled, finally pulling away, despite every fibre of your being screaming at you to keep going. Min-Su’s lips were stained with the colour you wore, and you carefully wiped the lipstick away, erasing any evidence that he had been kissing his secretary. He wanted to tell you to leave the marks, to let him show them off like a badge of honour. But the feeling of your thumb brushing over his lips felt almost as good as kissing you, and he moaned into your touch.

He couldn’t concentrate all day, especially when you were sat less then 10 feet away from him. He somehow managed to get through the presentation without any hiccups, his eyes trained on you as you diligently took notes throughout. He wanted to ask you out tonight, to take you for dinner at his favourite restaurant. You’d told him to be more assertive, so when you were back in his office, he approached you. “Will you come for dinner with me tonight?” He asked, his voice shaking slightly as he asked you. he didn’t want to be nervous, but you made him weak at the knees. “I’d like that. What time would you like me?” You tried to ignore the flutter in your chest as he asked you, the butterflies that jostled in your stomach. “Is 7 ok?” Min-Su could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he waited for your response. He wondered if he’d always be this nervous around you, or whether it would get better with time. “7 is perfect,” you smiled, “I’ll text you my address.”

Min-Su was nothing, if not punctual. He arrived at 7pm on the dot to find you dressed in a burgundy off-the-shoulder mini dress. He’d bought you a dozen roses and a box of chocolates, clutching them to his chest as he waited for you to open the door. “They’re beautiful,” you smiled, setting the flowers up in a vase. No one had ever bought you flowers before, and the gesture was sweet. You didn’t stop talking throughout dinner, and Min-Su was slowly but surely coming out of his shell. He didn’t want the evening to end, but then again, he could spend an eternity with you, and it would never be enough.

“Can I come back to yours?” he asked, as the two of you left the restaurant. “What for?” you asked innocently, but your sly smile showed him you were joking. “I want to…” Min-Su was struggling again, struggling to voice just how badly he wanted you. “I want make you feel good.” His arms gingerly snaked around your waist, pulling you in for a brief kiss. “I want you to feel how I felt last night.”

Your hand cupped his cheek, your gaze meeting his. He was so sweet, so eager and those butterflies in your stomach started up again. “Ok, Min-Su,” you smiled, “take me home.” He opened the car door you, shutting it gently when you were seated. No one had ever done that for you either. You hadn’t realised just how kind he was to you. He always opened doors for you, pulled your chair out for you when you out for meals, or even just a coffee. He was such a gentleman, more so than anyone else you’d ever met.

As soon as you arrived home, his lips were on yours. You pulled his jacket off his shoulders, throwing it unceremoniously onto the floor as his hands explored your hips and waist. “What do you want?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper as his lips traced the outline of your jaw. His nerves were decreasing by the second, overridden by his desire to please you. “I want to know what you taste like,” he told you, his fingers fumbling for the zip on the back of your dress. He couldn’t believe how bold he was being, but that was the kind of effect you had on him; you made him feel on top of the world.

You led him to your sofa, shedding your clothes for him as you went, until only your underwear remained. Your body was perfection, your curves igniting the fire in his belly as he took in every inch of you. You were so beautiful, the curve of your breasts so soft. His fingers caressed your body, starting at your shoulders and working his way down. You moaned for him, his touch on your skin setting every atom of your body alight. “Where do you want me?” you asked, desperate for him to take control, to tell you what he wanted.

Wordlessly, he guided you to your sofa, sitting you gently down on the cushions as he knelt before you. He looked up at you, his eyes wide as you took you in. You really were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. You brought his hands to the soft lace of your underwear, arching your hips as he pulled them down over your thighs. You were so wet, so perfect and Min-Su couldn’t help but moan at the sight of you. he didn’t know what to do, didn’t know where to start with you. “Touch me,” you whispered, propping your feet up on the seat to give him full access. Gingerly, his fingers reached out, caressing your slick folds as you let out the softest moan. You felt incredible, and he couldn’t believe you were this wet for him. He groaned as his fingers found your soft, tight core, pushing them inside you. “Fuck,” you whispered, watching the expression on his face as he explored you. He could feel his own arousal pushing against his jeans, and he palmed at his crotch as he lowered his tongue to your clit.

You tasted heavenly, your walls clenching around his fingers as he ran his tongue over your sensitive nub. He was so gentle with you, so careful as he figured out what you liked. Your moans were the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, his cock painfully stiff as he pressed the softest kiss to your clit. He was driving you crazy, his touch so timid and yet so perfect. His fingers were hitting a spot deep inside you, bringing you closer to the edge. “Feels so good,” you whimpered, “keep going, Min-Su.” Hearing you say his name, hearing you tell him how good he was making you feel was his undoing. He felt himself let go, spilling himself inside of his jeans. His tongue worked against you in rhythm with his fingers, feeling your soft, tight walls contract as you neared the brink. “So close,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pushed his face against your soaking core. You came undone with a cry, a noise that send the most blissful shivers down his spine.

You sank down on to the floor next to him, your legs quivering as your lips met. His tongue tasted like you, and you were desperate for more. it was funny how last night he was completely at your mercy, yet tonight you were completely at his. You wanted to replay the favour, to show him how it felt to be inside you. Your hand dipped into his jeans, gripping his cock. “Oh!” Your fingers brushed against the fabric of his underwear, soaked with the arousal he’d hadn’t been unable to contain. “I couldn’t help it,” he whined, “you tasted so good.” “It’s ok,” you smiled, feeling him harden against your touch. You wanted him, all of him. You didn’t want to play games anymore.

As you went to unzip his jeans, Min-Su’s phone buzzed. You both audibly groaned, so wrapped up in the moment. He was going to ignore it, but then his phoned buzzed again. And again. Sighing, he pulled it from his pocket. “It’s my dad,” he sighed. “He wants to see me back at the office.” “Oh, ok.” You’d tried to mask your disappointment, to hide the fact that you didn’t want him to leave. “I wish I could stay,” he breathed, his lips brushing against yours. If it had been anyone else, he’d have ignored it. But his father was not a man you could ignore. “I understand,” you smiled. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”

He left you on the floor of your living room, your heart still racing as you came down from your high. You were so confident on the outside, a force of nature who always seemed so self-assured. But on the inside, you were insecure, so desperate to be loved. No one had ever cared for you the way Min-Su had. No one had ever been so sweet, or kind to you. Nobody had ever treated your body like it was a temple, but Min-Su had sunk to his knees for you, worshipped you. This whole thing had started because you’d been desperate to feel something, and you knew Min-Su liked you. But now, as you listened to his car pull away from the street, you wondered if it was something more.

You wondered if perhaps you were doing what no one ever seemed capable of doing for you. Maybe you were falling a little harder for your timid boss that you cared to admit.

[unrealworld-of-mugenri]

"I'm not even sure how we would've handled that Youkai guard we stumbled into alone. Maybe just make a run for it. And that's if I could really get past all those traps. Who knew I'd go from just a stool to your partner?"

