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samsno1 · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, idk how often you do requests but could you do a mid season Sam fic. The reader is with the FBI with the unexplained cases and she meets the brothers. It would be funny if they tried to convince her that they are also with the FBI and she somehow catches them in their lie. They work together in the case and Sam and the reader end up falling for eachother. Thanks you so so much!!!!

Caught

Sam Winchester X F!Reader

this took me so long to write i'm so sorry. i don't reeeeally like the ending but i did the best i could. i hope this is what you expected bby <3

Summary: You were assigned a complex case and you end up meeting two very weird men who were, apparently, also FBI agents but...why are they named after famous rockstars?

Warnings: FLUFF, descriptions of murderer, murder scenes and violence (usual supernatural shenanigans), sam is an 'intimidating woman enjoyer™', use of Y/N, the writer (me) has no idea how fbi works because she isn't an USA resident, NOT PROOF READ, english is not my first language

W.C.: 8,8k

enjoy!

You had climbed the ladder in the world of criminology considerably fast considering your age. Getting into the FBI in your late 20s was probably one of your biggest achievements and, of course, men tended to make disgusting comments about how such a young woman got such a difficult job – including claiming you opened your legs to get this far. You didn’t mind, actually, it added to your ego to be above those guys – as if they even deserved to be in a job that required empathy towards the victims.

Still, even your superior was shocked at the case he found. A couple had been killed inside their room without any signs of forced entry. All doors and windows were locked and nothing inside the house had been stolen; the bodies seemed to be torn apart from the inside out since there were no knife or bullet wounds and he put you on the case. He thought you would have the abilities to deal with something like this – ‘you’re a prodigy’ he had said – and the guts. The crime scene was absolutely vile; there was blood everywhere and their faces had the skin peeled off to the point their cranial bones were visible. You had seen some stuff, but nothing like this.

The first thing that you did when you got to town was talking with the local police so that you’d learn more about the town’s history with murderers – especially the unexplainable ones. They told you something close to an urban legend: the house that the couple was renting was cursed according to the locals. Decades ago, three kids got killed by their parents in rage, who committed suicide afterwards. They never found the kids bodies and the case went cold after a few years, the police giving up on finding their remains. You found that absolutely unacceptable, giving up on children like that should be a crime, but it wasn’t up to you. Ever since the assassination, every person that rented or bought the house died in unexplainable ways and the police had started to practically ignore or do the bare minimum on the case.

“We’ve been having problems with that house for years” Said the sheriff, a man with a grown out beard, deep eyebags and average height. Not what you would expect for a sheriff given his dismissiveness towards you and the mess his office was. “The previous sheriff also received complaints from townsfolk regarding the place but we could never find out anything. There were no clues, no suspects, just…nothing” He finished, his arms waving around tiredly.

“This is probably why they put the FBI on the case” You said to yourself, guaranteeing the man wouldn’t hear you. You took notes on your notebook, your legs crossed as you sat in front of the sheriff, his table between both of you. You could sense his eyes on you and feel his unasked question floating around in the air. “Anything else, Sheriff?” You asked, looking up from your notes.

He seemed to wake up from his thoughts, shaking his head lightly at you. “No it’s just…Why do you need three FBI agents to work on this?” He asked, on edge, a worry line prominent in his aged face as he squinted at you. Three? You furrowed your eyebrows and leaned back on the chair, closing your notebook.

“I’m not aware of the other two working alongside me” You say. You thought about what your boss had told you and didn’t remember him saying anything about partners, especially two. You usually worked alone most of the time, functioning better on your own. Then again, this was a difficult case, maybe they thought it was better than one federal agent working on this.

“They came by earlier today, asking about the same house and the murderers. They were tall, one of them was…very tall and had long hair. The other one was less serious and, honestly, unprofessional. I think they said they were agent Page and Plant” The sheriff filled you in and now this seemed like a joke. You raised an eyebrow. You had a peculiar taste in music considering it was the 2000s and your father barely listened to anything further than the 90s, resulting in you growing up to know most of the rock bands that were at their highest from the 60s to the 90s. That included Led Zeppelin. And it would be too big of a coincidence for both guys to work together with last names such as those.

“I’ll talk to them about the case, thank you very much Sheriff” You say, raising yourself from the chair and extending a hand to politely shake his. You walked out of his office with a question in your mind and thought about looking up Page and Plant on the database to see if anything showed up when you got to your room tonight. For now, you had to take a look at the crime scene while it was still daylight.

–

Your car’s engine died down as you turned the key. You opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle, adjusting your suit over the white button down you wore underneath. You shoved your car key in your pocket and, when you looked up, you saw another car that easily stood out from the others around the street – a black Chevrolet Impala which you couldn’t guess the specific year just by looking. It was a very beautiful car and you secretly praised in your mind whoever owned it – it seemed well taken care of.

You walked to the crime scene, taking your badge in hand to show it to the police officer that took care of the place when you saw two men, also in suits, talking with one of the officers – two tall men, one had longer hair. The officer approached you as you got closer and you simply showed your badge to him before he nodded and lifted up the ‘crime scene’ tape for you to go underneath. You ducked down and mumbled a thank you as you made a beeline towards the two guys.

You wondered what you were going to say and how you were going to question them about their identity without seeming like you’re assuming anything. As you walked closer, they were finishing their conversation and were turning to leave making you almost bump right into them. They stumbled back and you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

“Who are you?” The shorter one asked you and you took the badge out of your pocket again with a sigh, making sure he reads your name and sees the picture of you that clearly stated you were a federal. He hummed and looked towards his partner, a silent conversation going on between them. You interrupt.

“And you?” You ask and they get their own badges out. You extend a hand to the taller one, silently asking you if you could take a look at it. He gave it to you willingly, which was one less red flag to take into consideration. You looked through everything and it all seemed alright…until you looked at the name on the bottom. Jimmy Page. Is this serious? You look up at them with a judging look and you see the tallest swallow harshly. “Your parents were big Led Zeppelin fans I assume” You say.

“Yeah, yeah they– ha– they were” Jimmy says in a way that’s not believable at all, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. The shorter one closes his eyes and shakes his head discreetly in disappointment – which doesn’t go unnoticed by you. You give Page his badge back and turn to – apparently – Plant.

“I didn’t know that I would have partners in this case, but maybe it’s for the better. What did you find out about the case? Just so we are on the same page” You look between both of them. Plant nudges his partner in the ribs and, before mumbling somewhat of a curse to Plant after practically jumping in place, Page starts to explain to you about their side of the investigation. He seemed professional enough, with a notebook in his hands as he told you everything they could make up from what they knew so far, even sharing with you his assumptions. You were impressed as you started telling him about what you thought – a weird case, too many murders, few clues…Plant stayed quiet most of the time until about halfway through your conversation he said he was going back to his car and you took that as a hint to call it a day.

“Well, I think we are going to work well together, Agent L/N” Page says with a polite smile and you nod, smiling yourself. You took one of your cards where your professional number was written on along with your name and offered it to him. He gently took it from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours.

“Just in case you have anything else to share” You said and he nodded, a strand of his hair falling over his face, which he mindlessly put back with a brush of his hand. “It was great meeting you, Agent Page”

“You too” He said and, sensing the end of the encounter, you started to walk back to your car. You still couldn’t shake the thought of those two being too suspicious for your liking and you were determined to look them up and see if Agents Jimmy Page and Robert Plant actually existed. You walked fast, your heels knocking against the concrete and you didn’t notice Page’s eyes on you, lost in the movement of your hair as you walked away. What woke him up from his trance, though, was his partner honking and signaling for him to hurry up. He rolled his eyes and walked to his own car, stealing one last glance at you. You turned your head back right on cue, giving him a polite smile and a small wave. He awkwardly waved goodbye back and started to walk to the honking Impala.

You had assumed the unknown car belonged to them and you had written down the plate in your notebook discreetly – just in case. You were impressed by their ability – well, Page’s ability – to analyze crime scenes but you weren’t stupid. You couldn’t just erase the fact that you had no idea who those two were and you were determined to find out, one way or another.

–

Meanwhile, in the Impala, Sam got inside the car in the passenger’s side, almost hitting his head on the roof – like he did most days. Dean was impatiently waiting for him to get in until he saw something clasped in his brother’s hand, his eyes quietly scanning the white paper. In Sam’s distraction, Dean reached for it before he could react. “Hey!”

“You got her number? Wow Sam, never thought of you like that” Dean teased as he looked through your name written in cursive writing and your phone number right under it. Sam snatched the small card back from his brother and shoved it in his pocket, glaring at Dean.

“Shut up man, this is her professional number, she gave it to me so we could talk” He defended as he put his seatbelt on. He mindlessly brushed a hand through his hair again, getting it out of his face as he heard Dean chuckle to himself as Baby’s engine roared to life. Sam looked back to his brother and waited for more teasing to come – as it always did.

“Yeah, talk.” He said, the double meaning in his words floating around in the air but being ignored by Sam. Dean pressed his foot on the pedal so the car would start to move as he shifted into gear. “Besides, she’s an actual FBI agent, don’t you think she’s going to suspect that we aren’t?”

“Dean, I did go to law school, I can manage my way out of this” Sam said with a mischievous smile. He really thought he could, he knew he was smart and he was a damn good liar – he lied in college for a very long time about who he was and what his family did. Not something to be proud of but it came in handy, especially when both him and his brother were in trouble. He had practically lied his whole life about who he truly was, not entirely giving away specific details – especially those who involved his family. Sometimes he regretted it – like he did with Jess – but it was always safer not to know, for both parties. Or so he thought.

“Don’t think she’s stupid–”

“I don’t think she’s stupid–”

“Let me finish” Dean scolded, raising a hand to silence his brother, his eyes still on the road. It was often funny to pay attention to their brotherly behavior and how anyone could know who was the oldest just by these simple interactions. Dean raised his hand and Sam silenced, listening, like how it was when they were kids. “Don’t think she’s naive, she is in the FBI, working alone on a case. I don’t know much about federals but I’m sure that’s not for everyone”

Sam stayed quiet. He knew Dean was right but it wouldn’t hurt to try. Still, he really didn’t think you were stupid, it was impossible to. The way you talked about the case in detail, relating your point of view and what you could gather in a few hours was more than enough evidence to show him you deserved this job more than anyone. He wasn’t used to seeing women in this field, but everytime he did he was convinced that men were definitely unfairly placed higher. Yet, he still didn’t want to get arrested again so he needed to convince you that he and Dean were legitimately federals.

The conversation drifted away in another direction as Sam stared out the window and replied to the small talk Dean made with him every now and then – when he didn’t crank up the volume once Metallica came into the radio playing Creeping Death while they were talking. With a chorus of ‘Die, die!’ being sung by Dean while he beat his hands on the steering wheel to the drum rhythm, Sam’s mind drifted away and he fell asleep with a head against the window, the tiredness of sleepless nights catching up to him.

–

These fuckers. You thought to yourself as you stared mouth agape to the pictures of who you learned were actually Sam and Dean Winchester – not Jimmy Page and Robert Plant. Two brothers, presumed dead a couple years ago.

Your coffee sat cold over the wooden table of the hotel you were staying the night at. You had already changed into your pajamas and taken a hot shower when you decided to take a look at the case again. Two hours later you remembered the two men you encountered and, when you looked a bit deeper in the police files, the results were horrifying. It actually wasn’t that hard to find out about them, a quick look through the FBI database and you found their exact faces – even if Pag- Sam’s hair was relatively shorter then now. You were beyond pissed, especially at yourself, how could you not have known this? How could you let yourself get played like this? Just because the tall guy was a bit of a nerd and kind of cute? Ugh!

You started pacing around your room, not knowing what to do. Confronting them could kill you, they were murderers after all, according to the database, they had killed civilians and federal agents equally as much. You were strong, both physically and mentally, but there was no way you were escaping two guys that were over six feet tall and weighed about two hundred pounds each. You had to play smart, you had to catch them in a weak moment and then. Bingo. You stopped in your tracks and – like a lightbulb lightened up above your head – you had the perfect plan. You had to wait until the next day for you to execute it but it was going to be worth it. You sent their mugshots to your phone through your e-mail and any other evidence that you could use against them.

You still felt slightly weirded out about them. They didn’t seem dangerous, they didn’t freak out the moment they saw you and they were confidently adding to the investigation with actual useful analysis. You were looking deeper through their files and found out they lost their mother in a fire at a very young age – the youngest wasn’t even one year old yet – and their father had died a couple years ago, in ‘06. They had a pretty sketchy life, living off stolen credit cards and fake identities but something interesting you found out was that Sam Winchester actually went to college, he went to Stanford and your eyes widened at that. You wondered what made him quit, maybe his father dying and his brother needing him, maybe he got kicked out, still, going to college after having a childhood like that was more than impressive.

You kept reading about them until the late hours of the night and you only noticed you fell asleep over the papers you left on the table and your computer when a phone ringing startled you awake. The noise echoed inside your head and, as you lifted your head, the sunlight getting into the room through the curtains hurt your eyes. You only noticed how bad you’d slept when you felt a pain shoot through your neck and down your back as you turned your head to look for the phone – great. You groaned and felt around the table with your hand until you felt the square shape of the device and its humming. You clicked to answer after slightly clearing your throat so you’d seem less sleepy and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello, Agent L/N speaking”

“Hey Y/N, how are things going?” The voice of your boss made you unconsciously straighten your back and swallow harshly. You looked at the time on your computer and your heart fell to your stomach. 11:36AM – shit!

“Hey Sir, everything is running smoothly. I’m currently collecting evidence and later I’m going to the morgue so I can look through the autopsy”

“That’s great, you always do a great job kid” He said and you could feel him smiling on the other side of the line. You felt bad for kind of lying but you had been worrying about other stuff last night.

“Thank you Sir, I’ll report back to you as soon as possible” You reply.

You talked for a while longer as you disclosed the case and, when he finally hung up, it was already past noon. As you got ready for your day, doing your daily morning routine as quickly as you could, you felt your stomach rumble when you got out of the shower, reminding you that you hadn’t had breakfast. You decided then that it was better to stop at a diner or somewhere so you could eat something to go on with your day – since it was already lunchtime you couldn’t necessarily call this brunch. You finished getting ready, putting on your shoes and grabbing the keys to your car while you looked up the closest place to eat something quick.

You drove to the nearest diner that had a decent rating and stopped at the parking lot. When you looked around, you couldn’t believe your luck – or rather the lack of it. The infamous Impala was parked a couple meters from you in all its glory. You audibly sighed but you couldn’t just find another place to eat as quickly, besides, you know what they say, keep your friends close and your enemies closer. Maybe eating at the same place as them was actually a good strategy. You grabbed your wallet and locked your car, confidently walking towards the diner entrance.

The bells dinged above your head as you got in, some eyes looking your way with the noise – including Sam’s. Him and his brother were sitting in a booth in the far corner of the diner, Sam turned in the direction of the door and Dean facing away from it, in his brother’s direction. Sam had his laptop open in front of him as he ate a salad, Dean was eating a burger. Thay had probably been talking before you came in because when you came through the door Sam went quiet as he looked over his brother’s shoulder and Dean kept talking, hunched over his food. You couldn’t listen to their conversation but you gave Sam a slight smile and a nod, your stomach turning as you faked sympathy, as if you didn’t just friendly greet a murderer. He nodded back and that's when Dean slightly turned to look behind him and see you, nodding as well.

You started to walk towards their table, the weight of your hidden gun on your hip more than evident. Just keep calm, you were trained for this. You decided to keep to yourself that you knew their true identity, after all, you were one step ahead of them and, deep down, you knew they could be useful. Their intelligence was beyond impressive – faking your death wasn’t something easy to do. You stood above them with a gentle smile.

“Hello agents, mind if I sit with you?” You asked as politely as you could. Sam scooted almost instantly, changing the placement of his laptop to the side of the window. You didn’t miss the eyebrow raise his brother gave him.

“Hey Ms. L/N. No, not at all, make yourself comfortable” He said, smiling at you. He has dimples you mentally stated.

“Yeah, please” Dean agreed, stretching a hand to the seat beside Sam. His voice was slightly muffled thanks to the food in his mouth and you internally cringed as you could see the chewed food when he talked.

“Thanks. No need to call me by my last name, you can just call me Y/N” You simply said as you sat down, looking almost immediately to the computer screen open in newspapers that dated a couple years back. Murders in the same house all with the same time frame from each other. “I see you work even while you were supposed to be on your break, careful not to burn out Agent Page” You said, looking at his side profile. He seemed embarrassed as your sweet voice got to his ears and awkwardly laughed.

“You know…you don’t need to call me Agent Page, that is just an alias, call me Smith, Sam Smith. That’s Dean Wesson” He said. Huh, claiming aliases, smart move Winchester. “And yeah, I’ve been taking a look at the history of the place, apparently–”

“It’s timed killing” You finished. You scooted slightly closer, pointing your finger to the screen where the date of the newspaper was written at. “Every two years on the same date someone was brutally murdered in the house.”

“Yeah and inside the same room too” Dean pointed out. That you hadn’t noticed. A waiter coming to get your order interrupted the conversation you three were having to get your order. You quickly looked through the menu deciding to eat the quickest and most nutritious stuff there could be at a diner. You thanked the boy that took your order and he walked in long strides towards the kitchen. You came back to the talk you were having with the two brothers and Dean continued. “The master suite. And always couples, someone seems to hate true love” He joked.

“Apparently. Have any ideas for suspects yet?” You asked. If you were going to play pretend you might as well acquire some useful information with it. The boys shared a look between them that they thought you wouldn’t catch, but you weren’t FBI for no reason.

