#mick writes

[arthursfuckinghat]

They really made a character like Arthur Morgan and not only gave him crippling self esteem issues, but they gave him confidence so low that he doesn't share his passions with anyone ever.

Like what do you mean Arthur loves to write but thinks he writes like a fool?

What do you mean Arthur loves to draw and is really talented but he doesn't see it that way?

What do you mean Arthur loves the smaller things in life but doesn't feel like he's deserving of good things?

What do you mean there was a whole different side to Arthur that the people he cared about rarely got to see?

What do you mean he lived and died with parts of his life tucked away tight in the pages of the journal that only one other person has ever been able to read?

What a tragedy.

[formulafics]

BEST FRIEND’S BROTHER (is the one for me)

SCENARIO: in which reader experiences nighttime anxiety, and finds solace in their best friends brother.

STARRING: GN!Reader, LN4, OP81, CL16, LH44, GR63, MV1, FC43, LS2, & MS47

WARNING(S): anxiety mentions, anxiety traits (such as fiddling or skin picking, self doubt, etc.)

AUTHORS NOTE: self indulgent fic who cheered? also maybe the start of a series; just a variety of scenarios regarding drivers as your best friends brother? 👀 And, as per always, shoutout to @renarots for always supplying the ideas when my brain refuses to 😼

Conversations with Lando have always been frequent, and you’ve always had chemistry, the two of you.

Lando knew he was too far gone when he realized he was thinking too much about the way you clearly had a crush on him, that went beyond the line of simply being amused by your infatuation with him. He knew he was no longer just basking in the confidence boost of that when he began unintentionally thinking of you in his room, on his bed, in his arms—

He’d recalled your anxiety. You mentioned it once during a late night talk with him, fueled by sleep deprivation. He could relate to it. Maybe he didn’t have the same anxiety, but his mind always raced at night, too loud for him to sleep at a decent time.

He’d often hoped you’d come to him, that maybe he could be a safe place for you. So, when you finally come knocking on his door…

He was fast asleep. His feet carry him groggily to the door, because for once, he’d been able to sleep. However, when he sees you, he’s wide awake.

Lando smiles, just slightly, then his brows furrow with concern and said smile falls when he sees your distressed expression. “What’s wrong?” Asks his raspy, sleepy voice, and your heart flutters, mind momentarily distracted from worry. However, his question then processes, and you sigh.

“Anxiety.” You respond simply, and he nods understandingly. You watch as he yawns, lifts his hands to his eyes to rub them, before he steps back to let you into his room. It’s cleaner than you’d expected, his cologne wafting faintly through the air. LED lights line his bed frame, a dim red glow surrounding his large, incredibly inviting bed. It’s nice in here, and you almost feel guilty for finding so much solace and intrigue in Flo’s brother, but you also know she’s contently asleep in her room. She needs her sleep, you decide, pushing away your guilt.

Lando lets you explore, watching from his doorway. He quietly shuts the door, then walks to his bed, plopping down on the edge.

“What’s got you worked up, then?” He asks, after a few moments of quiet, and when you turn to see his hazel eyes staring at you, sleepy and soft, but also concerned, your heart sinks in a way that’s somehow overwhelming and delightful at once.

So, you explain your anxieties. The rational and irrational fears, the thoughts that keep you up — and when he realizes you’re actively spiraling, he gets up and steps towards you, reaching out to gently brush his knuckles against your arm.

“Hey,” he hushes you, smiling warmly when you look at him. “You’re okay,” he assures you. “It’s okay to be anxious,” he adds, rubbing your arm now. “What makes it better?” he asks gently, and you huff a small laugh.

“You.” You say, a small, amused grin on your lips, as your cheeks warm. He laughs lightly, shaking his head, as he lets his fingers gently grasp your hand. “Be serious,” he retorts, though there’s a glimmer in his eyes that assures you that he liked the flirty comment.

“I don’t know what makes it better,” you say honestly, gently grabbing his hand, looking down at your hands. His fingers rub your palm, yours caressing his in return, as he slowly laces your fingers. He hums quietly, acknowledging your words.

He looks down at your hands, too, as they intertwine, and he squeezes yours, his other hand finding your free one. He guides your arms around himself, and then lets go of your hands, wrapping his own arms around your shoulders.

The sigh you let out, and the way you relax into him says it all. He smiles, resting his cheek against your hair.

“Let’s start with this, hm? If it doesn’t work, I have other ways I can help you,” he says. You both realize the unintentional suggestive tone in his words, and it makes the pair of you laugh.

Shaking your head against him, you squeeze him gently. “Yeah. Let’s start with this.”

“Worst case, there’s always Oscar.”

That’s what Hattie told you, regarding your anxiety. If all else failed, you could go to Oscar…yeah, no. You’d thought about it more than you’d like to admit.

You liked to imagine that he’d hug you and console you. You could hear his soft voice assuring you that it’s okay, that you can always come to him, but you’d also conjured up a more harsh alternative, being that he would think of you as dramatic or a burden.

Which is why you currently stand outside of his door, in the hallway, reluctant to knock on his door. He’s asleep. You’re certain. The lights are off, none seeping through the cracks of his door. It silent in his room, safe from the very faint sounds of his breathing.

The longer you stand there, the more you spiral. Tears brim your eyes, and just as you turn on your heel to walk away, you hear rustling. His feet hit the ground, and you hear the click of what you’re assuming is a lamp. You glance back, seeing a soft golden glow peek through the cracks of his door, and your heart leaps, the tears still in your eyes.

Then, his steps are quiet, but near, and before you can properly scurry off, his door opens. His eyes are squinted, brows furrowed. His hair is tousled in a way that makes you yearn to run your fingers through it. Then, you meet his gaze.

By the time you lift your hands to wipe your eyes, Oscar’s already noticed your distressed, near-tears state.

His brows furrowed even closer, and his lips part to speak. “Are you alright?” he asks lowly, accent deliciously coating his sleepy voice.

You blink a few times, before responding, your tongue spilling the words before you can stop them.

“I’m just really anxious and Hattie wouldn’t wake up, so I was gonna see if you were up, but obviously you were asleep, so I was just gonna leave, and I mean, you scare me a little bit anyways—“

“I scare you?” He asks, interrupting your ramble. He chuckles breathily, shaking his head slightly. “I’m laid back, not mean.” He says, making you laugh nervously.

Oscar just smiles, a small one, as his eyes scan your features. He sighs softly, not an irritated sigh, and looks over his shoulder, perhaps checking the time. “I can’t promise to be a good helper, but you’re welcome to my room and company anytime.”

Oscar, in that moment, knows you’re not just his sister’s friend. Not when he’s quite content with losing sleep, if it means helping you in any way.

Days are fine. Days are fun. Especially with Arthur Leclerc dragging you around Monaco, but then comes nighttime. The anxiety had been rolling in since dinner, waves of dread regarding the battle that is yourself against sleeping. You’d been sure that you’d be comfy in the Leclerc home. You’re very close with Arthur, his family is always welcoming, but as you lay on the couch in his living room, your heart thumps against your ribcage.

You stare through the sheer curtains of the window, seeing moonlight seep through them, illuminating the room just slightly. You glance at the TV — perhaps the distraction would help, but you choose against it, too worried about disturbing others.

By the time your breathing is fast, and you feel your eyes burn as they do before tears come, footsteps sound. They’re faint, soft. Then, you hear the sound of a chair on the floor, a quiet scraping sound. Then, a padding sound. *Leo.*

The small, golden-haired puppy scurries across the floor, and if that wasn’t confirmation enough as to who the other footsteps belong to, the sound of the piano in the music room is all you need.

You sit up, letting your feet hit the floor, as you lean down to pet Leo’s small head, running your fingers through his silky coat. Despite the anxiety you felt moments ago, the soothing sound of the piano, and the overwhelming cuteness of the dog under your hand is enough to distract you.

When Leo wanders to his water bowl, you watch, then look to the door of the room that you know Charles is in. You hadn’t taken him for an insomniac, but you can definitely imagine him now, with tousled hair and sleepy eyes, likely in a plain t-shirt and sweatpants, slender fingers dancing over white and black keys…

Charles is a sweetheart. He’s always been incredibly kind to you, in a way that makes you wonder if it’s special treatment. It is.

As you think about *that*, rather than your anxiety, you find yourself slowly standing, and walking to the music room. Pushing the door open, you’re met with Charles’ backside. watching as he plays the piano. It feels too domestic for a moment, too peaceful, and when he looks over his shoulder, the jolt of his body implies you’d startled him.

Laughing quietly, you smile apologetically. “I’m sorry,” You say quietly, and he shakes his head, spinning around on the bench.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks, and you tilt your head, eyes narrowing with curiosity. Maybe he just made an educated guess, but there’s a certain look on his face, like maybe he knew you were anxious— did he?

“Arthur told me,” Charles says, as if he could read your thoughts. He smiles sheepishly, avoiding your gaze. “He mentioned it, when he told us you’d be coming with him,” he clarifies, and you nod understandingly.

“What about you?” You ask, meeting his gaze. He holds yours, long lashes casting a faint shadow onto his cheeks. “I couldn’t sleep either,” he muses simply.

If only you knew he was planning this, that he was seizing an opportunity to gain your attention.

Lewis rarely stays up late. He prioritizes his performance on track, and no one works well under a lack of sleep. That being said, the man is still a night owl, so when his schedule allows, he happily stays up a bit later than usual.

It’s past midnight as he sits on the leather couch in the spacey living room, his heels propped on the coffee table, and his laptop rested on his thighs. His eyes are narrowed with concentration— and the inevitable sleepiness washing over himself — as his fingers move across the keyboard, quiet clacks sounding with each word typed out.

His airpods are in, and Roscoe is curled up next to him, sleeping contently. The house is quiet, but your mind is far from that.

You lay in the spare bedroom, eyes fixated on the ceiling, watching the fan go round-and-round. You’d always figured you’d ’grow out of’ your anxiety, and in some ways, you had learned to manage it better, but you still have those moments where it drowns you, and you can feel yourself slowly slipping into that.

Your chest is heavy, and each moment of calm in your brain is combatted by a rush of worry.

Letting out a soft breath, you sit up, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed you’d been nestled into. You slide your hoodie over your head, grab your phone, and head to the door. Maybe fresh air and a different view would help your mind relax. Everyone’s asleep, you could just have a moment to yourself, right?

Lewis may be immersed in his work, but he doesn’t miss the movement within his peripheral vision. He looks up just in time to see you scurrying into the kitchen, your sock clad feet quiet on the smooth, hardwood floor.