That box she grabbed to just get into the window was but one small step in the larger journey between them. Not quite even the most important one-agreeing to work with him probably was bigger. But it was what brought them together in the end. That's giving him a nostalgic smile even before they've flown out from the castle with all the mice safely ferried across. In all honesty he's never really done something like this before. Infiltration sure, but not...for a heist or stealing.

It felt like a fun breath of fresh air. His eyes closed in enjoyment as he turned to Nazrin. "We sure showed them. In spite of everything we made out like phantom thieves! Pulled it right under everyone else's noses too. I think the only one that'd really know what'd happen would be that fairy-and they're not going to say a word! But most of all I'd like to say one thing."

He'd open his eyes as he tries to shift his excited smile to something more resembling a smirk. It's kinda hard to do so but he manages it as he raises his treasure filled hands. Carefully pointing two index fingers right back at her.

"You're pretty good." It felt right to say that with all his confidence. They'd manage to make it out while everyone was too busy with the incident. Knowing what he knew about incidents the other resolvers were likely fighting each other just as much as storming the castle with all this on the line so it felt even better.

Kurohebi's hand goes up to wipe off his forehead. It's been a long run but they're at the home stretch. The only thing between them and a hard won heist is one wall. To those that fly it's no obstacle. But they're not the only ones that need to make a getaway. He turns back to look at the mass of treasure carrying mice.

"We sure did get past all those obstacles. Didn't even know those guys were roaming around. But still, didn't keep us from getting what we got between all of us."

Can't exactly just say the two of them when the mice already did quite a bit to help in the mission. He considers other options of getting them out but shakes his head, it's not likely getting the box back here would save much time over what Nazrin's already planning. And it could risk something. So he'll just shake his head.

"I got no desire to go all the way back there. We'd gain a bit of treasure over what, a fire, a fairy, and a fight that might already be wrapped up? It's just a bunch of risk that isn't worth taking. Especially given how you're feeling right now." He can tell and look a bit concerned over her condition. Doesn't seem like too much of an exaggeration at least. So even though he's still got a good chunk of treasure lying on him he lowers his back for a larger chunk of the mice to get on. Despite everything he'll handle the bigger loads for the trio of trips.

[hyog-blog]

Emotionally this scene is so hot and intense. Zhuo Yichen demanding answers from Zhao Yuanzhou, for it, for him to make sense, especially in the context of his own (already awakened) feelings. And it must be driving our boy literally insane - the contradiction of Zhao Yuanzhou being his family's killer, the one demon who single-handedly destroyed the Demon Hunting Bureau (which was kind of everything ZYC ever knew at that point, that it was it, his life was just that, and his future as well).

And Zhu Yan destroyed not only his family, nearly cutting down the whole lineage apart from Zhuo YIchen, but also the organization, that was put to a halt and nearly ceased to exist, and he literally took whatever meaning Zhuo Yichen's life had and threw it in the gutters. So ZYC was not simply alone, with his whole family dead, but also meaningless and without a place to go, or to be, or something to do in this world, his ancestral home becoming a limbo of sorts, with him - a lost soul that had no means to move on, to start living again.

Because he was an anomaly from the start and whatever he would become - would always be in the context of demons, and BIng Yi, and murders, and investigations, and all that weird stuff that most people considered as nightmares personified. He was already a part of all that even when he didn't really know it himself, just following his brother around, just being, just going through that archive of books and writings about monsters that were actually his kin in a way (and when he learns that Bing Yi was, actually, a demon, in my headcanon that would have shattered his self-identity quite a bit, at least for some time).

And now we meet this boy, already a young man, who has single-handedly restored the Demon Hunting Bureau, finding it in himself to build his own meaning of life from scratch, getting back that place in life he thought was his and that it mattered, and that his service to all those people was what he's supposed to do (and probably, the only thing he could do being an anomaly, an outcast, someone stuck between the worlds of humans and demons). He has more in common with Wen Xiao than we might think upon meeting him first. She's a bridge between the demon and human worlds, but he's also a bridge, or rather a shield protecting the human world from the demons and, as he later learns, maybe simply protecting the innocent, be it demon or human, from the ones that want to hurt them, no matter what realms they come from.

And so he meets Zhao Yuanzhou having just figured things out for himself, and suddenly learns that the world, again, isn't so black-and-white and even that gruesome hideous murder had so many layers to it and wasn't at all what he perceived it to be. And the man who had been his dreamless nightmare all these years turned out to be a whimsical creature that only appeared to be dangerous when he first saw him, yet possessed no killer intent whatsoever. And in fact, turned out to be a protector as well, trying to protect everyone from himself first and foremost.

And he watches this gorgeous mysterious man, as complex as he is, getting close to Wen Xiao, whom Zhuo Yichen adores more than any other woman in this world (emphasis on woman) and he already has feelings for Zhao Yuanzhou as well, however suppressed and unfathomable they are for now, and he wants this man to give him answers, but whatever Zhao Yuanzhou can give him - it's not that. It's not the certainty of being bad enough to just kill him and be done with it, and it's definitely not a certainty that he deserves to be killed at all. And even not the certainty of him seeking death at this point, even though he continues to talk about it, but it's not so strong now, not to the extent that it was before, when Zhuo Yichen first met the Great Demon.

And this is where he finds himself that night, when Zhao Yuanzhou finally approaches him for that don't-hesitate-to-murder-me pep talk, and Wen Xiao is brought up, and his newly found will to live (or something close to it) through that affection only, but Zhuo Yichen doesn't know it yet, that it's not just that affection that keeps this demon from deteriorating into the depths of despair facing that goddamn horrifying blood moon all over again, that destroyed so many lives, including the life of this gorgeous young and so very sensitive Zhuo Yichen. That there's another type of affection and feeling and need that draws him to Zhuo Yichen that night in an attempt to protect him from this, as best as he can, giving him that immunity from the one-word spell, and asking him to live well no matter what happens next, knowing already that it might turn into a bloodbath at some point.

But this time ZYZ is as proactive as he can be, and he trusts Zhuo Yichen enough to kill him or at least to stay alive and protect Wen Xiao. It will be bad, he knows that much, but at this moment and in this instance he comes to spend this time of his own uncertainty with Zhuo Yichen not only because the boy needs this to stay strong and to realize what he's actually facing, but also because Zhao Yuanzhou needs him to stay strong himself with whatever ZYZ is facing again, with that glaring possibility of losing control and wreaking havoc everywhere, with this one young man, truly, being the only one who could stop him at this point. Kill him. Save him from this torment. And it's heavy, and Zhao Yuanzhou knows it is, so he goes for that talk and talks carefully around the very notion of ending his life, but also - about that and that only, sensing Zhuo Yichen's confusion as if it was truly his own, and that turmoil of emotions, and that need to understand, to make everything make sense somehow.

And so they talk. And do some magic. And none of them gets much relief after that conversation is over, but there's a certainty now. That at least this one boy would be protected from the Great Demon's magic. And if he has a chance of surviving the blood moon, than so does Wen Xiao (who probably is protected by their contract anyway, but Zhuo Yichen isn't, and it matters to Zhao Yuanznou already oh-so-much).