“None yet, still looking into it” Sam said, suddenly seeming on edge, shifting his placement on the booth. You were good at reading body language, it was one of the main qualities that got you in the FBI, interrogating criminals was easy exactly because they couldn’t lie. When you learned their behavior and played your way into their head it destroyed them because even if they were silent, even if they didn’t say anything, you knew what they were lying about – flinching when you mention a certain name or changing the leg they were crossing under the table when you named an address. So, Sam couldn’t hide from you earlier, imagine now that you were inches away.

“Really?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and turning your torso slightly more in his direction, leaning your elbow on the table. He was trapped. You thought about confronting them here, questioning them about their identity in public but you thought better – they definitely had guns on them and two beats one. Either way, you’d put him in a challenging situation, confronting him without even disagreeing verbally. He felt intimidated and now seemed unsure of his own conclusion – how you loved playing these games.

“I mean there’s barely any clues” He laughed nervously. “I was going to call you to see if you had any idea”

“I don’t either, as you said, no leads” You said. The waiter arrived with your food right then and you politely thanked him, drifting away from the conversation you were having with Sam as you started to eat. This time you weren’t paying attention and Dean questioned Sam with a look. What is she on? And the youngest shrugged. You swallowed your food with a pleasant hum, just now noticing how hungry you truly were. “I was thinking we could go to the morgue, if you haven’t already. Take a look at the bodies, see if we find anything”

You were purposefully playing right into their game, faking cluesness and at the same time taking advantage of their abilities to solve the case. It was more important to you to solve whatever was going on to bring peace back to this town than to arrest the brothers who were supposed to be dead. You’d learned that men tended to believe that you were stupid very easily, that you had no idea what you were doing and you started using that to have your way with them. With big doe eyes and feigned innocence you could get very far.

“That’s where we were going later actually. It’s good if you tag along” Sam tells you.

“I would even if you didn’t want me to” You said, joking, but not really. Your tone was humorous but your smile was bitter. They didn’t seem to notice though and Sam even chuckled slightly at your sarcasm. You noticed the dimples in his cheeks and how boyish his smile was, full of bright white teeth and sincerity. You almost felt bad for being rude until you remembered they were killers – even if they didn’t look like it. Sam didn’t seem the type to brutally murder someone, Dean seemed too stupid to be able to get away with it for so many years, even faking his own death and walking around normally – you’d bet he was the one with the idea to put the name of famous rockstars as FBI aliases.

By the time the conversation was over, so was your food. You left enough money for the bill and a tip and stood up from the booth. “Okay, well, let’s go, we have a lot to do today boys” You said, adjusting your suit, unnecessarily dusting it off. You eyed Dean’s plate, the mess he made similar to how a child would eat. You would have laughed if you were in a more friendly situation. You looked at Sam and with a smile you said: “Don’t be late pretty boy, I’ll be waiting for you”

Then you turned around, politely nodded goodbye to Dean and started walking away, holding back a laugh. Sam stood still, stunned as he stared at you walked out the door, the bells above you ringing twice – one for when you pulled the door, the other after you let it smoothly close behind you. Dean was staring too, his bright green eyes filled with confusion. Once he turned to look at Sam he saw his younger brother completely zoned out, looking in the direction where you once were. He snapped his fingers in front of Sam’s face, who immediately looked at Dean.

“Pretty boy?” Dean questioned, holding back a smirk as Sam rolled his eyes.

“Dean…”

“She’s got you man. I get it, strong and intimidating women, I understand, I understand”

“That’s not it, she seems…off” Sam points out, looking at the door once more to make sure you wouldn’t come back and leaning closer to unnecessarily speak in a lower voice to Dean. “I think she might be an it, the monster we are looking for”

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Really? Why?”

“The way she’s acting is, I don’t know, weird”

“Look Sam I know you’re not used to having women hit on you but that doesn’t mean they are monsters” Dean teased, Sam gritted his teeth.

“Dean, I’m serious!”

“Okay, alright, we are going to investigate then” Dean said, raising his hands in fake surrender to his brother’s scolding. “But it doesn’t make sense to me. Didn’t we consider it to be a vengeful spirit?”

“Maybe, or maybe we are dealing with something completely different”

“Alright smart-ass, but if you’re wrong you owe me a six pack”

Sam scoffed but he wasn’t one to turn down any bet. He had thought your behavior was weird the moment you stepped foot in the diner. The questions you asked, the way you would constantly question his abilities, there was something going on and he could sense it. Besides, he liked betting with Dean, especially winning, so there was no way he wasn’t accepting his brother’s challenge.

“Deal” Sam said, hitting his palms against the table and standing up, ready to leave and go to the morgue. Dean followed his movements and stood up with a cheeky smile, taking out his wallet to pay for the food.

–

At the morgue, you waited about 5 minutes until they arrived. When they walked up to the entrance you were waiting at, Sam and Dean saw you in a much more serious state as you read through your notes and made annotations here and there. The noise of their footsteps made you look up and put your little notebook back in your pocket and place your pen behind your ear. You crossed your arms in front of your body and waited for them to get closer. Your heels were starting to hurt the bottom of your feet from standing too long in the same place and you were overwhelmed with different emotions – towards the men and yourself.

You weren’t necessarily scared of Sam and Dean, you were trained not to be, but it was never in your plans to be alone in a city with federal criminals, it would be downright ignorant not to be at least nervous with the situation. You were keeping yourself friendly without giving away any hint that you might know who they were, debating internally which would be the worst case: if you confronted them or stuck beside them for longer – what’s that say again? Friends close, enemies closer.

“Hey, Y/N” Sam called you and you turned your lips upwards in some-kind of a smile. He mirrored your expression and you caught his dimples again, your eyes wandering around his face. You broke the stare when Dean cleared his throat and, when you looked at him, he had his eyebrows furrowed, giving Sam a side-eye – more like a diagonal one, since, well, Sam was a big guy. In your own trance you hadn’t noticed how Sam was also looking at you like you were a beautiful piece of art – damn it, focus.

You also cleared your throat and that seemed to wake Sam up. “Hello Sam, Dean” You said, nodding to each “Shall we go inside? The longer we take the further the killer goes, come on” You turned your back to the and started walking inside the morgue. Dean waited until you walked further and held Sam by the elbow, making the youngest look at him in confusion.

“Stop that” Dean whisper-yelled.

“Stop what” Sam whispered back.

“Whatever your eyes are doing, I’m gonna puke if you keep that up”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You stop it, you’re reading too much into it”

“Hey, you are the one that said she might be dangerous and, honestly, you are kind of a monsterfu-”

“Dean!” Sam pushed his shoulder to shut him up.

“C’mon you were hypnotized, maybe that’s what she does, or you are just in love” Dean shrugged his shoulders, holding back a grin. He loved making Sam mad.

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Let’s go now or do you have any other stupid remarks?” Sam didn’t wait for an answer as he followed the direction you went in. Dean mocked his brother, mimicking Sam’s words to himself in a high pitched tone and went along.

You were already putting your gloves on when they came into the room, the dead bodies laying before you - or at least what was left of them. The lower part of the couple’s bodies was covered beneath the pale blue blankets and both torsos were exposed. It was an awful sight and, if you were about ten years younger, you would’ve puked. Everything was dilacerated, they were practically disfigured, their faces barely recognizable. Huge gashes adorned their bodies that even cleaned up still looked absolutely vile. Behind you, Dean hissed.

“Wow” He exclaimed.

“Yeah, very brutal, whoever did this wanted them to feel the pain” You said, snapping the latex gloves against your wrist and grabbing the file about the autopsy in your hands. You skimmed through the words and placed it back on the table where it previously was, turning back to the bodies to see Sam already looking through them, Dean putting on the blue gloves the mortuary offered. You approached Sam’s side and crossed your arms as you watched him work, his hands roaming through the deep rips on the skin, he seemed to come to the same conclusion you did. “It’s not a clean cut, see” You pointed out and he nodded, turning to you.

“Yeah, the skin is–”

“Ripped, not cut” You paused “How can someone do this and just…get on with their lives?” You thought out loud. You discreetly looked up to Sam’s face to see if he had any reaction to your words, to see if his face faltered when you mentioned how psychotic it would be to keep going after killing someone, to see something, anything…

His face was blank.

“You’d be shocked at what…people can do” Sam replied. He seemed to hesitate before saying ‘people’, a hard swallow, a thought behind his eyes and you marked that in your mind for later.

“Sam, I work in the FBI too you know, I’ve seen shit” Maybe you were harsh, maybe you were just defensive or maybe the years of being brought down by men in your field made you snap at his words when they weren’t that deep. He seemed to catch on to your aggressiveness and stumbled over his words to try and reword his phrase.

“No– I-I know it’s just– I mean–” He couldn’t get the words out. You softened at that, noticing your defensiveness was, in fact, exaggerated. You chuckled at him and waved your hand dismissively.

“I get what you meant” You said and he seemed to calm down, giving you a slight smile. Dimples. Again. You turned back to the bodies in front of you and reached for your pocket to get your notes. You started patting with your other hand for your pen through the other pockets and when you didn’t feel the distinctively cylindrical shape of the object you started to freak out. Where’d I leave it…

Sam noticed your squirming and when he saw the notebook in your hand he knew exactly what you were looking for. He held back a chuckle as he watched you try your hardest to remember where the pen was, the concentration in your eyes almost touchable.

“Hey” Sam called and you turned your head to him. He reached his hand up, close to your cheek and you could sense the heat radiating from his body. You froze in place as you thought that you were caught, that Sam’s intelligence overpowered yours and he figured out that you knew who he was. Well, you were wrong. Sam caught the pen you had put behind your ear between his fingers and slid it off of it, watching as your hair fell back into place. You wanted to bury yourself whole inside the ground as you felt heat spread through your face. “Here” He said, with a cheeky smile.

You took the pen out of his hand, your fingers brushing lightly against each other “Thanks” You mumbled. You started writing away what you figured from the autopsy but you couldn’t get your mind off of how close Sam had gotten. The warmth that he emitted was captivating, comforting even. How could you even think that? You were a professional, what the hell! You shouldn’t be feeling this way, you had a job to do, lives to save. Sam was a killer, you put killers in jail. That’s it.

“Okay so…” Dean spoke up, breaking your embarrassment “...We can discard any murder with weapons like guns or knives, those can’t do…this” He made a face and pointed towards the wounds. You nodded in agreement as you wrote it down. When you looked up at them again they were sharing a look, having a full conversation without even speaking. You weren’t a professional in facial expressions but you could read the room, you were being kept in the dark about something. You decided against confronting them, unneeded drama in the current settings because, indeed, the longer you took to solve this case, the closer the killer was to killing other people.

“So, I have no idea if you already did but I didn’t look further in the room where the murder happened. I think I’m going to go back to the house and see if the local cops missed anything” You said, not waiting for an answer as you pocketed your notebook again and started taking off your gloves. You didn’t request their company as you were, first, still trying to figure out why they were so adamant about solving this case, second, you had to figure this murder out, and third, you needed to find a perfect moment to confront both of them. “See you around agents”

“See ya” Dean waved at you as you walked away, Sam didn’t say anything. You knew they were going to follow you, you felt their silent conversations lingering in the air as you left the room, discarding your gloves. In your head you could see them communicating with lifting eyebrows and shrugging shoulders – they were so obvious; and predictable.

–

“We are going after her” Sam said to Dean after he heard you leave. Dean nodded as he started taking off his own gloves, side eyeing his brother. Dean wasn’t stupid – he only acted like it – he knew that there was more than one reason for Sam’s eagerness to follow you.

“So…” He started and Sam knew there was something he might not like hearing coming. “Are you going to play the brave soldier saving the damsel in distress?”

Sam stopped and looked at Dean, absolute confusion adorning his features. “What?”

“Man c’mon, you can’t be thinking that she is the monster now can you? Look, I did the tests while you were…pining over her” Sam opened his mouth to argue but Dean didn’t let him speak. “There was holy water in her drink at the diner, the utensils she was using were pure silver…”

Sam was shocked that his brother thought that quickly, he didn’t even notice…Okay, maybe he was infatuated by you a little too much.

“She could be a ghoul,” Sam argued as a last resort.

“Already looked her up, no one that has that beautiful face has died around here. I’ve looked through the FBI database too, she’s there” Dean said. Sam would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the tiniest bit of relief knowing that you were really human. You were, in fact, beautiful, stunning even. Maybe Dean was right, maybe he did like you, a lot.

“Guess I owe you that six pack then” Sam said.

“Hey, I get the six pack, you get the girl, seems like a fair trade” Dean said, raising his eyebrows tauntingly with a cheeky smile on his face. Sam chuckled and shook his head.

“Either way, we have to go after her because if this ghost decides she’s next on its list, we need to get there before she gets hurt” Sam said in all seriousness as he started walking out of the room, going towards the exit. Dean followed suit, the Impala keys already on his hand.

–

They arrived at the house a minute or two after you. You were waiting in the house’s living room as you heard the rumbling of the old car’s engine. You had your weapon ready and loaded as you heard them open and close the door of the house. As soon as they turned the corner, you lifted your gun.

“Stay right fucking there! Don’t you dare move or else I’ll actually kill you, for good this time!” You screamed at them, gun in hand pointed towards Dean’s head. They widened their eyes and stopped all their movement. Sam opened his mouth to try and talk and you shifted the gun to point at him instead. He shut his mouth again and you saw his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. You were fuming, anger making your hands shake lightly.

“Did you really think you were going to fool me? Who do you think you are– Better, who do you think I am?” They stood as still as a rock. “Sam and Dean Winchester” You said their names, venom running through your tongue as you did, your gun pointing respectively at each. “You better start talking or I’m popping your heads off, speak!”

“Okay, okay, look we can explain” Sam started.

“You fucking better”

“We are not dead” He said and you looked at him like he was stupid. “Me and my brother we faked our deaths but we had a reason, a much bigger reason”

“You killed people”

“We didn’t, at least not intentionally, we do the exact opposite, we save people Y/N”

“How? The deaths are there, if you are telling me the truth and really save people you do a terrible job at that” You countered. You admitted you only said this to get under their skin because if anyone knew that saving everyone was impossible was you, a federal agent.

“Put the gun down and we can talk” Dean spoke up, talking to you calmly and moving his hands slowly to try and reason with you. You were reluctant but something in their eyes, their actions towards you didn’t indicate any imminent danger. Maybe you were being stupid and, at the end, you’d be lying in a ditch, lifeless, left there to rot but you wanted to give them a chance.

“If you try anything funny I’ll claw your eyes out with my bare hands” You said and Dean, even shocked, nodded slowly – you were exaggerating but you felt the need to. You sighed and put your gun back in the waistband of your pants and saw the boys breathe in a deep breath of relief.

Sam and Dean exchanged those looks again and finally looked at you. Sam was the one you wanted to talk to, you felt deep, deep down that he was going to tell you the truth and that he was actually a good guy, that all that he did until now wasn’t just an act and he was really nice.

“Me and Dean we…We hunt monsters”

Well, now your hopes are shattered. What the fuck.

You just looked at him like he was clinically insane and waited for him to continue.

“I know it sounds crazy” Because it is “And it probably is but it’s the truth, we don’t think whatever killed that couple was a human, this is why there’s no DNA, not a single clue and why the case is hard. I assume you were assigned it because you are smart and a good agent but this is not your kind of case”

“It’s ours” Dean added and Sam agreed with a nod.

You were dumbfounded. They sounded so serious as they explained to you about the tons of different supernatural beings that existed, things you only ever heard of in fictional books and horror movies. Halfway through the talk you looked physically sick, your face pale and eyes dissociated completely and Sam quickly got a chair, ushering you to sit down. He was looking at you with such a guilty expression, like he felt bad for lying to you.

Once they stopped talking you spent a good five minutes absorbing it all as you stared at your hands folded over your lap. You thought you knew things, you thought you could solve everything, that all you needed to do was analyze everything to its minute details and you’d find a solution. Truth is, you were completely oblivious all this long, so many things that you had no idea existed causing trouble around the world, things worse than humans could ever be. You were an idiot.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Sam asked after a while, making you look up at him. “I know it’s a lot to process…” He said, carefully laying a hand over your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you.

“I’m going to be fine” You said harshly. Sam felt the slight disappointment in your voice and frowned as he looked down at you. He had seen tons of different reactions to ‘the talk’ but this one was one of the worst, where the person feels upset with themselves for not knowing about this sooner, the kind of reaction he saw mostly on authority figures such as cops and federal agents like yourself.

You stood up and his hand fell from your shoulder. You needed to make this right, paranormal or not, this was still your case and you were solving it one way or another.

“Show me how you do it” You said, turning to look at Sam. The phrase got Dean’s attention as well as a sudden tension fell upon the room. Sam looked at you with confusion ��This case is still mine, I want to learn how to get rid of…whatever killed that couple”

Sam exchanged looks with his brother. “I don’t think this is a good idea Y/N, you can get hurt” He said. You rolled your eyes and stepped closer to him, less than a foot between the two of you.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I’m a federal agent, you don’t get to tell me I’m going to get hurt when I literally hunt and kill people if needed” You said angrily pointing your finger at him accusingly “Your little Ghostbusters roleplay doesn’t scare me”

“Okay, can you two stop? Let’s get out of here and go study about the house to see if we find anything about someone who died here who might want revenge” Dean said, approaching and looking between the two of you. “Please”

–

After spending two hours in the nearby library you finally found something. The one responsible for the killings was someone named Alicia Meadows who died in the late 60s, not little kids – it seemed like even the own urban legend the locals passed around was wrong. She was a woman who lived in that house with her husband and kids. One night she found her husband in their bed with another woman and went crazy, killing them both with a shotgun and then shooting herself. Ever since then she’d been killing couples who stayed there, the trauma of the cheating made her assume that everyone who laid in that bed on the same date, every two years, she found her husband and his mistress was also having an affair.