You hadn’t expected the man to be there, so when you made it to the bottom of the stairs, finding him on the couch, you immediately went for the kitchen. Standing in the somewhat private space, you sigh, shaking your head at the way your heart is racing for a reason unrelated to anxiety now.

Who doesn’t find Lewis Hamilton attractive, at least a little bit? You figured your “crush” on him was just because he’s conventionally attractive, but being in the same vicinity as him, you’ve always felt a pull towards him.

You grab a glass from one of the cupboards and pour yourself a glass of water, gulping it down. He wouldn’t mind if you sat with him, would he? Your brows furrow as you debate that— would he let you in his company just to avoid being seen as rude? Would that be worse than being flat out told no?

Meanwhile, Lewis is wondering if it’s his place to check in on you. He’d been amused at the way you seemed startled by his presence, but also didn’t miss the nervousness you seemed to exude.

Before he can make any further decisions, you come out of the kitchen. His brown eyes flicker to you, following your form as you walk back through the living room. He cocks a brow as you slow, as if to stop, then keep walking, then pause again at the stairs.

“I don’t bite—“

“Can I sit with you?—“

He laughs with you, as you’d both spoken at the same time. You meet his eyes, and his warm smile makes your heart skip a beat.

“You wanna sit with me?” he repeats your words, and you nod slowly. “I just…get anxious, at night, and company might help,” You explain.

Immediately, a look of understanding washes over his face, and he nods. “Come on,” he encourages gently, and he can’t help but just grin when you choose to sit on the floor in front of the couch, just next to his legs. He has to resist the urge to reach out and pet your hair, his fingers twitching over his keyboard.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks you, partially to distract his own mind. He meets your gaze as you look over your shoulder, his eyes staring into yours in a way that makes it hard to maintain eye contact.

“It’s a lot,” You muse, and he shrugs, taking out his airpods, a smile gracing his lips.

“I have time and patience.”

George is pretty serious about his schedule. From what he chooses to snack on (*cough* him asking “would an athlete snack on chocolate?” *cough*) to his workouts, and right down to his sleep schedule, he rarely goes off that.

So, George isn’t your best option, you rule out, as you sit on the air mattress next to your best friend’s bed, trying to control your shaky, uneven breathing. He’s fast asleep, probably has some busy day tomorrow, and even if he’d be polite enough to give you his time, he’d definitely steer clear of it in the future. Anyone hates the idea of being a bother to another.

Looking up above your friend’s bed, you find her asleep, curled away from you, shoulders shifting as she melts further into the bed.

With a heavy sigh, you grasp your phone and get up, quietly leaving the bedroom. If nothing else, some fresh air might do you some good.

You find your place in the almost luxurious lounge area of their home, curled up on a small couch, staring down at the ground as your mind races. However, the sound of a door opening, and footsteps following, makes you look up.

George.

He sees you as he rounds the corner, and even on his sleepy way to the bathroom, he still looks well put together.

He gives a friendly, playful smile. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite, am I right?”

Of course this man would make a dad joke.

You manage a breathy laugh, more of a huff, watching as he walks into the bathroom and shuts the door.

Meanwhile, George can’t help but think a little harder than he might need to about your reaction. Typically, you’d banter with him, be it by making fun of his stupid jokes, or telling one that’s just as bad, and tonight, you’d just seemed off. Not to mention, he’d found it odd that you weren’t in the bedroom…not that it’s his business, but he can be a nosy man at times, and suddenly, he’s worried.

As he comes out of the bathroom, his gaze lands on you, and then meets yours when you look back up.

“What?” you ask, brows furrowing. You figured he wouldn’t pick up on your state, especially with you trying to mask it for his sake.

“You alright?” He asks, accent clear as day, as if he hadn’t most likely been sleeping peacefully moments ago.

“Uhm,” you pause. Should you tell him, or just let him be on his way? Is it more annoying to leave him wondering? He probably doesn’t even care that much—

“We may not be close, but I’m always here if you need anything,” he says, voice kind, the smile on his lips equally as polite. After all, you’d been friends with his sister for years now, and it’s not like you’d never spoken to him.

So, you give in. With a reluctant sigh, you watch as he walks down the stairs and stands in front of you, tilting his head, as if to encourage you to go on.

“…I get anxiety,” you finally say, feeling a bit ridiculous to be keeping him up for this. “Anxiety?” he echoes, “about?”

“Everything,” you laugh, shrugging. “My brain just gets really active at night, and I tend to spiral into bad thoughts, but most of it’s irrational, and i’ll be fine—“

“What can I do?” he asks, as he looks at you with worried eyes. “To help, I mean,” he expounds.

You blink a few times, a bit taken aback at how eagerly he’s jumped to that. “I feel better talking to someone,” you admit, and he hums in acknowledgment, nodding.

“Is it alright if I sit, then?” he asks, gesturing to the space on the couch next to you, and takes a seat when you give him permission.

While it takes a few minutes of silence, he eventually gets talking, and you find that despite how you imagined a situation like this going, it’s vastly different. He’s patient, talkative in the right way, and a good listener.

So, when you eventually drift off in your spot, after George was rambling about something you truthfully didn’t have much interest in, he smiled to himself, laid a blanket over you, and took himself back to bed.

Safe to say, you weren’t a bother to him. At least, you can’t imagine you were, when he brings you breakfast the following morning, and offers to take you out for coffee.

Max frequently stays up later than he should. He likes how peaceful and quiet things are at night. No one’s awake to be in his space, he feels most comfortable by himself, and it’s a great time to invite himself to the driving simulator without being interrupted, or forced to share.

He doesn’t bother to check the time. It’s late, he knows that much, as well as the fact that he doesn’t have any reason to be up early later. His hands grip the steering wheel of his sim, eyes fixed ahead on the screen, as he seamlessly takes corner after corner of a track. He’s got a headset on, and no more light than one lamp next to the couch, just enough for him to see his surroundings, but not so much that it’s glaring on the screen.

He’s so focused that he doesn’t notice when you watch him from across the room, peaking out of the hallway. You’d initially been coming out to refill your water, and use the bathroom, trying to power through your anxiety, but now, you’re finding that this is working wonders to soothe your brain. Your eyes flicker from the screen to his face, watching his expressions shift, the way his brows furrow and lips purse slightly…or the way the veins in his forearms move under his skin-

He also doesn’t notice when you set your phone down, then leave, and return with a blanket, and make yourself cozy on the couch. You don’t really want him to know you’re there, anyways. Is this an invasion of his privacy? You briefly wonder, but eventually decide that it’s not like he’s doing anything scandalous, and he’s in the main room of the house anyways.

Max eventually finishes a handful of laps and exits out of that particular track, then leans over the arm of the chair to grab his water bottle, only to then realize that you’re lying there.

His eyes widen, then his brows furrow, and he pulls his headset off, taking in your form. Your stretched out on the couch, blanket laying neatly over your form, and your hands are laying on your stomach. He can tell you didn’t just sit down, and mentally backtracks, trying to remember when he last knew he was alone.

“Well,” he starts, staring at you, looking over the edge of the chair. “What’s this about?” he asks, and you smile slightly. You’d become rather comfortable with Max. He’s a nice guy, always been polite to you, and you always end up sitting next to him when you go out to eat with his family, anyways, so it’s only natural that you learned how you can talk to him.

“Anxiety,” you shrug. “I just like watching you play, and tonight, i’ve learned that it helps my brain quiet down,” you explain.

He hums, nodding slowly. He can understand that, in some way, he supposes. He looks back at the screen, then at you. “Do you want to try?” he asks, gesturing to the sim. “…It would help, maybe? Take your mind off of things?” he suggests.

It always shocks you how considerate he can be, and every time, your heart warms.

Max has good intentions, he does, but fuck does he hate watching other people drive the sim. As he explains (maxplains) the driving to you, and tries not to cringe too hard at the way you handle the car, you find that this is a fantastic distraction. You’re well aware that you’re driving him to insanity, and before you can tease him, your eyes get heavy, and you slowly drift to sleep.

When the car first starts going off track, straight for the barriers, Max thinks you have to be fucking with him…and then he realizes your head is tilted to the side, and you’ve somehow fallen asleep in the damn driving seat.

He spends a lot longer than he’d like to admit being baffled at your actions, before he comes to carefully take apart the arm of the sim, and scoop you out of the seat. He’s a strong guy, and for some reason, the only rational way to go about this, in his mind, was to carry you to bed.

Halfway down the hall, he realizes how much of a hassle it would be to open Victorias door and put you back on the air mattress without waking you and her up, so he just pushes into his own room, lays you in his bed, and tucks you in.

He stares down at you in his bed, a sigh leaving his lips. He wants to be irritated, but more than anything, he’s relieved that you’re clearly in a better state.

Safe to say, he finds it very hard to focus on the sim when he goes back to it.

Franco Colapinto is one of those people that can get along with anyone. He’s fun, talkative, usually good at reading the room, and it’s rare that he doesn’t get on well with someone.

So, it’s only natural that you and him had been well acquainted. However, you’re also one of the lucky people that gets to experience his flirtatiousness. In fact, he’s been flirting since day one, and you’ve been matching his energy the whole time. He loves it, and so do you.

That being said, even though you’re relatively close, and consider him a friend, your anxious mind has convinced you that he flirts with you because it’s fun, rather than because he likes you, even as just a friend. He flirts with everyone, and thus, your brain uses that against you.

Which is why you walk past his room, and down to the living room, where you sit on the couch, looking out of the window, into the beauty of Argentinian greenery that’s currently illuminated by moonlight. You practice your breathing, letting your eyes flutter shut. Your chest only feels a little lighter when you hear footsteps, and look over your shoulder to see Franco there, staring at you with mischievous curiosity, like he’s ready to pop off a flirtatious joke. In any other moment, you’d be just as ready, but right now, you’d rather not.

You don’t speak, unable to curate the correct words to express your feelings in a way that feels right. Fortunately, Franco seems to understand by the look on your face that now isn’t the time to flirt. He holds your gaze, then walks into the kitchen. You refrain from watching him, not wanting to give away your interest in literally anything he does, simply because it’s him.

You hear him grab a glass…then another? Then, it sounds like he’s pouring water into one, before a click sounds, like a kettle.

Within a few minutes, he’s bringing you a mug, and has a glass of water for himself. You raise a brow at him, taking the mug despite your skepticism.