And Zhuo Yichen is left even more strained and confused than before because of all the contradictions he's facing, this demon acting not like an enemy, even though he's about to become one, but rather like a caring friend. And what is he supposed to make out of all that? When he simply doesn't, just doesn't want to kill him, no matter what.

[shivunin]

Hey! 7 or 16 for the Rook story time prompts!

Hey! Thank you so much!!

For 16. Rook falling in love for the first time:

(prompts)

(Rook Ingellvar/Lucanis (and past Ingellvar/OC) | 1,248 Words | CW: Mention of corpses, suggestive intro)

The heat always took her by surprise—the heat of a living person’s skin against her own, hands lifting to touch her, lips against her cheek. 

Ingellvar had grown too used to the cold rigidity of corpses, the waxy sheen their skin took on when they’d been dead too long. But this—for someone who had gone most of her life without being touched by anybody, this was a revelation. 

Edeline was already unbuttoning Lenore’s shirt, nimble fingers dancing over her starched shirt and below, tracing the edge of her underthings with the tip of her fingernail. Lenore couldn’t pull her mouth away long enough to speak, but if she’d been able to she might’ve told the other woman to slow down. They had all night, after all. They slept only a few feet and a thin wall apart from each other and nobody was going to interrupt.

There was no need to rush; they could’ve made it to one of their beds instead of doing this on the settee. Edeline never seemed to care about these facts.

“You were late again,” she said, mouth dragging over Lenore’s lips and lower, where her throat met her jaw. “I was waiting for hours.”

“I—have my practical Tuesday,” Lenore said, and parted her legs readily when Edeline pressed her knee between them. “Had to finish—I needed to—mph.”

Heat—skin touching her skin. Ah, she never felt as alive as she did when this was happening. It was foolish, she knew; the late nights, her increasing lack of focus on her coursework, and—and everything else. She was putting her future at risk by doing this, but it felt so good. She was drunk on it, tilting her head away so Edeline could press her teeth into the soft skin of her throat. 

Touch me, she wanted to say, touch me, touch me—but she was already being touched, hands sliding over her ribs to her hips, sliding off her shirt until it trapped her shoulders in place. 

“I was all alone,” Edeline went on, drawing back to tie her long hair back, “waiting for you.”

She was beautiful. Disastrous, but beautiful. Lenore stared up at her for a moment, eyes wide, and wondered: Is this love? It was difficult to know. She’d never loved anything but the Necropolis, had never been loved by anybody but Grief, so much as the embodiment of mourning could love somebody it hadn’t lost. 

“I want you,” Edeline went on, bending once more to her. 

Was it love? She didn’t know. The heat against her skin, the breath catching in her lungs—that had to be love, didn’t it?

Yes, she decided as she lifted her head to kiss her roommate again. This is probably love. 

|

“Rook? Do you need to go?” 

Lucanis’s soft voice roused Lenore, who sat on the cot in his room. His hand brushed her elbow, finding bare skin at her forearm below. If he had touched her arm with lightning, it would not have electrified her more. 

“No,” she told him, dragging her eyes open. “No. I’m awake.”

“It isn’t the best place to sleep,” he told her, the corner of his mouth lifting. “Not that I have tried to do so very often myself. You would be tired in the morning.”

Lenore smiled and stretched her neck one way and then the other. Dozing in this position had been a dreadful idea. Her neck already hurt from a few minutes of it; surely a whole night of it would make tomorrow a nightmare. Still…it was tempting, just to have an excuse to stay. 

“I will still be here in the morning,” he told her, his voice still soft. 

His eyes lingered on her face, her mouth. She wondered what it would be like to kiss him. They hadn’t done that, though he’d made his interest clear. Their near-kiss in this room was the closest they’d gotten. She found she didn’t mind as much as she might’ve expected. Something about being near him made it difficult to question. 

“Promise?” she asked. 

“You have my word,” he told her, the corner of his mouth twitching again. Leaning back against the wall while they’d been talking had mussed the back of his hair slightly. It was…endearing, she decided. She’d never seen his hair messy like this before. 

“You will sleep better in your own bed,” he added after a moment. They were so close. She could kiss him right now. She could lean forward right now and—

“It’s generous to call it a bed,” she told him and stood, stretching her back, “but I take your point.” 

“I will walk you to the door,” he said. 

“Bodyguard duty now, too?” she asked, opening the door to the pantry. Nobody was in the dining room beyond. Fortunate. “Overachiever.”

“Yes—I won’t charge you extra for it.”

Lenore laughed. She might’ve thought of something to say in response to that, but his hand found hers as they passed the table and any thought fled immediately from her mind. 

His hands were so warm. That made sense, of course. She’d felt his hands before. He’d helped her up when she’d fallen in combat and passed her dishes at the table, among other things.

But he hadn’t ever held her hand before. He held it loosely now, as if ready to let go at any moment. It was difficult to hold very still and walk at the same time, but she tried it anyway. Anything to hold onto this moment a little longer. Could he tell that she’d slowed down? It was such a short distance to the door. She didn’t think she could drag it out terribly long, but…

“Thank you,” she told him. “For spending time with me tonight, I mean.” 

“I could say the same to you.”

Drat. Here was the door already. 

“Here,” he said, swinging the door open.

Beyond, the Fade looked more or less like it always did. There was no night here. That had certainly taken some getting used to. 

“See you in the morning?” she said. His thumb ran over her knuckles, touching each in turn. 

“Mm,” he said, and lifted her hand to his lips. 

Lucanis kissed her, lips brushing against the scar over her third knuckle. It was hardly any contact at all, but he may as well have driven a blade through it for all the shock she felt. 

Oh, she thought. Oh, dear. 

“Goodnight, Rook,” he said, and she took three steps through the open doorway before she could think of anything to say in return. 

“Goodnight, Lucanis,” she told him. He ducked his head and closed the door behind her. She was left blinking at the too-bright world beyond. 

Before her, skeleton lovers embraced, the statue towering over the courtyard. The Caretaker had replaced a wolf statue with it one day when she’d been sleeping. It was almost precisely the same as the one she’d tended for years in the Necropolis. It seemed like a sign somehow that it was standing before her now. 

No matter how long Lenore stared at the statue, it offered no guidance. 

“Oh, dear,” she said, because it was all she could think. 

Exhaling shakily, she raked her shorn locks back from her face and stumbled down a set of floating stairs toward her room. A fierce fullness in her chest, a song under her skin, a heat in her cheeks—that’s what love felt like. 

If nothing else, she supposed it was good to finally know.

[theonlymanny]

Paul lahote x male reader

Pt1

Summary: after Paul tried to attack your sister bella who was stupid enough to slap him. You decide to save her. With Earth bending.