You three soon found out where she was buried and, after the brothers explained to you and made you swear not to arrest them for grave violation, you were driving to the cemetery.

As Dean was digging up the casket you stood beside Sam. “Do you guys do this everyday?”

Sam looked at you with a smile. “No, sometimes we behead vampires too”

You looked at him wide eyed and chuckled. He laughed with you, his face looking ten times more beautiful under the moonlight and the fucking dimples, the damn dimples. Silence fell between you as the sounds of the night – and Dean’s digging – took over. You wanted to talk more, you wanted to know more about Sam because the little you thought you knew was actually a lie. He was nice and, according to the FBI files…

“You went to law school?” You asked him. He sighed. Well damn Y/N so much for breaking the ice, good job.

“I did but…I went back to hunting soon after, you can’t run from this type of job you know?” He chuckled dryly. It was clear that was a sensitive subject for him to talk about.

“If it helps, you would’ve made a good lawyer” You smiled at him. “Besides, you look great in a suit”

He seemed stunned for a few seconds, were you flirting with him? He didn’t get to figure out because Dean made a dramatic pained sound as he straightened his back, breaking the casket open. The putrid smell of death rose and you scrunch your nose. Sam helped Dean get out of the hole and started showering the bones in alcohol and salt and you watched as Dean threw his lighter in making huge flames rise up. You jumped when it happened out of shock and Sam held your shoulders so you wouldn’t fall back, the flames roared loudly with what seemed to be the anger of the woman.

Dean started gathering their stuff and you turned to Sam. “So, is this it?”

“Yeah…pretty simple actually” Sam shrugged. He looked at the fire and you could see the flames dancing in his eyes. You found Sam handsome ever since you laid your eyes on him but now, after a whole day by his side, the light touches you shared throughout the day and the care he showed towards you you wondered if it’d be too bad if you kissed him right now.

“Sam” You called him lowly and he turned to you. You stepped closer and you could see his hands clenching and unclenching by his side, as if he was holding back the urge to touch you. Your faces were inches apart and you could now see every little detail about him. The light stubble that adorned his face and the blush of red in his cheeks that you didn’t know if it was because of the heat of the fire or because you were this close.

You smiled at him and in that moment Sam couldn’t hold himself back. He closed the distance between the two of you as one of his hands cradled your cheek and the other was gently placed on your waist.

You let one of your hands place itself on his neck as you reciprocated the kiss. It was electric and warm, his soft lips over yours felt like a sweetness you didn’t know you were craving to taste. Your heart was beating fast and Sam slowly dragged your body closer to his with the help of the hand he placed on your waist.

When you pulled away you slowly opened your eyes to look straight into his and let out a stupid giggle – like a teenager after kissing her crush. Sam chuckled back as his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly.

“I've wanted to do this ever since the diner” He admitted and you bit back a smile.

“Really?” You asked.

“Really”

The moment was interrupted when Dean honked the Impala, impatiently waiting for you two to finish whatever you were doing so he could go back to the room and finally sleep. Sam showed him the finger as Dean yelled a curse back making you laugh at their stupid teasing.

“Let’s go Sam, Dean’s impatient. We can finish our talk at the motel” You said, your words full of innuendo making Sam turn back to you. You knew you got him when you felt his hand squeeze your waist for a moment before letting go.

“Oh yeah?” He said with a grin, looking down at your mouth and back at your eyes. You nodded.

“Yeah”

A/N: Likes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading XoXo

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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 1 year ago

Text

Kiss It Better - Sebastian Vettel

"Baby, is there any way you can keep the bees down the other end of the yard? I don't mind them, but I don't want to get stung," you said as you propped your feet up on the outdoor coffee table under the veranda.

You knew Seb loved his bees, and you loved them too, but you didn't want them buzzing around you all the time. "Once the flowers grow up there, they won't come down here," he explained, stepping out of the glass doors and handing you the water you had asked for.

"And they won't sting you, I promise," he said, taking a seat next to you. You watched as the bees buzzed around, landing on the flowers in the planters that you had all around the garden. You and Seb had bought the house a little over a year ago now, and it was certainly your forever home.

"So, I was thinking we could put the swings over there?" He said, pointing at a section of the garden that had the trees shadowing it over. "You're already thinking about swings?" you smiled as he ran a hand through his blonde hair.

"Yeah, we've only got a month to go, we need to think about these things," he said as if it were the most obvious answer ever. Seb ran a hand over your heavily swollen stomach, still never getting used to the feel of it. "Even so, they won't be able to go on the swings until they're older,"

"I'm still putting the swings over there, and I will use them until they are old enough," he laughed. Seb was pretty much still a big kid himself. Well, a big kid who loved to race really fast cars, take care of the environment and the people he loved.

"You stay here, I need to water the plants," Seb smiled, pushing himself off of the seat and heading to the hose. Of course, all of the water he used to water the plants was rainwater collected in a drum by the side of the house, but it was covered in plants so it wasn't sore on the eyes.

"OK," you said. Watching Seb watering the plants was just like seeing him in his element. Sure, racing was also his thing, but tending to the gardens and all of that kind of stuff was what he did now.

He leant over the bushes to get all of the plants, but you heard a sharp intake of breath that sounded like a hiss. He dropped the hose and ran to turn it off. "Hey, you alright?" You asked concerned, sitting upright. "Yeah, yeah. I just caught my finger on one of the rose bushes," he said, holding his finger.

You could tell he was trying to hide it from you, but the blood dripping down his hand couldn't be concealed. You looked at it wide-eyed, and he noticed. "Honey, don't worry-" he started, but you were already in full parent mode.

"You sit down, I'll go and get some stuff to clean it up and a plaster," you said, standing and waddling through to the kitchen. You heard footsteps behind you, following you through to the kitchen. You were ignoring the ache in your back and hips as you walked, simply worried about Seb.

He stood behind you, holding his finger. "It's really not a big deal, you go and sit down," he tried to tell you, but you weren't having any of it. You pulled his other hand away to reveal the nasty gash down his middle finger. "Does it hurt?" you asked, ripping a paper towel off the roll and holding it to the wound.

"A bit, but not as much as I know your back hurts," he said, giving you the puppy dog eyes that made you melt. "Honestly, honey, I can take care of this. You need to sit down," he said, blocking your path to the cupboard that had the medical supplies in it.

"I don't do anything anymore, Seb, and I appreciate that, I really do. But, please just let me do this for you," you said, gently pushing him out of the way so you could get the stuff you wanted. "Fine, but promise me you'll take it easy for the rest of the day, OK?"

"I always take it easy, Seb," you chucked, causing him to chuckle along. You found the cupboard and bent over to retrieve the first aid kit from the bottom shelf, but you couldn't really reach. Your bump was in the way and heavily restricted your movements.

"You need some help over there, or are you good?" Seb teased, leaning against the counter next to you. "I've got it," you said through gritted teeth, focusing fully on reaching the bottom shelf. Seb watched for a moment, then deciding that he had had his fun and needed to help you.

"OK, come on, let me help you," he said, moving so he was behind you and gently pulled you up with his hands on your waist. "Sometimes you have to let me help you," he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against the skin.

Playfully, he peppered a few kisses down your neck, his hands gently tracing over your stomach. "Hey, I don't want you getting blood on me," you laughed, wriggling away from him.

"Sorry, sorry, I just can't help myself," he smiled, getting the first aid kit back out and handing it to you. "OK, this is going to hurt," you said, ripping open the package of a disinfectant wipe. "Nothing I can't handle," he said.

You took his finger and wiped it clean, and the blood definitely made it look worse. Seb winced slightly, "Yeah, that does kind of hurt," he said, his cut stinging.

"Sorry," you said, making sure the wound was fully clean before unwrapping a plaster and sticking it onto his finger. "Better?" you asked, looking at your handiwork. You had done a pretty good job, if you did say so yourself.

"I don't know, I think you've missed something out," he smirked, giving you the puppy eyes again. You just couldn't resist those big blues. You lifted his finger to your lips and pressed a soft kiss onto the area, and you saw as a huge smile spread across his face.

"Much better," he smiled, "Now come on, let's get you sat down," he said, looping an arm around your waist and walking you back outside. Helping you back down onto the seat, you propped your feet up.

"Does your back feel any better sat down?" he asked, standing in front of you with his arms crossed. It showed off every muscle in his arms perfectly, and you tried to ignore how crazy your hormones were going right now.

"I never said it hurt?" you said.

"A good husband knows these things, you know?"

"I guess a good husband does know these things, because you are spot on," you smiled, thinking about how lucky you were to have him. "Aw so I'm a good husband? I am flattered," he teased.

"Lay off it," you laughed as he came to sit next to you.

"Do you want a massage?" He asked, trailing his fingers lazily up your arm.

"That is all I want right about now," you said, your back already feeling soothed at just the thought of it. "What about me?" he whined like a child wanting his mother's attention. "Sebastian, wanting you is a given. Now, get massaging," you playfully commanded, turning your back to him.

"Yes ma'am," he giggled, gliding his hands over the span of your back. He worked his fingers into the overworked muscles in your shoulders and back. Carrying the extra weight of a nearly full-term child was difficult work, and it was showing.

When he hit a particularly sore spot, you couldn't help but let out a small groan of happiness. "That good, huh?" he teased, and you could hear the cheeky smirk that was on his face by how he spoke. "Yeah, it really is,"

"I can show you something else that's that good," he said, as he tugged you closer to him. Slowly he planted some more kisses down your neck and across your shoulder. "Hey, not now," you chuckled. "But you're already pregnant, I don't see the problem," he smirked against your skin.

"Seb, go finish watering your plants or something," you laughed, pushing him away.

"Fine, but only because you told me to," he smiled, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. Swiftly, he knelt down and pressed a tender kiss to your stomach. "Don't you move, and I mean it," he said, going to turn the hose on again.

"I won't," you said, thinking you probably wouldn't be able to move, even if you wanted to. You looked out onto the garden of your perfect home, where your perfect husband was tending to the plants and his bees.

And to top it off, you had your perfect child on the way, and your life was shaping up to be the best one you could ask for.

A/N - If anyone has made a request, I promise I am working on it! It's just taking a bit of time. If anyone else has any, feel free to submit 💖

|masterlist|

#f1 #f1 imagines #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagines #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #fluff #sebastian vettel #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel imagines #sebastian vettel fluff #sv5

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fourmoony · 1 year ago

Note

omg haii, i read ur mini seiries called hope, and i absolutely ADORE it!!! you're probably already writing a part 4, but i wanna request an idea - her first b-day and she meets regulus and lily for the first time where regulus is kinda quiet, not involving himself that much and hope penguin-walks over to him and hugs his leg and regulus goes full-on sweet mode omgg and he baby-talks her like "heyy hope" and "i'm your favourite uncle, right?" and hope babbles back <333

i would be in total awe if i saw this in at least one of your parts, it's also my birthday in 10 days so perfect fit in with hope's birthday!!

tysm for reading <333

hi! I love this idea... sorry it took so long, I've been swamped with college work. this one only features Regulus because the story got away from me, but I could do a separate one for Lily if you like. happy belated birthday, I hope you had an amazing day :) hope you like it

𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 (𝟒) - james potter x f!reader - this part doesn't have much james content, sorry!

summary: Hope and Uncle Reggie fluff. 1.9k

masterlist - part 1 - part 2 - part 3

There’s balloons and banners on every wall, presents on every surface, toys strewn all over the floor, and paper plates dotted in various areas.

Hope stands in the middle of it all, in the eye of the storm, the brightest smile you’ve ever seen on her chubby little face. It’s strange, when you really think about it, that she smiles just like James. Considering she’s not biologically yours, nor his. But she smiles like him. Unabashedly, bright, all of her tiny little teeth on display, eyes crinkled at the corners from the sheer force of her happiness. You’ve wrangled her hair into pigtails and she’s wearing the pink corduroy pinafore Sirius bought her with matching pink socks. She’s the epitome of cuteness and your heart can’t take it.

It’s surprising – and yet not at all – that she hasn’t napped all day. It’s not long gone four pm, the party winding down, and there’s been not a single tantrum, nor a moment of calm from your daughter. James, on the other hand, has had several tantrums. He’s adamant Hope has defied all biological laws and is growing too fast. He says it so often you think he might have wished it true, because today, for the first time, you see it.

She’s no longer the baby James brought home bundled in a blanket, with a nervous smile on his face. She’s a bright, loving, happy little girl with so much attitude, so much love, so much energy, and you really feel like maybe she is growing too fast. You can’t slow time, no matter how hard you try, and that makes your lip wobble as you stare at your daughter, pointing sticky fingers at Remus who tries to dodge her, and your boyfriend, who’s trying to corral her with a baby wipe.

All the kids invited to the party have long gone, stuffed with cake and with a complimentary party bag. The cottage is no longer crowded or overrun by hyperactive children. Calm has resumed – well, as calm as any residence with your daughter and your friends inside of it can be. Sirius is half passed out on the sofa from hours of keeping up with his god daughter, legs swung up over the arm, a haphazardly placed party hat on his head. Remus is still trying to dodge Hope’s sticky fingers but is now the one with the baby wipe trying to corral her. He won’t win. You know your daughter and by now, Remus should know that his attempts are futile. But they’re both laughing, even if Remus keeps grimacing every time her hands land on his beige trousers.

“So,” James appears beside you, an overly fond look in his eyes, “Hope’s Epic First Birthday – success?”

You hum, lean into the arm he’s wrapped around you, emulating warmth and comfort and every bit of him you’ve come to love over the years – home – “Massive success. Best parents ever.”

James huffs a laugh and presses a kiss to the side of your temple. He tenses when the doorbell rings. It’s habit, after the war, but you’re safe now, so he releases you with a chaste peck to the lips and jogs off to answer. Remus has strong armed Hope into his lap and is wiping down her hands. You smile. He’s better with her than he would ever know. You can hear James happily talking away to someone, shoes are discarded with a familiar thump by the front door, and then he appears back in the doorway with a wide smile.

Regulus appears behind him, a tentative smile on his face. He’s so similar to Sirius it’s kind of shocking, but the differences are there. Where Sirius is punk rock and messy black eye liner with leather jackets and shaggy hair, Regulus is stoic, regal, neat and put together. It’s been an odd adjustment, watching the two brothers become acquainted with each other again after years of being apart, but it warms your heart every time share a smile or a joke, sometimes an awkward hug. Winning the war was mostly because of Regulus and his behind-the-scenes efforts and when Sirius found out, it shattered everything he’d ever thought about his brother. Watching him recover from what he thought would be mourning his brother, but actually turned out to be healing with his brother, has been beautiful.

“Sirius,” You call, “Regulus is here.”

Sirius perks up, all sense of exhaustion gone, and smiles wide at the sight of his younger brother. Regulus is wearing all black – slacks and a button up shirt. They have the same eyes, same cheek bones, same nose. But Regulus is, for lack of a better word, serious. He’s well put together, posh, a man of luxury, after inheriting half of the Black family riches two months ago.

It’s why, when you spot the sparkly pink gift bag in his hand, you have to bite your lip to stifle a laugh.

“Reg,” Sirius stands, hesitates, but ultimately decides to go for a hug, anyway, “You made it.”

Regulus hugs Sirius back, albeit a little awkwardly, “Of course.”

He turns to you and James, “Sorry I missed the party. All the people, I just…”

James waves a dismissive hand, bright and easy smile on his face, “Honestly, mate, don’t worry about it. Twenty screaming kids is anyone’s worst nightmare.”

Regulus smiles a little, nodding in way of an answer. Hope has wrangled her way out of Remus’ grip and is tottering across the living room floor, dodging stray balloons and wrapped presents as she goes. When she reaches Regulus, she stops, tiny fist clutching at the leg of his trousers. Regulus hasn’t spent much time around Hope. You don’t know if he really likes kids. But when he crouches, a soft look about his eyes you’ve never seen before, you release a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. James guides you to the armchair, pulling you into his lap.

You sit happily, watching the scene before you unfold. Sirius and Remus seem to be as mesmerised by this version of Regulus as you are.

“Hi, Birthday Girl,” His voice is quiet, sweet like honey as he holds the bag out to her, “This is for you.”

Hope looks enamoured by the pink glittery bag, let alone whatever could be inside. Regulus sits it on the ground, legs in a basket to get onto Hope’s level. The bag sits between them like a peace treaty. Hope stares at Regulus and he waits, face blank, lips upturned maybe a little. Her tiny, little hand reaches out, palm flat against his cheek and Regulus closes his eyes for a second before a wide grin spreads its way across his face. Sirius steps around them carefully to reach for the camera by the mantle. Without another word, Hope clambers into Regulus’ lap and sits down. She’s never been shy, so you don’t know why it surprises you so much.

“So,” Regulus starts, holding open the bag so that Hope can see inside, “Start with this one.”

He hands her a neatly wrapped gift, white paper with little pink hearts and you melt at the idea of cold, stoic, Regulus Black in a shop somewhere buying pink gift bags and wrapping paper. He helps Hope a little to unwrap it, and then holds it out in front of her. It’s a book, from what you can see, with a tiger and a little girl on the front cover.

“This book is called The Tiger Who Came to Tea. It’s a muggle book, one my cousin Andromeda used to read to me. I think you’ll like it.” He’s talking so quiet you really think he’s only intending for Hope to hear him.

Your daughter looks entirely fascinated, enthralled by the attention she’s gaining from Regulus.

Sirius snaps a picture, but Regulus doesn’t look up.