“Franco, I don’t really want to be hopped up on maté right now—“

“Not maté,” he assures you, with a wave of his hand, “it’s to help you relax, amor. I promise.”

You trust him, and the sincere twinkle in his pretty eyes is enough that you’d be convinced even if you didn’t trust him already.

He watches you bring the mug to your lips, and reaches out to guide it slower to your mouth. “It’s hot,” he murmurs, aiding you in taking a sip, watching so attentively. Your chest warms, and you know it’s not just the tea. You’ve seen Franco be gentle, obviously, but this is different, and oh, so divine.

“Why are you still up?” he asks you softly, fingers brushing yours as he retracts his hand.

“Anxiety,” you muse simply, and he nods understandingly, reaching out to rub your arm. He’d only experienced your anxiety once, some time ago when his sister mentioned you were having a hard time, and he’d noticed your shaky hands at the dinner table.

His hand trails up to your hair, and he pets the back of your head, as if to brush away your worries. Rather than fixating on your anxiety, he starts talking about how nice it is to have you around again, and his excitement for the upcoming season. You and him grew up together, in a way, even if you’d been “closer” to his sister.

By the time your tea is half finished and cool, you’re leaning into his side, and he’s gently taking the mug from you, setting it down on the coffee table. He guides you further into his hold, and you comply, letting yourself melt into his warmth, and the sound of his voice continuing to talk to you.

“You think I flirt with you for no reason?” Franco asks, laughing quietly, as if that’s unbelievable. “Franco, you flirt with anything that has legs and speaks a language you understand,” you grumble into his shoulder, making the man huff quietly. “Ay, dios mìo,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on your head. “Maybe it doesn’t seem that way, but I flirt with you differently,” he explains quietly, “and I flirt with you because I want to, because I like you.”

If you weren’t half asleep, you’d pry into that response. Instead, you let yourself heart feel content with the knowledge that you’re more than what you’d managed to convince yourself of.

Throughout the night, you learn that banter isn’t the only thing that comes easy to you two. You talk and talk, various topics coming naturally, and by the time you’re both drifting to sleep, the sun is peeking through the window. And, in due time, you’d be found curled up on the couch together, confirming everyone else’s suspicions.

Logan’s schedule is all over the place. Some nights, he’s out by 9 pm, and others, he’s unable to rest until early morning. Tonight is one of those insufferable ones where he’s tossed and turned, and not one position is comfortable enough to stay in for more than five minutes, his bed is getting too warm, even though he’s thrown off the blankets and stripped his shirt off, and he’s tired, but not sleepy.

“Oh my god,” he murmurs to himself, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, trying to clear his mind enough to relax. As he lowers them, his head begins to throb, and he sighs heavily. Of course he’d get a headache now.

As he sits up and reaches for his water bottle, a timid knock sounds on his door. “Just a sec,” he says just loud enough for you to hear, and takes a few gulps of water, before he gets up. He slides his shirt back on before opening the door, and even though it’s not necessarily crazy that you’re at his door, it still takes him aback. He hadn’t really thought about who it would be.

“Shit, are you okay?” he asks, when he notices your distressed features, immediately dropping his own frustration.

“Not really,” you murmur, fiddling with your hands, picking at the skin around your nails. “I’m just having a really anxious night, and I can’t sleep,” you explain.

Logan had always been a sweetheart. He’s polite and respectful, always the type to open doors for you out of habit, the kind of guy you could always go to if you needed it. Which is why you’re coming to him now. You’d known he was up, after hearing him shuffling in his room, and the opportunity seemed to present itself to you.

The man stares at you for a moment, pressing his lips together as he contemplates how to go about this predicament. He looks back at his room. It’s not messy, but it’s not clean either. He needs to do laundry, has a few pairs of shoes here and there that should be in their rack in his closet, and of course his bed is a clear representation of his inability to rest. He doesn’t exactly want to invite you into his space. If it’s stressing him out, he wouldn’t want to have you there, and risk making your troubles worse.

“Would a drive make you feel better?” he asks, looking back to you, blue eyes meeting yours. “A drive?” you echo curiously.

“Yeah, like…the suns gonna be up in a few hours,” he shrugs, “we could go to the beach, grab some breakfast or something,” he thinks aloud, and he speaks almost hesitantly, like he’s scared that he’s suggesting the wrong thing.

Meanwhile, your heart skips a beat with excitement, and you nod. “Yeah, yes— if that’s not an issue for you?” you ask, brows knitting with a new concern that this is an inconvenience for him.

“No, no,” he shakes his head adamantly, grabbing his car keys off of his dresser. “I can’t sleep either,” he assures you, offering a small smile, and the tiredness in his eyes says it all.

Thus, you join him for a long car ride. He drives smoothly through Floridian streets, giving you the time to talk about your struggles, should you want to. He shares his own, as if to help you feel more comfortable, and after some time, he offers you the aux chord.

As the sun starts to come up, he drives to the beach, and you both sit down on cool sand, shoulders together. Waves roll just to your feet before retracting, the sound soothing. The sun slowly arises, shining down on the both of you.

You let your instincts take over, and rest your head on his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as you soak up the gentle warmth of the morning sun. Logan sighs contently, and rests his cheek against your head, as if to assure you that you’re fine where you are, with your head on his shoulder.

You grew up on the Schumacher ranch. Being family friends and having a love for the work, you’ve been helping since you were a child, and now spend a majority of your time as a ranch hand, helping take care of things. You were best friends with Gina as a child — still are — and likely would have been just as close with Mick then, if it weren’t for him being away for races most of the time.

Now that he’s back home more often, you’ve been able to get closer with him, your relationship bordering on more than friends, but not quite a couple. Everyone else sees it, though, and you think about it too often to not want it, truthfully.

You’ve also always struggled with anxiety. You’ve got an active mind, and working yourself from sun up to sundown has always kept the irrational worry at bay. However, recently, for whatever reason, it’s kicked back up, and tonight has been particularly bad — the worst in a while.

So, after tossing and turning, you get up and head out to the stables. You check on the horses, even if you know they likely don’t need to be checked on, and as you round the corner, you find Mick sitting on the ground, hand on the mane of a foal.

Huffing a small laugh as he meets your gaze and smiles, you tilt your head playfully. “It’s past your bedtime, Micky,” you hum, making the man laugh gently.

He checks his wrist, an imaginary watch, and raises his brow, looking up at you, “it’s also past your bedtime,” he teases back. “What’s up?” he then follows up, making you sigh.

“Just anxiety. Nothing fun, unfortunately,” you muse, taking a seat in front of him. You admire the young colt next to Mick, a small smile forming on your lips as the cool air greets your skin, and you feel momentarily comforted by surroundings you’re so fond of. The ranch, nice weather, the horses, and undeniably, Mick.

“Awe,” he frowns sympathetically, nudging his boot against yours as if to comfort you, and it works. He’s not sure what to say, how to make it better, but the fact that you’re smiling, even if only a little, makes him feel better. “How have things been?” he asks, leading you to walk him through just that.

He’s stared at you as you rundown the ranch gossip, the ranch hands that have come and gone, some wanting to stir up drama, some wanting to put their nose where it doesn’t belong. You tell him that you’ve been following his races, that you and Gina watch them together.

“Gina misses you more than she’d ever admit to you,” you hum, making Mick chuckle, smiling fondly at that thought. They’d always been fairly close, close as siblings can be. “Not to make it about me, but i’ve missed you too,” you add, making Mick’s smile wider.

“Yeah?” he inquires, nudging your boot once again. “You can always text me, or call, you know that, right?” he asks, and you honestly hadn’t thought about that.

“I want you to, actually,” he adds. “It would be good to hear from you more…I miss you too.” He muses, and by now, you’re not so worried about anything, and far more focused on the knowledge that your feelings for Mick are definitely not one sided.

THANK YOU FOR READING! requests are open for any drivers written above, and i do headcanons, written fics, text fics, and smaus, as well as any reader.

I appreciate your support and time. 💌

[iangallagherisadeadman]

thinking about manic Ian "God is gracious" Galllagher with religious-oriented kind of delusions once known as gay jesus getting out of jail s9 and going to churches and temples trying to hear gods voice and ultimately deciding to plead guilty only to end in Mickey's warm embrace once again. Mickey who name is Mikhailio which literally means "who is like God" or "who resembles god"

[lokideservesahug]

Bound to falling in love

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Mick Schumacher x reader Soulmate AU

Warnings: None that I can see?

Notes: Unsurprisingly this won the vote. But I hope you like it :)

Summary: Mick Schumacher has been extremelyprivate with how soulmark his whole life. But what happens when the interest does ehat its best at, snooping. Well Mick Schumacher might just finally meet the celebrity that he doesn't at all have a tiny crush on...

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

Yourusername: WE ARE SO BACK BABY!!🖤🖤 Mercedes CCH 2024 Incoming (I'm delusional)

Liked by Mickschumacher, Lewishamilton and 756,986 others

View all 533 comments

User1: I knew Y/N was an F1 girlie but I didn't know she was a Mercedes girl🤔

↳Yourusername: Have been for ever🖤

User2: Y/N is like me fr eith that caption

↳User3: Fr though😭 Like wdym 2nd place in sprint doesn't mean Lewis will get his 8th!?

↳Yourusername: Maybe he performed so well just to improve his ex-husband

↳User4: LMAO Poor Nico

Lewishamilton: Glad to see your support lies in the right place💪

↳Yourusername: OH my gosh. Sir Lewis Hamilton. It is an honour to speak to you

↳Lewishamilton: Maybe you should come to the Mercedes garage some time. I think certain people would love your company��

↳User5: I think he just killed Y/N

↳User6: Wa she talking about himself or someone else. George perhaps? I'M so nosy!!!

↳User7: Well Mick is in the likes so that's where my money is...

↳User8: Sure grandma, the mkst soul ate obsessed obsessed In existence is caught up over Y/N...

↳User7: I mean it is Y/N Y/L/N

↳User8: True...

User9: Mick being in the likes👀

↳User10: Meh even if he does have a thing for Y/N, he'll still stick to his soulmate like he has done for decades.

↳User11: Hear me out, Y/N is his soulmate...

↳User10: Girl actualy shut up

↳User11: Just look at that twitter thread

↳User10: Hmmm interesting. It looks like it could be possible but the chances are 0.001% of it being her. Just because one user recognised it doesn't mean it's her

User12: Is anyone else really confused by all this talk of the twitter thread and that "one reply"

Liked by Yourusername

↳User13: basically people are trying to find out who Mick's soulmate is and currently people think it's Y/N

↳User12: OH... how random

↳User13: Yeah but tell me they wouldn't make the perfect couple...

