#maybe we’ll get another season

[lokislittlesigyn]

I’m .. actually kind of sad there’s only one more episode of season 2. I didn’t realize how much I just missed him. Just plain missed him and wanted to see him - and the show having so much of him, it’s different from the films? I love all the characters but … he’s my favorite. :’)

[colberine]

911 moving to abc is a win in a buddie department

[happy74827]

Babeees love the rhys montrose x reader fic, can't wait for more. What are your plans for the other fics?

xx

AWWW IM SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT 💞💞 Writing him is so gosh darn difficult. Like I would type out his dialogue and try to read it in his accent and then question myself if he’d actually say that lmaooo

Regarding my other plans… it’s a very funny story. I legit have no idea 💀 My brain comes up with these random potential scenarios at like 3am and then it’s a 50/50 chance on whether it actually gets done. However, my strong will power and motivation to help populate this man on this app will overcome that (hopefully). I just have to be very VERY creative on the scenarios, given the canon storyline 👀

[holysainz]

silly season - lando norris

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

warnings: innuendos

summary: fans get a glimpse into your relationship on a stream

You walk into Lando’s gaming room, a cup of hot chocolate topped with tiny marshmallows in hand. His back is to you, headphones clamped over his head, eyes focused on the screen. Lando is always in his element when he's streaming — it’s a joy to see. But today, you’ve been the one tasked with interrupting him. Not that you mind, of course.

“Got your hot chocolate, sweetheart,” you startle him, setting the cup down beside him on the desk. You look at the screen, recognizing the familiar game of F1 2023. “Who’s winning?”

“Verstappen. But it’s just a virtual race,” Lando chuckles without taking his eyes off the screen.

“Ah, so you admit you’re losing?” You tease, earning a playful glare. You laugh at his mock annoyance, then start to saunter out of the room.

Before you can make your exit, however, Lando grabs your wrist, pulling you back. “Wait, I need you.”

You spin around, your eyebrows raised in surprise. His words hang in the air, and for a moment, a suggestive smirk plays on your lips. “Really, Lando? On a live stream?”

His cheeks flush as he quickly shakes his head, his laughter joining yours. “Not like that, you minx! I need you to stay here and distract the competition with your terrible driving.”

“Ah, so that's how it is,” you retort, grinning at his playful sidestep. “I’m your secret weapon now, am I?”

With a chuckle, he grabs the spare controller, throwing it to you. “Only the best for Team Norris.”

“Well then, prepare to lose!”

What you don’t realize is that Lando’s stream is live, and all his fans are eagerly watching the banter unfold.

Lando chuckles, setting up the second controller. “Oh, we’ll see about that.”

The race starts and immediately, it’s a comedy of errors. You’re not very good at the game to say the least and you crash into a wall within the first thirty seconds.

“Hmm, you do know the point is to avoid the walls, right?” Lando teases, his fingers moving deftly over the buttons of his controller.

You shoot him a feigned glare, and he laughs, his attention fixed on the screen as he smoothly overtakes one of the opposing cars. “Maybe you should stick to delivering hot chocolate, love.”

“No way,” you say stubbornly. “I’m going to beat you at your own game, Norris.”

“Ah, spoken like a true underdog!” He laughs, and the sound of it makes you grin, even as your car crashes into another wall.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the screen, Lando’s fans are loving every moment. Their favorite F1 driver showing his fun side, coupled with your charming wit, is an unbeatable combination.

The chat box fills with amused comments:

‘OMG, she’s hilarious!’ ‘Lando, you’re losing your touch!’ ‘Can we have her on every stream?’

Laughing and teasing each other, you keep trying to maneuver your car with minimal success. You playfully jab at Lando’s concentration, saying, “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be good at this?”

“I am good!” he protests, “Just not when you’re trying to distract me.”

“Oh, am I a distraction, Norris?” you ask, raising your eyebrows suggestively. “Is it because I make your gear stick shift?” The playful innuendo makes Lando choke on his laugh.

“A very attractive distraction, yes,” he responds, and it’s your turn to blush.

The comments explode:

‘Did he just—‘ ‘They are too cute!’ ‘I can’t even.’

Eventually, Lando wins the game, but not without a few crashes of his own. As you watch the virtual champagne spraying over his character, you say, “Well, you won. But I’d like to see you do this in real life.”

Without missing a beat, Lando responds, “What, win a race or put up with you?”

“You better keep it clean on the track, Norris,” you retort, giving him a sly wink. “Because the way you’re driving here, you won’t be able to handle the curves!”

You gasp dramatically when he laughs at your comment. “Lando Norris! I’ll have you know I’m a delight to put up with.”

He laughs, pulling you into a hug. “Yes, you are. You’re my favorite distraction.”

With that, Lando ends the stream, laughing at the barrage of comments from his fans. You sit there with him, sharing in his laughter, completely oblivious to the fact that you were just part of an international live stream.

But you don’t care. All that matters to you in that moment is Lando’s laughter, the warmth of his arm around you, and the joy of sharing these simple, perfect moments with him. And if his fans loved it too, well, that was just an added bonus.

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

analyzing some images (for fun)

so i found this pair of promotion images for good omens season 1 on the good omens reference library server and it’s hooked me so so bad im having feelings about it. we’re analyzing them now. not really for meta purposes just fun to see the parallels and differences :)

everything under the cut !

unique traits

aziraphale:

1) his plank background. its older, its crisp, it smells like wood from the screen. mmmm

2) the pencil shavings at the bottom. he does a lot of writing honestly, so i like this. also adds a messy and cozy vibe he always seems to have in that shop…. i like that blessed shop fr

3) his SUSHI. little soy sauce drops near it too—just the right amount of deliberate mess. our first formal introduction to aziraphale in the present day and beginning the Tomfoolery just happens to have sushi... i watch that scene and i go “yeah, that sums up aziraphale i suppose” very nicely. (they dont have sushi Up There) (im literally never gonna forget that)

4) the ray of light shining on the scene. tiny thing, but a bit of the heaven is peeking through..it also sort of blurs the whole image but i think thats just me.

5) and we’ve saved the best for last: the big whopper. the nice and accurate prophecies of agnes nutter, witch. I LOVE THAT BOOK!!!!!!! i cant remember if that ring stain was there but if it isnt in the show on the actual book i’d assume thats to add that ‘thy cocoa doth grow cold’ thing. ALSO. you know what’s being used as a bookmark in the pages?? a check for the ritz. he bookmarked their one chance for living . with a ritz check . MMMMMM. my GOD. that means so much to me even if i cant convey it in words. he KEEPS THE CHECKS 😭😭😭😭😭😭

crowley:

1) let me get my favorite out of the way. crowley’s glasses have fire in their reflection. we’ll talk about the glasses themselves later but the REFLECTION IN THEM. fucking FIRE, BOOKSHOP fire, PAIN, SRIVING THROUGH THE M-25, HELL, I DONT KNOWIM HAVING FEELINGS!!! i do believe this is a bookshop fire reference though, the flames feel too Familiar. the lengths people will go to to attack others 🤧

2) the leather seat background!!!!!!! probably meant to look similar to the bentley’s seats but i cant recall their texture, exactly. maybe just meant to convey modernness—unsure. still, its there <3

3) the tiny little crisp plant </3 its trying his damned best to stay perfect. it might a specific plant that means something, but i cant tell at thsi angle, so i’ll assume its a mini version of the ficus he keeps in the flat. its so SMALL and sitting in ANOTHER POT i CANT

4) the snake slithering!! black and red (in this image it looks orange lol) bellied scales!!!! slithering there, chilling, being crowley, showing hints. love it

5) QUEEN RECORD!!!!! TRYING TO OVERRIDE IT WITH TCHAIKOVSKY!!!!!! the tape over it does a reminisence to crowley’s handwriting, but in a clean ‘this made made to be a font’ way. not exactly just yet. ive become a fan of tchaikovsky recently. amazing darling wonderful crowley, trying to push the rock up the hill for eternity 😞

6) HIS LITTLE DEMON KEY THING. HOLDING A TINY LITTLE BENTLEY CAR KEY OHHH. thats how he doesnt lose the tiny key despite probably not needing one of those. and he CHOSE that intentionally probably. little wings and red circle….URGHHHHHHH

similarities

mmmmm now here’s the good shit. similarities! i’ll bullet point most of them but ohhhhh. ohhhh these. i’ll go from top to bottom as best i can….

1) one of their shoes, obviously. crowley has them iconic snakeskin shoes while aziraphale has his old loafers like the old loafer he is /pos

2) chateauneuf de pape wine bottle labels! (crowley’s is under his glasses, aziraphale’s is next to his shoe). oh my fucking god theyre MATCHING. the labels are old, battered, of course labeling the drink’s age, but mmmmm its these tiny details that get me going….

3) their respective drinks in their mugs—crowley’s a black mug coffee (or what looks to be coffee) and aziraphale’s angel mug tea (or what looks to be tea). i think about that mug sometimes. where did he get that from?? mystery for the ages….

4) their glasses, of course. crowley’s iconic sunglasses and aziraphale’s reading spectacles. i cant really tell the reflections in this pair, but if its supposed to be fucking fire, im done with this. im giving up forever

5) their own watches! aziraphale’s is visibily older while crowley’s is visibly modern, but they function just the same. also, crowley’s is set to 2:56:59 (presumably PM), which is around the time we see when crowley starts checking his watch at warlock’s birthday party. its almost time for disaster to strike!! 😃

6) and finally….their ties!! they have their own ties!!! or more accurately, neck accessories, but i digress. i mesn i assume its crowley’s neck tie, because the fabric looks… different. either way, crowley’s neck thingie is very whispy and aziraphale has his funky little bowtie i love so much,,,

okay thats it. there’s no canonical implications, any fantheories, none of the sort. just saw a pair of images and my mind went GOD DAMN!!!!!! theyre very important to me. i need to look at more promo material 😔

[starkwlkr]

Is there coming a part 3, then maybe where Charles becomes worldchampion? And celebrates with his daugther Ruby and his wife yn?

cool dad | charles leclerc

more baby leclerc content!! manifesting this happens irl if not i will be jumping off the nearest cliff 😝🫶🏼

Ruby couldn’t contain her excitement. She danced around in the hotel room to music coming from her mom’s phone, Y/N making sure her phone was locked before leaving it around Ruby.

“And I am a material girl!” Ruby jumped in the bed as Y/N finished her makeup in the bathroom. Charles was already gone. He was nervous, anyone could tell. Today was the last race of the season, the race that would determine if by the end of the night he was going to be world champion.

“Mama! Play it again!” Ruby said as she continued jumping.

“Ruby Jules, did you find the dress you want to wear?” Y/N asked. Recently Ruby was going through that phase where she didn’t want either of her parents to dress her, she wanted to do it on her own. Her clothing hooves mainly consisted of mix matched socks, bright colored shirts and once she even wore her fairy dress that she always wore on her birthday to the Spanish Grand Prix.

“I want grand-mère to dress me.” Ruby stopped jumping.

“Oh, okay. She should be here soon so just pick out your clothes and she can dress you when she gets here.” Y/N said and grabbed her phone from the night stand. She hoped Charles wasn’t too busy to answer her call.