He pulls another gift out of the bag, a smaller box, which he helps Hope unwrap again, “Your Uncle Sirius says you’re going to be a famous Quidditch player, one day. This is Plan B. You don’t have to be magic to make potions,” He flips the lid on a little wooden box, engraved with her name, and inside are loads of scribbled on pieces of parchment, “These are my perfected recipes. You’ll go a long way with these, but something tells me you’re going to surpass them by a mile.”

Your lip wobbles as you watch. Throughout the nine months Hope has been your daughter, you’ve thought many times about her future. Sirius has a can do, no worry attitude about her becoming a Quidditch star. You think he’ll move heaven and earth to make it happen for her. But Regulus has given her the beautiful gift of his own potion recipes, and the ability to create and succeed in something she can do with no boundaries.

He’s given her an heirloom, a starting point, an incredibly thoughtful gift and it’s truly beautiful.

“Your mum and dad can probably hang onto this for a few years. But it’s yours, don’t let your dad nick it, I know how bad he is at potions.” Regulus looks pointedly at James, who wipes tears from his eyes as he laughs.

You place your hand over his heart and share a look you’ve come all too familiar with – how lucky are we to have a little girl who is so adored?

The last present Regulus takes out of the bag isn’t wrapped. It’s a teddy bear, brown and small enough for Hope to carry. She takes it from his hands with a wide smile, giving him a small ‘ta’ as way of thanking him. Regulus smiles, nods his head, “You’re welcome, Hope. Happy Birthday.”

She’s up like a shot once presents are finished – as is to be expected. She totters over to Sirius, who looks equally as teary eyed as you and James and shows him the bear with great enthusiasm. You stand to collect the box of potion lists from the floor, holding it gently, a smile on your lips. Regulus is standing now, so you look to him, finger rubbing softly over the engravement of her name, “Regulus, I- thank you. This is a beautiful gift. And the book, she loves tigers.”

He smiles softly, nodding his head, “Remus told me she made Padfoot wear a Halloween costume of a tiger.”

You laugh fondly at the memory as Sirius – who’s holding Hope in his arms as she wriggles – growls at Remus for recounting the story. Remus holds his hands up in surrender, a knowing look in his eyes.

“And the potions stuff is because there should be something from our world for her to access no matter what. I have a feeling she’ll be one of the greats, I wasn’t lying about that. Just like her mum.”

“Can I hug you?” You ask Regulus.

He nods, and so you do. It’s a little stunted, a little awkward, but it means the world over.

“Okay,” James claps his hands together, the remnants of tears on his cheeks like a little snail trail, “Cake?”

“Please.” Regulus nods and follows your boyfriend to the kitchen.

Sirius hands Hope off to James as he passes, who immediately reaches for Regulus. He takes her wordlessly from James, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Sirius reaches over to the mantle, hands you a photograph that’s been left to develop. Hope and Regulus are on the floor, your daughter curled comfortably onto his lap, smiling brightly up at him as he holds the book in front of her. He looks so happy, so content, nothing like the boy you knew in school, Sirius’ estranged brother. He looks like Reggie.

You smile, take your wand from your back pocket and wave it over the photograph.

In small cursive letters, underneath the moving photograph, appears: Hope and Uncle Regulus on Hope’s First Birthday.

Sirius beams.

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spidybaby · 1 year ago

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Omg can I please have some fluff like Kylian and reader visit his parents house for the weekend and it makes Ethan really happy to see reader because she’s his bestie, when they get there Ethan takes her away from Kylian and he gets jealous they spend over 3 hours together and then reader comes back to Kylian in his childhood bedroom where they watch movies and have cuddles💕

"Can you say it again?"

"Blueberry."

You laugh, making him repeat words in english. You love the way his accent sounds, loving the way he pronounces the words.

"I love it." You laugh, squishing his hand. "Don't forget to call your dad."

You were driving to his mother's house. He planned this weekend exclusively for his family and you two to be together.

Since the beginning of the season, he has had so much stress, making him crave some family time.

His mother and brother lived remotely close to his house. Sometimes, even spend nights with him.

But this season, everything changed, Ethan was practicing with the first team, but he was traveling with the second team a lot, and his mom was busy with his foundation. Making the time very much tighter for them.

Fayza went to Bondy. She wanted to get some paperwork and some things ready to sell the house. The thing that made Kylian sad.

His mother's house was the first thing he ever bought with his hard earned money. He wanted his parents to have their own home. So he gifted them the house.

His mom kept the house during the divorce, so it was hers now. Kylian didn't have a say because, as he says, it was theirs and not his.

Before the divorce of his parents, they all used to live there. Even their older brother and Melissa.

But when he moved from Monaco to Paris, Jires went to Turkey and Wilfried to another place closer to Paris. The house felt different.

Melissa and the kids stayed there with Ethan and Fayza. But to him, it was still weird not having his father with them.

"Oui, mon amour."

He was in charge of the music, being the passenger princess he was, refusing to only sit and relax. So he took the dj job.

The call was quick, Wilfried and him exchanged some words and then hang up.

"I want some waffles with whipped cream." He says, stomach roaring.

"Well, you could have had it, but you refused to eat."

"I wasn't hungry. You knew that."

"Maybe because you chose to wake up like ten minutes before leaving."

He pouts, not answering, but his facial expression was enough of an answer.

"We are almost there, bébé." You say pointing at the GPS. "And knowing your brother, he's probably waiting for us."

"Correction, he's waiting for you."

Ethan and you have an amazing relationship. He sees you as an older sister he can trust. Always stealing you and making you two do all sorts of things while visiting.

"He is." You sigh, turning your head to him quickly. "It's not my fault your family loves me more than you."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. He knows you're joking. He actually loves how close you're with his family.

He never met someone who was so perfect with his parents, brothers, and even extended family.

The drive continues for another twenty minutes. Thankfully, the roads were pretty empty, making the drive a fast one.

"Look, we're here." You smile, squishing his arm. "Ready to have an amazing weekend?"

He nods, smiling like a kid on Christmas day. "Oui, I'm so happy."

He helped you with the bags, asking you to go onside and announce yourself, but two little laughs beat you at that.

"Y/n" Lana yells, she throw herself at you.

"Bonjour, mon petit fille." You spin her around. Kissing her cheeks.

You look for her brother, noticing he is in Kylian arms. He's welcoming his uncle. "Bonjour, Isayah."

You got closer to them, kissing his cheek just like you did with Lana. Making him laugh.

Fayza was standing at the front door. The scene was adorable to her. She can easily picture you and kylian in a few years with your own children.

Living in a house with a big garden, she thought about it maybe a little too much. But she can't be blamed. After all, Kylian was the one who described how he pictures your life together.

"Bonjour, my babies." She says, catching your attention. "Come here, let me help you."

She hugs you tightly, repeating the actions with her son. She took Isayah from Kylian arms, following you to the living room of the house.

"Melissa, hello." You say happily, she has become a close friend for you. Always counting on her for everything.

"We literally saw each other like three days ago." She laughs, hugging you.

"She's obsessed with you, that's why."

"You're just jealous, kyky."

He rolled his eyes for the second time, going upstairs to leave the bags and to wake Ethan up.

"How was your exams?" Fayza asks, curious about your life.

"It was good, I think I did a good job."

"You did, don't doubt about yourself." She says, kissing your cheek.

She was like a mom to you, always caring and loving you since you met her. She was extra special to you, knowing you were there to stay since the beginning.

You can hear kylian laughing from the second floor, probably doing something to Ethan or laughing at some joke.

"Boys." Fayza shakes her head. "Come help me, sweet. I can guess Kylian didn't eat breakfast."

"You know your son." You laugh, walking with her to the kitchen where she was cutting some fruits and making waffles.

You chat with her and Melissa, who joined you. Kylian and Ethan were in the living room chatting with their dad.

Wilfried and Kylian were messing with Ethan. He recently changed his style, so he felt a little more confident than usual, which Ky loved.

"Let's eat everybody." You call.

Wilfried shared some stories about his most recent trip, Melissa worked with Kylian, so her stories weren't new for the family.

Ky told them about the next matches, feeling like his stories were kind of repetitive, but you enjoyed them.

The way he was very into creating new ways and opportunities for him and the team to score and win.

"But the news here is, this mademoisell right here." He pats your knee. "Is going to be a valedictorian again."

They all got so excited at the news, Fayza and Wilfried telling you how proud they're of their "daughter."

As the day continues, you spend the rest of the morning helping Ky and Wilfried to prepare the meat and veggies for the barbecue.

It was Ethan the one with the idea of making a big family barbecue and everybody agreed with him.

"After this, you and I are going to play some fifa. This time, you're not beating me." Ethan lightly pushed you, making you laugh.

"Yes, and I want to know about that girl you texted me about." You whisper in his ear, making him blush at the thought of his crush.

"Deal, but first a fifa game."

After lunch, Lana and Isayah wanted you to join them on the pool. Wanting to play with you and their uncle like always.

"Oh, mon bébés." You say sadly, you wanted to swim with them but also you promised Ethan days before to have a chat with him. "As soon as I finish with Uncle Ethan, I'll be here, okay?"

Kylian pouts more than they do. You send him a kiss while you walk inside the house.

Ethan and you have an amazing relationship. He trusted you with his life. Sometimes, when Kylian was away and couldn't get a hold of him, you were there for him. Ready to help.

When it comes to girls, you're his go-to person. Maybe because he knows how much Kylian is a master with the football but not that much in the dating area.

"Okay, pause pause pause." You laugh at him, pushing you in order to make you lose the goal. "You, young man, own me a story."

"I own you anything, woman." He laughs, imitating your tone.

"C'mon, tell me, did she like the roses?"

"She did." He smiles. "Thank you so much for helping me. I don't know what I would do without you here."

"Probably be the best at fifa." You say, making both laugh at that. "But don't worry, E. I'm here for anything you need."

The fifa game took hours, hours Kylian didn't got to spend with you. Hours he was pouting like a child.

He's sitting on the couch hearing the laughs and screams you and Ethan are making. Feeling left out.

He knows feeling like this is dumb, but he's been so busy lately that even spending time with you was a bit difficult.

He helped his parents with picking up the plates, washing them and even helped Melissa with the kids.

And still not you.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Mbappe." You say in this funny accent. He was in his old childhood bed, a single one. He looked so big for the bed.

He turns to the wall, feeling left out and being jealous. "Go play fifa."

"Yeah, it was fun, I had to pick your player." You tease. "But maybe I should have picked Olivier. He's faster."

He turns back to you, eyes narrowed and pout. "Did you just call me slow?"

"You're such a baby, come here, mon amour." You throw yourself on top of him. He hugged you like a koala bear. "God, you're crushing me."

"Good, so you don't go."

"What if we moved and watch something?"

He thinks about it for a few seconds, making you squeak. "Can we watch that scary movie I like?"

"If I say yes, would you let me breathe?"

He laughs, softening the hug, making you sigh and breathe deeply. "Can you get some popcorn?"

You nod, getting up from the bed. But first, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. "Some soda too?"

"You're making me break my diet." He laughs. Kissing your lips.

"Good, once in a while." You return the kiss.

Going down to the kitchen, you notice that Fayza is there, sitting at the kitchen island with a book in her hands.

"Hi, I thought you were asleep by now."

"No, Ky wants to see a movie, and he's kinda grumpy from all the attention everyone is getting from me. Everyone but him."

"Well, he's a man. They always want more but never know how to ask." She laughs, winking at you.

You laugh with her, making a little chat while the popcorn is getting ready at the microwave.

"I'm gonna miss this house. I feel like it was yesterday when Kylian brought me here to meet you."

"Oui, so many memories. But I think it is time for us to move on."

You nod, thinking about the amazing memories you shared with Kylian and his family there.

You place the popcorn in a bowl, grabbing two sodas and leaving Fayza and her book alone.

The movie was good, it has a scary factor. But your mind was still roaming through the memories.

You scratch lightly Kylian arms, something you do when you're cuddling while watching a move or a show.

He's focused on the movie and the popcorn. Not noticing how you're so lost into nothing.

"I wish we could stay longer. I know this is not my family home, but this place has something that I love."

"I get it, I feel like a part of me hurts from thinking about letting this go."

You stayed quiet for a while, trying to focus on a little bit of what's left from the movie. Kylian, on the other hand, got lost into his thoughts, he loved this place.

He wanted to make this a vacation home, to bring his kids to the place where he grew up, where the people supported him.

He wanted to save his childhood house. He wanted his, well, your kids to be able to hear the stories you created there, to be able to feel the magic you two feel there.

He takes the remote, turning the TV off, making you protest. "I have an idea."

"We're not pranking anyone, Ky."

"No, that's not it." He gets up. "Well, that's a good idea, you can't deny."

"No." You laugh.

His hands found yours, intertwining them and looking at you in the eyes. "Let's buy the house."

"What?" You say, taken aback by the sudden proposition.

"Oui, we can use the house for weekend getaways, we can use it for vacations. For special occasions."

"But I thought."

"I know what I said." He interrupts you. "But I can't deny that there's a special something, and in the near future, I want to create more memories with you here. I can't wait for our kids to enjoy this place like we did."

"Oh, bébé." You let his hands go to press your palms to his cheeks, kissing him slowly. Feeling all the emotions. "We have to talk to your mom about it."

"Can you believe that? If she says yes, this will be our first house together."

"This will be your house, Kyky." You laugh, even tho he always told you that what was his was yours, this was different from a t-shirt, this is a whole house.

"No, bébé. This will be ours."

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deliciousangelfestival · 9 months ago

Text

Underworld Insomnia || 3 - B. Barnes

Character : Bucky × Psychiatrist Female!Reader

Summary: As a ruthless contract killer, Bucky is feared in the underworld of criminals. His opponents freeze when they see him, as he is feared among them. However, they don't know that he could be warm to only one person: his psychiatrist. The only person who could make him fall asleep.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 ,-

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.

Upon hearing your plea and witnessing your disheveled appearance, Bucky feels a surge of determination. After all, you had helped him with his sleeping troubles, and now it's his turn to repay the favor. "Let's go back to somewhere safe," he suggests, his voice steady and reassuring.

A glimmer of hope flickers in your eyes at Bucky's offer of assistance. With a grateful nod, you gather Conroy into your arms once more, feeling a renewed sense of purpose and determination.

As you start to move, Conroy's voice breaks the silence with a whisper, "Are we going to run again?"

You pause, glancing down at Conroy with a reassuring smile. "No," you reply softly, your voice filled with determination. "I think we will stay safe for a while."

Arriving at Bucky's house, Conroy's eyes widen in awe as he takes in the grandeur of the surroundings. "Wow, you're rich," he exclaims, unable to hide his admiration.

Bucky can't help but scoff at the comment, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Finally, he feels a sense of accomplishment at being able to impress the young boy, even for a moment.

At that moment, Bucky had assumed Conroy was just a curious kid, until he made another astute observation.

Conroy adjusts his glasses and remarks, "There's no female trace in this place. It looks so empty, which means this must be one of your hidden houses."

Bucky's eyebrows raise in surprise at Conroy's insight. "You hit the nail on the head," he acknowledges, impressed by the boy's perceptiveness.

Bucky begins to piece together the situation. He realizes that you and Conroy must be hiding, especially considering the recent danger you faced. Given the risk of the masked man finding your address, you would unlikely return to your place. Although Bucky doesn't fully trust you, he sees no harm in offering one of his safehouses as a temporary refuge.

When you heard that, you felt relieved. If this place is one of Bucky's hidden houses, it means it's likely off the radar of the group of people who chased you and Conroy.

"Thank you so much for your help, Mr.Barnes," you express gratefully, feeling a sense of gratitude toward him.

Bucky chuckles softly. "Call me Bucky. I feel old every time you call me 'Mr.'"

Before you can reply, Conroy interjects with his typical bluntness. "But you are old."

Bucky grits his teeth and playfully ruffles Conroy's hair. "Go to sleep," he commands, trying to distract the boy.

Conroy protests, "I can't. I'm hungry!" His complaint is cut short when you offer him a piece of chicken. Before returning, Bucky had kindly bought dinner from a fast-food chain restaurant.

As Conroy takes a bite of the seasoned fried chicken, his eyes widen in delight. "Yum! This is the most delicious food I've ever eaten! It's even better than the food in the lab."

Bucky raises an eyebrow, intrigued by Conroy's mention of a lab. What does it mean? Is this the first time the kid has tasted fried chicken?

"I think it's time for me to explain," you suggest, sensing Bucky's curiosity and realizing it's time to share more about your situation with him.

You and Bucky converse in the living room while Conroy enjoys his food, appearing like any other child his age in moments like these.

Seated in different chairs facing each other, you begin, "Conroy is a special kid."

Bucky nods in agreement, recognizing the uniqueness of the situation.

You continue, "He grew up in a lab where all the best scientists gather. His mother is my sister, who is also a scientist."

Memories flood back to you, vividly recalling the day when your sister, weak but beaming with happiness, handed you Conroy. "He's your nephew," she said gently, sealing your bond. Since that day, you promised to protect Conroy.

"The reason why we're hiding is because of the Hercules project," you explain further.

Bucky listens intently, intrigued by the unfamiliar name.

"Hercules is the name of the drugs," you elaborate. "It's designed to make soldiers stronger, undefeatable, with accelerated wound healing, enhanced eyesight, and heightened hearing senses."

"Sounds promising," Bucky comments "What does this have to do with Conroy?"

You close your eyes, remembering the horrors of that terrible night. The day you lost your sister, along with the lab. "The drugs caused people to go insane. Blood poured from their eyes and ears, and they would harm themselves."

Bucky's expression darkens as he absorbs the gravity of the situation.

"The worst part," you continue grimly, "is that the lab wants to mass-produce the drugs for regular people, particularly those who enjoy working out. Just imagine the potential side effects."