Liked by Yourusername

↳User14: Y/N liking this comment + its replies twice is wild and shows she's as curious as us...

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Mick's phone

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Your phone | Mick's | Your phone

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Yourusername

Yourusername: This guy wouldn't leave me alone in Italy. He says he's in the family business of driving cars or smt

Liked by Mickschumacher, Lewishamilton and 1,023,987 others

View all 674 comments

User1: NO WAY.... DOES THIS MEAN WHAT I THINK IT DOES

↳User2: Girl probably? Hopefully? Idk?

User3: We don't need confirmation now...but also we so do!!!

User4: Awww they really are perfect for each other!🥺🥰

Liked by Mickschumacher, Yourusername

Lewishamilton: Glad you two finally found the time to go on a proper date rather than letting Mick ogle you all day!

↳Mickschumacher: Thanks for that man...

↳Yourusername: Aww Micky, you stare at me all the time?

↳Mickschumacher: How can I not Schatz, you're the most gorgeous person in the whole world❤❤❤

↳Estabanocon: How sweet 🤢

↳Mickschumacher: Aww just let me be in love this once.

User5: Ugh he's so bf coded

Liked by Yourusername

↳User6: I SEE YOU LURKING Y/N

User7: did you guys see Mick say love? Ooh is this a new word added to the equation or....

Liked by yourusername

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

New story from Mickschumacher

(My darling, my soulmate. Finally all mine to love)

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist:@nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Slipknot Drabbles: What They Wear To Bed FLUFF

Hello! I have a request for Pyjama Anon! Just some short drabbles about what the guys wear to bed! I hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: None

My Masterlist! ~ Tip Jar! ~ AO3 Link!

Divider Credit: @adornedwithlight

Corey:

Corey was all about comfort. Performing was hard on his body, more often than not leaving him with sore muscles and his throat completely raw. There was something almost therapeutic about throwing on his favorite pair of fleece pajama pants and an old, worn  T-shirt that had definitely seen better days. You would slip into bed together, hushed goodnights and soft kisses as you settled into the mattress. He loves the way it felt when you would slip your hands under his shirt, letting your delicate touch roam over his body. He groans as you knead into his tired muscles, “don’t worry about me, baby.” He argued, but he made no move to stop your attentive care.

“You work too hard,” you mumble, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “You gotta let me take care of you sometimes, yeah?” It was almost like a routine you had worked yourselves into, most of your nights ending the same way, with you noticing your boyfriend had drifted off by the sound of him snoring. It was comfortable, just how Corey liked it.

Sid:

It was impossible to keep clothes on Sid to begin with. He would constantly lose his shoes in the hotel rooms, you'd blink and he's suddenly walking around in nothing but his boxers in the tour bus, and if it was even a little too warm outside? Forget it, the shirt's coming off. Bed time was absolutely no different. He would start off in a T-shirt and some sweats, the two of you cuddled up in bed while you would absentmindedly scroll through your phones or watch a movie. Your hands would eventually drift under his shirt, just wanting to feel the warmth of his skin under your fingers. He would just chuckle, sitting you up and slipping the shirt over his head, pressing a kiss to your temple as you settled back down. Eventually, he would end up complaining about how hot it was, kicking his sweatpants onto the floor. He would chuckle as you teased him for always being naked. “Gotta let the body breathe, babe.” He would joke in response. Sometimes, he managed to keep his boxers on the entire night. But, more often than not, those also ended up getting discarded on the floor with the rest of his clothes. It was hard enough to keep clothes on him to begin with, it became even harder due to the fact that your boyfriend was almost always insatiably horny.

Chris:

There was nothing that you loved more than crawling into bed at the end of the long day, something that was only made more enjoyable now that you had someone to settle down with for the night. Chris slept hot, always. It was a blessing in the winter, being able to curl up against your own personal heater. But, he was also no stranger to the nefarious pranks from his band mates, meaning he always had to be somewhat clothed. Often opting for a thin pair of basketball shorts, maybe a T-shirt if it was particularly cold that night. Chris absolutely adores sleeping skin to skin if that's something you're comfortable with. He loves having you pressed to his strong chest, his fingers lazily dragging over your muscles, feeling how they shifted under his delicate touch. Your nights would always be filled with hushed conversations and laughter, Chris unable to stop himself from stealing chaste kisses that would leave you giggling until you eventually drifted off to sleep in his arms.

Jim:

Sleeping with Jim was always a mess of tangled limbs as he crushed you underneath his massive body. Usually opting to sleep in just his boxers it always presented you the perfect opportunity to cuddle up with him. He would open his arms for you to crawl into, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you nestled against him, your body molding perfectly against his. You were the puzzle piece he never knew he needed up until the fateful day you two had met. Now, he couldn’t imagine spending a night away from you. Whether it was crammed into one of the bunks in the tour bus, or being sprawled out across his too big bed, only to end up tangled together in the middle of the mattress come morning, Jim always needed you within arms reach, he couldn’t sleep otherwise. “Come here, baby.” He mumbles groggily. He hikes your leg over his hip, the heavy weight of his muscular arm settling across your waist. “Comfy?” He asks quietly, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips as you let out a hum in response. He gently cards his fingers through your hair, the steady rise and fall of his chest eventually lulling you to sleep.

Mick:

Mick chuckles as you pout at him from the edge of the bed. “Just go grab one of my shirts out of the drawer, love.”

“But, yours is warm.” You whine in response. “And it smells like you.” He sighs, eyeing you playfully.

“Always so needy, aren’t you mama?” He teases, letting out a soft laugh at the sight of your flustered expression. “Anything for my pretty girl.” He slips his T-shirt over his head, leaving him in a pair of simple, black sweatpants. You pull the soft fabric over your head, the way too big shirt pooling around your thighs. Mick lets out a quiet hum as his gaze drags hungrily over you.

“I definitely can’t complain about you stealing my clothes when you look like that.” He takes your hand, pulling you into bed next to him. You settle against his strong chest smiling as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Good night, you little thief.” He teases, making you laugh. You share a few more soft kisses until you eventually drift off in his arms.

Joey:

Joey groans, rolling out his shoulders as he kicks the hotel room door shut behind you. “You were incredible out there tonight.” You say with a smile, your arms sliding over his shoulders.

“Yeah?” He grins back, letting out a hum as your lips slot against his. “It’s all thanks to you being there.” He whispers against your lips, stealing one more chaste kiss before pulling away. Your cheeks grow warm at his sweet words, the two of you separating in order to get ready for bed. You slip under the covers with a sigh, settling underneath the cover while you wait for Joey to finish up in the bathroom. “Jesus, it’s fucking freezing in here.” You hear him complain as his stark naked form darts from the bathroom, practically diving into the bed. You giggle, pulling him into your arms once you manage to find him under the mess of blankets.

“Well, maybe if you actually wore some clothes it wouldn’t be so cold.” You tease in response.

“Yeah, but this is so much more comfortable.” He rebuttals with a smirk. He wraps his arms around you, his head nestling against your chest, making you giggle in response. He lets out a hum of approval as you play with his hair, his breathing growing slow and even as he drifts off in your loving embrace.

Paul:

You squeal as Paul blankets his full weight on top of you, he groans as he settles, chuckling when he feels you struggling against him. “You’re crushing me!” You giggle, pounding on him with your fists.

“But, I have a crush on you.” He argues back with a laugh. Eventually giving in, he rolls over, pulling you on top of him in the process. You let out a pleased hum as he presses his lips to yours. You smile as you cuddle into him, your hands wandering over his strong chest and soft stomach, tracing along the waistband of the shorts he had worn to bed. “What are you doing?” He asks with a curious, playful smile.

“You just feel nice, that’s my favorite thing about cuddling with you is being able to rub my hands over you.” His features soften, studying you with an expression of pure adoration.

“You're sweet.” He cups your cheek in his hand, gently angling your jaw upward in order to place a gentle kiss to your lips. He pulls you against him, enjoying the feeling of your fingers absentmindedly wandering over him until you both eventually fell asleep.

[twinklyylights]

Mickey clocks out of his Old Army shift at 7:02 but doesn’t make to the back door of the Gallagher house until 8:18. His movements are slow and stiff as he brings his key to the lock and twists.

Long. Fucking. Day.  He thinks to himself.

Thankfully, no one is in the kitchen to make note of his arrival. But, he can hear that the living room TV is on. He hopes that it’s Ian sat in front of the screen, and not any other members of the family.

When his stomach growls, he groans in annoyance.

He hasn’t eaten since his lunch break early in the afternoon, but he also can’t remember the last time he sat down. 

He’s pretty sure his feet will fall off if he stays on them any longer.

He decides that his stomach will have to wait. 

Ian turns his head at the sound of his boyfriend’s footsteps. He flashes Mickey a brief smile, but it quickly falls away when he takes in Mickey’s demeanor. 

With a groan, Mickey flops onto the couch beside him. His eyes close almost instantly.

“You okay?” Ian asks, as he picks up the remote and pauses the screen in front of him. 

Mickey shrugs. 

“Tired.”

Ian’s hand finds its way to Mickey’s thigh and he gives it a loving squeeze. 

“Ready for bed?”

Mickey shakes his head.

“’Hungry,” he answers through a yawn.

“Debbie made chicken and rice earlier. You want that?”

“Sure.”

Ian’s quick on his feet as he heads towards the kitchen. The bowl of food that he set aside for Mickey earlier is on the counter waiting for this very moment. 

It spends 2 minutes in the microwave spinning slowly.

When he comes back into the living room, he turns on the lamp beside the couch. 

Mickey winces even though the lamp’s light is dim.

“I’m sleeping,” he complains. 

“Nope, not yet. Baby, you gotta eat.” 

Ian sets the bowl down next to Mickey’s feet that are resting on the coffee table. 

Mickey still has his work shoes on, and Ian can’t help but let out a small laugh at the style of them. They’re nothing close to what Mickey would ever choose to wear.

“You gonna sit up to eat?”

“Can’t.”

“You can’t sit up?”

Mickey shakes his head. His eyes are still closed.

“’My fucking feet hurt.”

And even though Ian doesn’t quite understand the correlation, he still nods his head in understanding as he goes to reclaim his spot on the couch. 

“Bring your feet here,” he says. “Let me take your shoes off.”

Mickey cracks one eye open. He looks at his boyfriend incredulously. 