“Yes, my lovely wife that didn’t give me a morning kiss.” Charles spoke into the phone.

“You’re so dramatic, Perceval. I’m just calling to let you know that we’ll be at the paddock in an hour. You have everything you need, right? You’re not missing anything? Lucky socks? Lucky shirt?” Y/N listed off as she continued her makeup as she put the phone on speaker.

“Just my lucky wife and daughter.” Charles replied.

“Aw that’s cute. Didn’t know you had another one. Is she cute?” Y/N joked. From a distance she could hear Ruby talking to herself about which dress she wanted to wear.

“Yeah, Pierre is cute, but not as cute as you.”

“Mama! Grand-mère is here!” Ruby yelled as Pascale opened the door to the hotel room, Lorenzo, Arthur and Carla entered behind her.

“I have to go, Love. I’ll see you soon, world champion.” Y/N said.

“Stop, you’re going to jinx it.” Charles chuckled.

“No, I’ve been manifesting. I even went to a crystal shop before this trip. You’re going to be world champion, Charles Leclerc.” Y/N said witch much confidence.

“I love you, mon amour.” Charles replied. He hoped his dream would come true. It would mean so much to him seeing his daughter watch him become world champion.

“I love you the most, Perceval.” Y/N said then ended the call. Ruby then ran into the bathroom to show her mom a dress that Pascale has bought her so she could wear it to the race. “It’s beautiful, baby.”

“That’s what I told grand-mère!” Ruby smiled and ran back to the room. It was still too early, but there was no stoping the little girl.

Y/N stepped out of the bathroom, all dressed up and ready to go. “Hi, how are you?” Carla asked, kissing Y/N’s cheek to greet the mom.

“Nervous, but excited. Ruby’s even more excited.” Y/N nodded as she went up to every single member of the Leclerc family and kissed their cheek.

Pascale chuckled. “Did you see the dress I got Ruby? I saw it last week in the store and I just knew she would love it!”

Everyone looked at Ruby who was still jumping on the bed, but this time she had the dress in her hands.

“Ruby, careful. Come on, you said you wanted grand-mère to help you put your dress on. We have to go see papa race.”

Ruby took Pascale’s hand and led her grandmother to the bathroom so she could change. Carla and Y/N catched up on their lives while the two Leclerc men kept up with pre-race interviews on their phone.

“Y/N, they’re asking Charles about Ruby.” Arthur showed the phone screen to his sister-in-law.

“You’ve got a little girl, Ruby Jules-” Charles interrupted the interviewer.

“Right. But everyone knows her as baby leclerc and she loves the name. I was the one that gave her that.” Charles smiled proudly.

Charles had spoken to Y/N after Ruby’s whole instagram live video. Of course everyone knew Ruby’s name by now and that was something Y/N never wanted to be out in the first place. She at least wanted her daughter’s life to be private since hers and Charles was far from it.

“And is she excited about today? Does she understand that her dad could be world champion?”

Oh, Ruby understood more than that. In school, she had told her friends and teachers that her dad was already world champion. Of course that wasn’t true, (Not yet at least) but the little girl was so proud of her dad that she knew he could be world champion.

“Yeah, she has watched most of the races. She knows quite a few things actually, which surprises me because she mostly watches cartoons and listens to pop songs. But yeah, she even caught on with the whole forza charles and says it to me before every race even if she’s not here she makes her mother call me.” Charles explained.

“Forza Charles or Forza dad?”

“A bit of both. Charles when she’s excited so mostly I hear forza Charles coming from my daughter. It’s funny.”

The first time Ruby ever said that to her dad was in Silverstone. After hearing his daughter say those meaningful words, he pushed through and ended up on the podium.

“Mama! Look!” Y/N stopped looking at the screen to turn around to see her daughter in her new dress. Ruby twirled and did a pose which caused both uncles to take their phones out and snap photos of their niece.

“Where’s your grand-mère?” Y/N asked when she noticed Pascale wasn’t out of the bathroom yet.

“She wanted to ask you something. I think she wants to borrow some makeup.” Ruby ran to tackle her uncles by jumping on them.

Y/N nodded and went into the bathroom to see Pascale waiting for her. “Ruby said you wanted to ask me something.”

“Yes, I know I shouldn’t have looked around but Ruby wanted a little makeup from the bag so I grabbed some of yours and I found this.” Pascale handed her a pregnancy test that had the words positive on the little screen. “I’m sorry, I know this isn’t how you wanted me to find out.”

“Pascale, don’t be sorry. You had to find out sooner or later. I put it here because Ruby knows not to touch my makeup bag.” Y/N chuckled. “I’m planning on telling Charles after he becomes world champion.”

“And he will.”

Charles would think that the two mothers made some kind of magic to make him win or that Y/N was actually serious about using crystals. Whatever it was, he was grateful because it got him an unforgettable moment.

“Charles Leclerc, you are world champion!”

Fireworks went off making Ruby cheer at the bright colors. She pointed at the right lights in the sky as Lorenzo held her in his arms. She was amazed until Lorenzo pointed at the Ferrari crossing the finish line that belonged to her father.

“That’s papa!” Ruby screamed.

Charles couldn’t wait to hug his family. After years and years of hard work, his dream of becoming world champion had finally come true. This moment was for him, for his father, for Jules, for Anthoine.

“When can I see papa?” Ruby asked her mom, who was standing beside Lorenzo.

“I’m not sure, chérie. Papa has a lot of people congratulating him. We’re going to see papa celebrate.” Y/N explained to the girl.

The family walked to get a good spot to see the podium ceremony. Checo was given his third place trophy while Max received his second place trophy. Finally, the moment everyone had been waiting for, Charles receiving his world championship trophy. Lorenzo raised Ruby a bit higher so she could cheer for her dad. Arthur made sure to capture everything on video.

That night hearing the Monaco national anthem was something special. This was different. A good different.

Y/N stared at her husband with proudness. He worked extremely hard every year just for that moment. She clapped alongside everyone as Charles celebrated. Y/N wiped away a tear once Charles spotted his family. He blew several air kisses to where they were.

“Mama, he saw us!” Ruby excitedly said.

“And for the last time this year, the celebration!”

Les Toreadors started playing as all three drivers grabbed their bottle of champagne and started spraying each other. After a few seconds, Charles made his way to where the Ferrari team were and sprayed them.

“Is that juice?” Ruby asked.

“Yes, but it’s the kind that you can’t drink.” Arthur tried explaining.

“Why?”

“Because you can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s for adults.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh!”

Having Arthur around was like having another child. At least Ruby didn’t get bored with her uncle Arthur.

It felt like hours trying to get ahold of Charles since everyone was congratulating him on his championship. Ruby was the first to hug him since she ran to him at full speed.

“You did it, papa!” Ruby smiled brightly at her dad as she hugged him.

“It’s because of you. You gave me forza, remember? This is all you.” Charles hugged her tighter as he walked to his family waiting for him.

“Forza papa!” Ruby yelled. Charles set the girl down.

“mon beau garçon!” Pascale cried out as Charles hugged her. “Your father is proud of you forever.”

Charles couldn’t hold his tears in. This special moment was supposed to be celebrated with his whole family, but one special person was missing.

“Congratulations, little brother!” Lorenzo joined in on the hug as well as Arthur, Carla, Y/N and Ruby.

“Ice cream after?” Ruby suggested making everyone laugh. The hug was broken up, but Y/N still held onto her husband.

Pascale knew what the woman was going to do so she whispered to her sons and Carla to let them have a moment. “Come, Ruby, let’s go find ice cream.” Arthur grabbed Ruby’s hand.

The couple stayed in each others arms for a bit. Charles certainly didn’t want the night to end. He eventually let go of his wife to kiss her lips. “I did it, mon amour.” He said after kissing her.

“I’m beyond proud of you, Charles. Everyone is. You deserve this more than anyone.” Y/N kissed Charles once more.

“This feels like a dream.” Charles admitted. “Be honest, on what lap did you take out your little crystals to make me win?”

Y/N laughed and playfully smacked his arm. “I didn’t. I knew you wouldn’t need any type of crystals to help you win. You’re Charles Leclerc, you’re world champion.”

“That sounds so beautiful coming from you.” Charles whispered as he grabbed ahold of her waist. “Would it be bad if we leave Ruby with maman and you and I can properly celebrate?”

“Calm down, world champion. If we go out, I probably won’t be much fun.” Y/N said. Charles raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Just to remind you what happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas.”

“I am still trying to understand-”

“I’m saying Ruby might fight her new sibling over the baby leclerc title in nine months because I’m pregnant.”

“Oh!” Charles understood.

“Yeah, we are never going back to Vegas if it ends up with me being knocked up.”

“It’s Vegas, baby!”

[bad268]

a kimi story where the reader is ollie’s sister and they’re a secret and ollie finds out please

Impromptu Meeting (Andrea Kimi Antonelli X Bearman! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (AHHH I LOVE THIS)

Warnings: Making out, brief sex joke (if you squint)

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1253

Summary: Maybe sharing a room wasn't a good idea...

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

It was not how you imagined introducing your boyfriend to your family, let alone your brother.

You were supposed to be there to support Ollie (which you were!), and it wasn’t like you were sneaking off to another garage or wearing another team’s kit. Thankfully, Kimi had signed to Prema at the beginning of the season, so that was not something you needed to worry about. 

When you first met Kimi through a mutual friend, he did not know your brother. Granted, you only introduced yourself by your first name, but drivers stuck with drivers. You assumed he knew that you were associated with one of the drivers. It wasn’t until the middle of the Formula 2 season that Kimi finally made the connection.

You had stayed up the entire night before, catching up on assignments you had been putting off in order to spend more time with Kimi. You had traveled to the track a few days early to meet with him, and you told your family it was for a school trip. You would meet them at the track by Thursday. 

It was currently Wednesday, and you were cuddling with Kimi in your hotel room. You may or may not be struggling to stay awake, but that was not really a problem since Kimi had done all of the promotional things he needed to do that morning. Plus, the whole team, namely one of their drivers, was not there yet, so they did not want to get too far ahead without the rest of the team. 

You were watching some random lifetime movie on the television as you laid on Kimi’s chest. He may have been reading race strategies, but you were not going to force him to pay attention to the movie when you weren't paying attention anyway. You were more captivated with listening to his heartbeat and watching his concentration focus on the piece of paper. At one point, you moved up a little to lay your head on his shoulder, so you could look at the paper too. Despite growing up surrounded by racing, you still could not understand most of the strategies for the life of you.

“Y’know,” You broke the silence as you shifted your attention to his face. He looked down at you, his concentration being broken as soon as you moved, but he did not say anything. “I really wish I understood any of that jargon. Sometimes I wish I could read it and think ‘Ah, yes! This will be a one-stop race and we’ll pit for mediums.’ I really do sometimes.”

“I thought you just liked the sport,” Kimi laughed as he set the papers to the side. “You really don’t care about the behind the scenes or the strategies. You like cars going fast, and you like the people in the cars.”