Bucky's brow furrows in confusion. "Still, I just can't connect the situation with Conroy," he admits, struggling to understand the full extent of Conroy's involvement.

As you explain further, you clench your fist tightly, the tension evident in your voice. "The only person who could recreated the drugs is my sister. Conroy has an amazing memory. Before my sister died, she made sure he remembered the Hercules drug formula, the calculations, and the side-effects. But what truly made him a target is that he memorized the names of the victims."

Bucky is taken aback by this revelation, his expression mirroring his disbelief. "A 4-year-old understands something so gruesome?" he murmurs, his voice laced with incredulity.

You nod solemnly. "Yes. And that's why we're hiding."

"The people who chase us," you continue, your voice trembling with emotion, "on the day my sister destroyed the drugs, they destroyed the lab. Everything they built turned to ash. And everyone in it, including my sister." A shiver runs down your spine as you recall the horrifying events.

"If they catch Conroy," you whisper, your hands trembling as you clasp them together, "they will torture him, force him to reveal the Hercules drug formula. And after that..." You trail off, unable to voice the unspeakable horrors that may await Conroy if he were to fall into the wrong hands.

Tears well up in your eyes as you speak, the weight of the situation bearing down on you with crushing force. "I pray to God every day," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, "that nothing bad happens to Conroy."

Bucky feels a surge of empathy as he listens to your story. If he had a family like yours, he knows he would be grateful beyond measure.

"Bucky, could you help us?" you ask, your voice tinged with desperation.

Bucky tilts his head, considering your request. "How are you going to pay me?" he inquires, his tone cautious and business-like.

You're taken aback by the question, realizing you hadn't thought about it before. "I...," you falter, unsure of how to respond.

"You can't afford me," Bucky asserts bluntly, cutting off your attempt to explain.

Speechless, you struggle to find the right words. "I-I know," you stammer, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over you. "Is there anything I could do?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky remains silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he considers your offer.

Finally, he speaks, his voice low and measured. "Work for me," he suggests. "Read me to sleep."

"That's it?" you inquire, surprised by the simplicity of his request.

Bucky nods a hint of determination in his eyes. "That's it," he confirms.

You smile warmly at Bucky, feeling a surge of gratitude for his unexpected kindness. "I will give my best. Thank you, Bucky," you express sincerely, your voice filled with appreciation.

When Bucky sees your smile directed at him, he's taken aback. He's accustomed to seeing you with a groggy expression around him, so your genuine smile catches him off guard. It's a small gesture, but it makes him feel strangely reassured as if you're starting to trust him.

"Sister," Conroy pipes up, interrupting the moment with his childish voice.

Bucky rolls his eyes at the interruption, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

Conroy leaps toward you eagerly. "I'm full and I want to sleep. Read me a bedtime story, please," he requests, his excitement palpable.

However, before Conroy can reach you, Bucky swoops in and lifts him up. "Your sister is going to read me a bedtime story," he announces, a playful glint in his eye.

Conroy frowns in confusion. "But you're an adult. Why do you want to listen to children's stories?" he questions, his curiosity piqued.

You step in to defuse the situation, sensing the tension between the two. "Guys, calm down," you interject, your voice gentle yet firm. "I'll read it to both of you," you offer, hoping to restore peace and harmony to the moment.

As Conroy and Bucky settle into their respective armchairs, a palpable tension fills the room as they exchange glares.

You clear your throat, breaking the silence, and begin to read another bedtime story, hoping to diffuse the tension between the two.

"Once upon a time, there lived a mischievous squirrel named Sammy in a magical forest far, far away. Sammy was known throughout the forest for his clever tricks and daring escapades. Sammy's adventures took him to every corner of the forest, from the tallest treetops to the deepest, darkest caves. Along the way, he encountered many colorful characters, including wise old owls, friendly rabbits, and even a grumpy bear with a heart of gold-."

As you reach the story's climax, you notice their eyelids drooping, and before long, they both drift off into a peaceful sleep.

The soothing cadence of your voice coupled with the enchanting tale seems to be lulling them into a peaceful slumber.

You smile softly to yourself, feeling a sense of accomplishment as you witness the calming effect your storytelling has on them.

With each passing moment, their breathing becomes more rhythmic, and their bodies relax into the comfortable armchairs.

You quietly close the book, careful not to disturb their rest, and bask in the serene atmosphere of the room.

********

The next morning, Bucky wakes up feeling refreshed.

As he rises from his chair, he notices that Conroy is still sound asleep. Leaning down, Bucky can't help but admire the child's peaceful expression and chubby cheeks, finding him unexpectedly endearing. However, he knows all too well that Conroy's innocent appearance belies a sharp tongue that can test even Bucky's patience.

The aroma of something sweet wafts through the air, drawing Bucky's attention to the kitchen. Surprised, he finds you cooking pancakes—a sight he never expected, as he rarely sees anyone use the kitchen, let alone cook.

"Morning," you greet, turning off the stove and wiping your hands on your apron as you acknowledge Bucky's presence.

Bucky squints slightly against the brightness of the morning light streaming into the kitchen. The room seems to radiate with a warm and inviting atmosphere that he's not accustomed to experiencing.

"Uhm, morning," Bucky responds, still adjusting to the unexpected scene.

You take a recorder out of your pocket, explaining your idea from the previous night. "I thought ahead and recorded myself reading several children's stories," you explain. "There may be times when I can't be here to read to you, so this way, you'll always have something to listen to."

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, impressed by your foresight. "Thank you," he murmurs sincerely.

"You want to try listening to it?" you offer, extending the recorder and a pair of earphones to Bucky. "Let me know if it's not good."

"Sure," Bucky replies, accepting your earphones and recorder. With a nod of appreciation, he puts on the earphones and presses the play button, eager to hear your recorded stories.

As Bucky listens to the recorded stories, he notices something unexpected—the faint sound of your breath in the background, almost as if you're beside him.

Intrigued by the intimate detail, Bucky finds himself drawn into the story, eager to experience the magic of your storytelling once again.

"Once upon a time, in a land of eternal winter, there lived a lonely snowflake named Frosty," the recording begins, your voice gentle and soothing. "Frosty longed for companionship, but no matter where he drifted, he found himself alone in the icy wilderness,-."

As Bucky continues to listen to your story, he finds himself growing increasingly relaxed. The soothing cadence of your voice and the gentle rhythm of your breath lull him into a state of tranquility.

Suddenly, his eyelids begin to droop, and he feels an overwhelming heaviness wash over his body. Before he can even register what's happening, his vision blurs, and everything fades into darkness.

You watch in shock as Bucky loses balance, the earphones slipping from his ears. "Bucky!" you exclaim, rushing to his side.

In just two short minutes of listening to your story, Bucky's body dropped to the floor.

Concerned, you gently shake him, trying to rouse him from his sudden slumber. "Bucky, wake up!" you urge, but he remains unresponsive.

Panicked, you quickly check his pulse and breathing, relieved to find that he's still alive, albeit deeply asleep.

As you try to process what just happened, you can't help but wonder—did your story really have that much of an impact on him, or is there something else going on with Bucky's health?

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alessiathepirate · 11 months ago

Text

December 25

Prompt: Christmas party. / Mistletoe.

Fast and Furious: Deckard Shaw x fem!reader

•••

If Magdalene Shaw wanted you around for Christmas, then you most definitely were around for Christmas. It didn't matter that you had somewhere else to be or something else to do. What she said was more important and serious than the Bible itself.

Even for her kids. Especially for her kids.

Sometimes she wondered how their mother bought their affection and company. Maybe they found her scary when disappointed. Or she simply won them over with fake tears.

For Deckard it was most definitely the fake tears.

Sometimes she even laughed how easily Magdalene managed to get what she wants from them. There were times when they smiled at the other when Deckard couldn't see, and they quietly giggled when he realized his mother was playing around to get what she wants from him.

She actually liked Magdalene Shaw. She respected her too. However it was her turn to be left in the dark. Because no matter how clever the woman was, she most definitely didn't know that she was dating his son behind her back.

Not like it was supposed to be a top secret. No, both her and Deckard loved the woman, they just knew neither of them is mentally ready to take in her overbearing reaction. Or Hattie's. Or Owen's...

So they just decided to stay in the dark.

The Shaw Christmas party was a success. Of course it was. It didn't only have everything one might need, but it had a surprisingly pleasant mood too, the kind that meant none of the siblings were bickering. She had the idea that their mother talked to them beforehand.

"Are you enjoying yourself dear?"

She looked up, only to see Magdalene, who stood next to her armchair and looked down at her with a smile. She purposefully chose to sit there, in a corner with Hattie and Owen so she wouldn't have to introduce herself to every person she hadn't met yet.

"Of course." she smiled. "It's a wonderful party."

"See, that's why I like you." her hand touched her shoulder in comfort, yet that was the first time she felt like the woman knows something she doesn't.

She looked at Hattie for some support, but she only tilted her head discreetely as a no and Owen only shrugged when his mother couldn't see it.

She turned back toward Magdalene and smiled too. "Although your kids are acting a bit too nice for my liking, I was hoping for some fun."

That 'fun' meant shooting someone in the head or driving through the streets in a car with no car doors. Still, she prefered that over their nice behaviour at a Christmas party.

"As long as it's after the party, I'm not against it." her hand finally disappeared and she felt like she can breath again.

"That's what she promised to us too." Hattie said as she smiled and she did too. They had a nice friendship going on which meant 'if you want to leave I do too'.

"I'm really sorry to disturb you dear, but would you get some ice from the kitchen? I'm afraid one of our guest got into a nasty fight."

"And we are the ones who have to behave." Owen spoke up before she could, but he shut his mouth as soon as his mother gave her the look.

"Sure, I'll do it." she stood up after she made sure her dress looked nice. "See you in a sec."

The Shaws had many apartments all around the world and each and every one of them felt like a labyrinth - especially if it was full of people. She gently squeezed through them - almost stopping when she heard some of them talk about dealing cars - and finally reached the kitchen.

It was a big, dark and empty square, the one where she liked to hide when people became too much. She didn't bother with the lights, knowing the light source from the hall was enough. She quickly found the freezer and opened it, then she started to look for the ice.

It was already in her hands when the quiet sound of careful footsteps hit her ear and she grabbed onto the ice firmer as she turned around, one arm raised to smack the person in the face with the thing.

Her arm, however, was luckily caught. She would've felt extremely guilty to stare at Deckard's bruised face when they were alone.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" she cursed as she looked at him, her mind proceeding who she's seeing. "I almost hit you with the fucking ice!"

"You wouldn't have." Deckard smiled and she almost did too.

"I could have." she answered as she freed her arm from his grip, even though it felt really nice. "Where were you all night anyway?"

"Mom put me on firearm duty." he explained. "Someone might have a gun."

"Well do they?" she asked with a confused expression.

"Obviously." he smirked. "But so do we."

She turned to close the freezer and put the ice pack in her other hand.

"Merry Christmas by the way. I didn't have the chance to tell you that yet." her features turned calm and soft, just like it always happened around him.

"Did you get me a present?" his eyes were playful.

"Depends." she played around. "Did you get me one?"

"I might have."

She leaned in first, but he was the one who kissed her. She sighed as she kissed him back. It was the first kiss of the day.

"You look great in that dress by the way. It fits you well."

She slightly blushed at that.

"Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

"Why are you in the kitchen?" he asked, looking like someone who really doesn't know.

"Your mom sent me here for some ice." she explained. "So we should get going before it completely melts."

"Let's get going then."

Deckard gently held her hand as they reached the hall, intertwining their fingers and holding her firmly, not wanting to lose her in the crowd. She liked it when Deckard was leading her, looking out for her even in the safest moments. She appreciated that a lot. She loved that about him a lot.

"Will you come over when the party's over?" she asked, trying to speak through the chatter and the music.

"Of course sweetheart." he answered as he pushed a man aside who was standing too close for his liking. "That was my plan from the beginning. Besides, I really bought you a present."

She blushed, but luckily this time he didn't have a single chance to see it. They reached the corner where she sat before anyway and she felt strange as she realized Deckard kept his eyes on her throughout the whole evening.

"Here it is." she said as she gave the ice pack to Magdalene.

The woman took it, but her eyes never left hers.

She felt Deckard's hold on her hand tighten and she realized that their cover was blown. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing really came out. She could see Hattie and Owen changing looks in the corner, then they took a sip from their wine.

"Thank you dear." Magdalene said, her face staying serious. She then turned to look at his son. "Don't you fucking lie to me ever again." her features then softened fast, clearly stating that she wasn't really angry. "Mistletoe by the way." she pointed out the thing above them and left.

She could hear Hattie's laugh from the corner.

#alessiathepirate's christmas special #fast and the furious x reader #deckard shaw x reader #deckard shaw x fem!reader

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libraryofloveletters · 11 months ago

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The Christmas Market

Pierre Gasly x Fem!Reader

Warnings: home sick reader, pierre is trying his best, christmas markets, cheesy couple stuff, pierre is kinda sweet when he's not being an ick, pierre can't skate for shit, cooties as these kids would say.

Word Count: 718

Author's Note: again, my charity of the month writing the man. y'all know I don't fuck with this man like that lmaooo - for @2-fast-2-curious cause this is her pookie

You were missing home quite a bit and Pierre decides to indulge in one of your favourite holiday traditions.

Home sickness was no joke and it was kicking in big time.

You lived in Milan since you had applied to go to University there. You moved during your first year and fell in love with the place and with a certain formula one driver who lived there as well.

As much as you've come to love Milan and Pierre, you always went home for the holidays. For the last three years, you were home for Christmas and in France for new years with your boyfriend, Pierre and his family.

This year was much different, your studies kept you in Milan a lot longer than expected and you would be missing out on a lot of your family traditions.

No tree decorating, no cookie decorating and no Christmas market.

Pierre being the sweet boyfriend he was, was trying his best to cheer you up as much as he could. He usually waited until a week or two before Christmas to get his Christmas tree but this year, he bought the biggest artificial tree one could find and about a million and one ornaments to see if he could improve your mood.

And for a bit, it did work. The 5 hours it took you two to put the tree together, your mood did improve but the next day, it was back to focusing on your exams and the lack of Christmas mood was apparent.

He offered to bake cookies with you but you turned down his offer; you typically baked your mom's famous and secret cookies but you didn't have the recipe, hence the secret part.

Pierre was running out of ideas but then an ad for the Christmas market popped on his Instagram.

He finds you on the couch, finally popping your laptop for the afternoon. "How about a date night?" He asks, reaching for your hand.

"Babe," you groaned, letting him pull you up. "I'm not really in the mood."

"C'mon, some fresh air will make you feel better. You've been glued to your laptop all day."

"Fine," you gave in, the two of you getting ready. Pierre didn't give you any idea as to where you're going other than to dress warm. You figured you'd probably walk to dinner or something but you weren't - he opened the car door for you, driving to some undisclosed location.

To be honest, you weren't paying much attention to him or where he was going until the car came to a full stop, Pierre turning off the engine. You finally look up from your phone to see the sign in front of you; Christmas market.

"You didn't," you turn to face your boyfriend.

The man smiles, nodding. "I know it's not the one at home but, it's still a Christmas market so I hope that counts."

"Of course it does!" You reach over to give him a kiss, your hand resting on his jaw softly.

Pierre gets out of the car and you mirror his action, the two of you holding hands as you walk into the market.

The Christmas trees planted around the place, the lights wrapped around the roof of each stand, the sound of laughter and cheesy Christmas music filled your ears, as did the smell of gingerbread. You two decided to make the rounds.

You walked through the market, taking in all of it. Pierre let you drag him to every booth, buying you whatever your heart desired, even the ridiculously overpriced hot cocoa. You took photos as you went, stopping in at the photo booth; the classic ones of you two smiling, giggling and kissing with the stamp at the bottom - Milan Christmas Market 2023.

The night wrapped up with you attempting to teach Pierre how to skate. His hands in yours as you carefully took him around the skating rink.

He falls against you, you're pinned between him - a man struggling to hold himself up- and the barricade. "Did you have a good time?" He asks and you nod, a smile on your face.

"I did. Thank you for this, baby."

Pierre leans in, almost slipping but he catches himself as he kisses you. There's a little boy skating by, doing better than Pierre you might add, who makes a face at you two kissing. "Ew!"

You and Pierre can't help your laughter.

#holiday extravaganza blurbs 23 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 blurb #f1 imagine

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thisapplepielife · 5 months ago

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Written for the @corrodedcoffinfest June warm-up round.

Eddie Munson's Corroded Coffin Celebrity Full Metal Upside Down Memorial Awareness Pro-Am Fun Run 5K Race For Hunger

"How did we get roped into this again? Who do I need to kill?" Goodie asks, lifting his leg into the air by the leg of his shorts, until Jeff catches his heel, resting it on his thigh as he ties Goodie's running shoe for him.

"It's for charity," Jeff answers, cinching the laces, tying them.

Eddie's lacing up his own shoes, and he definitely shouldn't have bought new ones for this. Rookie mistake. He'd be better off with his vintage Reebok's that he wore into the ground.

He stands up and looks at himself in the mirror. He looks ridiculous. He doesn't know the last time his legs have seen sunshine, and they look like little chicken legs, under his baggy, black shorts.

This was a mistake.

Gareth is stretching, a foot up on the arm of the hotel couch, and Steve is all but laying over his back, pressing against him.

"Um, do we need to let you two get a room?" Eddie asks.

Steve chuckles, and Eddie loves the sound.

"You just want me to do this to you instead," Steve snarks.

"Well, yeah. Fucking, duh. Always, forever," Eddie answers.