“I’m not a fucking baby. I can take my own shoes off, man,” he asserts.

 Even though he makes no attempt to do so. 

“I never said you were,” Ian shoots back. “Let me do this. Let me take care of you,” he pleads.

The 6 words do the trick and Mickey turns toward Ian. He brings both of his legs to rest in his boyfriend’s lap and Ian does his part to take off the offending shoes. 

“Don’t forget your food,” he says softly. He lets Mickey lean over to grab the ceramic bowl and begin eating. 

“Thanks for saving me some,” Mickey mumbles around a mouthful. 

“’Course.”

With that, Ian presses play on the old Jason Clarke film he was watching before Mickey came home. 

It’s all enough for Mickey to begin to feel the stress of the day leave his body. Enough for him to swallow away complaints of bitchy customers, and focus in on Jeffery Dean Morgan running out of a burning building. 

When Ian’s hand wraps around his foot, he’s caught off guard. 

Initially, he squirms at the contact, but his hesitation quickly morphs into realization and his entire body relaxes.

Ian’s giving him a foot massage.

And while he hasn’t asked for one, he’s already feeling relief from it.

He feels the love in the gesture, too.

He pokes Ian’s belly with his big toe.

“You trying to get laid or something?” 

Ian rolls his eyes. His lips twitch into a smile.

“Laid by the guy that just worked a 9-hour shift?”

As if on command, Mickey yawns in response. He laughs a bit at the irony.

“Man, who am I kidding? I’m so fucking tired.”

And the way he says it makes Ian’s hands go still.

The last couple weeks have been a whirl wind for the both of them. Getting readjusted to everything has been exhausting. And while Ian didn’t exactly have a choice when it came to coming back to the only home he’s ever known, he knows that Mickey doesn’t have to be here with him if he truly doesn’t want to be.

After a beat, Ian speaks again. His voice is timid. 

“Are you still happy to be home?”

Mickey’s face screws up. What kind of question is that?

“You think I’d rather still be locked up?”

Ian blows out a tense breath. The agitation in Mickey’s voice is clear and he internally kicks himself for being the reason behind it.

“No, I just know you’re stressed with work, and parole, and being back here with all of us,” Ian lists off. “I don’t want you to re-”

Mickey cuts him off then. 

“Stop,” he whines, uncharacteristically childlike. “Massage my feet and take me to bed. Don’t start with all that shit.”

Ian does what he’s told. They’re both silent for an awkward moment. The movies still playing. Mickey’s bowl still sat on the coffee table. 

His feet not feeling so bad anymore.

“I want to be here with you,” Mickey promises eventually. “I want everything with you, man. You gotta know that by now.”

Ian sighs.

“I didn’t think it would be this hard,” he confesses. “I wanted you here with me so you could fucking relax for once. Not work yourself to death at some shitty teen clothing store.”

Mickey chuckles. He hears the concern in Ian’s voice.

“Hey man, don’t shit on Old army."

Ian cuts his eyes over to him. He’s got the nerve to look so relaxed despite it all.

“You know what I mean.”

Mickey shrugs.

“It’s not all bad,” he says with an ease that surprises Ian. “It’s been a Hell of a lot worse, don’t you think?”

Ian finally lets himself laugh. 

“Yeah, it has.”

“You gotta stop worrying about everything,” Mickey tells him. “Shit will figure itself out.”

Ian nods in agreement.

 If he’s being honest with himself, he’s scared of how things will settle out. But with Mickey sounding so sure about everything, he doesn’t let that fear have too much of a say.

When Mickey yawns again, Ian smiles. He grabs the remote and cuts the movie off without a second thought. 

“C’mon let’s get you to bed. Tomorrow will be here before we know it.”

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunny! Can i have some nacho dip, spider web pops and hot cocoa please? With mick schumacher and wolff!reader? Thank you!

halloween menu - bakery menu

the halloween menu is available until nov 2nd! submit your orders for the spooooooky season! thank you to everyone who has submitted so far, i am working through them as fast as i can!! happy halloween. <3

nacho dip: "seeing you with those kids makes me want one." + spider web pops: "the costume is meant to be scary, not cute." + hot cocoa: gentle/soft sex served by mick schumacher !!

tags: smut/pwp, married life, wolff!reader,

"aw, well aren't you a cute little vampire." mick chuckled as he leaned in closer to you. his arms wrapped around you.

you made a face, but folded closer to him. you wrapped your arms around him and pouted against his shoulders, "the wrong costume came."

"why, my love. you look amazing." he pulled away to look at you. he hated when you pouted. he didn't need to see his wife so sad.

you replied, "the costume is meant to be scary, not cute!"

the whole plan was to dress as a scary vampire, and hand out candy to the kids in the area where the two of you lived. but instead the orders must've gotten switched and you looked more cute than scary.

you pouted at your husband and he leaned in to kiss you on the forehead. you held onto him and said, "like, look at it." you pulled away and swayed from side to side, "i was supposed to scare the kids."

mick laughed and replied, "i'd say that you are already the scariest woman alive. but, that would be a lie." he cupped your face which only made you frown more prominent, "you're too beautiful to be scary. even a scary costume wouldn't hide your beauty."

you loosened the frown when he kissed you on the lips. you couldn't hold it against the costume for too long. not when your husband kept telling you how scary you looked (he replaced the word 'beautiful' with scary in all is compliments). he was earnestly trying and it made you feel a little better.

-

another feeling arose that evening. when mick handed out the candy. he wasn't dressed in anything too spectacular. he was in a batman t-shirt that was a little tighter than most. but, he was so good with the kids that came to the door.

he gave them hi-fives and smiles. he made sure to give them the full-sized bars and even waved to parents who were waiting in the distance. a few people recognized him and he was just friendly. but to see mick with the kids made you feel heated in the face.

it was no secret that you two knew you wanted to have kids. it was one of the first things you discussed when you saw one another. but with his busy racing career and your busy work-life, it was hard to fit a baby into your life. but there was a pull in your soul that made you think of something different.

maybe it was time to start really working towards having a child. when mick handed out the last for the candy and closed the door before he turned to you. you looked at him and gave him a bright smile.

you approached him and wrapped your arms around him. you held onto him tightly as you looked to him, your handsome husband. you giggled, "seeing you with those kids makes me want one."

he perked up at your words, "oh? really now? you want to have our own to dress up next year?" he held onto you and smiled. he leaned in and asked, "what would your father think? him finally becoming a grandfather."

you made a face, "oh my god, mick." you laughed. you held onto his arms and replied, "i think he'd blow a fuse like when i told him we were engaged without telling him we were dating." you held onto him a little tighter, "he'll insist that our baby has the wolff last name."

mick held onto you by the waist, "we can always hyphenate." then leaned in to kiss you. he wasted no time getting you into the bedroom for the evening. the lights were turned off so no one else came for last minute candy, and soon your husband unwrapped you like the treat you were.

he kissed the plane between your breasts once your dress was off and he held you by the sides, "mmm, taste sweeter than any chocolate." his cock twitched in his jeans. and when he eventually let go of you, you took him by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him into bed.

you both took each other's clothes off. you pulled the t-shirt over his head and he got your bra and panties off. soon you were both left naked and his hands grazed across your skin with love and affection.

"my wife wants a baby." he purred, "i wonder if tonight will be the night. you and i finally make a family." he was your father's deserve driver but also his son in law. it was quite a situation, but you loved mick all the same.

you ended up on your back with your husband between your legs. he kissed at your chest as his large hands held onto your hips. you could feel the thrill of excitement through you as he rubbed his achy cock up against your needy slit. you two had done this hundreds of times, even before you got married.

you could fondly remember the time that you and him got intimate in the garage for the team and he made sure you knew how much he needed you after a good drive. there was one thing to drive well, it was another thing to have him drive you wild.

he eased his cock into you. you could feel it in the most intimate way. mick wasn't a rough lover, he never had been. he couldn't be rough with you, not when he loved you so much.

you knew some women loved to be roughed up in the bedroom and treated like a princess by their lovers outside of it. but, mick was gentle through and through. his stubborn wife who he loved more than life itself.

"shit." he groaned, "such a beautiful woman." he leaned in a little closer, "i wonder where you get all your beauty from. not your father." he chuckled, which only turned into a laugh when you playfully smacked him on the bare chest.

you held onto his forearms and he moved against you. his pace was gentle and filled with love as the two of you moved against one another. you could feel the love between the two of you as if you didn't know it already. you knew that your husband loved you more than life itself, that mick was the only one for you.

it felt so cheesy to think, but you knew in your soul that it was true. mick adored you, he loved you above all else. never in his life had he had the privilege to meet such an amazing woman, he told you that often. almost daily. so of course he wasn't going to fuck you till it hurt.

not when he could adore every curve you had, every slope of your body. when he kissed you once more, you felt his warmth. his love and he felt yours. two halves of a whole, lovers.

"mm, honey." you said as you shifted your hips a little. he got a better angle to thrust against you with. the bed moved a little under your movements as your eyes remained on one another.

he caught sight of every expression you made, especially as the pleasure rose inside of you. divine being, beyond beauty. he could feel the stutter in his heat beat as he made love to you.

"i love you." he said, "from the moment i saw you around the track. the first time you took me for a ride in the car. the whole time i screamed because i didn't know you were actually an amazing driver." he smiled at you, a blush high in his cheeks as he continued to move against you.

you giggled and felt yourself grow warm in the face, "you were that worried?"

mick laughed as he leaned in closer, "i thought it was all a plot to scare some sense into me by your father. but i realized that you are an amazing driver." he kissed you once more and the two of you continued to make love on the bed together.

the moans got a little louder when mick broke the kiss, the gazed at your heated body with lust thumping in his heart. beyond any words, you were beyond beautiful. you made mick excited all over at the knowledge that he got to marry you.

and that he was going to start a family with you.

he wanted nothing more, only you as he moved against you. the feeling of your cunt around his cock felt amazing. to make love to you bare left him hot all over.

the pleasure soon became too much for both of you. the heat between you two left you both panting heavily as mick went in for one last kiss. he continued to fuck you with heavy thrusts which were spurred on by your hearty moans.

it was all erotic and it made the both of you yearn for each other more. the two of you rutted against one another until you both finished at the same time. he kept his hands planted on the beside under you and your hands were in his short hair.

he gave it a few more thrusts and then slowed to a spot. he kissed you on the lips once more before he gazed down at you. he smiled at you, "my beautiful wife...' he looked over at the clock at the nightstand, "the night is still young, so why don't we make the most of it."

and despite being filled with pleasure and heated all over. you were more than happy to straddle your lover's waist. he was right, the night was young. and you wanted to start your family.