Also mmm…. Reader is blind. I think you can guess who reader is based off. If you don’t it’s alright. your like 15 because I think Paul is 16

—————————————

“What did you do to him!” Bella your older sister lost it. “He didn’t want this!” “What did he tell you?” “He tells me nothing because he’s scared from you!” Bella lost it when Paul laughed. She slapped him. Oh it was about to go down… “bella get away from him!” You said while running towards her. “Why-” before Bella could finish Paul shifted. “M/n Run!”

You positioned your feet on the ground while your hands started vibrating. In 2 seconds Paul was hit with a rock bolder which send him flying towards a nearby tree. “Don’t you ever try to hurt my sister again!” Before you could do anything else, Jared got a hold on you in the air. “Ugh! Let me go you-”

After everything calmed down you, your sister and the other Dogs went to the Uley’s house.

“so how did you do that?”

“Can you not ask.” “Oh, No, no,no I get it!”

“….” “Do you move them with your mind?”

“Gosh do you ever shut up!”

“Hey umm… what your brother did was crazy how long have you known?” “ I- he never. I don’t know okay. All I know is that he moves rocks. god knows how…..Can we stop talking about this?”

“Come on bella we don’t bite!” “Don’t forget M/n he’s kind of cute.” “I’ll rip your head off Jared!” “Yeah he is so cute”

“Hey what was that?” “What was what?” “Don’t act like you don’t know!” “Okey,Okey. Listen closely…”

“Mhm…” “ I… sold my soul so now I can move rocks with my mind.” “You’re impossible…” “what!? It was good right?” “let just go”

Before you could enter the house you heard Paul behind you. “What do you want?” “I just want to say sorry okay? I crashed out. I… see you’re really strong. And well…” “is there a reason you are being so nice? Because last time we met you tried to bite my head off!”

“so… do… you… know what imprint means?

“No and I don’t want to know. Let’s just head inside.”

You met Emily, Sam’s wife. Who was really nice. You could see they were all really happy. except Paul.

“Hey Paul! What’s wrong man!” Jared asked Paul “huh- what oh um… nothing.” You could feel he was lying. Sam knew what was going on. Paul imprinted. On you.

“So Bella, M/n I guess you’ve already met Emily, Jared, Embry and… Paul.” “But M/n I guess you already now who you launched that rock to.” “Yeah, anger issues right here!” “Don’t be disrespectful!” Bella softly punched you in the arm. “What!?” “Basically what sam is going up to is that Paul imprinted on M/n” “what does that mean?” “Well…”

After Jacob explained to you and Bella what imprint meant. Paul started walking towards you. “It’s okay if you hate me I understand-” “woah buddy hate is a strong word. I don’t hate you! I actually kind of like you. You are brave, strong and kind of you know… hot.” Bella rolled her eyes while every body else started laughing.

“But I think we still got to work on those anger issues you got there.”

“I’ll try my best just for you.”

—————————————

I am so fucking bored and can’t sleep so I taught why not make a m/n that is not DC/batfamily? Also I barely can’t think of anything so here it goes. Also in my opinion this is probably the worst m/n I’ve ever done because well I barely remember any twilight and it’s badly written.

Peace and love ❤️

[inklore]

hi can we just talk about how much finnick protected peeta? like not just in the games but after?!?!! he was the only one to not raise his gun at peeta, who stepped forward and tried to help him. he reassured him it was okay to ask questions when he needed to. he ran lines with him, told him he had this. even when he killed someone on their squad and was going after katniss finnick didn’t become violent with him. just retrained him and tried to calm him down, literally telling peeta i got you. and the line “peeta just tuck in there” I’M SCREAMING

[classicintp]

Goddammit I miss that cat.

[llycaons]

something else I really love about feast and famine is how wwx isn't all 'wow lan zhan you're the best I can't believe you've been putting up with me I'm SO grateful you're literally perfect even though I'm so needy thank you so so so much' bc that sentiment arises in a lot of fics that handle his trauma or mental health and it's SO tiresome not to mention ooc. like it's not there for no reason bc wwx did express gratitude in canon and lwj IS a really good and supportive partner, but it's really refreshing to see wwx in a stable and reliable enough relationship where, except that one time he was triggered and panicking, he literally never once doubted that lwj would support and stand with him, nor did he ever feel the need to even thank lwj for being a good partner, even through the extremely heavy and difficult work of supporting him through what happened

and they DO communicate a lot, it's more that the gratitude is left unsaid because it's mutually understood to be unnecessary. and as much I'm in favor of them communicating their gratitude to each other, I feel like this dynamic for them is so much healthier and more mature and illustrates how strong their relationship is and how much they trust each other. also the idea of lwj as this...saintlike martyr who nobly supports and reassures a self-hating wwx is really tiring. he has his own struggles to be sure, but he has them away from wwx and the writing doesn't frame him as some tragic, self-sacrificing hero for it. like I love lwj but that's what it should be about, right? this was always going to be wwx's story first and foremost and I really appreciate works that let it be that

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Adam gave a frustrated sigh, apparently Hell is real. His mother was wrong for a change but he had bigger concerns than rubbing it in her face.

Adam: Wonderful.....

He would be impressed if it didn't mean he was basically going to be a slave now. And the fact that it's Lucifer who is the one doing it.

Lucifer: Now, this is where you'll be sleeping when you're not working.

He pushed a button and a door opened, Adam peered in and it was a basic room kind of like in college. There was a bed, a dresser, desk and chair with a small lamp and a window...... That looked like it had bars on it.

Was that for everyone or just him? Probably just him.

Lucifer handed him a key and Adam reluctantly put it in his pocket.

Lucifer: Paul and Patrick will be training you.~

As if hearing him, the two soldiers appeared. His visor scanned them and told him their rank, age, even their health conditions. They both grabbed him and took him to a room at the end of the hall and Lucifer followed.

Adam: Hey! Get your fucking hands off me! Oof!!

They placed him in a chair and locked his wrists in place to the chair. He didn't like where this was going.

Lucifer: You need to learn everything before we can properly have you trained. And just so you can't look away.~

He pulled out a USB cable and plugged it into Adams visor and Paul hit play. All this stuff started playing on his screen and even when he blinked it wouldn't go away. It was their mission and war propaganda.

The visuals were very hypnotic.......

It took awhile, but Lucifer smirked when Adams tense muscles relaxed slowly and Adam wasn't saying anything. Since it was being streamed directly to his visor it was a lot stronger than if he just watched it.

Lucifer petted his hair like he was a dog, he knew it was working because Adam didn't pull away.

Lucifer: There, when he's done downloading everything we'll move into physical training alright?

Paul: Yes sir.

Evesworld AU in "The End"

After an outing with the three of them, they go back home and Adam sees someone picking the lock on his door.

Adam:

Who goes there?!

Lucifer, coming out of the shadows:

Hello... Old friends!

Eve, excited to see him:

Lucifer! It's so good to see you again!

Lucifer:

Yeah, I hope you don't mind me letting myself in.

Lilith:

Who are you again?

Eve:

This is Lucifer? Our old roommate? He used to live here?