"No, we don't have time for that," Jeff answers, looking at his watch, "it's twenty-three minutes until we have to be at the starting line."

"This is my worst nightmare," Goodie bemoans, "It's high school PE all over again."

And Eddie grins at him, because he feels exactly the same way. Goodie's hit it right on the goddamn nose.

"Agreed," Eddie says, "and look, Steve Harrington is even here, bullying us freaks."

"I didn't bully you. You were the bully," Steve banters back, because they've had this disagreement a thousand times.

"Agree to disagree," Eddie says, playing his part. Then he looks at Steve's back, still plastered to Gareth in a way that Eddie would definitely be jealous about if he were doing it to anybody else. "How much money is this raising, again?" Eddie asks, because that's the only thing that's gonna get him out of this room and onto the street.

Steve straightens back up, "With what you've matched? Nearly fifty thousand dollars."

"That'll feed a lot of kids," Eddie says.

"It will. Your fans have really come through."

"They just want to see us in shorts," Eddie mutters.

"Well, that's at least ten thousand of it, yes," Steve says, and Eddie's pretty sure he's serious.

"Ugh, I'm gonna die," Eddie whines.

"You won't. It's a 5K, not a marathon. Over and done in under an hour, I promise, even if you walk the whole thing."

"I'm definitely walking the whole thing," Eddie insists.

"And that's fine," Steve tells him, again. "But I'm not."

"And that's fine," Eddie mocks.

"At least the route's along the ocean, so your casual stroll will have a view," Steve says, goading him.

He's still not running. He's walking.

Eddie doesn't walk. He's too competitive, and he should have realized that long ago. Goddamn Steve for getting him into this.

So, when Steve, Jeff, Gareth and Goodie take off, Eddie matches them. So much for not conforming. He's embarrassed for himself right now.

Steve pulls away quickly, getting further and further ahead, and then Jeff and Gareth settle in beside each other, which leaves him and Goodie.

He thinks as soon as Steve totally disappears, Goodie will walk, and then he can walk, too.

Goodie doesn't walk. He's not fast, but he's in shape. They all are. Playing live shows like they do, even now in their forties, is more cardio than they even realize. So, they jog along together, and aren't even last.

"Are you dying?" Eddie asks, glancing over at Goodie.

"No," Goodie answers.

"Me either," Eddie admits.

Eddie was pretty sure he was gonna be last, and he's a little disappointed he isn't.

Steve is at the finish line, and doesn't even look like he's broken a sweat. Not a hair out of place, that asshole.

Eddie's drenched, and he feels like he just played a three-hour set in the sun. He and Goodie didn't finish fast, but they finished strong. And Eddie only stopped running to take a few pictures with fans along the route, as happy to get the breather as the fans were to get the picture, he thinks.

The volunteer hands the finisher's medal to Steve, letting him do the honors, and Eddie sees how hard Steve is smiling as he holds it up to put on Eddie. So, Eddie smiles back and leans his head forward to accept it, as cameras click all around. It's embarrassing, but he turns on the stage charm, bows and shows it off. Kisses Steve, lets them take pictures that all the tabloids will run with their own spin. Some good, some bad.

Then, he poses with the rest of the band with the comically large check made out to the children's charity of their choice.

It was worth it, he guesses.

"Rub my calves," Eddie demands, putting his legs in Steve's lap back in the hotel room, freshly showered, and already feeling more human again.

Steve laughs, but he digs his fingers into the meat of Eddie's muscles, and they are a little sore. Goddamn new shoes.

"I'm proud of you, you know," Steve says.

"Yeah, yeah," Eddie answers, brushing him off.

"No, I am. I always am, but extra today. I know this isn't your thing, but you did a lot of good today. You all did."

"Yeah, well…"

"And got some great press," Steve adds, and now he's talking.

"Did I look good?" Eddie asks, preening, flipping his hair.

Steve grins, "So good."

And then Steve moves, lowering Eddie's legs back to the couch, settling on top of Eddie, covering Eddie's body with his own.

He presses his lips to Eddie's, then pulls back and looks in his eyes, "This mean you're gonna start going on my morning runs with me?"

And Eddie feels no remorse, as he laughs right in his husband's face.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

Notes: Obviously the title comes from the Michael Scott's Dunder Mifflin... race name from the Fun Run episode of The Office.

#corrodedcoffinfest #june warm-up: band on the run #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth stranger things #steddie fic #corroded coffin fic #jeff stranger things #goodie (unnamed freak) stranger things #freak stranger things #ccf warm up: band on the run #thisapplepielife: corrodedcoffinfest #thisapplepielife: short fic

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callmewrinkles3 · 10 months ago

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When Emma Falls in Love - DR3 x Fem!OC

Summary: Christmas involves the same thing every year for Em. A week in Liverpool, formal clothing, and returning to her apartment to shower and have a bottle of wine to forget how bad it was. But this year she's spending it in Australia with Dan and his family. No big deal.

Words: 11.4k

Warnings: Mentions of past bad relationships, mentions of cheating, mentions of toxic family relationships. Panic attacks, worry, mentions of sex (but nothing explicit) and mentions of sex toys.

AN: HEEEEEEEYYYYYYYY remember us? First things first - apologies for how long this took. The plan was Christmas, but life has been ridiculous and too busy and we just apologise. Thank you for still being here and enjoying reading more about Em and Dan!

December 2018

When she was growing up, Em never kept a diary. She was the odd one out for many reasons in primary school, that was just one of them. She was too afraid of her mother finding it when “cleaning”, reading what was on her mind and telling her to stop. She hadn’t started it as a kid, and it didn’t begin when she was an adult either. But if she did have one, the first words on the page for December 22, 2018, would have been "I think I'm in love with Dan." And to say "I think" would have been a blatant lie because she knew.

She knew that night in the bar for his birthday that she was going to fall for him. She knew in Philadelphia as she sang that she only bought that dress for him to take off. She knew in Austin when he kissed her in front of another woman.

That morning in July when she woke up from one of the greatest nights of sleep in her life with Dan’s arms around her and his snoring lulling her back to sleep like white noise. Every single time he let Blake out of their shared taxi first and circled the block to come into hers when he got back from travelling. The way he never arrived home without a bouquet of flowers because she’d once said she never thought she could buy herself some. But that afternoon in Perth she couldn’t hide from the realisation anymore.

She’d been working in the early afternoon after she made lunch for the two of them and Isaac, coming out to find her boys napping on the couch. The plan had been for them to watch a film while they waited for her but toddlers were not known for their patience. She couldn’t blame Isaac for sleeping, and once Dan got comfy he could nod off anywhere.

The two of them had been up early that morning picking Isaac up for a day out and a sleepover to let Michelle finish getting ready for Christmas. Once they made it back to the farm it was running around and playing at the pool with a stop for lunch. Em had prepped sandwiches for their lunch before disappearing to work for a few hours so she didn’t fall even further behind. And now they were fast asleep, blond curls against Dan’s off season stubble.

The craving to curl up on the couch and cuddle into them was overwhelming. There was nothing else she wanted at that moment, just hug them and kiss Dan and stay there forever. But she couldn’t.

Yes, she was Auntie Emmy to Isaac - a fact he’d announced to them that morning running to greet her with chubby cheeks and “ANNIE EMMYYYYYYYY” - but Auntie Emmy was Uncle Dan’s friend. And nothing else.

She was just his friend. Even though she was the only one sleeping in his bed, even when he was basically living in her crappy flat in London. Even when it was her name he groaned out when they were together as he pulled her close. And that was why she couldn’t admit it to him. Admitting it to herself felt nearly too much.

It hurt. Oh it ached. But it was better to hurt a little bit and enjoy getting to have Danny in the way that so many people didn’t know Daniel Ricciardo, than say how she felt and break the spell. She could suck it up and bury her feelings and stay by his side as his best friend. If she didn’t say it out loud then it wasn’t real and if it wasn’t real then it couldn’t hurt her badly.

And she couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t see his face fall, couldn’t hear “we said we were just friends, nothing more.”. Couldn’t bear to have to leave people who for the first time in her life seemed to actually like her because she’d ruined it. So she’d stay quiet and get to have Christmas with people who seemed to want her there. She’d enjoy summer in December and have those weeks. Especially if it meant she got time with Isaac.

Em had fallen in love with him the first time she met him in real life in Abu Dhabi, and the feeling was mutual. She could count how many times she’d seen him in person on both hands, but he was as crazy about her as she was about him. His cheeky smile warmed up her heart. The way he ran to give her a hug after the first time they met was one of her favourite things in the world. How he reached out to her so she would hold him during the insanity of that first weekend. But it was the way that he was so much like Dan that made her heart grow ten sizes.

Physically they didn’t look alike apart from those curls they’d all inherited from Grace, but their personalities were identical. Dan joked it was why Isaac liked spending so much time with her, but she smiled and brushed it off. For her own sanity she couldn’t let that get into her head. She couldn’t do it. Not when whatever they were had an expiration date and she didn’t know how long it would last.

All of that combined meant she couldn’t resist watching them for an extra couple of moments, enjoying how relaxed they were snoozing together. She took a photo of them with her phone to secure the memory forever. She wasn’t sure what caused him to stir, if it was the small noise from the camera or if it was her moving, but Dan opened his eyes slowly and focused on her. A smile began to go across his face.

“Wanna join us? We can stay like this for a while.”

She desperately wanted to say yes. She wanted to lie down next to Dan and fall asleep with his arm around her. But she shouldn’t and she couldn’t. Anything that wasn’t at least platonic seeming had to stay just them. Sure Dan had put an arm around her shoulder or waist with his parents, but not with Isaac. She didn’t want that with him. He was too small and she didn’t want to confuse him with acting like a couple when they weren’t. If she couldn’t explain what was happening to herself then she couldn’t to him.

“I’m gonna get a start on dinner,” Em whispered, blurting out the first excuse she could think of. “Is pasta ok?”

The moment the words left her lips, she made her one fatal mistake. Kissing the top of Dan's head and then Isaac's cheek. It was supposed to be the briefest moment, a peck and then go to the kitchen. But the moment she leaned down to kiss Isaac's head his litttle hand reached out for her, not letting go. He didn't say anything, just grumbled and rubbed his head against Dan's chest before settling back down.

"I think you have to stay for a while. C'mon." He shifted slightly to let her slip beside them, settling down. "I know what you're thinking. It's fine."

"Danny-"

"I promise. It's fine." She should have stood straight up and headed out. Before she could even think about moving away Isaac woke up enough to smile at her, moving across to have half his body over Em, half on Dan. Then she was definitely not going anywhere, not when his tiny hand clung to her shirt to hold her there.

"I always knew he'd be a heartbreaker and steal someone's girl at some point in his life. I just never imagined it'd be mine."

"He's got that Ricciardo grin and those curls, what can I say?" Dan chuckled lowly at her words, his chest shaking as he held it back.

"That's not fair, I saw you first."

"I'm not some toy, you don't need to fight him over me."

"I mean if I need to I will." It was Em's turn to keep her laughter down, swallowing it so she didn't wake the sleeping toddler.

"No, it's fine. You don't need to."

"Just had to be sure."

She really didn't mean to fall asleep. She shouldn't have, she wanted to just stay for five minutes before carefully moving Isaac across and standing up to do something. But having Dan's chest as a pillow and Isaac as a tiny weighted blanket didn't help her. Dan smelled like the shower gel they were using and home, Isaac's baby shampoo mixing and making her feel peaceful and dozing off easily.

When she opened her eyes she thought she'd find her fast asleep boys, but instead they were wide awake. The youngest was staring at the film he hadn't finished, the oldest looking straight down at her when Em looked up.

How was she not supposed to fall in love with him? That broad smile and big eyes and how was she supposed to keep it platonic when he looked at her like she hung the moon and stars every single day. He called her his moon once and the compliment made her blush for a week. It was impossible to not fall in love with him, and that was the moment she admitted it. The way he stole tiny kisses while Isaac was distracted. She was gone.

They stayed like that for the afternoon, what was supposed to be a homemade meal turning into driving out for pizza for the three of them. Isaac stayed on her hip until they got him into a highchair, laughing and enjoying his food. She felt at home and happy and was so glad she was there.

It was why she said yes when he asked her what she was doing for Christmas and if she wanted to come to Australia with him. She missed him when he had a double header abroad, she couldn't imagine spending six weeks apart when he went home for Christmas. They could have done it and would have been fine. They'd done it before, but that was before feelings and sex and friends with benefits was added to the mix they had going on.

Em missed him back when they just texted and had a couple of calls, so she had to say yes. But it was terrifying to get on that plane with Dan to go to Perth. It took a call from Grace insisting she wanted Em there and everyone was looking forward to seeing her to make Em feel like it was ok.

Once she made the decision to go to Australia to spend weeks there with Dan it wasn't too scary, but the fact that she was introduced to Dan's world was. Especially now that she was slowly admitting that she'd fallen in love with him. Since the start Em had tried to deny it to herself, insist that it wasn't true. That she had no feelings for him apart from friendship and being proud of him.

But that was like saying the sun wasn't going to come out the next day. On those days where Em wasn't sure about it herself, he made her sure. If she didn't know better she'd think that was his own personal mission to make her fall in love with him. There were texts, calls, facetimes when he probably didn't have time. A text telling her to open the door because she had a delivery. How could she not fall for him?

The easiest way to fall in love with him was what he did every single trip home. She'd leave a sandwich in the fridge before she went to bed, and he came back to her tiny apartment. He had his own one that he could be in, he could go back to somewhere comfy and warm rather than her tiny one bed where the heating rarely worked. But he stayed with her. He took over doing things to make her life better, buying new sheets that were more expensive than she'd ever pay because they were softer and calling the landlord to make him fix the heating after he came back from Brazil and the apartment was freezing.

She couldn't help falling deeper and deeper in love with him when he slid into bed and wrapped his arms around her, whispering how happy he was to be back home. He could have been comfortable and warm in his apartment but instead he was there with her. The chill in the air was ignored as they pulled whatever clothes were on off, Dan marking her body as his. Week after week that was exactly what happened in beds around the world as she travelled to the US and Abu Dhabi to watch him race. She was starting to believe that maybe they did belong together as night after night they got into the same bed, whispering sweet nothings and bringing each other pleasure before curling up to sleep.

It's what happened at the farm when they were alone. Officially Em had a guest room to herself, but Dan's room became theirs. She spent so much of her days stepping outside of her comfort zone, it was exhausting and made her stomach ball up, but being with him was easy. Waking up with his arms around her was perfect. Getting into bed with him every night felt normal. It was terrifying and normal and brilliant. It was easy for her once she got over her worries, especially after that day with Isaac on the couch. His tiny hand over her chest became the reminder that what she thought would be a bad day wasn't so bad. It's part of why she wished Isaac could have been there the night she met Dan's friends.

She knew what coming to Australia when Dan went home for the winter break involved. And when she was invited she didn't even think about it, just went for it. She knew she was going to be introduced to his favourite places in his hometown, spending most of their nights out on the farm, getting to be around his family, and some nights out with his home friends to meet them. She could excuse herself once or twice from nights out because she was never a big fan of it, but she could let the social butterfly she was accompanying go out to hang out with people. He didn't get to see his friends for most of the year, she was more than happy to stay home with her huge to read list on her kindle or a good movie.

But Dan wanted her there. He wanted to spend time with her and his friends and have them all together, and she couldn't say no to those big brown eyes. Spending time with his family was easy, she knew most of them and those she didn't know at least knew of him. But the bigger issue was when she met his friends.

It was supposed to be easy. A get together with his mates so they could catch up and everyone who lived in Perth could finally meet the famous Em. There was just one problem.

Em wasn't good with people.

It wasn't that people didn't like her, it wasn't even that she didn't like people, it was that whenever she was around people she got tired quickly and couldn't deal with them for too long. Dan was one of the rare people she didn't hate being around for more than a few minutes. He'd promised it wouldn't be anything fancy or crazy, that she didn't need to stress about it, but she still worried.

She liked to think that it would have been different if they met somewhere else. In a bar or club where she could have made an excuse to go outside for a few minutes, be somewhere neutral. But meeting at the farm was somehow worse. Dan had told her to stay by his side and she did, but she felt like she was being a bother. He told her that she didn't need to do anything, she was a guest too, but her mother's words kept going around in her head. She should be helpful, she should be useful, she should be this that and the other. If she didn't help at gatherings then what use was she? Sitting next to Dan cutting tomatoes and onions for the burgers wasn't enough.

She shouldn't feel like she was suffocating when she was with his friends. They all seemed lovely, the guys who'd known Dan since he was a kid and told her stories about what he got up to in school, girlfriends who were genuinely sweet asking her about England and her work. But it felt like it was too much. The flickering light from the firepit and the music playing and the voices made her brain go a million miles an hour, all she wanted was to get out of there. Curl up and bed and read a book. She stood there smiling and she couldn't even lean against Dan because they were supposed to be just friends. They were friends. It's how he introduced her. Em, his friend from England. Not Emmy, that was only for him, but Em.

Nobody there had any idea that as soon as the parties and dinners were over he snuck into her bed. That when he got back from being all around the world he came to her home. She was just Em and she had no idea what she was doing there. She didn't know what they were but just friends didn't cut it anymore, and even being outside on the farm it felt like she couldn't get a deep breath into her lungs. The air slowly left her body and she could barely get it in.

She wouldn't forgive herself if she ruined Dan's night. He was so happy there, tanned and grinning as he talked to people. Em decided another beer to replace her empty one and a deep breath in the kitchen would help. Just two minutes away from the crowd. She went in, grabbed two bottles from the fridge and took a few deep breaths to calm herself down. She could do it. She'd be fine and she'd get through the rest of this night. She could do it.