“Sometimes, I really wish you didn’t know me as well as you do,” You giggled as you leaned up to peck his lips. He reciprocated immediately, pulling you onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around your back to hold you to him. Your lips moved in sync for who-knows how long, and you were only broken apart by the sound of bags being dropped on the floor. That’s when you finally pulled apart, thinking it was Kimi’s dad or Anthoine, but no. It was Ollie with his jaw on the floor and his hand over his eyes. You moved away from Kimi and approached Ollie, but it’s not like he could see you. You approached him cautiously, reaching out your hand, “Ollie, I can explain.”

To say Kimi was confused would be an understatement. He knew Ollie was going to come today, but why would you need to explain to Ollie? The Prema boys almost always shared a hotel room. He had walked in on Ollie with a few people, so why was he reacting this way when the tables were turned?

“I don’t need to see this!” Ollie complained as he turned around and walked back into the hallway. 

“Ollie, wait,” You followed after him, causing Kimi to also climb out of the bed, wanting to get to the bottom of this. He grabbed a keycard just in case as he followed you both toward the stairwell and out to the back of the hotel. “Ollie, please. Give me a chance to explain.”

“You and my teammate? Really?” Ollie sighed, turning around to face you. It did not sound like a disappointed sigh, just a confused one. You could work with that. “Why my teammate? Also, I thought you had a boyfriend!”

“I do! It’s Kimi,” You explained as you moved to stand in front of Ollie. “It’s been Kimi this whole time. We’ve been seeing each other since Paul and I went to the FRECA race at Mugello last year but became official after Hockenheim.”

“All this time I thought you liked Paul,” Ollie commented to himself, but it caused you to laugh. “What?”

“I’ve been around Paul for too long,” You laughed, finally letting out a breath you had been holding. “He’s like a brother too much.”

“Hey! You already have a brother! Don’t go replacing me already!” Ollie protested, and that caught Kimi’s attention. He had been hiding by the stairs, watching you two converse in the parking lot, but at that point, he could not hold back his shock.

“Brother?” He said out loud on accident, causing both of you to look at him. He never realized how similar you looked until that moment. Not identical, but now that you both stood side-by-side, looking at him, it was fairly obvious that you were siblings. “You’re related.”

“Maybe,” You chuckled at the look on his face. Just as much, maybe more, shock than when Ollie saw you and Kimi. 

“Yeah, that’s my younger sibling,” Ollie said as he pointed at you before brushing past you to walk up to Kimi. “I get that you’re my teammate, but if you screw this up, I will push you off the track.”

“You’re not gonna forbid me from dating your sibling?” Kimi was confused, but he would accept it with open arms if it meant he got to stay with you.

“No,” Ollie sighed with a smile. “I’ve heard enough about how well you treat them, so I’m not concerned. Don’t make me concerned, Andrea.”

“I’ll try my best,” Kimi replied back with a smile as Ollie pulled him into a hug. Having your older brother’s approval was something you always wanted, so you smiled as well. 

“Oh, one more thing,” Ollie started as he turned to look at you, still standing in the spot you were at previously. You slowly walked over to join the two. Ollie turned from smiley to downright serious in the blink of an eye; it almost scared you. “I don’t wanna walk in on you making out ever again.”

“Then, the same rule goes to you,” Kimi joked back, causing you to gape at Ollie.

“You’re making out with people? Ew.” You jokingly pushed away from Ollie, wiping your hands on your shirt.

“You did the same thing! Don’t even try to flip this on me!” Ollie tried to defend

“I have a feeling we should not be sharing a room anymore,” Kimi trailed off to himself as he slowly started moving towards the stairwell again.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Andrea?” Ollie accused as Kimi took off up the stairs. “No! Get back here! We’re not done with this conversation!”

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[gentlyweeps-world]

sunkissed

summary: you and sarge take one last trip to miami.

pairing: logan sarge x fem!reader

warnings: suggestive tones | alcohol consumption

genre: angst | fluff | smau

words: 1.4k

notes: back to logannn

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

You and Logan agreed to stay together until the season started, you weren’t sure why, but you did.

It was slightly awkward, it’s not that you two didn’t love each other, it was just a bad time. Him with the pressure to deliver, and well you were scared that you would hold him back.

But you guys didn’t want to cancel your trip to Miami, it was tradition for you two. Go to the resort you guys first met and spend the week with each other.

You didn’t want to skip that.

You let out a hum as you wait for Logan to grab the keycard for your room, glancing around at all of the families with their kids- or the couples on honeymoons.

Logan walks back towards you with the keycard, handing it to you before he holds your hand and pulls you towards the elevator. He told you it was a one room suite.

“I’ll let you have the bed today- and I can take the couch.” He says with a soft smile, grabbing your hand and leading you guys to the elevator.

“We can share- it’s not like things are over yet..” You say softly, following him into the elevator as he presses the button for your floor.

“Are you sure?....” He says as he glances down at you- you could tell he was thinking a lot, he was trying his best to not cause problems between you two, the last thing he wanted to do was upset you.

“Yeah it’s alright..” You say with a smile, “Let’s just enjoy this last trip, yeah?”

“Yeah....” He smiled as the elevator dinged- he was glad for a chance to just be with you, no drama, just two people who love each other- enjoying another trip together, even if it would be the last one.

He squeezes your hand gently, glancing down at you once more before he leads you down the hall to the room.

“So..do you want to go to the beach before our dinner reservations or do you want to go to the boardwalk?” You ask, setting your suitcase down as you stretch out your arms.

“Probably the beach... just some one on one time...get a little sun before dinner, ya know?” Logan nodded, his hands found their way around your waist, you both hadn't said it- but you both didn’t want it to end.

It needed to be fixed, but you weren’t going to fix it, because we love self-sabotage!!

“Alright..let’s head!” You say with a smile, grabbing his hand, your room key, and wallet, heading out of the resort to the beach.

Logan squeezed your hand as you two hit the sand, there were a few people but they all were just sitting in the sun- or taking a dip in the ocean.

The sun was shining, the water was warm,“This is the good life, eh?” He asked as he looked around with a smile on his face.

“Yeah..yeah it is..” You say with a smile, squeezing his hand gently. You glance over at him for a moment, admiring how he looked in the sun- how his sunglasses looked on him.

“We should do this more often... the beach.” He smiles as he glances over at you.

“Maybe next summer we come back here, just the two of us?” He suggested, it was nice to think about plans...even if they weren’t certain.

“Maybe Log, we’ll have to see how things go..” You say, bumping into him as you two walk along the sand, taking in the sun.

He chuckles softly a he bumps into you as well, your skin feeling warm against his bare skin.

“Yeah... I guess you’re right... let’s just worry about the now.” He smiles as he takes a couple steps, sitting down in the sand while he takes off his shoes and lets his feet dig into the sand.

“I want to enjoy this moment with you... just you and me, no stress. Just relaxation.” He smiles.

“That’s the spirit..” You say with a chuckle, taking off your own shoes and getting down next to him in the sand.

You and Logan sat there in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence while you too relaxed in the sun- the occasional sound of waves crashing against the sandy shore and seagulls.

Logan let out a soft chuckle, “This is nice...I always miss it” He smiles.

“Yeah..” You say softly, leaning your head on his shoulder.

Instagram

youruser posted to their page

Liked by logansargeant and others

youruser one last trip 🙃

Comments on this post have been limited

logansargeant soaking up the rays ☀️🤍

logansargeant sand is everywhere

alex_albon this is very American

oscarpiastri extremely American

youruser 🦅🦅

alex_albon please get me tourist stuff

logansargeant no

williamsracing One of our favorite couples in the 305 😎

youruser 💙💙

jv.f1 Make sure to put on sun cream! 🧴

youruser Of course James! 🫶

lilymhe were was my invite 🤨

youruser whoops!! better go yell at logan!!

carmenmmundt too cute 💛💛

youruser thank you carm 🫶🫶

You let out a giggle as you put your phone down, looking back at the view in front of you, which was Logan and a gorgeous sunset.

Logan looked great, granted he always does, but he was sunkissed with that glow, he looked gorgeous.

“James is such a dad, he’s so cute..” You say with a smile, because after all, he was a great guy.

“He is a great guy- he always looks out for us….” Logan smiles softly, he was thankful for James, the man knew what was right and what was wrong, he was a caring individual and treated Logan as an equal.

He sighed as he took in the view, there was a slight ache in his heart, knowing it was your guys’s last trip.

You smile at his words, shifting in your seat. The sun was fully set by now, the stars and moon shining. You look around at the restaurant patio adorned with twinkle lights and tiki torches, you’ve been to this place so many times, but it all felt different.

“God we got so many memories here... remember the time you puked all over the table?” Logan asked playfully, he didn’t mention how he had cleaned you up- and how he took care of you until you fell asleep.

“Oh my god!” You say with a groan, recalling the memory. “That was your fault in all fairness, I said I didn’t want to go tubing before we went out to eat!”

“What? You looked hot on the tub! Plus I wanted to have some fun before we ate!” He sighs, it wasn’t exactly a fun moment, he thought you had just eaten too much but no, you puked in the middle of the restaurant.

“It wasn’t my fault! It wasn’t!” He adds on jokingly, laughing softly and putting his hands up in defense.

“It was totally your fault and you know it..” You say with a grin, grabbing your drink, which was some random fancy expensive vodka mixture, and taking a sip of it.

“Fine, maybe I’m to blame- but you looked so hot on the tube!” He says playfully, before chuckling softly as the waiter brings your food.

“Oh whatever just eat..” You mutter out with a grin.

Instagram

youruser posted to their story

lilymhe replied to your story

lilymhe girl…

youruser LILY I KNOW OKAY

lilymhe It’s going to hurt more

youruser I know, I just wanted to enjoy it a bit more

You and Logan stumble into your suite, you weren’t sure what time it was, you also weren’t sure how drunk you were.

Maybe you guys had a little bit too much to drink, and maybe you guys spent way too long sitting and talking about anything and everything to just buy more time, even if you had six more days together.

You heard the door lock behind you two, Logan smiled softly as he led you over to the bed.

He sat down, pulling you down onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your body closer to him.

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair, messing up how he had it styled.

“One more time..?” You whisper out, eyes meeting his in the dark.

He smiled, his heart racing as he stared into your eyes- his body tensed and he nodded, “One more time…” He whispered back, his body reacting before he even had a chance too, you were his weakness.

You woke up the next morning with a pounding headache, curled up into Logan’s side with nothing on.

You blink your eyes open slowly, laying there as you take in everything. You move onto your side, admiring Logan as he slept.

He looked peaceful, adorable even. His skin was incredibly sunkissed, and it looked good.

He stirred a little in his sleep, grabbing you and pulling you closer to him, he buried himself in your hair and pulled you closer to him.

You were the only thing on his mind, he didn’t care how bad it would end- but he had you right now, and that’s all he cared about.

“You’ll watch me right, Y/n? Cheer me on still..?” He asks out sleepily, probably only half awake.

“Of course Log, I’ll always cheer you on” You respond, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him in tight.