-

"are you ready to hand out candy tonight?' mick asked as he got the beanie on his daughter's head, "this is your first halloween, miss wolff." he chuckled.

you watched from the doorway of your daughter's room while mick got her ready to 'hand out candy' which meant she got to sit on the couch with daddy and put on it's the great pumpkin charlie brown. you were dressed like a vampire for the second year in a row, mick joined in this year as a werewolf and your daughter as a little devil. dressed in a red onesie with a red beanie on with little fake horns on it.

"i bet she'll have a great time tonight. she'll be fast asleep by seven and we can eat all the leftover candy." you laughed as you approached your husband and wrapped your arms around his waist. you kissed his back, "mister werewolf."

he laughed, "well, my scary vampire wife, i would love that. let's just hope the kid's who come by don't scare her." he held your little girl to him.

when he turned to face you. the two of you kissed then you kissed your daughter's little round face, "yeah let's hope their costumes are cute. and not scary." <3

[finniestoncrane]

Congrats on your third year of making the Riddler a little more slutty UvU 💜💚 ✨️ You're doing the world a service by sharing your amazing writting

🤠Sheriff, I want one bastard named Mick Mundy arrested on account of deadbeat parenting.

He was too good of a shot- Ahem.

This man must be brought to justice and punished for his crimes.

Sniper x GN!Reader, headcanons a/n: hehe thank you mimi!! and thank you for giving me the alternative prompt too, it gave me THOUGHTS >:3c main event post • event masterlist • tag: finnie3k • main masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: dry humping, desperation, begging and pleading and whining, #1 sniper? no! #1 pathetic little puppy

he finds himself rubbing against you without even realising it most of the time

it's almost like it soothes him, keeps him calm for his work

so much so that he's at the point where he asks you to sit, stand, lean, bend over in front of him just so he can rub himself against you as he peers out the scope

it helps him focus if he has something else to concentrate on, something to put all his adrenaline into

fingers on the trigger, his hips bucking into you, cock stiff against the fabric of his underwear, his pants, and through your layers too

it's a comon occurrence, just something he does out of habit almost

but that means he's grown pretty comfortable with his show of affection and now he finds himself doing it whenever he can

rutting against your leg like a dog in heat, feeling the friction from your body, firm against his erection

the almost naive, innocent way he rubs himself into you, like a clumsy, much younger man than he is now

and the teasing pain of not feeling your skin against his, something delicious about holding back, about denying himself that pleasure

while still pleasuring himself with the pressure of his cock being held tight in his pants, bouncing against your body as he humps

still just as vocal as he would be if he were buried deep inside of you, but far more pathetic

adorable, pitiful whines as he strains to find the release, begging for it as he knows it'll take longer to get to with the constraints of the situation

relishing in the mess he makes in his own clothes as he finally cums, body still jerking a little, humping the air after he's moved from you

goofy grin spread across his face as he collects his energy, ready to press himself up against you again

[thisismeracing]

Hey, can I pleade request Mick dating a journalism major!reader in uni, (and she has to write a paper about something like 'a thing you find beautiful in everday life' or something like that and she writes about Mick, he reads it and realises she has feelings for him)? Please

P.S.: feel free ignore the part in the brackets

Beautiful things | MS47

⸺ the one where it's no secret you're in love with him, but he finally realizes it. ✓ mentions of food; friends to lovers; not proofread; fem!reader (she/her). 0.8k words

▸ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ▸ support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee

Mick had a rushed routine as a driver and a famous one. You also had a rushed routine, though you were neither famous nor a driver. Quite the opposite and your friendship surprised a few people because you were a journalism major who just like in the cliches spilled your coffee on him on your first day at the paddock.

One of your college friends who happened to have a rich mom invited you to a weekend in the paddock, and though every catastrophic scenario went through your head you said yes. As it turned out, you did make a fool of yourself, but it earned you a new friend, and just like everyone once told you, nobody is paying that much attention to the point of remembering the comic situation you got pulled into.

You and Mick clicked and had been friends for around two years now. You made it work even with the hectic schedule and the traveling. He would take you with him whenever it was near enough for a quick plane ride and you didn't have classes. That's how it became a thing for him to know about your assignments and help you with them. He would tell you that it was relaxing to read your writing, and then proceed to do it every small free second he got (there were shots of him in the garage with a sandwich in one hand and your laptop in the other).

Coming to think about it, you suppose that maybe that's how you fell for him. Mick was always there for you even when he was on the other side of the world. He would call, and text, and get you small souvenirs. He would help proofread your assignments, and ask about your day. And don't get things wrong, you have tons of friends, but none of them felt like what you had with Mick. None of them slept with their phone by their pillow waiting for you to sleep and waking you up if they heard you having a nightmare. You kept telling yourself that he was just extra friendly. That he was the golden retriever guy everyone talked about, but that didn't mean he loved you. That, though, wasn't enough to convince your heart and you saw yourself slowly and surely fall for him.

That's how you ended up writing about him in your last assignment. One he wasn't supposed to read, but you forgot you shared the online folder with him and that he opened it every weekend to check for new stuff.

There are many beautiful things in everyday life, but some don't seem captivating to us every day. I love the sky, love the way the blue can turn into orange, and somehow get mixed into a light purple. How at night you get to see different glimmers of stars, and travel imagining cloud forms just like when it's daylight. But I don't see the sky as lovely when it's winter and there's no sun or white clouds, just a dark shade of grey. [...] I also find the rush of people in the city captivating, each going on about their lives, taking the subway, strolling with friends, walking the dogs, and buying groceries. Still, there are days when I hate the rush, and I hate how the dogs will stand in the way on the sidewalk, how the subway is full, and how loud a group of strangers can be. [...] But then there are the people. A person. He drives just as effortlessly as he walks. And the days when he walks with me, the dark sky is beautiful, the dogs barking in the way are music to my ears, and the packed subway is full of bursting dreams and hopeful people. I'm one of them. I'm hopeful he'll notice me one day. I'm hopeful he'll love me the way I love him. I'm hopeful he'll see me just as beautiful as I see him. To me, he's the everyday beauty, not because of his sparkly blue eyes, or soft blond hair, but because of who he is. I never get tired of him. I never will because he's this kind of beauty to me.

"Wow," he breathed after finishing your paper just as you were walking into his driver's room.

His big ocean orbs found your frame by the door, and by the way he was looking at you, surprise etched on his face, you knew he read the piece and connected the dots.

"Mick...I-...I'm so sorry- I-" Truth be told, you were on the verge of tears, what was supposed to be a beautiful day started to feel like a nightmare. You thought so many things, thought he would hate you, thought he wouldn't wanna be friends anymore, that he would laugh at you, but he smiled.

He gave you that overwhelmingly gorgeous smile.

Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly, he was in front of you, still smiling, he reached for your cheekbones and connected your foreheads, taking a deep breath - something you weren't able to do because of your nerves.

"Schatzi, you're the most beautiful thing in the world," he whispered, and that small sentence was everything you needed to hear.

────── ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: This was so fun to write hihihi I hope you guys like it! - don't forget to reblog and comment if you do *mwah*

If you liked this piece and want early access to new ones and exclusive access to others, subscribe to my patreon!💘  ▸ check my main masterlist | patreon guide and my taglist.

©thisismeracing ― do not copy, steal, or translate my work; do not repost on a different media platform.

[ghostbustting]

vampire!Nikki sixx x reader smut where Nikki is just fucking the daylights out of her and won't stop commenting on her heart rate (superhearing) like the smug man he is.

Sorry if you don't write stuff like this feel free to reject, I just thought this sounded hot.

Love you 🩵

don't usually write stuffs like this, but hope I did well !! :")

╰┈➤“𝑪𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑩𝑳𝑶𝑶𝑫𝑬𝑫„ ๋࣭⭑

Vampire!Nikki Sixx x Reader

Contains Smut and Blood.

The moment I stepped out into the city late at night like this, I knew it might mean trouble. Los Angeles was wild. Too wild, perhaps. You’d see people driving in cars and blasting music loudly, people partying here and there, even some fights. But here I am, only trying to make my way back home from work.

My steps weren’t calm, yet weren’t so fast either. I would’ve chosen a taxi. But I wasn’t taking the chance of getting into a taxi with a creep again. However, was walking any better?

Surely not.

The road was crowded, sure. But not every one of them would seem to give a fuck if a woman was approached by creeps, no matter how obvious a scene is going on, some of them would most likely just avoid the scene in order to ‘protect’ themselves.

Hence, I take shortcuts along my way home. Not saying it’s any safer, but it would be useful if any sketchy dudes with big hairs, leather jackets, and tattoos were going your way.

I walk into the alleyway, the lights of L.A that were always so bright, turned dim and flickering in this area. Puddles of god knows what liquid were everywhere, I had to do my best to avoid them. Which is why, black shoe soles were better in this case, hiding what would be a fucking dirty sole.

However, my steps stops when I see a figure ahead of me. His body tall, dyed black hair big and long enough to hide the back of his neck, he was dressed in black, big boots and gloves covering what would be his slender fingers.

Another thing about the Los Angeles, is that not every corner of The City of Angels was always filled with angels.

Some of the Angelenos tends to stay in the dark late at night, blending perfectly well into the shadows like a camouflage and lurking slowly behind you, catching you off guard the moment you notice them and their demeanor.

Their cold skin seems to look pale by nighttime, teeth pointy if you got the chance to see them talk, often longing for blood, their eyes always as sharp as a razor, cutting through the person’s head each time they were gazed at.

Not a single heart beat would manage to escape their ears that can hear thousands and thousands of noises all at once. But if you run, you stand no chance as they move deadly fast.

I gulped and slowly take a step back, trying not to make any triggering sound. Yet the puddle my shoe just happen to step on betrays me, making a small noise yet loud enough for him to hear.

His body turned around, his greyish green eyes meeting mine in an instant, the way he holds his eye contacts never failed to make my heart thumps loudly, which I hated, knowing he can hear them with such ease. His presence always had it’s way to seduce me, it takes a lot in me to hold back the secret desire in me to feel him.

I’ve encountered Nikki Sixx a couple times before, sometimes when he’s playing with his band, sometimes in situations like this, often finding it easy to avoid him and the troubles he’d surely bring towards my way, even though he never went too far over flirting. But seems like today just wasn’t my luck as he immediately went to me and pinned me up against the alley’s wall.