Lilith:

Hmm... Doesn't ring a bell.

Lucifer:

You seriously don't remember?

Adam:

Well, we're missing the real question here. Why are you here? Didn't you move out, like permanently?

Lucifer: Well now I'm back!

Adam: Seriously Eve? Why didn't you tell me?

Eve: I did tell you!

It doesn't count if she had a mouthful of cereal munching on it without really speaking.

Lucifer: Where's the couch?

Eve: Adam sold it to a pirate.

Lucifer: Ha! Classic stupid Adam.

Adam glared and grinds his teeth together as Lucifer pulls out a tiny box and pushes a button making a new couch.

Adam: When are you leaving?

Lucifer: Leaving? I'm here to stay!

Dun dun dun!!

[beloveds-embrace]

Chubby reader x monster!141…. Chubby reader where you are at all-time-low after your ex cheated on you with the woman you had always been insecure of (she was everything you were not), so now you are just done. Done with him, with her, with your terrible work that forced you to come in even while sick, done with life.

So you go to a bar, and intend to fully drink yourself and all your sorrows away. You don’t even care enough to ask any friends to accompany you- they knew. They fucking knew. Calling them friends anymore is just stupid- and you don’t care enough to look around at anyone; you know you aren’t anyone’s preference either.

When a man, big and burly, curling horns and two big ass wings (maybe one of those dragon shifters? You know harpies have feathers, but the rest of your brain is too muddled) sits down next to you, you just ignore him and continue nursing your drink, trying your best to bite back the tears in your eyes.

“That’s enough now, love,” he croons, and much to your confusion, he takes the glass away from you. His voice is rough and rumbling, like thunder. Too hazy, too drunk, you don’t even care enough to get angry at him. No, your eyes fill with tears instead. “No, no, calm down. Let’s get you out of here, alright, little love?”

Another man joins your other side, just as big and burly but shorter than the dragon man who is making you tear up by holding your drink, your source of solace tonight, hostage in his hand. This one is a werewolf, his ears flicking in your direction much like his grin and his tail eagerly thumping to and fro against your chair.

“Sweet lass,” he croons, your teary eyes flicking towards him. You can see his hands clench in the air. Why, why, why- you just wanted to drink away. They are both so handsome, such a shame they clearly don’t like you and are just bothering you for the sake of bothering you, a fat woman in a miserable corner. “Enough tears and enough alcohol, aye, hen? Yer aff yer heid!”

His words are so strange, your tears momentarily pause. “What…?” You wonder outloud, shivering when you feel a warm breath across your neck, warming your skin. The dragon. His hand settles on your lower back, nudging you to get off the chair with them, and you feel like crying again. He probably can feel all the fat there, how horrible-

“Careful there, little love.” Dragon steadies you with two hands when you get dizzy, and with weak hands you try to swat at him, try to move away, but the werewolf is at your other side and keeping you pressed between them.

“S’op… stop callin’ me that,” you mumble. The tears roll down then. “Not- not funny, not at all-“

Two other hands on your back, a tail thumping against the back of your thighs, you are still led outside even as you babble about everything. Your size, your ex, the one your ex cheated, your work, your ex-

You want your damn drink back.

For their part, Price and Johnny didn’t think coming out for a drink tonight would lead to finding their last soulmate. The second they had entered the dinky bar, John had expected to need to puff out a deep, smoky breath to keep his nose clean from all the overwhelming smells and Johnny had prepared to to keep his nose happily pressed into John’s skin.

They hadn’t expected to smell you, something like the smell of stepping into a warm home after spending time out in winter, something like watching soft, golden sunlight stream into the nest room on a morning they spend sleeping in with Kyle and Simon. Like soulmate, like the last link of John’s hoarde and Johnny’s pack, and he has no doubt that you are Kyle’s nest and Simon’s. Simply his. A part of him just as you are a part of them.

Driven so wholly by instincts, seeing you drunk and crying pushing them even more into said instincts, they easily you herd along with them, back to their home. All explanations, everything else can wait until tomorrow. You are so soft to the touch, all tender and squishy, they already think you so perfect. In the back of the car, it doesn’t take seconds before you are dozing off and dead to the world, already so trusting.

By tomorrow morning, Simon would be easily able to track down where you live and get all your items. And also find that shitty ex of yours. John hasn’t yet decided if he wants to thank or beat him.

Watching the way Johnny holds you in his lap from the rearview mirror while he drives, hands squeezing your lovehandles with a low groan, mumbling about how much he already adores you, soft bonnie hen, all theirs- John decides he doesn’t give a single fuck about your ex at the moment. He needs to hold you between his arms and wings, in the comfort of his nest.

Fuck, he might end up breaking more than just a few speed limits.

Part two

[dawnwriterimagines]

Innocents among you

Part Two to TRAITORS AMONG US

SIMON RILEY X FEM!READER TASK FORCE 141 X FEM!READER

Summary: Your torture is over, but is it really? There is only the torment in your mind now. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the flowers at your hospital bed and the tormentors awaiting the relief of your forgiveness.

Part 3!!

Part 4

If you liked this would you Buy me a Coffee?

---

You flatlined twice, almost as soon as you were handed off to the medics.

Committing themselves to doing CPR before bringing in the defibrillator for an electric charge to your sudden cardiac arrest. "Clear!" They restarted your heart just outside the hallway of your cell, Simon held back by Price as your heart stopped again within the same minute and panic ensued. Johnny and Kyle hearing the news, rushing up towards the hall, their footsteps probably the echo that you held onto as your heart rate picked back up.

Clearly, you lived.

You didn't have the luxury of going comatose immediately after. As you would've preferred.

You'd awoken hours after the medical team carried you off to the infirmary. Still on edge, still plagued by discomfort and cold, despite the lights of the recovery facility and the nurses that paraded around you.

Morphine wears off in about 6 hours, so you were up wailing in agony within the same time. Clearly no one expected you up so soon, but you hadn't slept in days, at least not more than an hour. Jerking up involuntarily, hands all over you to keep you down and steady, you could hear a familiar doctor's attempt to calm you down. But, the blistering pain that radiated from every pore in your body was ringing so loud, a present noise that blocked everything out.

So, at first, you'd been terrified, attempting to clutch onto the first thing you'd woken up to. But, you couldn't move, at least not voluntarily.

With the damage to your spine for countless hours, days, and what you had discovered to be two fucking weeks of endless torture, you'd undergone three difference corrective surgeries that would 'possibly' fix the nerve and circulatory damage done to you. It had left you nearly completely immobile since your admission into the infirmary. The doctors were quite astonished that you were even alive...

The nurses were patient enough with your panicked state to slowly ease you out of your stupor. But, at times it wasn't easy, especially when you didn't even know where you were at first. Since you couldn't see...

You were blind for about four days. Everything a tinted red for a few more after you'd regained your sight.

Fevers plagued you for the week, skin that was raw and inflamed from the severe cold and constant dousing from the pipes, you couldn't move if you wanted to.