It was going to be a few bittersweet days.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

notes: I do plan on making a sequel don’t worry 🫶 leave any requests or comments!! should be posting a few more things soon 🤍

permanent taglist: @cixrosie @amajixi @i-wish-this-was-me @nelly187 @hannahwsworld @sltwins @itsprashimusic

[dilemmaontwolegs]

The Best Kept Secret on the Grid || Part Two

GR, CL, MV, LH x fem!reader Warnings: angsty drivers, more filth (masturbation, smut) WC: 3k F1 Masterlist || Part One || Part Two || Part Three

“Oh my word, what is going on?” David Croft, the official F1 commentator, was aghast at what he was seeing on the track in front of him and his voice echoed across the paddock from the loudspeakers. “This is looking like a repeat of Australia and nobody wants to see that again.”

You slunk down in your seat and pulled your hat further down your head. Maybe sending those nudes hadn’t been the best idea. It had been four weeks since the last race and to say you were feeling needy was a massive understatement. You hadn’t been able to stop yourself from sending your men some enticing pictures before the race.

“And there goes Gasly, into the gravel. We’ll have to see the replay on that but I think it was his own teammate that made contact with him. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it was Alpine on Alpine going into the corner and now Gasly will have a lot of time to make up for it. Ocon will be lucky if he doesn’t get a penalty for that aggressive move.”

You looked at the place board and saw the seven drivers who had already retired from the turbulent race. Max was one of them, and he was pissed.

You shoved the phone back in your purse and cheered with the rest of the grandstand as Lewis passed by, holding first position with 12 laps to go. Right on his tail was Charles but the real battle was taking place behind him for the third step on the podium. 

It was a dog fight between Fernando, Esteban and Lando with less than a second separating each car. You screamed louder than anyone else as they shot past the lap line and a few heads turned your way but you ignored them. You weren’t even in bed and these guys were making you scream. 

Another lap passed without incident but then the fight for third took a dangerous turn when Lando pushed Fernando wide and Esteban tried to take advantage by slipping past on the inside. Fernando ended up grazing his car along the wall while Lando thought he was in the clear only to clip the front wing of Esteban’s car and the two of them careened off the track. 

Shock rippled through the crowd as another three cars were retired and their drivers were pulled apart by the marshalls that were trying to clear the track under a red flag. It was messy and you could almost taste the testosterone in the charged atmosphere.

“I don’t even have words to describe this race,” David commented. “That will be the third restart and what a change that makes to the standings. We have Hamilton in P1, Leclerc P2, Stroll P3, followed by Sainz, Russell, Gasly, then miraculously both Williams’ and AlphaTauri’s drivers are almost guaranteed those much needed but elusive points - if they can just stay on the track and cross the finish line in one piece.”

You couldn’t sit and listen to the spectators around you any longer. They all asked variations of the same question - what the hell had happened to the drivers? Blue balls was the answer. That’s what had happened after four weeks with no racing: all those explosive male hormones were building and building, and your nudes had struck the match.

You had been messaging most of the guys over the mid-season break, exchanging scandalous messages and promises of what they could do the next time they were on the podium, but you had stopped short of meeting up with any of them - no matter how much they begged. Your pussy hated you for denying it the pleasure but the waiting only increased the anticipation and made the climax all the better. 

Plus the teasing was fun.

You slipped out of the grandstand and made your way to the motorhomes behind another fence for security. Ever since that first wild night you had received a Paddock Pass for every race and become a familiar face to the teams, though they never knew the extent of your ‘friendships’ with the drivers. 

“Max isn’t here,” Tommy said just as you reached the door to the luxurious motorhome. 

You winked at the Red Bull assistant and pressed a finger to your lips. “I’m just leaving him a commiseration gift. It’s a surprise, so no blabbering.”

The busy man left with a shake of his head and you closed the door behind you, sliding the bolt into place so no unexpected visitors could interrupt you. 

Max’s bed was made with the precision you would expect from someone trained in the military, not a racer, and there wasn’t a single crease in the duvet cover. 

“You’re such a perfectionist,” you muttered before jumping onto the bed and messing it up. His scent still clung to the pillow and you grabbed it as you rolled onto your knees, shoving it between your legs before hiking your dress up to your waist. 

You grabbed your phone and set it up against the headboard as you hit record. “I’m going to miss you tonight, Maxy.” You sucked on your fingers before trailing them down your body and pushing your panties aside. “It could’ve been you I was riding.” 

You moaned as you ground yourself shamelessly over your fingers and his pillow. Your head fell back and you grabbed your throat, gently squeezing it as your eyes fluttered shut. 

“Oh, Max,” you cried out, rolling your hips faster until the wet sounds of your pussy filled the air and were definitely picked up by the microphone. “You’re going to dream of me tonight when you lay your head on this pillow. It’s going to make you so hard, you’re going to fuck your hand and imagine it’s my cunt squeezing you tight until you explode.”

Your words ignited the orgasm that had been building and you cried out as you came all over his pillow. Your body shuddered from the aftershocks and you tasted the release on your fingers, knowing it would drive him wild when he saw it. “Sweet dreams, Maxy.”

You made it back to the grandstand in time to see the final lap and you were on your feet screaming with the rest of the crowd as Lewis crossed the finish line first, soon followed by Charles and Carlos. You were giddy at the thought of sharing the three of them later and joined the mass of people as they began to make their way down to the track that was opening to the public.

You were well versed at having to push your way through the crowd and you knew you had time to get to the front since the winners were still on the big screen having their post-race interviews. You were only half listening to them as you inched your way closer to the stage. 

“There was a very competitive atmosphere out there today, why do you think that was?”

Carlos and Charles looked at each other before looking down to hide the knowing grin they shared but it was Lewis that answered the interviewer.

“I mean first and foremost it is a race, so it will always be competitive. But, I think, for me at least, it’s been a long four weeks off the track and we were all eager to get back behind the wheel and more importantly back on the podium.” 

“Speaking of podiums, it looks like our time is up.” He shook hands with Lewis, then Charles and Carlos. “Congratulations once again. Well deserved.”

You reached the front barricade as the guys climbed the stairs to the stage up above and their eyes scanned the crowd knowing you were somewhere among the throngs. Carlos spotted you first and slapped Charles’ chest before pointing your way. You blew them a kiss and gave them a wink, their smiles growing as they stepped closer to the glass balustrade. You crossed your arms and to anyone else it would have been an innocent gesture but from their vantage point it pushed your breasts to the very edge of your low cut dress. 

Your phone vibrated in your purse and since you weren’t all that interested in the national anthems playing you pulled it out. Your scoff was swallowed by the sound of the crowd and you searched the shadows around the cordoned off areas to find Max staring back. Even with the distance you could see the harsh cut of his jaw as he clenched his teeth and his arms were crossed defensively over his chest. 

You didn’t even bother to address the message he had sent, instead you replied with the video you had taken in his bed. You watched with a keen interest as he reached into his jeans and pulled out his phone. 

Blue eyes turned to black as his pupils dilated and he ran a hand through his hair, tugging the dirty blond strands while he fisted his phone on the other. His thumbs flew across the keyboard as he typed his response before turning his back and leaving the celebration while you started at the reply.

You're going to pay for that.

Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot At the body shop, doing something unholy

The heat on the dance floor was quickly soaring as hands roamed your body. Charles’ entire front was pressed against your back and controlled the sway of your hips to the music as his lips grazed your neck and he whispered filthy words for only you to hear. 

He wasn’t alone.

Lewis and Carlos’ bodies encircled you, obscuring your obscene display of affection from the dense crowd dancing to the music too. They were taking advantage of the disorienting strobe lights and the fact everyone else was in a drunken world of their own, it was daring even for them.

Charles pinned your hands behind your back, trapping them between your bodies, as Lewis stepped closer and used his thigh to push your legs apart. Cool air rushed in and kissed the heat of your pussy as your skirt rode up higher the more Lewis nudged your thighs apart.

“Hermosa,” Carlos groaned as he noticed the lack of lace panties beneath. “You forgot something when you were getting ready.”

You licked your lips and leaned back against Charles so your dress pulled up even higher and Lewis cursed lowly. 

“I didn’t forget anything.”

And when you want it, baby, I know I got you covered And when you need it, baby, just jump under the covers

Your cry was swallowed by the chorus as they descended on you. 

Carlos’ fingers were at your entrance, gathering the evidence of your need and using it to glide over your clit while Lewis and Charles left burn marks on your neck from the short beards they sported. Their hands cupped and squeezed and probed until you were lost to the overwhelming sensations and ready to float away like the clouds of dry ice around the room. 

“Unless you’re planning to fuck me on the dance floor, we need to go.”

“The idea has crossed my mind,” Charles admitted between sucking at the sensitive skin below your ear. 

“Time to go,” Lewis ordered before you could reach for his belt buckle, the only one out of the three men capable of using his head to think with and not his dick.

Carlos pouted as he pulled your dress back into place but he knew it would be coming off in a matter of minutes when he got you upstairs. 

The music drifted away as the elevator doors closed in the lobby and Charles pushed you back into Lewis’ arms. “Don’t let her move,” he warned as he dropped to his knees.

Carlos’ hand slapped over your mouth in time to smother the moan that was ready to fill the small elevator when Charles’ tongue teased over your clit. You squirmed as you tried to roll your hips, silently begging for more, but Lewis curled a strong arm around your waist and pinned you to his body. 

The floor levels ticked by and the higher they rose the closer you got to heaven. 

Everywhere you looked you were blessed with the sight of the men around you and their infinite reflections in the mirrored walls. Even when your head fell back in ecstasy you swayed under the image on the ceiling, spying Charles’ eyes that rolled up to look at you coming undone over his tongue.

Ding!

Charles rose swiftly to his feet, pulling your dress back into place before the doors opened and a body filled the doorway. He already knew what had happened from the dazed look in your eyes and the way Lewis had to support your unsteady legs by holding you against him.

“What the fuck, Max?” Carlos asked as he stepped in front of you, Charles too busy wiping his lips to speak.

You wouldn’t say you were shocked to see him somehow get your room number from the receptionist - he was a world champion - no one would say no to him, even if it was a breach of privacy. You actually found his tenacity extremely hot, that and the way he stood blocking the exit with fire in his eyes. 

“Mate, move out of the way,” Lewis said as he shifted you into Charles’ arms, though your legs were no longer trembling.

Max ignored them all and held your stare. “What’s my number, babygirl?”

You shook your head to try and clear the haze that your orgasm and the champagne had brought upon you but it didn’t work and you asked him confused, “What?”

“What. Is. My. Race. Number?” he asked, taking a step closer with each enunciation.

“One?”

“Good girl, that’s correct.” Max smirked as he came to a stop in front of Lewis and looked at you over his shoulder. “I think that means I won.”

“That’s bullshit, you DNF’d get over it,” Charles stated, knowing well enough the pain of missing out on a night with you because he crashed out earlier in the season. 

“Wait,” you said, stepping between the four of them. “What if he’s right? What if the reigning champ can have me whenever they choose, off-track too?” You circled around the group seeing them contemplating it. “After today's race standings you all have a shot at winning the championship.”

“Hang on,” Max interrupted but you held up a finger to your lips to silence him.

“My body, my rules. So, what d’ya say boys?”

Lewis, Carlos and Charles looked at each other for a moment before Lewis’ lips parted in a grin. “I’m up for the challenge.”

“Did you not see how fucking messy it was out there today?” Max asked, stunned by the turn of events.

“Fuck it, I’m in,” Carlos chuckled before looking at his team mate. 