My breath hitched as I look up at him, a small grin on his lips now, his sharp teeth just slightly peeking out. “Got you now..” He murmured, the proximity between us making me able to take a sniff of his intoxicating cologne, the scent filling my nostrils as if I just walked into a fragrance boutique.

“..I’m just trying to go home..” I say sternly in order to make my statement crystal clear to him. I try to keep my eyes on his, trying to make him think I’m not scared. Which, I am, partially that is. In a way, I don’t think he’d hurt me. The thing he does might be very unexpected, but one thing about him is that his true desires are visible right in those eyes of his like a window to his heart.

Nikki chuckled, rolling his eyes as he lean down close to my ears, his cold breath meeting right against my skin, sending shivers up my spine as I stiffen up. “Then why don’t you let me take you home?” His hands slowly make their way towards my hips.

I froze and clear my throat before trying to speak again, “I don’t—”

But before I knew it, he cut my words of protest off as he lifted me up and threw me over his shoulder before he start run.. really fast. I yelp and hold onto his head tightly, grasping onto his hair. “What the fuck, Sixx?!?” I screamed, punching his shoulder over and over again as if it’d stop him.

The not so humanlike speed he had in his run made my heart beat fast, afraid of falling off, even though the firm hold he have on my hips are supposed to be enough to keep from falling. “Slow down! Fuck!” I protest, holding onto him for dear life and closing my eyes.

“Oh you’ll scream that again later!” He laughed like a maniac. I blush when I realize what he meant, smacking his shoulder again in response. I can’t tell whether to be flustered or feel the need to kill him, thought the possibility of the latter seems very very impossible.

Next thing I knew, we came into a stop.

Slowly, my eyes starts to flutter open while Nikki lay me down on my bed.. I flinch and look around, shocked to find us in my bedroom in a flash of light. It felt like only 5 seconds ago we were still in that nasty empty alleyway.

“How the fuck—"

I was cut off yet again when Nikki made his way on top of me on the bed, he was hovering over my figure with that same devilish grin he wore the whole time.

My breath got stuck in the middle of my throat as he towers over my body and took the back of one of his hand to caress my cheek. “Don’t be afraid, I don’t bite.” He whisper, then he paused before chuckling to himself, his sharp fangs being shown even more clearly now. “Well woops, that one’s a lie.”

Though I tried so hard to act like he doesn’t intimidate me one bit. Yet of course, my heart beat was too easy for him to detect and use as a proof of my intimidation, along with the heavy breaths I let out, each noise his ears catches making his grin even wider and devilish.

The eyeliner around his eye made the color of his eyes even more lighter and intriguing, those green eyes of his so majestic with the moonlight that peeks from my window shining his way, illuminating and spotlighting every single features that face of his owns.

Each blink my eyes made, they open to a different vision of him, each new vision, another new breathtaking features of his takes ahold of my attention while he continued to grin down at my statue-like state.

“Let me have you..” His voice echoes in my mind, like a sweet seduction for me to open up my heart, to let my desire take over my body just like the way his own desire take over his body. “I’ll take.. very good.. care of you..”

When his face leaned down even more, my eyes slowly flutter close on it’s own, acting as a permission for him to take an act.

Next thing I know, his hands clawed on my clothes and rip them apart with his strong bare hands, meanwhile his lips immediately move to mine, his kiss already passionate and rough from the moment our lips touched, his movements driven by lust and a burning flame in him.

I always knew no matter how wild this man can be, there are always much more deeper and wilder layers to unfold within him. And that is exactly what I’m doing right now.

Something in me myself burned, as if he shared that flame with me through our locked lips. My hands tugged on his hair while small gasps leaves me when my body became fully exposed within minutes, the fabrics that once covered my body were thrown away, his cold hands roaming over my warm body, the difference between our body temperature only making things even more intense.

Suddenly, I feel his fangs sink into my bottom lip, wincing when he licked up the blood that leaks from my lip and pull back from me, smirking as he starts to undress himself.

“Nikki..” I softly whisper, squirming on the cold sheets.

His finger then meets my lips, sushing me while he slowly take off his clothes.

With each fabric removed, more of his pale skin reveals itself, seducing me to touch him. His clothes were thrown to the floor, joining my own pile of ripped up clothes. I watch his body silently, the tattoos he had on his arms, the way his chest rise and fall, the happy trail leading down to his hard cock.

Then back up to the grin on his face as he slowly spread my legs apart. He was so tempting, his hands as cold as ice while he touch me with such lust in his eyes.

With his cock in his hand, he lead it to my cunt and slipped it in with such ease, almost immediately taking control over my hips and thrusting in and out of me with a surreal speed.

I gasp and grasp onto the sheets around me, squirming at the feeling of his cock filling every spot in me, the pleasure building up inside of me and pushing out dirty noises from my lips, the noises that only made him grin even more, his fangs showing much clearly.

His thrusts were incredibly fast, too fast to the point I can’t even keep up any more with it, yet it haven’t even been 5 minutes since he’s been inside me. My eyes were already rolling to the back of my head, my lips apart as I moaned out his name.

“Nikki..! Fuck..! Slow down..!”

“Feel good huh?!” He laughed a sinister laugh that fills my ears.

“So good..!” I nodded and pant for breath, desperate to have control of myself again. But this man above me was way stronger and powerful than I am, he knew way too much how to please me, or rather please himself.

His cock continued to thrust in and out of my tight hole, our skin meeting each other each time he thrusts, creating a loud slapping noise that harmonize along with my moans and his groans.

I could tell that he was losing control over himself, his head thrown back and he was letting out the loudest groan ever before he lean down and bury his face in my neck.

I thought nothing of it until I feel those sharp fangs strikes blood again, this time on my neck while he suck on the blood desperately, tasting me. I wince and held onto his back, tears building up in my hazy eyes.

Another sinister laugh leave his lips as he connects his lips to mine, making me taste my own blood on his tongue.

One of his hand that was previously on my hips trails up to my chest, his fingernails lightly caressing over the skin of my chest, making me arch my back and yearn for more of his touch.

“Your heart.. it’s beating very loud..” I can practically hear the grin in his voice as his nails gently press against my skin, making me think his nails are going to sink into my skin and steal my heart that is uncontrollably pounding very fast and loud. “I bet it’s for me, hmm? No man can give you this much pleasure, yes?”

The feeling of his cock continuously hitting that special spot in me made it hard for me to even utter out a single letter.

“Answer me!”

“YES!!”

I moaned out, my fingernails creating a big scratch mark down his back, making him groan and laugh once more before accelerating his thrusts. “What a slut.. your little heart’s practically beating out of your chest.. and it’s all for me.. your heart’s all mine..”

The tension behind his voice and choice of words only made the pleasure more unbearable, my toes curling as my legs shake, his hands still taking full control of my hips. “Yes! Yes!” I continued to pant out, not even able to breathe correctly.

Suddenly, I can feel my walls close up around his member, squeezing him in as I feel a strong knot on my stomach, my eyes wide and filled with tears that now stains my cheeks. “I need to cum.. please please let me..” I beg, half sobbing.

“Let go, baby.” He then held my legs up and place them on his shoulders, pausing before he thrusts even faster now.

Screams escapes my mouth as his faster thrusts pulls out the strongest release from me ever, my back arching off the sheets beneath me while his hips’ movement slowly falters as he fills me up with his seeds, shooting in white streaks all around my hole before pulling out.

As I try to take control of my breathing, his body plopped onto the spot beside me, pulling me close to his chest. “Told you I’d take care of you..” He panted out with that same grin never leaving his face.

I scoffed out a chuckle and rest my head on his chest, still panting. “What.. Whatever..”

He was breathing heavily, his chest rising up and down just like mine is, though I did not hear a single heart beat the whole time I rest on his chest.

But I suppose that’s just what he is.

A cold-blooded creature with a once dead heart that’s been brought back to live.

[arthursfuckinghat]

The sun is your halo, for it is always above you.

Arthur and Weetabix 𑁦𐂂𑁦 Scarlett Meadows

[formulafics]

hi dae! maybe oscar or mick with a reader who gets caught falling asleep in their garage all the time? (sorry if this is too vague or anything!)

STARRING: OP81, MS47, LN4, CL16, LH44, MV1, FC43

WARNING(s): none 😚

AUTHORS NOTE: thank you for your request! i felt bad that it’s so short, so i added more drivers 🙏😞

MASTERLIST

Oscar thinks it’s funny and endearing. He’s a quiet guy, and honestly he, too, sleeps wherever the opportunity presents itself, so he just admires you a little more, when you do fall asleep. There’s always a cheesy grin that forms on his lips when he sees you snoozing in the confines of the garage.

Mick thinks its adorable, to be honest. Something about the fact that you can sleep so easily despite the chaotic atmosphere and loud noises is just cute to him, and you best believe he will 100% take pictures. He’d either keep them for himself, or post one on his close friends story (be it to show you off or tease you). Which, he also finds it incredibly amusing when you respond to said story, all salty about him having pictures of you absolutely passed out in the most inconvenient chair.

Speaking of taking pictures, you know Lando is going to be taking them. He’s 100% putting it in an instagram photo dump. He’d also put one of his merch items over you — imagine a hat thrown haphazardly onto your head, or his hoodie laid over your sleeping figure — and promote on his story, with a shoutout to “the best model”.

Charles is sleeping with you, based on his track record of falling asleep in the garage. Case closed.

Lewis wouldn’t think much of it, but he does think it’s a bit cute. The kind of man to lay his jacket over you and tell you to sleep well. However, he also gives me th vibes that he does NOT understand how tf you fall asleep.

Max would be most concerned about you being disturbed in your sleep. He’d also secretly find it cute, and would get caught trying to subtly take a picture — or multiple pictures — of you asleep.

Franco audibly coos at you, and is borderline more distracted by you sleeping in the garage than he is when you’re awake. You’re just so cute and all he wants to do is watch you have the best nap of your life in the garage.

💌 thank you for reading!

c . formulafics | 03/07/25’

[watergals]

@miidnighters sent: 3d (tate/tedi + mick as a bonus)

saying tedi doesn’t know how they got here would be a big lie. too many jokes, too many charged fleeting looks and a lot of mick’s cocky words are the reason tedi is kneeling on the bed (!!) on all fours. she has reached that relationship point with tate where having him behind her sparks arousal rather than fear.

the same can’t be said with mick, though.

she’s been quite vocal about wanting to suck his cock while tate fucks her crazy, but when it really came to having two large men, one of them she isn’t familiar with in a bedroom setting, looming over her tiny form she chickened out.

couple of sweet, reassuring words later from both of them and here they are.

mick’s huge body is plastered underneath tedi, his large knucles tease at tate’s slick hole as his big cock is flushed and wet and so snug in tedi’s little mouth.

a shaky, “ fuuck — , “ when tedi attempts to take him further. mick grins and smacks tate’s ass from underneath. “ fuck her stupid, big boy. come on. “ then his finger pushes inside tate’s pretty pussy.