The first thing you'd been graced to see were the multiple arrangements of flowers, lilies, white tulips, hydrangeas, roses...typical assortments of regret and remorse.

"Can someone throw these away?" had been your first words.

The nurse who had been checking over your vitals looks over at the flowers, the were all over the desk, even on the floor lining the windows, once they ran out of space to put them. It was beautiful. But, she knew why. Everyone knew why. You were quite famous here in the infirmary, as you were in special unit. "Of course."

They were out within the day. The room bare once more.

And then you saw them outside your infirmary window. Just a glimpse. Around the time you were still getting your sight back.

Seeing them for the first time since everything made bile build up in your throat, a screaming fear that created a pulsing headache.

Kyle, Johnny, Price and...you didn't see Simon.

Price was...a statue. Not moving an inch. His hand against his mouth, covering up the aching distress anyone could see on his face.

Kyle was pacing, back and forth and back and forth. Making an offhanded comment at one of them every few seconds.

But, Johnny was talking, pointing spitefully at someone out of your view.

He was there too then. Simon.

Turning away from the window, you couldn't look at them anymore.

"Don't let them in," you breathe out to your doctor as she sets down a trayed mug on your sliding table as she sits you up to drink a hot cup of tea, which you had requested. "Any of them. Please." You were still so cold, you couldn't imagine dealing with any type of cold weather for a while after dealing with this.

She's confused a moment, before turning to the doorway, where she recalled seeing the four men waiting outside in the hallway. She's seen them just sitting there for days now, they wouldn't beg or argue to come in, they'd just wait. It's not like you were cleared for visitors yet anyway.

Every morning she clocked in for the job, there they were. Sitting there like abandoned children, awaiting the moment the door would open to be welcomed inside.

It was like they never left.

Of course she knew who they were to you. Word spreads fast on the base. Especially for a Task Force as 'famous' as they were around here.

Squeezing your shoulder, comfortingly. Feeling protective, your doctor spoke, "Of course," she slides the mug forward a bit, taking the teaspoon to stir once and lift it to toward your lips to sip. "Blow," she guided.

You did. And sipped.

And it was warmer than any blanket they'd wrapped you in.

---

Prior to being able to trudge around on your own, with the help of a crutch you'd been given to go to the bathroom by yourself finally, the nurses had sponged you down in bed. Your spinal surgeries led to you being at risk if they made efforts to remove you from your bed for anything more than a medical emergency.

Mostly, because you're terrified of the showerhead....and it's pathetic, but no one judges you for it as you opt for a sponge bath every time instead. Even if you're shaking as the water slides down your skin even now. The last thing you needed on top of all this was to develop aquaphobia.

Today was the first day you could do it on you own, limping your way to the bathroom with your crutch. The smell of bleach is much stronger in here, it stings your nose.

You stared at the metal stool left tucked at the side, walking around it as if it would pounce up and attack you, you try not to look at it. You'd been doing well without panic attacks for a few days now, just hold it together.

Taking a breath, you reach out to the handle for the spout, glancing up at the showerhead, before back down. Swallowing thickly when you begin to turn it before pausing, hearing the water rush up the pipe to spill out. Turning it back up just as quickly, shutting off the pipe, you inhale deeply, trembling now, hand up to the chilled tile to steady yourself.

You'll try again, you had to.

Drip...

Drip...

Unable to help yourself, the sudden rush of paranoia that runs through you is terrible, a hoarse cry leaves you. You shove yourself away from the shower stall, back ramming into the doorframe, catching yourself, and away from the showerhead as the water drips, slowly from the faucet.

Drip...

Drip...

As panic tightened its grip around your chest, your breaths quickly turned to short, sharp gasps. The room spinning, colors blurring into a dizzying whirlwind. You turn swiftly, nearly knocking yourself off your feet as the thudding of your own heart startles you, you can hear it in your ears, in your hands, in your feet.

You press a trembling hand to your chest, clawing over the area, trying to slow the frantic pace of your breathing, but it only seemed to escalate. The small room narrowing to a black hole of fear and suffocation, every gasp began to disorient you, turning lightheaded.

As tears welled in your eyes, you collapse against the side wall, sliding down to the tiled floor. Slamming your palm against your chest, once, twice, as hot tears leave streaks down your bruised face, you beg your lungs to expand and wait for your breathing to regulate.

Beginning to sob uncontrollably as you hit yourself in the chest again and again and again, waiting for the moment you found yourself able to breathe.

Why did this have to happen?

You remember the violent swing of the baton against your face, the sting it leaves afterwards, the immediate spotting of bruises forming. The memory startles you, receding back into yourself, back to that day.

"It wasn't me..." you cried loudly, in the empty room. It echoes against the tiles.

Simon wrapping his hands around your neck, staring you down as he squeezed, maliciously. You couldn't breathe as your lover shook with the strength he uses to hold himself back from taking your life.

"I'm sorry," you hiccupped. "I'm--I'm sorry," you're not sure when you crawled yourself into the corner, the lights of the bathroom flickering off dimly from your lack of movement. As you're drowned in darkness, the water dripping from the spout, the cold tile against your skin, it's too much. You scramble upwards, running out of the bathroom.

The automatic lights flicker back on inside, but you're too in your head to notice.

Stumbling down to your knees as you feel the rip of a ruined stitching tearing along your side. "Ah!" comes your startled cry. Making it to the side of your hospital bed, you fist your hand through your sheets, unable to stand yourself up.

Taking pained breaths against the sterile sheets, you bury your head in them, cursing whatever luck you thought you had in this life.

They were your family...

All you had for so many years...

As your breathing slows to distraught, agonized huffs of air, sniffling to yourself as you catch sight of your face in the metal frame of your hospital bed. The dark purple bruises beneath your eyes as the swelling gradually went down, the still bloodshot left eye of yours, the twelve stitches on the left side of your face. So gruesome you knew it would scar you for life, a permanent reminder on your fucking face.

Anger bubbled up inside you at the sight of it. At the memory that would always follow when you'd look at it.

Anger that you hadn't been able to properly feel until now.

Anger that you feared to have until today.

"Are you alright?" the sound of his voice makes you visible tense.

Simon.

He's here.

You don't turn to face him, if you did, you'd revert back to the person you were cowering into moments ago. "The door was open...I just--" he pauses, swallowing thickly. "Lemme help you up."

Hearing his footsteps suddenly moving closer, you speak fast. "STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!" you scream over your shoulder, tucking yourself further away from him. "Do NOT move."

He stops in his tracks. You catch the sight of him in the metal framing of the bed, he's a blur in the metal, but you notice his mask is gone, he's Simon Riley now, not Ghost as he appeared to you in the interrogation cell.

"Don't you dare get any closer," you spat.

"I heard you," he spoke, carefully. Mouth opening and closing, before speaking again. "But, you don't have to be stubborn. If you stay there any longer you could tear your stitches."

"Whose fault is that?"