“Max is right, it’s going to be an expensive season for repairs,” Charles said with a shake of his head before locking eyes with you and starting to smile, “but it’s not my money. I’m in.”

You walked out of the elevator, patting Max’s hard chest as you passed by. “This is what you wanted, big guy. Now, are you coming, or do you want to brood in the hallway all night?”

It was no surprise that he came, and came, and came again. 

All of the men were athletes and the stamina showed when they were ready to go round after round. You were an overstimulated mess when you collapsed on the sofa, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. You could barely think with your head on cloud nine and their cum leaking down your legs.

“Our little cum slut is cock drunk,” Max teased as he took a seat beside you and pulled your head onto his lap. “You have another round in you, don’t you, babygirl?”

The sofa shifted as Carlos sat down at the other end, his strong hands starting to massage your feet. “Let her rest for a minute.”

“Just because you have nothing left,” Max scoffed and turned your head to him. His thumb traced your swollen lips with a smirk before parting your mouth. “Some of us can go all night. Right, Hamilton?”

Lewis barely lifted his head up from where he lay sprawled across the carpet, his chest rising and falling fast as he caught his breath. He had absolutely ruined you with the fast pace he had set while he knelt behind you and fucked you until you couldn’t hold yourself up any longer. Charles had been there to keep you up on your hands and knees with a fist full of your hair, right before he filled your mouth with his cock to silence the screams of pleasure.

All Lewis could do was raise his thumb in response as Charles returned to the living room with an armful of water bottles from the minibar. He tossed one to each of the guys before kneeling beside your head and cracking the lid of another and raising it to your lips. The cool liquid quickly soothed your dry throat and chased away some of the exhaustion that had settled into your relaxed muscles. 

“Better, hermosa?” Carlos asked as his massage crept higher up your legs.

“Mhmm,” you sighed contentedly, letting your knees part for him. The temperature in the room rose rapidly and even Lewis found the strength to rise from the ground to drink in the sight. You might as well have just hung an open for business sign out and you chuckled at the hungry looks they shared. “Much better.”

Click here for part three.

Tagging: @slytherheign @alwaysclassyeagle

[justbreakonme]

Signs of Change

Whumpee didn’t like it, when the seasons started to change. It still made him uneasy, knowing just how cold the nights could get and just how precarious his position could be. He was only safe as long as he was good, and the outdoors had no mercy.

But Caretaker did.

“Hey, Whumpee, why don’t you come in here? It’s warmer, since the stove’s going.” Caretaker’s voice broke through his thoughts, and he obeyed.

When he rounded the corner into the kitchen, the warmth enveloped him immediately. There was a large, silver soup pot boiling away on the stove, and the smell of onion and garlic and herbs and all sorts of things instantly made his mouth water.

“It needs to simmer for a bit longer, I think. Do you want to come sit with me?”

Whumpee nodded, and took a seat where he always did, across from Caretaker at the old wooden table.

“Not a talking day, huh?”

He shook his head, rubbing a fist in a circle over his chest.

Sorry.

“It’s fine, you’re good. I just like to check-in so I know.”

Whumpee couldn’t ever explain why sometimes words just, failed him. But, after his old owner, after being silent for so long, he sometimes felt…stuck.

“Do you feel like playing cards? I think we have enough time for a round of war…”

Whumpee nodded, dutifully turning to grab the cards from the little shelf in the corner. He liked cards. War was the first game they had played together, back when he’d first been bought rescued.

Caretaker had made it very clear that he wasn’t owned, anymore.

But he hoped maybe, maybe if he was really, really good, he could be. He had tried, once, to ask what he could do, if anything, to earn being owned again, but, the words had died in his mouth and he’d gone silent for days.

He understood why they didn’t want to own him, he wasn’t really worth very much. But, sometimes, he let himself believe that between him trying his very hardest and Caretakers inexplicable mercy, there might be a chance. Someday.

Caretaker handed him a stack of cards, and he brought the tips of his fingers to his chin, hand open and palm towards himself, then moved his hand out in front of him, almost in a swinging motion.

Thank you.

“You’re welcome.” Caretaker smiles as they play their first card, and he follows suit.

The game goes by quickly, and soon, the oven timer went off, making them both jump.

“Here, we’ll just scoot these over a bit and we can play while we eat. Would you grab the spoons?”

He nodded, carefully moving his pile of cards to the side and heading for the silverware drawer.

As Caretaker ladled out the soup, he placed a spoon at each of their spots, then, unsure if he should sit or wait for the next task, he hovered between the drawer and the table, wringing his hands.

As they turned to grab the bowls, they noticed his hesitation. “Go ahead and sit, I’ll bring the bowls over.”

Another tap-then-outward gesture of thanks, and he sat back down, watching as they carefully ladled out two bowls of steaming soup.

Carefully, they carried one bowl at a time to the table, oven mitts on.

“Ooh- don’t try to hold it, it’s super hot.” Caretaker dodged where Whumpee had tried to help set the bowl down, instead opting to set it down on the edge and scoot it over so it didn’t spill.

He rubbed his fist over his chest in a circle again, more frantic this time.

Sorry, sorry!

“You’re good, I just didn’t want you to burn yourself,” they returned to the table with their own bowl, tossing the oven mitts onto the spare chair after settling in, “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

He tried to mimic Caretaker, who was blowing gently on their soup, but the lump in his throat got in the way.

He wished, as he often did, that he could speak without speaking, in more ways than literally. He wished he could make them know things.

If he was patient and waited for his voice to return, or if he went to get one of the whiteboards Caretaker kept laying around for him, he could tell him that he would do anything for them. That they had his loyalty and devotion, his mind, body, and soul.

But he couldn’t make them know it the way he did. It snuck up on him, in moments like these, then hit like a tsunami.

His stillness must have caught their attention because they looked up. “You okay?”

He nodded, swallowing hard and smiling, then gave a timid thumbs up.

You don’t own me, but, I belong to you.

They grinned, giving him a thumbs up back, and another tsunami took his breath away.

But, that was fine. He’d let the soup cool on its own, and they would play cards, and for the first time in a very long while, he was able to forget the changing seasons and the morning frost.

It couldn’t touch him here.

Caretaker wouldn’t let it.

[scremogirl]

☾✧꥟ 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✧✰☀︎︎

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐧

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

Mentions of blood! Mentions of Death! Mentions of mutilation! Mentions of Murder, GN! Reader, NReader/Diolouge uses a lot of black colloquialisms/AAVE *slightlyyyy black coded but only for the speaking bits. NO APPERANCE MENTIONED!* READ THE NOTE AT THE END PLZ! (●’◡’●)ﾉ Part 2 here Part 3 here

Halloween.

The day where people grasp the fact that the summer's over and the seasons have finally changed. Corny decorations on front porches, masks in windows to scare unaware customers, and people dressed as slutty cartoon characters.

You loved the last one. You’ve always worked hard on your costumes; from a small cameo in the school yearbook to entering contests and pageants. You loved fashion, everything about it. The different fabrics, colors, patterns; you cherished it all. So, it’s no wonder that’s what you’ve chosen as your destined career path. You somehow managed to get into the third most prestigious fashion school. I say third because the first one you applied for, was full of egotistical French exchange students who do nothing but compare their lives at home to their lives in America. The second… well, you don’t want to talk about it. Regardless, you’re so grateful your talents have been recognized.

That leads us to now. At the biggest fright fest of the year. Your professor decided that if everyone got at least a 95% or above on the unit test, he’d take the whole class on a field trip to the annual Freak do Shek Carnival. A free trip and creating a new costume? You’ve never studied harder in your life. You spent days working on your costume; hoping to win the annual costume contest.

“Breaking news! The killer know as the “Mask Maker” is still on the loose and is currently suspected to be in the Witchwood area. It is recommended for all residents to stay indoors travel in groups-,”

Your heart sinks.

No, no, no! Why does it have to be now? Why here? The area you lived in was one of the safest in the city! Police patrolled regularly, security systems were available to all, and most people have been traveling in groups these days. So, why? You look at your friend, Malika, who no doubt received the same alert as you did, judging by her face.

“Well what the hell are we supposed to do now!?” She yells in frustration. You all have arrived at the festival and the bus has already taken its leave. Unless you call an Uber, there’s no way out; but then again, with a killer on the loose, no person would be dumb enough to let any stranger in their car. You tell your teacher your concerns, but does he listen? No.

“We’ll be fine,” , “just travel in groups,” , and “make sure you check in with everyone at least every 15 minutes,” is all he says to shake your worries. Great job by the way. With that, he goes ahead with another one of the chaperones, probably on their way to get drunk on cheap beer and look at young girls. Pig.

“I know I ain’t stayin for damn sure,” you chuckle at Malikas abrasiveness and nod your head in agreement.

“Who’s gonna pick us up though? We all came here on a bus and no Lift driver is stupid enough to let strangers in at this time,” you both sigh and end up agreeing that she’d call her boyfriend to come get you. The only downside is he lives in the next county. That means 3 whole hours plus some that you two have to try and rid your paranoia.

“How ‘bout we go check out the costume display for the upcoming show? Maybe scope out some the competition?”

“You know what Malika, that sounds like a great idea,” she holds out her arm and you take it , laughing your way down the hay covered dirt path wearily dodging scare actors. Unbeknownst to you the glowing eyes of one of the masks are filled with anything but fake intent.

“Hey, Mal? Is he on the way yet?” You two have already viewed the display, concrete knowing you’re gonna knock everyone at the park. So you decided that maybe a little sightseeing wouldn’t be that bad.

“Ugh! He said he’s on his way but knowing him, that means he just got in the shower,” with a deep sigh she puts her phone back in her pocket.

“Look,” she continues

“ How about we go get something to eat and enjoy what we can. I mean, we did wait all year for this,” you’re a little hesitant but you end up caving; fried oreos do sound good right now.

The walk to the concession stands is filled with jump scares from actors, Jack, o lanterns illuminating your path and the laughter of children and adults a like. The environment reminds you of why you came here in the first place, maybe there is nothing to be worried about.

Oof!

“Oh I’m sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going,” to wrapped up in the scenery and nostalgia, you failed to notice one of the actors scrambling by. You hear the muffled laughter of Malika and try your best not to strangle her to cover up your embarrassment. Fortunately , it was just the water that spilled on them; Unfortunately, your oreos lay spread eagle on the ground. However, even with a soaked costume and powdered sugar all over their boots, they remain in character. Only giving you a tilt of the head, a grunt, and tightening their grip on their axe. The eyes that lay behind the papier-mâché mask boar deep into your soul, the white contacts holding something deep and dark. The feeling of guilt is slowly washed away and replaced with anxiousness. Man, they're getting employee of the month. Still, you feel bad so you grab the napkins from your back pocket and gently wipe their mask, some of the fake blood coming off along with the water. Hmm, these effects are off the chain too.

As you clean them up you can’t help but to think that they’ll join the costume contest, definitely giving you a run for your money. You're snapped out of your thoughts when Malika pulls you along the road, whining about how upset she is because she didn’t get to snag one of your Oreos. Making your leave, you look over your shoulder one last time, only to find those same white eyes trailing your figure.