"Thought you were into blondes, mate," it was clear as a bell even through the noise, a dagger hitting into Em's chest. Did she seem like just a girl?

"Shut up, it's not like that." She knew they were just friends. But hearing it like that was different. It was the straw that broke the camel's back and she didn't remember the last time she wanted to cry that badly. She wanted the ground to open up beneath her and just swallow her whole so she can hide but she wasn’t lucky enough. She blinked back tears, ignoring the knot growing in her stomach and the anxiety seeping into every pore. Em’s heart raced and she could hear the whooshing sound in her eardrums. Why was she there? The questions bubbled through her brain but that was the loudest. Why did Dan invite her there? Why was she there? Why did he want her to be in Perth?

Em couldn’t stay there anymore. If she stayed out with everyone she’d break down and start crying and the last thing Dan needed was her dramatics. She didn’t want to ruin the reunion and the good time he was having. So she took a deep breath, had a sip of her beer, and pretended she heard nothing. She just needed to keep it together for long enough so Dan didn’t suspect anything. She could smile and nod as if she didn’t care about what his mates said.

All she needed to do was pretend that she was fine, and then she could run back inside and be alone. She felt terrible just thinking about it. She couldn't do one fucking thing right and be a normal person for one night and have a normal night. It just made her feel awful for Dan because he had done everything to make her comfortable. Not just that night, but he'd changed his home so she felt at home. He insisted he was in charge of the burgers so that he could make one that was cooked the way she enjoyed it - a squirt of ketchup, one slice of cheese, wrapped in two napkins so her fingers didn't get greasy. He got her a Coke Zero or a lemon San Pellegrino so she had options when she didn't want a beer. There were even some of her favourite songs on his playlist for that night, Paramore playing out over the group. He did every single thing right. But she was ruining it all.

Em tried hiding how she was feeling but it was useless. The second she was back at Dan's side he knew something was wrong. The question was quiet, asking if she was ok, but her nod was too fast and she could tell that he didn't quite believe her. Dan's brown eyes stayed on her as she tipped the rest of her bottle back.

"Mind if I head to bed?" She was proud of how even her voice sounded.

"You sure you're ok? What's up?"

"I'm fine, just jetlagged and tired still. I'll be fine."

"See you in a lil bit?" She didn't answer him, making excuses and quick comments so she didn't start crying around new to her people. It was saying how lovely it was to meet them and saying they'd get coffee or meet before she went back to England. She was so polite and correct she almost sounded like her mother and it made her want to vomit. A final quick squeeze on Dan's shoulder and she was gone.

As soon as she was in the house she just had to do a quick trip to the bathroom, change her clothes, and go into bed. But she couldn’t go into the room she'd been sleeping in. That was Dan's bedroom and she couldn't switch the light on or people would see. So in the fading light of dusk she grabbed her pjs, the book she'd been reading, and the bottle of water she kept on her nightstand. From there she went to the guest room that was supposed to be her room. Dan had mentioned it'd be her room in Abu Dhabi, just across from his. That first night he'd insisted she didn't have to sleep there if she didn't want to and they'd ended up in his bedroom and Em didn't want to leave. But now she had to be in her own room. It'd be fine.

The last thing she wanted anyone to see was her crying. Somehow she got the door of the guest room closed without letting out a sob, panic growing in her chest. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She shouldn't be crying. She had no reason to cry. She knew what she was doing.

Her back slid against the door as she ended up on the ground. Her sobs turned to gasps as she struggled to get a deep breath, thoughts burning her head. She wanted to be curled up in the bed that she'd spent the last week sleeping in. She wanted Dan's arm around her, wanted to sit on his lap and sip from his beer bottle. Wanted to forget that the night had even happened. That the man who'd been sharing her bed for the last six months preferred blondes. That the man who she'd been falling in love with might not feel the same way, and they'd agreed they were just friends and said that they weren't going to break the rules and love each other but she had. She wanted her brain to shut up with the "why the fuck does he sleep with me then" that was filling her mind with doubts.

But more than all of that she wished she was brave enough to leave. Pack her bag and go to the airport and fly back to London. Because Dan deserved so much better than anything she could offer. He deserved a beautiful blonde woman who didn't freak out during a party and could afford to rent an apartment with working heating and didn't run away to hide and cry because she couldn't cope. Of course he wouldn't pick her.

But she could barely move. Somehow she managed to stand up once she'd caught her breath, pulling on her tshirt and leggings to sleep in. From there she made it to the bed, lying and pulling up the blanket to try cocoon herself as her tears kept falling. All she wanted was for Dan to magically appear and hold her to stop her chest from feeling so tight. A hug from Dan was magical, it'd make the pressure go away in no time. But he was with his friends and she didn't blame him. She was his friend. They were just friends and she had absolutely no right to be upset about it, but it hurt.

She wasn't planning on getting a lot of sleep that night. The awful feeling in her chest wasn't getting any better, her heart was still racing, and her head ached thanks to crying so much. Finally the tears stopped and she turned onto her side in the too big bed.

A knock on the door made her close her eyes and force her breathing to even out. She didn't want Dan to see her like that. She couldn't explain what she was feeling, she couldn't start rambling about it because then she'd have to admit how she felt and that wasn't going to happen. She couldn't admit that she'd broken every rule they'd come up with and fallen in love with him. She couldn't lose him. She couldn't lose his friendship and what they had so she had to stay quiet.

"Emmy? You awake?" Em should have known he wouldn't leave even if she didn't answer, listening as he padded around to her side of the bed and knelt down, his thumb brushing the still damp skin on her cheek.

The second Emmy squeezed his shoulder as she said she was still jetlagged and going to bed, Dan knew something was wrong. She hadn't been ok since she got back from the kitchen with their drinks, but watching her nod and fake smile as she went back inside felt so wrong. And then he stared at their room, waiting for a light to go on and the curtains to close. But nothing happened and it felt even worse.

He knew she wasn't a fan of big parties, his friends were more like him than her and were loud but she'd been ok. He made sure she was stuck to his side for the evening, she smiled when he handed her a perfectly wrapped burger made just the way she liked them. Dan knew it wasn't easy for her, she'd told him that she found big groups hard to deal with. She was the dictionary definition of an introvert who preferred to sit with a book in silence rather than be surrounded by loud people. But she was fine.

He'd asked a couple of times, not wanting to annoy her by constantly thinking something was wrong. He'd offered if she wanted to go inside and hide out for a while he'd make excuses but she insisted she was fine. Emmy ate her burger and snacked on some chips while chatting with his mates. He heard her laugh and one of the lads made a comment about how Dan kept staring at her. He was happy.

And Em was fine until she'd leaned over to offer to get him another beer when she was getting hers. He knew she heard what Mark said, his quip about blondes. The shut up didn't go fast enough and she'd been close enough to hear. She came back looking like someone had punched her in the stomach, big eyes sad even under her fake smile. There was nothing Dan could do to make her feel better.

What he wanted to do was pull her onto his lap, arms around her waist as they shared a drink. He'd tell her that yeah he'd slept with blondes before, dated some as well, but he was hers. He was so fucking crazy about her it was insane. Dan was absolutely in love with her, and terrified to say it because she could do so much better than him. They'd promised they'd stay friends, falling in love wasn't on the list.

But he couldn't even describe how much he loved her. He loved her long brown hair, the way it fell down her shoulders and back. He loved standing behind her and brushing it out to apologise for the mess he'd made it by wrapping it around his hand and pulling her hair the way that made her groan in all the right ways, using it as an excuse to kiss along her neck. He loved the way she smiled at him. How she made jokes and laughed at them herself. How she wrapped her arms around him and welcomed him home. The carefully covered sandwich that waited for him.

He didn't want any blondes. He wanted his gorgeous, brunette Wrinkles, and just maybe in the future if he was lucky enough he'd get to have gorgeous little babies with her hair and eyes and personality. He'd never, ever wanted that until now. And then it felt like she was slipping through his fingers with one evening.

She finished her beer, excused herself saying something about jetlag, was sweet and polite and so un-Emmy it hurt, and whispered to him that she was going to bed. The going to bed wasn't a surprised, she was still jetlagged and had been tired before they even got to Australia. She was the first to head to bed every night anyway. But the way she did it worried him.

Even around his family she kissed his head before she left the room to go to bed. It was what they did when there was people around and they couldn't actually kiss because of the comments. She'd move his curls from his forehead and give him a quick kiss there or on his cheek, or if he was sitting she'd kiss the top of his head. When they were alone he'd go to bed with her, but if he was staying up she'd peck his lips and wait for him in bed.

There was none of that. Instead she gave him a tiny, sad smile and squeezed his shoulder. Like they were just friends. Like she didn't share his bed every night. It was like a knife in his back, a kick in the stomach. That was enough to tell him that something was very, very wrong. He didn't expect a kiss, but he never thought that would be it.

It was all his fault, and the second he realised their bedroom light wasn't going on he knew it. She was nothing like his friends, his life was so different to hers, but he wanted his people to love her. He needed them to. He was so used to the way their lives were intertwined that he didn't think. He was so excited to be home and happy to see his friends and introduce them to her that he made the wrong choice. He should have had it at some neutral place, brought her to a bar to meet everyone. The way he'd done it when she met his family, how it was easier because it was a new place for them all. But he took the party to her one safe place in a foreign country and that wasn't fair on her.

It wasn't how he imagined the night ending. All he wanted to do was hold her. That was his plan for the night. Get into bed, hug his girl, steal some kisses, and call it a night. He wasn't even thinking about sex that night, just curling up with Em. He knew she'd be too tired to do anything and he'd probably have too many beers to make it good for her. So he wasn't even going to try to make a move. He'd hold her, sleep drooling into his pillow, and not have the alarm on so he could have a chill morning with her. Dan was too used to going to bed holding his Emmy, falling asleep with her in his arms and her hand against his chest. And then she was gone and he had the biggest hole in his chest knowing he'd ruined it all.

Dan had no idea what to do. He couldn’t kick his friends off the farm telling them his girl wasn’t ok and needed him. Firstly Em wasn’t his girl, not to them. He’d said over and over that they were friends and she was visiting. Nobody truly believed him, but it was the official story. He couldn’t make them leave but his brain was screaming that he needed to go to Em right then. Something was wrong and he needed to fix it. He needed to make sure she was ok. But all he could do was wait and yawn.

"You alright, DR?” One of the guys asked him.

“Yeah, just exhausted. Nightmare of a season if I’m honest. Looking forward to next year! Maybe I’m getting too old now I’m turning 30?” It was a half joke that got a laugh from the assembled guests. Fortunately they took it for what it was and started making their excuses to leave. An hour later he watched the last people leave as he waved. Once those lights were gone from the driveway he ran back to the house as quickly as he could get in.

His heart broke as he opened the bedroom door to find the empty room in complete darkness. When he switched the light on it was even worse, Em’s belongings still there. Her pillow, the blanket she loved, her Snorlax plushie he’d brought her back from Japan, even her Kindle. Only her water bottle and the book she was reading were gone.

It was a punch in the gut to realise the only other room she could be in was his least used guest room. The fact that Emmy thought she needed to stay in another room felt wrong. His room was their room. He’d made sure to decorate it to be similar to their room in London, parcels arriving to the farm the week before they arrived. The fairy lights, the purple curtains, the scented candles, the extra soft sheets and bed linen to make her smile. It was all for them. It was to make Emmy happy and feel like she was at home because in the back of his head there was a hope that it could be their home in the future. Dan had thought it was working, but now it felt like it was falling apart.

It took a few seconds for Dan to get the courage together to knock on the spare room door. He was scared Emmy would tell him to leave, would tell him to go away. But instead there was silence. He knocked again but the same lack of answer was the response so he decided to go in.

The room was in absolute darkness apart from the faint moonlight coming through the window. It was enough that Dan could make out Em resting on the bed, blankets up to her chin. All Dan wanted to do was get into bed with her, to spoon against her and hold her close, but he knew she wouldn’t like that. So instead he walked around to her side and knelt in front of her, stroking a lock of hair falling over her cheek. He didn’t know if she was in the mood for hugs, didn’t know if she wanted anyone, so he didn’t want to do too much. He saw how her eyes were closed and could feel her damp skin under his thumb. Em’s breathing was too even, she wasn’t really asleep.

“Emmy? I know you’re awake Baby girl.” It took a moment for her eyes to open as she looked up at him.

“I was tryna sleep.”

“I know. But why aren’t you in bed?”

“I am.” Her words were short. “This is a bed.”

“It’s not our bed, Beautiful.” She was at least looking at him, but something still wasn’t right. “C’mon back to bed.”

“I’m fine, D. Go on, it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. You’ve been crying.” She looked like she was about to start crying again, Dan holding her hand and running his thumb along the back of it.

“I’m fine, Dan. I’m fine. I’m just tired, it’s been a long day. Go to bed.”

“Not without you.” He watched as her gaze softened slightly and he just wanted to kiss her to make her smile. “Can I like down here with you and give you a hug?”

“You don’t have to, Dan. We can just go to sleep.”

“But I want to. If you want me to.”

“…That’d be nice.” It took a few seconds for Em to respond and Dan was terrified she’d say no. He’d accept it, but he wouldn’t like it. He got in behind her, pulling Em against his chest. Her whole body was tense as he turned her around so they were in their usual sleeping position. She began to relax as his hand rubbed her back, Em’s head finally resting against his chest.

“You know, Snorlax is all alone in the other room. And our bed is way comfier than this one.” He kept his hand moving as she tensed up again, looking into Dan’s eyes.

“I’m too tired to move.”

“Nobody said you have to move. Trust me?” There was a nod and he pulled her over to the other side of the bed before stepping out. It was easy to pick her up and carry her out to their room, carefully depositing her back in their bed before he got in beside her. “See? Back where we belong and without you needing to move a single one of your cute toes. And back with your fluffy friend.”

It was quiet between them for a few moments, something Dan mostly expected. Whenever Em got like this she always went quiet while she thought. Finally he heard her bare whisper.

“I’m sorry I ruined your night.”

“You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for. You didn’t ruin anything, you never could. I’m sorry I invited everyone around and had them all invading your space. I shouldn’t have.”

“Dan.” She leaned up and kissed his jaw to make him smile. “It’s your house and your friends, of course you should have. It’s fine.”

“No it’s not. I should have done it differently, we should have gone somewhere else. And believe me when I tell you that you can’t ruin anything. Even if you tried to ruin something you couldn’t.”

“You’re too nice to me.” The hollow way she said it broke a little part of Dan’s heart.

“Emmy I promise. Everyone should be nice to you because you deserve it. You deserve happiness and goodness. And a whole lot of cuddles.”

“Will you cuddle me?” He couldn’t help but hold her even closer at her request.

Dan had no idea which lucky star was looking out for them but it felt like there was a whole constellation instead of just one star. He knew Em wouldn’t do it but he was ready for her to kick him out of the room. Instead he was so damn lucky that he got to hold her while she dozed asleep. He didn’t have the guts to try to explain the comment she’d overheard, he wasn’t going to push his luck, but at least he got to hold her. They could keep going from there.

—

Em couldn’t remember when she actually fell asleep. She was positive that she wouldn’t sleep at all that night, but Dan’s arms around her and his heartbeat under her ear was the best sleeping pill to ever exist. She didn’t know how he did it but he always managed to make her drift off. Even on the worst nights when her brain wouldn’t shut up he did it.

She woke up too early, the sun barely rising and illuminating the room through the blinds. She shot awake at the realisation that Dan wasn’t against her back anymore. At some point in the night she moved from Dan spooning her to her turning around and cuddling into him like she always did. Her face was buried against Dan’s chest, his arms holding her tight, and their legs tangled between each other. She raised her head slightly, Dan grumbling at her moving, and kissed his chest before going back to sleep with him.

The next time she woke up it was full morning. The sun was coming in through slits in the blinds and felt completely opposite to her emotions. She was so exhausted. Em had cried herself to exhaustion, her anxiety and nerves filling her. All she wanted to do was curl up in bed with her book and preferably with Dan cuddling her. But she was so tired she barely even noticed Dan kissing her shoulder and gently leaving her in bed. He was probably just going to the bathroom before coming back to the warmth and cuddle her.

She must have dozed off, she had no idea how long he was gone for, but she woke up to kisses on her cheek and the scratch of his off season stubble against her skin. The smile on her face was automatic. Waking up that way was one of her favourite things in the world, kisses from the man she was falling for were the best feeling and she wouldn’t change it for anything in the universe.Without even thinking Em hugged him back, almost forgetting the words from the evening before. After a horrible night all she needed was Danny. Em just wanted her human weighted blanket over her.

“I made breakfast,” Dan whispered, lips still glued to her skin. “I’ve got your coffee and toast and that jam you like. Figured you wouldn’t want to get up so it’s here whenever you want it.::

“Huh? You didn’t have to do that.” She looked up at him with disbelieving wide eyes. How could he get up to make breakfast and bring it into her after everything that happened? He did it more often than not when they were in England, but she didn’t think he’d do it that morning.

“You always say that, and I always say I do it because I wanna. Are we gonna have this conversation again?”

“No, not really. Thanks for doing it anyway.” She caught him in a kiss but as she went to move he didn’t let her.

“Don’t thank me. Especially considering it’s gonna get cold cause I’m too comfy to move.”

“Dan…”

“Five minutes.”

Like every morning when Dan asked for five minutes in bed with her, those five turned into ten, then fifteen, and then she lost count. It started with kisses against Em’s neck and her hands running along his shoulders and back. But it ended with their clothes somewhere on the floor, fingers laced and moaning each other’s name. Coffee could be reheated, toast could be eaten cold or remade. But none of it mattered when Dan was inside her, whispering how good she felt and how she was the best girl, giving her another reminder that it was still them. Inside the walls of their bedroom it was always going to be them. If that was all she was going to get, it was going to have to be enough. Dan’s groans and gasps helped silence Em’s ghosts for a little while so she took advantage.