Simon shifts his stance on his feet, waits a second. "I know. And I can never begin to tell you how sorry I am for what I did. What we all did to you," he says, quietly. "The intel we discovered...or that was forged, it came from a source we've used a dozen times, (Y/n), we thought it was true. It had to be. We've never been misled before."

"So..." your nails bite into your skin, you make an amused sound, biting down on your lip for a moment, till it hurt. " That's what you came here to say, huh? What you waited days to--. Is this you justifying--"

"No, (y/n), that's not--"

"--why you tortured me, strangled me, stripped me, in that fucking cell, Simon?"

"We had to believe it, at the time..."

"Was I not a trusted source?" you argued. "Had I not proven more than a thousand times that you could trust me? I've fought next to you, laid in your bed, given you my love, my trust, I--" you shook with rage at the time and energy wasted on time family, this relationship, if the end goal was always meant to just be this.. "I thought that was at least half the reason you decided to marry me..." at the mention of your relationship, you could see the way Simon nearly lost his balance, hands coming up to run along his face. "You told me you would kill me in that room..."

"I was just talking, I wouldn't have--" his voice cracks as he whispers, trying to convince.

"When you left, I thought you'd come back to kill me any minute, or Price, to spare you. I waited to die for two days, terrified out of my mind. I wondered about heaven, not if I'd make it... but what it'd be like, what I'd be missing out on," you thought back to your time in that cell, a haunted expression Simon couldn't see. "While you all got a good nights rest, woke up for some bacon and eggs, and listened to the warden tell you that your prisoner was framed...for a crime you'd already punished her for..." you stuttered on your breathing, tears flowing silently.

Simon inhales deeply. "I could never expect you to forgive me. I-I had taken my hurt out on you, I thought you did it, I was so sure. I couldn't hear what you were saying, I just could see the evidence, and I--I'm sorry. I'm sorry, love. I'm truly--" he gets to his knees behind you.

"Get up."

"I can never tell you how sorry I am---"

"Simon."

"I never should've done this to you. If I could ever--" his voice rising with distressed breaths, you didn't have to look at him to see his face a mess of sorrow, tears that would mix into the stubble on his face.

"Simon!"

"--make it up to you. If you could ever find it in your to forgive me, (y/n). I'll spend the rest of my life--" he gets closer, reaching out.

Whipping around, stiffening completely as you feel the graze of his fingers across your skin, "DON'T TOUCH ME!" you shove your back against your bedding, your hand swinging and flying across his face. His head snapping to the side as he pauses, freezing up where he kneels, having completely forgotten your request to stay put. "What's the matter with you! Even now? Even now, you can't just listen to this one thing?!"

"I-I'm sorry..." He looks at you, finally seeing your face clearly and up close since it all happened. Finally he can see the bruises along your face, the blood that fills your eye, the dark bruise still around your neck.

Seeing him. He looks rough. Honestly, he looks terrible. His hair shaggy and falling over his eye. Dark circles with bags under them. Pale, and thinner than he should be.

His jaw clenches with guilt and he averts his eyes, you continue. "How could I forgive you for this?" you stare at him, "I could forgive you, if you hadn't let them chain me up like an animal. If you hadn't watched them drown me for hours, beat me black and blue and left me screaming for days. I could forgive you if you had just believed me even for a moment." you feign thoughtfulness. "How about you look at my face. My wrists. My legs! MY FUCKING SPINE, SIMON!"

"Nothing I can say or do, will ever make any of it ok, I know that. And I can't ask for you to ever forgive--"

"What could I possible owe you in this life, that makes you think I'd even think about forgiving any of you for the things you did to me?" you gritted out, angrily.

Simon's head drops, a slow, shuttering sigh leaves him. "I'll never stop trying to make this right. Never."

"...Get out, Simon."

"I'm sorry."

"Simon."

"I'm so sorry..." he reaches out again.

"Ghost."

He's silent this time, fingers tensing, out in mid air.

"I never wanna see you again."

"I love you, (Y/n)," he confessed, eyes feral and wide. Pulling at the ends of your slip.

"I don't want to hear that, Ghost," kicking away from him. "Stop it."

"I couldn't stop even as it happened--"

"Shut up. And get out," shaking as you sneered at his desperate attempts. "It's over, Ghost."

"And I took it on you. It hurt so much, I couldn't think," Simon's face twisted with agony and remorse. "I'm sorry!"

He was making you lose your goddamn mind, you broke. "GET THE FUCK OUT!" screaming at one another as overwhelming tears escaped your eyes.

---

It's quiet in your hospital room, it's empty now, the door closed this time.

The door knob turns and opens again a moment later. "Oh no, Ms. (L/n)!" luckily it was your assigned nurse, who takes your arm and fixes it around her shoulder before helping haul yourself up to your feet. "What're you doing on the floor? There's a call button for a reason," she scolds as you sit on the edge of your bed.

You're quiet.

Alarmingly so for your nurse, who notices the pulled stitching that creates a line of blood down your side. "If this is about what happened to you..." the nurse started, speaking carefully, pulling a lining of gauze from the side to press to your skin. You don't even wince at the pressure, even when she begins to clean and replace the broken stitch. "Don't let it break you. Not even further than this experience already has..." she says, while through the last stitch and prepping a bandage.

"I've been broken long before this," you whispered, looking towards the afternoon sun shining through your window. "This. This didn't break me, no," you admitted, before glancing up with glossy eyes, rage hidden beneath a profound look of sadness. "It destroyed me."

Her hand pauses at your side, your words startling, turning to see the tear that slips down your cheek. Knowing now how deep your scars were from this, before gently sliding the last of the bandage across your skin. "Do not think you are irreparable. That time can't heal your wounds."

"But, there's always reminders," touching the stitches on your cheek, "some things can't be forgiven."

"I never said to forgive..." the nurse interjected. "If you could, after all this, you're stronger than any woman that could be named."

You snicker at that, humming soundly. "That's an interesting thought. I guess I'm one of the weaker ones then."

"And yet, still the strongest I've ever met," she finishes. Pats your cheek, "click the button next time. Save us both the heart attack."

"Noted," you assured.

As she's prepping to leave for her rounds, you open your mouth, once, twice, before clearing it. "Is it possible, someone could help me out--the water..."

"Of course," the nurse says, quickly. "Don't worry, I understand. I'll get everything set for you."

As she walks away, you breathing out your appreciation, you take a long inhale, swallowing down the heaviness in your chest.

part 3 OUT NOW!!

Tag List:

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[stansthemans]

You know what, I’ve been thinking about this and I’m not done here yet. Let’s make this worse

More on Caryn’s commentary towards Stan. Not just that she’s kind of chubby, not just that she’s too loud and opinionated and what man is going to want to put up with all that. i think a lot the commentary would also involve Stan being involved in unladylike activities, mostly the boxing. Bc my fem Stan absolutely still does boxing. She has to. It’s the perfect excuse for the split lips and black eyes. Of course those are there, no need for anyone to ask questions or look twice. I think this would be the thing that her mother says that hurts Stan the most. Bc caryn knows why Stan has to keep it up. And it also sucks for her because it’s one of the only things that stan really does feel like she’s good at. In the ring, she can focus, she knows she’s talented and she works hard to hone her skills. She’s good at it, but it’s a thing that everyone judges her for being good at because this isn’t what a good girl would do.