[f1version]

MY GIRL ♥︎ MSC47

pairing: mick schumacher x girlfriend! reader ( she/her )

summary: mick loves his girlfriend, you love your boyfriend. you love each other on valentine’s day.

author’s note: this smau is chaotic, starts with silliness and ends with a piece of my heart, not much fuss. it’s short and sweet, not my best work but one i’ll remember for falling asleep finishing at 6am after surviving a long night at the lab, feeling incredibly tired. so, enjoy <3

love on top, a vday special ♥︎ general masterlist

now playing ♫₊⊹ my girl by the temptations

yourusername added to their story!

mickschumacher

angie would never do that to me

she knows you're mine

yourusername

the people you trust the most can betray you i fear

mickschumacher

good thing she's a dog 🥰

yourusername

i’m still hersssss

mickschumacher

then you’re mine because we share everything!!!!

yourusername

whatever you say baby

yourusername

Liked by mickschumacher, estebanocon and 287,470

yourusername 💐 season

February 13, 2024

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mickschumacher most stunning girl ever

yourusername i love u

mickschumacher me - 1 / angie - 0

yourusername MICK

mickschumacher 😍😍

user3 i really thought i would get here before mick

user7 you're so beautiful i CANT

user10 ONE chance ONE

mickschumacher 🤨🤨

user50 LMAO MICK

user04 he's shameless atp

user5 there’s a point in life you stop asking “can mick fight?” because you know he will

user87 ma'am i require outfit details

yourbestfriend can i get a flower 🤲🏼

yourusername ofc my luv 🌷

yourbestfriend thank you babe

user2 ＠yourbestfriend 🗣️BEWARE🗣️OF🗣️THE🗣️BOYFRIEND🗣️

mick schumacher’s likes

yourusername and mickschumacher added to their stories!

mickschumacher

Liked by yourusername, estebanocon and 398,625 others

mickschumacher Happy valentine’s day to the girl who lights up my world. My sunshine. My sweet girl. My purest love. Words will never summarize all you mean to me, you are so unique, so remarkably you. And if you asked me to try and put a name to what I feel, I’d remember this one quote: My heart is so full of you I can hardly call it my own.

I love you. You know I do. I’ve fallen for you and I still do every day. Beyond your boyfriend, I’ll always be someone you can count on. Today, tomorrow, in 10 years, in 50, forever. I will do everything I can to support and love you the way you deserve, appreciate you until I give my last breath. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me in these 3 years of partners and many more of friendship. Thank you for loving me so well, for teaching me what it means to love and be loved.

I hope you are my future as much (& more) as you are my present. Because from what I know about soulmates, you are mine ❤️

February 14, 2024

[xo-myloves]

༞༞༞༞༞༞𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃𝚂༞༞༞༞༞

𝚖𝚢 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎: @sugarrcherryys ♥︎

𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗!!

𝚃𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜: 𝚗𝚘 𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚛***, 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝... 𝙾𝚙𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐

𝙶𝚄𝙽𝚂 '𝙽' 𝚁𝙾𝚂𝙴𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁-𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

𝙼𝙾̈𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚈 𝙲𝚁𝚄̈𝙴 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁-𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

𝙼𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙰𝙽𝙴𝙾𝚄𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁-𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

𝙼𝚈 𝚁𝙰𝙽𝚃𝚂

𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛!!

𝚍𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚢

𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚢 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚜

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Slipknot x Nervous Flyer! Reader (FLUFF)

Hello! A couple days ago I got a request from a lovely Anon who's going to be flying for the first time! This is for you my friend, I hope your flight goes well! (I'm sure it will!) Just some quick little drabbles, I hope you enjoy! Should I start a Slipknot tag list? Let me know in the comments!

WARNINGS: None

My Masterlist! ~ Tip Jar! ~ AO3 Link!

Divider credit: @adornedwithlight

(No particular order to this list, just whoever's name I thought of first)

Corey:

Corey would notice you were anxious about your flight before you even got near the plane. He understood why; it was your first time traveling, the whole process was already a bit overwhelming if you weren't used to it, not to mention the airport was extremely busy on top of it, anyone would be stressed. He watches as you nervously bounced your leg, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you waited in line at TSA. “You know, I think I might rewrite the hook for that song we were working on.” He figured there was no better way to distract you than with something you both loved, music. Even just having the familiar topics of conversation seemed to put you more at ease, Corey every so often placing a hand to the small of your back or carefully taking you by the wrist to guide you where you needed to go. By the time you had gotten through TSA the two of you had already worked out the majority of a chorus for something you were working on.

You sighed as you collapsed into one of the hard chairs in the waiting area at the gate, taking a bite of the overpriced breakfast sandwich you had snagged along the way. “You seem a lot less nervous now.” Corey remarks with a playful smile. “It wasn't that bad, was it?”

“No,” you respond with a smile of your own, “not with you here, at least.”

“Well, lucky for you I'll be here the whole time.” He winks, making your cheeks grow warm. Corey silently promised himself he would be by your side through every trip after that.

Sid:

“What's wrong, sugar?” Sid slings an arm over your shoulders, noticing your tense state. You were currently waiting in line to board your plane.

“It's nothing, Sid, promise.” You tried to reassure him with a smile, but he wasn't buying it.

“Sure, that's why your shoulders are in your ears, right?” He asks with a smug smirk.

“Shut up.” You groan, embarrassed by the fact he had noticed you were nervous.

“Are you scared of flying?” He asks quietly, making sure the others didn't overhear.

“I'm just a little nervous, I've never been on a plane before.” You admit bashfully.

“Well, I've flown hundreds of times, and it’s always been a breeze.” He gently nudges your shoulder with his own, offering you a supportive smile. “We’ll get through it together, okay?” He scoops up your hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Okay.” You respond with a smile of your own, feeling a little bit better about your trip.

Chris:

You jump as a hand suddenly comes to rest on your forehead. “Easy, baby,” Chris starts with a chuckle, “it's just me.” He tries again with much better success, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead. “You're looking a little pale, are you alright?”

You tug nervously at your seatbelt, “I've just never flown before, I'm a little nervous.” Chris’s hand immediately slips into yours, giving it a supportive squeeze.

“You hold onto me as tight as you need to, okay? We’ll be there before you know it.” His bright smile puts you at ease. He fidgets with your fingers, answering any questions you had about the trip.

“Thank you for doing this, I know it's stupid.” You whisper.

“It's not stupid.” He reassures you. “You're trying something new and you're nervous.” He tugs you closer to him, letting your head fall to rest on his shoulder. “I happen to think you're being really brave.” He compliments you softly, making your cheeks grow warm. “You just try and relax, I'll keep you safe.”

Jim:

Jim noticed the moment your nerves started to set in about this trip, immediately taking charge in order to make the whole day easier for you. Whether it was a gentle hand to the small of your back in order to help maneuver you through crowds or offering small distractions to keep your mind off how anxious you were feeling. But, let’s be real, he needed that neck pillow that looked like a shrimp, the fact you wouldn't buy it for him was criminal.

Sitting on the plane, he would point out the window. He described how flaps on the wings would move to catch wind, the sound of them unbolting the walkway from the plane, what take off would feel like, anything to help put you at ease. “Feel free to hold my hand if you want to.” He offers with a wink and a playful smile. You can't help but giggle as you intertwine your fingers with his. You squeeze his hand tightly as the plane starts to move, “it's alright, I'm right here.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, holding both of your hands in his free one, keeping you tucked close to him as the plane takes off. He leans back so you can look out the window once you're up in the air. “It wasn't that bad, was it?”

“No, not with you here at least.”

Mick:

Mick thought you were mad at him. You were unusually quiet on the drive over to the airport, you kept your distance from everybody as you made your way through security, and now you were sitting by yourself staring out at the tarmac. Mick cautiously approaches you, unsure of what had happened to make you so upset, but desperately wanting to fix it. He sighs as he collapses into the chair at your side. “What did I do?” He asks simply.

“Nothing, honey.” And that was all it took for Mick to realize you weren't mad, you were nervous. You had a tremble in your voice that made it sound like you were about to cry.

Mick wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “Is it the trip in general or just going on the plane?”

It takes you a moment to respond. “Just going on the plane.” His thumb strokes soothingly over your shoulder.

“Well, I'm going to be right next to you the whole time, and you know I'd never let anything bad happen to you.” He gives you a patient smile. “There’s nothing wrong with being nervous, love. But, let me help instead of making me think you're gunna rip my head off, okay?” He chuckles.

“Okay.” You let out a laugh of your own, happy he was here to help you through this.

Joey:

You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding when Joey’s thumbs pressed soothingly into the tense muscles of your shoulders. “Nervous, love?”

“A little.” You admit quietly, not wanting the others to hear. “I've never flown before.” He spends a few moments giving your muscles the attention they desperately need.

“I promise, you've got nothing to worry about. After you fly a few times you're probably going to think it's funny you were so nervous to begin with.” He chuckles. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Just being with you is helping.” He smiles bashfully at the compliment.

“Good, looks like I'm doing my job then.” He wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

Paul:

You stared straight ahead at the seat in front of you, hoping the others wouldn't notice your rigid posture. You wince slightly as Paul quietly says your name from the window seat next to you. “Are you okay?” You nod, knowing if you looked at him he would be able to read you immediately. Of course, as it would turn out, Paul already knew the answer to his question, he just wanted to see how you would respond.

“You know, I'm also scared of flying.” He offers in an attempt to put you at ease.

“Really?” You respond after a moment. He nods, giving you a hum of affirmation in response.

“I used to make myself sick before getting on planes. I would get so stressed out.” He chuckles. “But, I promise, it's not going to be as bad as you think. The worst part is probably taking off and landing, the rest of it will be a breeze.” His gentle smile was enough to help you relax a little.

“I trust you.” You respond quietly. He holds out his hand, silently offering to let you take it for comfort. Your hand slips into his, your free arm looping through the crook of his elbow as you settle into his side, feeling a lot more prepared for the trip ahead.