The rest of the day involved Dan looking after her while they had a lazy day. A few small excuses, a rescheduled afternoon with his family blamed on hangovers, and they decided to either stay in the bed or on the couch and do nothing. Dan insisted it was payback for the mess of the night before. Em didn’t particularly care about his reasons as long as she was by his side.

It was how they spent their days in Perth, mostly glued to each others sides except for if Dan was going to Michael to start working on a training plan or see his friends. She started to get used to being a part of his life in Australia. Dan made sure that none of the events were at the farm, always at a restaurant or bar unless it was just his family. Every single time they went anywhere Dan whispered in her ear before they went in that she was the one in charge. Say a word and they’d be on the way home. She was trying to fit into his life just like he was trying to keep her safe, and Em couldn’t thank him enough for it.

She was starting to get used to Perth, relaxing more as she spent more time there. But as Christmas got closer she lost her chill. Two days before Christmas she went through the clothes she’d brought with her and none of them were good enough for an event. She had no idea what a Ricciardo Christmas involved, but none of her outfits were right. She had some cute summer dresses, but they were normal everyday things. She’d wear them to the beach or to lunch or maybe even to dinner with Dan’s friends, but not for a proper day. There was nothing formal like what she’d wear to her family’s Christmas dinners that met her mother’s approval.

Em knew Dan would say she looked good in anything she wore, but she was terrified. All she wanted was for them to like her. The idea that Dan’s family might not like her was scary, and she needed to make sure that she was perfect. She couldn’t ruin it over clothing. Em had hidden most of the anxiety she had around being good enough for them but that night it was too much. Her stomach was in knots and she kept fidgeting in bed. The same page was read over and over, but she had no idea what it said. She pretended it was fine until Dan kissed her cheek, pulling her book from her hands as she jumped.

“Emmy what’s wrong?”

“Huh?” She shook her head and looked over at him.

“You haven’t turned the page in like fifteen minutes, you jumped when I kissed your cheek, and your feet keep moving. You’re overthinking. So talk to me, what’s going on?”

“What if they don’t like me? I didn’t bring anything proper to wear because you kept saying it was hot and I don’t look proper. I should have brought something proper with me.”

“If who doesn’t like you?” The concern in his voice made her want to melt.

“Your family, Dan.”

“Emmy…Baby you know they lo-like you already. Mum’s the one who invited you. Isaac absolutely loves you and is obsessed with you, ‘Chelle made a joke that you’re gonna have to have him on your lap when we’re eating. You can wear any of the dresses you’ve been wearing. You look phenomenal in them. I’m gonna wear shorts so you’ll be fine. What’s this about?” Her head spun. Shorts? At Christmas? No no no. What?

“Huh? Not a suit? Or at least trousers and a shirt? You’re wearing shorts?”

“I’m not wearing a fucking suit, it’s summer. It’s way too warm to do that.”

“Oh.”

“We can head out tomorrow, find a new dress for you if you want. But if you want my opinion you should wear that little red one you have, it’s cute. You look good in all your summer dresses, but red is kinda Christmassy, right?”

“But it’s a summer one?”

“And it’s probably gonna be like thirty. What’s wrong with that?”

Her head was filled with the reminder of the year before, of her mother’s glare at the heels Em made herself wear because if she didn’t she’d barely be allowed into the party. But they were only Primark so they weren’t good enough. And she didn’t have many presents for Dan’s family and

“Emmy. What’s up? Talk to me.”

“It’s stupid. But if I didn’t have changes for the different parts of Christmas Day and if I wasn’t wearing a formal dress and heels and men weren’t in suits then it wasn’t acceptable. Plus I only have little presents not proper gifts, I don’t know what to do.”

“Calm down. It’s ok. All you need to do is turn up as yourself, that’s it. We’re having a barbecue and hanging out by the pool cause it’s way too hot for anything else, I promise. We’ll be in swimwear most of the time.”

The next morning Em was still half convinced she should try to have something proper to wear, but Dan convinced her there was no need. If she wanted to go shopping he’d drive her in and help her choose, but she didn’t have to. She didn’t need to do it so his family would like her, they’d like her anyway. Instead it was a morning of soft kisses on the couch to convince her but Em agreed to wear the red dress Dan liked so much. It had a shallow v neck, was knee length, and the fabric had a white floral pattern. Dan insisted it looked wonderful with the soft tan she’d picked up since they got into the country. Pairing it with black slip on sandals meant she’d be ok. She’d look fine.

Which led her to the freak out of how could she appear at Joe and Grace’s home to stay a few nights without bringing anything as a thank you? She couldn’t do that. So they stood in the Cole’s checkout queue for far too long on the 23rd as Dan watched her pick out her baking ingredients. By that evening there was a berry tart and a three layer chocolate cake packaged up in the fridge awaiting delivery with them. It was entirely stress baking, even Dan knew it. But he didn’t make any comments. Instead he sat on the kitchen counter and watched, stealing strawberries and taste testing her concoctions.

Christmas Eve morning arrived and Em wasn’t as nervous as she thought she’d be. The full day of Dan talking to her about how it was going to be alright and everyone was looking forward to see her had helped. There were still nerves, but she was going to spend a couple of nights with people who wanted her there, wear cute clothes, and she had host presents to give as a thanks for being invited. Really she couldn’t wait.

Plus Dan had made it his personal job to make sure that she was completely relaxed that moaning. It started with slow morning sex, Em waking up to kisses along her shoulder and wandering hands. After that a shower for the two of them and waffles with her leftover berries for breakfast really helped, Em fully relaxed. She double checked that the presents were all perfectly wrapped and packed to go, and after lunch she decided to finally start getting ready for heading over.

Dan was sitting on the side of the bed switching between watching her put makeup on and fiddling with his phone. She knew she wanted to look mostly natural but she put a red lip on to go with her dress. She was put together and ready to go. She could do this. It was going to be good. As soon as she opened her lipstick up Dan spoke.

“You know red’s a risky colour when you consider I’m definitely stealing kisses under the mistletoe.”

“The package says it’s kiss proof. You’ll be fine stealing a peck.”

“Ah my sweet, innocent Emmy. You thinkI’m gonna steal just one little peck?” He grinned and kissed her briefly but filthily, tongue slipping between her lips as Em kissed him back.

“That’s the last one, your entire family will be around.”

“And?”

“And that means your family and kids. So no.”

“We’ll find somewhere, you’re not gonna make me go a full day without a kiss.” He pursed his lips at her but Em ignored them, focusing on making sure her liner was perfect and her lipstick matched it.

“You know you’re ridiculous, right?” It was supposed to be a joke, but he got the look on his face that she knew meant he’d done something.

“Talking about ridiculous, actually-“

“Daniel what did you do?” He went to his side of the wardrobe, pulling out a red glittery box from behind some bedsheets.

“Before you say anything, I did nothing. It was all Santa. Not me.” He handed Em the box and she looked up at him carefully. They’d agreed that he wasn’t getting her a present this year because he’d paid for her flights to Austin and Perth. She never wanted him to ever think that she was friends with him because of his money. None of it mattered to her.

“Dan we said.”

“I know. But it was Santa. And he couldn’t give this to you in front of everyone so it had to be now.”

“What have you done?”

She opened the box he’d handed her carefully, lifting the lid and pulling back two layers of tissue paper to reveal the gifts. The main one was some of the most beautiful lingerie she’d ever seen in her life. It was sage green and lacy, the fabric soft against her finger. The corset wasn’t a proper one, not boned but she knew it’d look amazing. A pair of stockings at the bottom of the box made her realise how perfect it would be.

“It’s nothing. I just wanted—“

“Oh this is pretty. This is really, really pretty.” She lifted the underwear out to let the lace catch the light, admiring the design through it.

“You like it??” Dan sounded nervous.

“I really like it. I mean, I could wear it Boxing Day when we get b…what’s this?” As she moved tissue paper a smaller box she hadn’t realised was there hit off her fingers. Em picked it up and looked at the sleek silver lettering. For her pleasure. When she opened the box there was a light lavender vibrator in the black box. A charging cable was neatly beside it along with a dust bag.

“Look if you don’t wanna use it, it’s fine. If you want to pretend that you never saw it and throw it away, that’s completely fine. But we were talking and you said you’d never tried one, so I thought why not? It could be an option for you.”

Em’s cheeks were on fire as she realised that Dan was doing it for her. She’d barely made it through the awkward conversation when he’d asked her what she liked in bed. It was impossible to explain how bad her sex life had been before him. She’d never thought it was, but the way he acted when she said it was ok for him to not worry about her orgasms had soon taught her the opposite. She still remembered the way Gregory looked at her when she said she wasn’t enjoying their sex life. Now she knew he’d been with Millie that entire time when he insisted she was enjoying herself.

She forced herself out of her thoughts, staring at Dan. He looked worried and she forced a smile. His face relaxed when he realised she was ok.

“Will you use it with me?” She felt like her body was about to rip apart from shakes and nerves as she got the words out but Dan’s grin made it worth it.

“Absolutely. We can do it right now.”

“We have to go to your parents, so when we get back. And thank you. But Dan you didn’t have to. I don’t need presents, you paid for my flights. That was enough.”

“I mean I think it’s technically more for us than just you, so it’s fine. Right?” She grinned at him and leaned against his shoulder for a moment before getting up.

“Get dressed or you’ll be late.” Em started to fix her makeup as Dan looked at her.

“Can I watch you get dressed first?”

“No touching, but you can.”

“You’re killing me here, woman!” It hurt to not just sit in his lap and kiss him but they were already starting to be late. She couldn’t be late for a visit that involved staying over.

As a little nod to his request, Em slicked on a light pink lipstick instead of the red one she planned on wearing before putting on her red dress. The no touching rule was ignored the second she moved past Dan. Instead he squeezed her butt and kissed her neck before going to get changed. As promised he was casual, one of his party shirts, a pair of shorts, and Vans. Effortlessly handsome as normal and Em was jealous of how good his slightly longer curls and stubble looked.

If she was honest to herself all she wanted to do was take her dress off, get rid of the stupidly expensive shirt he was wearing and spend the day kissing him. Ask him to use the new toy sitting in the box. But they couldn’t. They needed to get going. When they were about to head out the door Dan decided to steal a kiss. It was supposed to be just one final one, but it turned into two. Then three. Then Em was pinned against the wall, hands running through Dan’s hair as his hands gripped her hips and waist. She pushed her lips to wherever she could reach, kissing up the bridge of his nose and along his cheeks.

Em would never admit it in a month of Sundays to him, but it was the right decision to not wear the red lipstick. Her whole face would be red. They needed to go. Get in the car and leave, but he was addictive. It was one of the things she adored about him and sometimes hated, how hard he was to leave behind. Every time they said it was the last one there was just one more.

She knew they wouldn’t be able to do this for another two days. The plan was to stay with Grace and Joe for Christmas Eve and Day, so they could be around all the family for the festivities before coming back on Boxing Day. Which meant no touching or kissing, and she couldn’t say no to the last make out session for 48 whole hours. She giggled at Dan’s expression as he moved away, Em using her thumb to clean the sheen of lipstick from his lip.

The one thing she didn’t expect was Dan grabbing her hand when they walked to his truck, and holding it again in between shifting gears while he was driving. It had never been a thing for them until they arrived in Perth. They’d been grocery shopping and picking up last minute presents in a crowded supermarket, everyone out to prepare for the season. Out of the blue there were fingers linking hers, Dan holding her hand while they walked through the aisles. His fingers interlaced with hers until they got to the checkout, and then went back as they walked back to the truck.

Grabbing someone’s hand for a moment in a crowded place was fine. Friends did that in busy places so they didn’t lose each other, especially when one of them was new to a place. You don’t lace your fingers with them. And Em couldn’t bring herself to let it go while she tried to ignore the size difference or how good it felt.

She really did try not to think about it, but it was impossible while his thumb rubbed lazy circles against her skin. He was soft and warm and his long fingers were one of her favourite things in the world. Sitting in the car then she could admit it to herself, she loved him. She loved the way he made her feel about herself almost as much as she loved him. And then the playlist flipped over and a grin spread across her face while she heard the opening fiddle strains of Our Song.

Em didn’t even need to say anything. All she did was look over as Dan was intently staring at the road with a grin on his face to know he did it deliberately. He’d learned pretty early on that a surefire way to cheer her up was to put Taylor on. Em could still never thank him enough for that night in Philadelphia when they’d gotten to see Our Song live without the band. It had been magical. Dan started to sing along with his exaggerated accent to make her giggle. There was nobody else for her, all she could focus on was being happy. The nerves, the worry faded away as she sung with hi, and collapsed into giggles when they finished. Em sang it looking over at him, watching how he grinned and shimmied in his seat as they drove the road back to the city instead of staying out at the countryside. All she wanted was to kiss him silly and start her Christmas Day sharing a bed with him. It’d still be worth it, but it was weird.

She may not have gotten a Christmas Eve kiss from her favourite member of the family, but Isaac wouldn’t let her go and kept kissing her cheek. He insisted on sitting next to her at dinner, Dan on Em’s other side. Dan casually ran his hand along her thigh under the table cloth as they all ate. She joked and laughed along with everyone, getting Isaac to eat his veggies thanks to the joy of stealing from Auntie Emmy’s plate and not even realising what was happening.

The best part about the meal was nobody judged her for her plate of food. Everyone else was eating the Feast of the Seven Fishes, plates piled with seafood that she didn’t particularly enjoy. Instead Grace had handed her a plain one, with pasta and sauce and cheese. She smiled when she got it, getting a “enjoy”.

There was no pressure on Em to try new things. The serving platters were spread on the table for people to take what they liked. If she wanted something and it looked good to her she could have it. If she liked it, great. If not Dan was happy to eat off her plate. Once they started talking and sharing drinks she couldn’t remember why she was so nervous. She knew the Ricciardo’s. She’d spent days with them, relaxing and watching Dan race. This was just another dinner like the ones they’d had before, except here they had a celebration as an excuse.

When dessert came around Grace brought out Em’s cake and tart, placing them in the centre of the table.

“Em made these, so I’m saving the pav for tomorrow. I hadn’t put it together and these are fresh!” Grace announced as she handed out bowls, Joe cutting into the cake first and showing the layers. It was congratulations and compliments towards Em, Isaac grinning as he ate his tart. It felt strange to get complimented for what she’d done by people. Usually she stayed quiet and in the background because she didn’t want to speak too loudly.

Even with the worry that someone would ask questions Em could feel herself relaxing beside Dan. He had his arm resting on the back of her chair, hugging around her shoulders like it was nothing. She wanted to move away but she couldn’t, Isaac on her lap before she lifted him and carried him into the living room for Christmas Eve presents. They settled in on the sofa, Isaac waking up a bit more and looking around.

Em wasn’t expecting anything. They’d welcomed her into their home, offered her somewhere to stay and it was more than she thought. But as stockings were handed out Joe offered one over to her.

“Everyone gets a stocking. We guessed on the pjs, apologies if they’re too big.” She smiled as she opened it, Isaac handed back to Michelle so Em could open it. Inside was new shorts pjs with red and black checkers, shampoo and conditioner, and a mixture of sweets. There was also a new notebook and a smooth writing pen. She couldn’t believe it. It was presents chosen specifically for her. The tiny little gold E in the bottom right corner of the notebook cover proved that for her. It was the middle of summer, she was in Australia for Christmas, and there was a group of people together who genuinely liked each other and somehow liked her. It didn’t feel real.

As midnight hit it was hugs and congratulations, everyone heading towards their rooms as they were shooed away with the promise that Santa was on his way so everyone had to go to bed. For the first time in far too long she didn’t have to suppress a shudder as someone who wasn’t Dan hugged her, smiling at Grace and Joe and returning the hug. Michelle and her husband got a one armed one that she gave willingly. It felt magical. And it wasn’t weird that the biggest hug was from Dan. She wouldn’t kiss him in front of everyone, but once everyone was going to bed he followed her into the guest room she was staying in.

“Two hands or the hug doesn’t count, right?” Em asked as he pulled her into a hug. His head leaned against hers and Em pushed her head into the spot where his neck and shoulder met. Alone she was able to run her hands along his warm back, pulling him close as Dan nodded and squeezed her waist. “That’s my huggy boy.”

As he hugged she didn’t want to let go, holding onto him in the privacy. Dan pushed kisses to the top of her head and her shoulder as much as he could. Em was just glad to have him there. He made things easier for her. She’d come with him and been so nervous but it was easy with him. Terrifying, but easy. She looked up at him and saw the smile, reaching up on her toes to kiss him.

The smile on Dan’s face as he realised what was going on and what she was doing would sustain Em forever. He was contagiously happy as they kissed, and Em was so close to telling him everything. But for the first time in years she was going to have a good Christmas and she couldn’t say no. She couldn’t ruin that on herself. So she held onto him as he kissed the top of her head and pretended everything was fine. She could do it.

“You need to go back,” Em whispered, afraid of breaking the spell between them.

“Can I stay here?”

“You need to go. What if your parents find out?”

“It’ll be fine. I’ll go back to my room early in the morning. Please?” She couldn’t resist him and he knew that.

“Fine.” It was one more kiss before she went to get her pjs on. They were curled up in bed and Em heard him barely whisper.

“Merry Christmas, Emmy.”

“Merry Christmas, Dimples. Thanks for inviting me tonight,” she murmured before pushing a kiss to his shoulder and cuddling in to sleep.

“Any time, Wrinkles. It’s gonna be the first of many.”

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