And when they get caught, again, it’s so bad. Because its illegal its sick its wrong and possibly worst of all for Filbrick and caryn, it’s the potential loss of that meal ticket. Because if this got out, if people knew that ford had fucked his sister, what college would take him? What programs would have him? He wouldn’t be able to have a career bc no one would want to be involved with something like that. And Filbrick and Caryn can’t risk something like that happening. So the twins are discovered and they do everything they can to gaslight ford into blaming Stan. And the thing, it almost works. Yeah, i think ford is extra protective of fem Stan, but like i said before, that also carries over into feeling extra betrayed when shit breaks bad. And there’s just no way that Stan accidentally breaking the perpetual motion machine is the first and last straw. I don’t think it’s quite as intense when Stan is a girl vs an identical twin brother but ford’s desire to be his own person, to have his own accomplishments and interests that are in no way attached to someone else, to be seen as unique and special, that’s all there, and he doesn’t want to admit it, but Stan’s constant presence is smothering. You hear negative shit enough, it starts to cement in your mind, and ford is constantly hearing from others that Stan is riding on his coattails, that she’s useless and worthless without him looking out for her.

So when they’re caught, Filbrick and Caryn are quick to get them separated and very quick to start telling ford that it was all Stan’s fault, she seduced him somehow, she tricked him, she lies, he knows that she lies, this is nothing new. She’s so desperate to keep using him, because she knows as well as everyone else that she can’t make it out there on her own merits bc she has no merits. She needs ford, and what a perfect way to trap him. And ford is like wait no bc he’s the one who initiated the whole thing, and he knows the kinds of thoughts he’d been having about Stan for years, but still, those nasty little voices in his head, the ones that say that he deserves bigger and better things, things he really knows he can’t have if anyone knew about what he does with his sister, those voices make him wonder. Yeah, he was the one who kissed her first, but did she seduce him? Did she manipulate and slyly, subtly convince him that this was ok? Was she trying to trap him? She still talks about going off sailing all the time, and that’s a dream from childhood, right? That’s not actually something they’re really going to do, right? Stan doesn’t really still think that’s an actual option, right?

It almost works. It really almost works. I go back and forth on this, but it’s probably Shermie who drops the bomb. I headcanon an older Shermie, old enough that he’s not really close to the twins. By the time they’re really up and running around, he’s out of the house. He and his wife live close but not too close. Maybe somewhere in NY. So even when they’re teenagers, he’s distant. And it’s always a crapshoot on whose side he’s going to be on in the case of twins vs parents. But like the parents, i think he also regards Stan as a bit of a waste. Not as bad as them, but he’s definitely disappointed by her. I’m not sure if i want him to know the extent of the abuse she suffers, but he definitely knows how they talk to her, and he mostly agrees. So i don’t know if Filbrick and Caryn would let him know exactly why they’ve shipped his sister off to an asylum—because the fewer people who know, the less the shame—but he does know that’s where she is. And one day he says it in front of ford, and that snaps him out of everything else. All of those horrible thoughts of maybe she deserves to be sent away (they tell ford it’s to some distant aunt or something), they never should have done all this, those fly out the window, and ford loses his shit entirely. He’s a hair’s breadth away from burning the house and pawn shop down.

He finds her. He gets her out. He gets them away, but damn, it’s bad for a long time. Stan is traumatized from everything she goes through. The “therapy”, the drug cocktails. I don’t know if ford would fess up to how close he got to believing the things their parents said or if Stan would figure it out, but they also have to deal with that fall out. Ford bending over backwards, folding himself in a pretzel to try to make it up to her, and stan wants so badly to trust him again, but it’s broken. He let them take her away. He let them lock her up. Just her. He let them tell him that she didn’t love him, that she was using him, and he believed it. And yeah, it’s Stan and ford so of course she’s going to forgive him, but it’s a long, difficult road before they can be happy again.

What do you think would happen in fem!Stan aus if their parents find out her and Ford are having sex?

whoa boy. I mean. it would be Bad. I'm in the camp of Filbrick was an abusive dad, far more so to Stan than to Ford. With Stan, I lean towards it was physical as well as emotional and verbal. Ford didn't exactly have it easy with the weight of all filbrick's expectations placed on his shoulders, feeling like he had to be extra perfect bc of his birth defect and his intelligence, and this sense of responsibility for Stan, like anything Stan did was a reflection on him. I'm also not very forgiving to Caryn. I see a lot of people saying things like "she loved her boy" and I'm just not so sure. Especially with fem Stan, I think Caryn was critical about her looks and would she ever find a husband, and she let those criticisms be known. Stan never had to wonder if her parents didn't like her. They were clear on that front. Last born, totally unexpected, another mouth to feed, and worst of all: a girl.

I typically also think that the entire family hides the severity of what happens to Stan from Ford. it's the one cause they're all united on. I think filbrick and Caryn keep it secret as a means to control ford, because they think (know for a complete fact) that if ford knew, he would flip his lid and they would lose that potential meal ticket. they know that ford is choosing Stan over everything. Stan keeps it a secret because she's terrified that if ford knew, not only wold it break his heart, but he might try to fight for her, and she's so scared that filbrick would start hitting him too.

as for getting caught. yikes. I think they would place all the blame on Stan and the beating would very nearly kill her. it would just be terrible. typically with my version of the fem!stan au, I keep a lot of things very close to canon. She's even still named Stanley rather than constance bc I think doing that shows how little filbrick regarded her when she was born. their life plan was two boys and that's it (I headcanon older shermie). not only does Stan show up unwanted, but she also has the gall to be a girl. I usually still go with fem Stan being thrown out after the science fair incident, rather than other things I've seen like her running away. but for this, for them getting caught, it's the late 60s-ish. I think they might bring her to an asylum. maybe if it was something slightly less, like if she got knocked up but they didn't know it was bc of ford, maybe they would try to marry her off or ship her away to distant relatives. but this is so huge, I really think they'd have her committed. and ford, oh man, if ford knows that's what's happening, he'd go ballistic. ford is far, far more protective (and consequently, far more hurt and angry when betrayed) of fem Stan. that's not just his twin, not just the person he's in love with, it's his little sister, and despite the romantic/sexual feelings, that's been drilled into him his entire life. big brothers are supposed to take care of their little sisters, and ford is the big brother that really matters when it comes to Stan. they've always been so close. two halves of a whole, it doesn't work if they aren't together

yeah, I think he'd just lose his mind. literally clawing thru the dry wall. I think if they got caught, there wouldn't be a chance for the science fair shit to go down. ford would blow up at his parents, blow up at Shermie, and he would leave fire and brimstone in his wake trying to rescue Stan and get them as far away as possible to restart their lives. in some ways it's a happier ending for them, but man is it rough