My god, you're even more beautiful up close.

“Personally, if that happened to me I’d kill myself,” once again, your friends laughter snapped you outta your own mind. You just giggle and brush it off.

“Shut up! It’s not like I did it on purpose! Besides he was kinda fine not gon’ hold you,”

“I know right! the way he titled his, had a tear running down my leg not gon’ lie,”

“Girl… don’t you gotta man? Like… on his way here?”

“Shhhh don’t ruin the fantasy,”

Two hours have officially passed, the same old texts between Malika and her boyfriend, this time however he was actually in the car. She had pressed him to turn on his location for safety, you could never be too sure now can you? He should’ve been here by now but with how crowded the festival is getting, you can’t blame him. Thankfully, the contest is just about to start! Going against your better judgment, you and Malika thought that being apart for about 15-20 mins wouldn’t hurt. She’ll be waiting in the audience while you go change anyways.

Rushing to the changing rooms you fail to notice another contestant coming towards you just as fast. For the second time this night you managed to bump into someone.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean I-,”

“Watch where you’re going bitch! Y’know how long it took me to make this thing?” You look to the left and then to the right trying to figure out who the fuck they think they’re talking too.

“Look I didn’t mean it, I’m sorr-,”

“Yea yea whatever, just stay outta my way next time. Besides, it’s not like you're gonna win this thing anyways,” just before you were about to give them a piece of your mind, the manager stepped in and separated you two. Jeez now this is gonna take even longer than you expected. You thought it was only fair to let Malika know shoot her a quick text. “No worries, babe! Gill's location says he’s here already so Imma grab us a quick bite to eat before I look for him and we head to you. See ya soonnn❤︎︎!!!”

Good; that buys you just enough time. After getting changed and checking your reflection for the hundredth time, you step out feeling as confident as ever. Just as you exit the stall, you hear the worst blood curdling scream of your entire life. You look over to your right and see that asshole from early and that guy with the really nice axe murder costume. Your eyes have to be deceiving you! One of their legs is completely severed, blood dripping from the stub left behind. Slash marks, deep and crooked, adorn their arms and remaining leg. They Look as if their limbs could snap off at the slightest breeze. They cry and groan as they reach out to you. Following their eyes the crazed murder shifts his eyes to you. Their weapon of choice freezing in their hands mid swing. Their victim continues to moan in pain and crawl away, begging and pleading for someone to save them. But…you just laugh.

“I see what you're trynna do here, and it ain’t workin’. Your costume is good but it isn’t better than mine. Assholes,” the last part is mumbled under your breath as you walk away. Even though you presented yourself in this prideful manner, you can’t help the feeling of disappointment that bubbles inside you. You tried really hard this year, let’s just hope that everyone else thinks you did too.

CHOP

Finally. Holding up the severed head he smiles, crooked and eerie. The bitch wouldn’t stop screaming, but at least he gets to see the look of fear in their face forever.

“Hey! What the hell’re you doing!?” hm? Turning around he sees the manager from earlier, standing before him with wide eyes filled with shock and anger. He can’t have his plans be ruined by a little slip up! He didn’t mean to act so impulsive but he couldn’t help. Nobody talks to you like that; not if he had something to do about it. Swinging his weapon of choice up on his shoulder, he’s about to take a step before he’s interrupted.

“Didn't I tell you guys to keep all spare props in bags because of the fake blood?! It gets everywhere and I’m the one who has to clean it up!” They shoved him to the side before grabbing a large trash bag from the cart they lugged behind them; simultaneously grabbing a mop and bucket. Continue to grumble about how “they don’t get paid enough for this” and “all the newbies are irresponsible”. But hey, free disposal.

“Sh, sh it’s okay; it was never your fault,” you tried comforting her but to no luck. All she can see is red as the burning hot tears streaming from her eyes ruin the makeup she spent so long on

“Okay?! It’s not okay (Y/N)! He said he was stuck in traffic all the while he was toungin’ down some bitch in a slutty cat costume. Very unoriginal btw!” You try to keep your giggle in for her sake. You kept trying to tell her this idiot wasn’t any good for years but nooo “the dick was too good to let go,” and apparently, someone else thought so too. Her weeping continues before she builds up the courage to speak again.

“All I wanna do is go home; fuck this competition,” you smile seeing her personality shine through her sadness just a little.

“Yea, fuck this competition,”sure you’re sad about to being able to participate this year, but with your best friend in distress and a serial killer on the loose, you can’t help but to think that maybe you could wait until next year. Ordering the Uber, you suggest that before it gets here, you should check in with your teacher first. Of course you don’t have his number and you're sure your other classmates are not worried about their phones unless they’re snapping pics and recording for their stories . You send them a quick text to your classes group chat and look for the exit.

“He really is a dick, you don’t need him,”

“Yea, I know. Besides, maybe that axe guy will take care of him for me,” she giggles but you don’t find it funny at all.

“What?”

“Yea, I saw him outta the corner of my eye when I walked in on he who shall not be named about to fuck that other girl,” she rolls her eyes and continues walking but you remain stationary.

“You gotta be joking,“ she turns around and gives you a quizzical look so you continue further.

“He and another dickhead I bumped into put on this whole show to get me to drop outta the contest. Lost limbs, fake blood and everything. I don’t know what his problem is, but he needs to leave me the fuck alone before I get the manager, on some Karen shit”

“Now that I think about it, he has been high-tailing us ever since we’ve got here,” she freezes before looking at you dead on. She wipes away the tear stains and brushes her nose against her sleeve before scanning the area.

“You don’t think it’s Kee-,”

“No! Don’t. It’s not him. It couldn’t be,” she holds up her hands in defense before pulling you along to get the hell up outta here. It goes dead silent, tension filling the air. It couldn't be him! It’s just some rando whos jealous of your skill! But…your mind was just playing tricks on you. That feeling of paranoia started to rise again and the flashbacks felt like they were hitting you in waves. She saw this and decided to speak up before it got worse.

“Hey, I’m sorry for bringing it up. I really didn’t mean to-,” this time it’s your turn to cut her off. You offer her a light smile and hold her hand in yours before squeezing.

“It’s alright. Besides, who needs men anyways. You’re all I need,” she gives you an even brighter one, her usual self returning, before squeezing just as hard, laying her head on your shoulder while you walk.

“Yea, fuck men,” you two laugh in sync before changing the conversation to what you’ll do when you get home; maybe a Horror movie marathon and some junk food will cheer you up. Who cares, the night has just begun for you and there’s no way anything was gonna ruin it.

Watching you walk away a gloved hand slams into a tree. Dammit! You won’t get away so easily. You’re his. Nobody else’s. He’ll make sure of it. Starting with her.

Hello everyone!!!! Hope you enjoyed the first part of my Halloween special. I’m breaking this down into 3 parts because I’m afraid people will think it’s too long if I put the whole thing on tumblr. I will be making an Ao3 and the whole fic will be posted without any split up. When it’s created and up I’ll let you know. Hope you enjoyed Loves!!! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎.

-Love, Sosa❤️

[bitchinbarzal]

Sunday | M Barzal

summary: sunday is your favourite.

-

Sundays were soft.

Sundays were spent at absolute bagels to get the exact order you had got every week.

Sundays were spent holding Mat’s hand while he whispered sweet words to you.

Sundays were spent in Central Park, eating bagels with the love of your life.

You loved Sundays, you loved them more with Mat.

The sun was warmer than it had been in previous weeks, early March was showing a glimpse of what spring in New York had in store.

Mat needed this, you knew that. It was getting closer to the seasons end and the islanders weren’t in a position to clinch yet.

Mat knew he had to put the effort into this team, he didn’t want to let them down.

“You know we didn’t have to do this today, I know the guys are doing a voluntary practice” you mumble, pressing a kiss to mat’s shoulder.

He smiled softly “And miss Sunday in the park with my girl? Absolutely not!”

You laughed “Another Sunday to convince you my bagel is the best…”

Mat rolls his eyes, poking at the breakfast sandwich in your hand “No! It’s not! This-“

He holds his bagel up

“This is the best!”

“I’m just glad they don’t do the Barz-agel this side of the river”

“Hey listen your boyfriend is so famous he has a bagel named after him, you’re a lucky woman”

“Har-har” you muttered, biting into your bagel “The best!”

Mat rolled his eyes again, just smiling this time at the way you smirked still with food in your mouth. Even now, you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen.

Your bagels were finished, with one more argument about whose order was best you took his wrapper and headed towards the closest trash can.

On route back to where he was standing you stopped

“Oh my god, mat have you ever noticed this?!” You screeched.

Mat frowned, walking over to see what you were looking at.

The two of you stared at the golden plaque on the park bench, leaning closer to read the inscription

“Oh that’s so cute! To my beloved Sammy… Mat they were in love” you exclaimed, watching him walk to the next bench along to read that inscription.

“This one says ‘they love this walk, this park but most of all each other” he read and you pout

“That’s so sweet! Can you imagine someone buying you a bench? I wonder how much it costs..” you wonder aloud, pulling out your phone to google it.

The two of you start walking again while you google “Ten grand! Holy shit!”

Mat laughs softly at your tone “Maybe if you’re really nice to me I’ll buy you one”

“Hmm does that mean I have to agree with your bagel choice?”

His eyes brows raise “Well now you’ve mentioned it…”

You smirk, pulling on his hand “Buy me a bench and we can talk!”

“Daddy come on!” Mat chased after the little girl through the park

“Woah slow down princess you’re gonna get lost!”

She turns to look at him with that cheeky grin “Not if you catch up”

He rolls his eyes as her sass “What are you even running for?”

“Look! The seats have words!” She exclaims, pointing to the park benches golden plaque.

Mat crouches down beside her, on her level “yeah? What do they say?”

He watched as she narrowed her eyes, standing closer to be able to read it “that one says a dirty word!”

She Saunders along the benches, reading them all one by one.

She stops abruptly and gasps “Daddy! This one has your name on it!”

Mathew smiles softly, walking to where she is “Yeah?”

“Yeah.. look! It says I love Sunday with you - Hey! That’s my name!”

Mat smiles, kissing the side of her head “It sure does babygirl”

She cocks her head to the side “Daddy read it for me, please?”

“It says, Y/N I love Sundays with you forever, Mat”

She looks at her dad, matching the sad look on his face

“Hey daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Is that mommy’s bench?”

“It is, that’s mommy’s bench” He nods, squeezing her hand.

“Can I sit? Be with mommy?” She points to the seat with sad eyes.

He nods “Let’s sit together baby, we’ll eat our bagels” shaking the bag.

Sunday smiles “mommy’s bagels!”

Mat rolls his eyes “My girls and their bad bagel choices…” pulling her up under his arm while she delved into the bag of breakfast food.

With the bagel in hand she looks at mat sadly “Daddy… I wish mommy was here”

“Yeah me too babygirl, me too”

Sundays were soft.

Sundays were spent holding Mat’s hand while he whispered sweet words to you.

Sundays were spent in Central Park, eating bagels with the love of your life.

Sunday was the only thing Mat had left of you.

[atinylittlepain]

alright hear me out. you’re secretly in love with joel. and joel is ridiculously attracted to you and he’s so protective of you and has this massive crush that he refuses to acknowledge. but Tess can totally tell and either

a. she is super jealous and annoyed about it. she confronts joel in some way and maybe treats you shitty. but joel totally calls her out and basically admits that he does like you.

b. she wants you two to get together. and tries to force you two to spend more time alone with each other and maybe she confronts joel and you walk in on their convo or she just tells you outright that joel is into you but will never admit it.

tesscue part two! i love it

Better Off

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

Joel's trying to keep his distance from her. But Tess has other plans for him and the girl he's trying so hard to forget about.

warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, angst, feelings

a/n | this can be read as a standalone or as a part two to Looking, either way it's fun :)

.................................

She would never admit it, but she’s disappointed that things haven’t changed all that much with Joel, not since that night he came looking for her and all but murdered that guard that had been giving her trouble. Not since she kissed him on the cheek and told him how she feels about him.

He still won’t really talk to her, not unless it’s business. But now that she’s working almost entirely with Tess, even those opportunities are few and far in between. When they do speak, he keeps his eyes anywhere but on her. His hands in his lap, the laces of his boots, something just over her shoulder, but he never quite meets her gaze. More than anything, she feels embarrassed that she had been so forward with him that night. She had thought that he felt similarly, with the way he was blushing like a teenager at her flirting, but now it seems pretty clear that Joel Miller wants nothing to do with her outside of their business partnership. 

She’s trying to not let it get to her, but her mind can’t help needling at it. Does he think she’s too young for him? Too talkative? Too crass? She flits away these questions easily, but her mind always settles on the fear that Joel just doesn’t take her seriously, not really. So, she’s resigned herself to the reality that her little crush is going to have to stay just that, focusing on her work with Tess as a distraction from him. 

While Joel may be getting more distant, she and Tess have become quick friends in their work establishing a new trade partner right on the border of Vermont, often staying up late into the night when the talk shifts from smuggling routes to loose gossip and life. Joel had often passed by them, sitting at the kitchen table in his apartment, grumbling to himself before closing his bedroom door with a definitive thud. Tess would always apologize for her “dumbass associate,” and she would just shrug, trying not to take his clear hostility personally, though it sure seemed to be directed toward her. A few months passed like that, and with each day she convinced herself a bit more that she didn’t care about Joel Miller. 

With summer creeping in, it’s just about time for Joel and Tess to make another seasonal trip out to Bill and Frank, and when she gets back to his apartment a few nights before they’re supposed to go, she’s surprised by the conversation he and Tess are having.

“Then we’ll just push it back.” Tess shakes her head in her hand where she’s sitting at the kitchen table.

“We can’t, Joel. Bill and Frank are already skittish as it is, if we go changing dates on them it’s just gonna raise their hackles.” Joel looks at her blankly, slumping back in his chair.

“Then you gotta push that meeting back instead.” Tess scoffs.

“I can’t. It’s time sensitive what I got worked out with Marlene. It’s now or never. You gotta go to Bill and Frank’s without me. She can go with you.” Her mouth goes dry when Tess nods over to where she’s still standing in the doorway, and her stomach twists when Joel is so quick to protest against the idea.

“Tess, I’m not going with her.” Tess looks ready to smack him upside the head, but she interjects, walking further into the room and fixing him with a steely look.

“What? You don’t think I can handle it, Miller? Well I can assure I manage just fine out there. Been running the route to Vermont nearly every week so don’t worry about me. I’ll go with you, and you’ll be lucky to have me along for the trip.” She shocks even herself with that outburst, but obviously not as much as Joel whose mouth is hanging open, eyes wide as he looks at her. Tess claps her hands together, startling him out of his surprised stupor.

“Well, that settles that. Thanks for taking on asshole duty, I owe you one.” Tess grins at her as Joel scoffs at her words. She however, is starting to realize exactly what she just signed up for.

It’s going to be a long hike.

…

Her mind has been swirling ever since they left the QZ. Now, pacing back and forth outside the hollowed-out gas station that Joel is rummaging through for supplies he had stashed, she keeps replaying the conversation she had overheard the night before between him and Tess. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but when she heard Tess say her name, she had stopped in her tracks, leaning back behind the door frame of Joel’s bedroom to listen in.

“Joel, you’re being fucking ridiculous.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tess laughed at that.

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re gonna scare her away with the way you treat her, is that what you want?”

“No. I just– just don’t care to be around her, that’s all.” Her heart dropped at that, but Tess was quick to reply.

“Well I don’t believe that for one second. It’s kinda hard to scowl at someone while you’re also giving them puppy dog eyes. Joel, it’s pretty fucking clear that you’re sweet on her. And I know for a fact that she’s had a little thing for you too. But if you keep treating her like shit, whatever chance you have left with her is gonna be gone. Or worse, you’re gonna cost me my best business partner.” A heavy silence fell after Tess’ rant, Joel clearing his throat a few times before he answered.

“Look, it’s better off this way. She’s better off not getting– tangled up with me. Fuck– I’ll try to be– polite, I guess. Not gonna lose you a business partner, but it’s better for everyone if I keep my distance. She’ll get over it– tough as nails, that one. It’s better for her, Tess. Alright?” Tess sighed.

“Fine. But I still think it’s a shame that you’re just throwing away a chance at something actually good in this world.”

She had scurried out of his apartment at the sound of their conversation dying out, and ever since, her mind has been replaying it on an infinite loop. It had shocked her, hearing Joel all but openly admit that he had been harboring his own feelings for her. But that shock quickly rolled over to dismay that it was made explicitly clear that he wasn’t going to do anything to act on those feelings.

“You good?” She’s startled out of her thoughts by Joel shouldering his way out of the gas station, wordlessly passing her one of the guns he had stashed before. She nods as they already step back into stride, turning back to continue following the highway toward Bill and Frank’s. 

Their hike so far has been quiet, save for monosyllabic communication, and the silence is starting to get to her, just enough that she finally opens her mouth. Anything’s better than staying stuck in her head.

“Joel? Can I ask you a question?” He hums out a reluctant permission, his head tilting slightly to look at her as they keep walking.

“What did you do before– well, before?” She knows he doesn’t like talking about the past, and judging by the way his face screws up at her question, she guesses he might not even answer, but she’s so sick of conversations about FEDRA guards and trade routes. She’d give anything to talk about something normal.

When he doesn’t answer, she sighs.

“Oh c’mon. We’ve got like another four hours of walking, might as well fill the time with something.” Still nothing, his eyes staying fixed forward on the crumbling road ahead of them. She huffs.

“Well I was a nurse– ER, if you can believe it.” That seems to pique his interest, finally glancing at her.

“Were you on shift when everything–?” She nods to his trailing off question.

“Sure was. Booked it out of there when my patients started taking bites out of doctors. Pfft, I remember one of my coworkers refusing to leave because she was worried about getting paid for her overtime.” She lets out a weak laugh, shaking her head at the strange memory. Joel clears his throat.

“I was a contractor. Me and my brother had a little business– building homes, that type of stuff. It was, um, good work.” She offers him a smile, surprised when he offers her one back. The moment is short lived however, when two infected come darting out of the treeline. 

It’d be foolish to waste ammo, both of them scrambling to pull out knives. She makes quick work of the one coming up on her, turning to see Joel struggling on the ground with the other. But before she can help him, she gets tackled to the ground by another screeching infected, her knife skittering out of her hand at the impact. She rolls on the ground with the snarling creature, fighting back its snapping jaws as best she can, though it continues to press closer and closer into her. And then its body goes slack over her, and she can’t help the stifled shriek she lets out when it slumps heavy on top of her. Her whole body trembles as she shoves the body off of her, finding Joel standing over her, a wild look in his eyes.

He kneels down between her legs, helping her sit up as his hands dart anxiously over her, checking for bites. There’s a loud rushing in her ears, her hands shaking as she grasps onto the front of his flannel. His palms cup her face, warm and steadying as he coaxes her to look at him.

“Are you ok? Not hurt anywhere?” She’s never gotten so close to death, the shock of it settling icy and slick in her bones. She takes a shuddering breath before answering.

“I’m– I’m fine. I’m ok.” The worry rounding his eyes dissolves, his face setting back in a gruff, empty expression. She hates how she tries to lean into him when he takes his hands away from her face. He gets up with a groan, offering her a hand, but she has enough dignity to refuse to take it, scrambling onto her still unsteady legs.

“We should keep moving. There’s probably more where those came from.” She doesn’t respond to his words, just starts walking again, trying to steady the persistent shake in her hands. 

The rest of their hike is silent until Joel suggests they break for the night, setting up camp in a thicket of trees just off the highway. They eat their rations silently in the slow-darkening summer dusk. She’s surprised when he offers her his flask.

“Helps with the nerves.” She swears she could get whiplash with the way he’s swinging from seeming to not give a fuck to acting like he cares. She wordlessly takes the flask from him, ignoring the flicker of his fingers brushing hers as she takes a hard swig. 

“You sure you’re alright?” She can’t help but scoff at that.

“Careful, Miller. A girl might start to think you actually give a fuck about her.” He looks stricken by her harsh words, the fading light of day casting shadows over his furrowed expression.

“I– I do give a fuck about you.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around her shins where she’s sitting on her spread out sleeping bag.

“Oh I know. But you don’t want to, do you? That’s the problem. You don’t want to care about me. You think I’d be better off if you kept your distance from me.” His jaw goes slack at her words, leaning over his knees where he’s sitting across from her.

“I thought I heard you– you were listening in, weren’t you? To me and Tess? How much did you hear?” She sighs, turning her gaze down.

“Heard all of it.” It’s more of a mumble, but Joel hears it.

“Look, I’ll admit it– I like you– probably more than I should. But I’m right, darlin. It’s better this way. I’m no good for you. You best just forget about this.” Her head whips up at that, finally meeting his surprisingly sorrowful gaze.

“How can you say that, Joel? How could you possibly know what’s best for me? This isn’t about what’s best for me. You know what I think? I think you’re scared to let anyone get close to you. This isn’t better for me, it’s easier for you.” His expression has hardened, and she knows that she just pissed him off.

“That’s bullshit. You think this is easy for me? Pushing you away? Maybe you’ll understand when you’re a little older, darlin, but there ain’t anything easy about any of this.” She scoffs at that, anger coaxing up her spine.

“Oh please. That’s a weak excuse and you know it. Pulling the fucking age card. I’m not the one that needs to fucking grow up.” Somehow, in the heated volley of words, they’ve both ended up kneeling in front of each other, inching up into each other’s snarling faces.

“Oh, I need to grow up? That’s rich coming from the girl who just a few months ago was flirting with fucking feds for a few extra ration cards.” She does it before she can even think, her hand arcing with the goal of smacking him clean across his face, but before she can make contact, he grabs her wrist, holding her hand between them as she struggles in his grasp.

“Let go.” She can feel her anger seething off of herself, but Joel just cocks an eyebrow at her, firming up his grip on her wrist.

“No.” He says it so casually, she can’t help but laugh.

“What are you, a toddler? I said, let fucking go, you–” She’s cut off by his lips smashing into hers. Though she initially tries to fight it, she can’t help but mold her lips to his, seeking out the upper hand when she swipes her tongue over his bottom lip, causing him to groan lowly. He lets go of her wrist, his palms coming to squeeze at the curve of her hips as he topples back onto his ass, taking her with him as she straddles his thighs. It’s an angry, demanding little thing of a kiss, both of them fighting for dominance between swallowed gasps. He finally pulls back with a lewd smack, his eyes blown wide.

“You drive me fucking crazy, woman.” She snickers, tugging lightly at the hair at the nape of his neck.

“So much for not caring, Miller.” Tess was right. Tess was definitely right.

[chelseachilly]

tired of loving from afar

pairing: mason mount x reader warnings: none, mostly fluff with a tiny bit of angst! word count: 5.3k

a/n: not me writing for someone other than ben lmao?? been really in my mase feels lately so here's a fluffy little long distance relationship fic (also was very happy to read this morning that he's likely going to be back after the international break! my heart has been hurting for him this season 🥺) have a great weekend loves 💓

-

Of the three years you’ve been with Mason, the past six months have been the hardest by far. 

You’d overcome other hurdles in your relationship, like adjusting to the exposure and demanding schedule of a professional footballer, learning to cope with your life being somewhat public and thousands of girls being in love with your boyfriend. None of this was nearly as challenging as having to adjust to him living 200 miles away from you. 

His move to Manchester was bittersweet - you were so proud of him for getting a spot at such a massive club and finally receiving the appreciation and recognition he deserves. You knew he was happy to have a fresh start and a chance to prove himself as a player. 

At the same time, it was incredibly emotional for him to leave his boyhood club, his friends, his family, and you all at the same time. You would’ve given anything to go with him, even if it meant leaving your own friends and family in London, but you were about to start your final year of uni there. You couldn’t just pack up and go, no matter how much you wanted to do so.

You’re passionate about your studies, and you knew it would all be worth it when you graduate and get a job in your chosen field - and in the same city as the man you love. You knew it was only a year.

That didn’t make it any easier to say goodbye.

You’ve both made a massive effort to see each other as much as humanly possible, going up to Manchester every time you have a break from classes or a weekend without an exam or assignment due. Mason has also come back to London any time he gets the chance, sometimes flying out just to see you for the day. You’ve been making it work, but it’s not nearly the same as living in the same house as him. Even when you were both super busy, you at least got to see each other when you woke up and before bed, and now all you have are texts and FaceTime calls. 

On a night like tonight, when you’re exhausted from the week and you just want to be wrapped in his arms watching a film, FaceTime really feels like a poor replacement for the real thing. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” Mason says, a sleepy smile on his face as he answers your call. “How was your day?”

“Hey, Mase,” you say, curling up with a blanket and admiring his face in the soft glow of his bedroom lamp. Judging by the fact that he’s in bed by quarter to nine, you figure he’s as worn out as you are. “It was okay, felt long. I finally turned in my essay, though.”

“Good work, babe, I’m sure you aced it like always.” 

You blush a little, never growing tired of how he takes every opportunity to praise your intelligence. Any time someone asks about your studies, he does a full spiel about how smart you are.

“We’ll see,” you say. “How was your day, love? Any updates at physio?”

The way his smile instantly fades makes your heart drop to your stomach, fearing the worst.

“Yeah, um-it’s looking like a bit longer,” Mason says, and you can tell he’s trying to keep his voice steady so you don’t worry too much. “Maybe another few weeks. They’re not sure.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you sigh. “I’m sorry. I know how frustrating this is.”

The hardest part about being away from Mason has unquestionably been watching him struggle from afar without being able to properly support him. From the rocky start to the season, to being out due to injuries basically ever since, it’s been torture not being there for him. 

You went up straight away when he first injured his calf in November, needing to both emotionally and physically care for him, but you couldn’t stay long before your exams started. Since then, you’ve done your best to help from London - sending him care packages, calling him as much as your schedule allows, asking Luke and Anouska to keep an eye on him and let you know how he’s holding up. 

In moments like these, though, what you really need is to hug him and tell him everything is going to be alright. 

“Yeah, it’s a bit tough,” Mason admits, fiddling with his hoodie string. “But at least I’m back in partial training, it could be worse. I could’ve done my ACL or something, you know? I’ve been pretty lucky in my career so far.”

One of the many things you love about him is his infectious optimism, how he always sees the best in situations and in people. 

Right now, though, you’re not sure you fully believe the words leaving his mouth. He looks so disheartened and downtrodden. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you ask, frowning. “I know it’s not the news you’re expecting, you’re allowed to be disappointed.”

“I’ll be fine, angel, don’t worry about me,” Mason reassures you. “Just missing you a little extra today.” 

“Me too,” you murmur, touching the screen and wishing it were his face. “I’m sorry I can’t make it up this weekend, but this group assignment-“

“Don’t apologize, baby, I know how busy you are this term,” Mason cuts you off, just as he always does when you try to apologize for being so far away. 

You do the same to him when he tries to say he’s sorry for uprooting your life together, for not being there when you’re stressed about school or just having a bad day. Truthfully, neither of you are at fault, it’s just life. But it still sucks sometimes. 

“We’ll see each other in a few weeks when I have my reading break,” you remind him. “Just a while longer.”

“I know, I’m counting down the minutes,” Mason smiles. 

You talk for a little while longer before you reluctantly have to go so you can get ready for bed, and you promise to call him again tomorrow night. 

The sad look on his face when you say goodnight lingers in your mind as you shower and do your skincare routine, and by the time you climb into bed, you’ve made a decision.

First, you message your group for the assignment you’re working on and ask if you can push your planned meeting to Monday rather than Saturday. Next, you text Luke and ask him to make sure Mason doesn’t have plans tomorrow night.

Lastly, you book a train to Manchester, because you’ll be damned if you don’t go cheer up your man when he needs you.

-

The moment you arrive at the train station in Manchester the next day, you hop in an Uber and make your way straight to Mason’s.

You know that he’s still at training and will be for at least another hour or so, as you’ve been texting Luke for updates so Mason doesn’t get suspicious. It’s not unusual for you to ask how his day is going, but you don’t typically ask for the exact time he plans on leaving Carrington or instruct him to go straight home after training.

Using the key that Mason gave you when he moved in, insisting that it was still your home even if you don’t live there the majority of the time, you let yourself into his house.

You drop your bags and immediately get to work on creating the perfect cozy, romantic Friday night in.

By the time you get the text from Luke that he’s on his way back with Mason, having devised a fake plan of coming over to play FIFA after training to ensure Mason didn’t make other plans, you’re just finishing up.

You’ve successfully transformed his house, which he bought furnished and has put very little effort into making homey, into a much more welcoming environment. 

You ordered flowers for the kitchen table, as well as enough groceries to make dinner for him tonight and to replenish his far too empty fridge. You did a bit of tidying, deciding to do a few loads of laundry for him when you noticed there was quite a pile forming, and it must have been a week or so since the cleaning service he pays for came. 

You put some soft music on his speakers and lit a few candles in the kitchen as well, popping a bottle of white wine into the fridge so it’s ready for your dinner. 

You’ve just started chopping a few veggies to get a head start on dinner when you hear the sound of the front door opening followed by distant voices, one of which you immediately recognize as Mason.

“Do you hear that music?” 

The sound of your boyfriend’s voice after weeks apart fills your stomach with butterflies - you’re just as giddy to see him as you were in your early days of dating. 

“Probably the neighbours, mate,” Luke responds, still playing along with your ruse. 

“I don’t think-“

Finally, the guys turn the corner into the kitchen, and you see Mason come into view with Luke trailing behind him. His eyes widen in surprise for a moment, slightly startled by there being someone in his house, and then he realizes it’s you and his mouth falls open in shock.

“Surprise,” you say shyly, while Mason is still at a loss for words. 

He immediately drops his training bag to the floor and makes a beeline for you, pulling you into a tight hug and lifting you off your feet before you can even hug him back properly. 

You relax into his arms right away, squeezing him just as tightly as he’s squeezing you and breathing in the familiar scent of his soap and aftershave, freshly showered after training. It’s the same scent that lingers on the t-shirts and hoodies that you steal from him every time you come up, wearing them until you regrettably have to put them through the wash. 

“Baby,” Mason mumbles into your neck, pressing little kisses there. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I’m here,” you confirm, wrapping your legs around his waist as he refuses to set you down or let you go. “I missed you way too much to wait another three weeks.”

He pulls back far enough to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands sliding down to your thighs to support your weight as you kiss him back. You can feel the pieces of your world shifting back into place, your heart settling in your chest as you sink into his warmth.

Mason presses a few more quick pecks to your lips before reluctantly setting you down, arms still wrapped around you. It’s only then that you realize Luke is still here, shuffling awkwardly in the corner. 

“Thanks for your help, Luke,” you say with a shy smile, moving to Mason’s side. 

“Of course, the man never shuts up about how much he misses you, so it’s really a favour for me as well,” Luke jokes. “I’ll leave you guys. Enjoy your evening.”

“Thanks, mate,” Mason says with an eye roll and a grin before turning his attention back to you, pressing kisses to your head. 

“Night, Luke! Give my love to Anouska and the kids,” you call out, though you’ve also turned back to face Mason and bury your face in his chest. 

You remain in each other’s arms, just holding one another and breathing in and out for a minute or two. 

You knew you missed him, but you don’t think you realized quite how much until right now. It’s taken such a toll on both of you being apart for so long.

“How long are you staying?” Mason asks quietly, almost like he’s afraid of the answer, as he lightly rubs your lower back. 

“Until Monday morning,” you say. You wish it were longer, but three nights together is the best you’ve gotten in a long time. 

“Really?” Mason asks, pulling back and looking at you with bright eyes. “I thought you had to do your group assignment tomorrow?” 

“I pushed it to Monday, I had to come see you after we spoke last night.”

You reach up to cup Mason’s face with one hand, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. Judging by the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you, you know you were right to come. He’s obviously been struggling with the disappointment of the never-ending injuries, all the uncertainty it’s brought. 

“I’m okay,” he says softly, turning his face to press a kiss to your palm. “Now that you’re here, everything’s okay.”

You melt at his gentle words, but they don’t do much to ease your worries about his emotional wellbeing. 

Mason gives you a quick peck on the forehead before looking around the room, noticing the food you’re preparing and the cozy, romantic vibe you created for your evening. 

“What’s all this?” he asks, a small smile on his face. 

You’re not keen to drop the subject, but you don’t want to ruin your rare weekend together by bombarding him with questions either. You know he’ll talk about it when he’s ready. 

“I just ordered some food for dinner and restocked your fridge a bit,” you explain. “I figured you would be happy to stay in tonight, so I got stuff to make your favourite pasta.”

Before he can respond, the dryer beeps, signalling that the load is done. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you doing laundry?”

“I just threw a couple loads of your clothes in, I noticed you were running behind,” you shrug. 

Mason looks at you with complete awe, shaking his head in disbelief.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he says softly. “You being here is enough. It’s more than enough.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck once more. 

“I know, but I wanted tonight to be perfect and relaxing,” you explain, pecking his lips. “No stressing about football or school or anything else. Just you and me.”

“You’re amazing, Y/N,” Mason sighs, squeezing your waist. “Can I help you cook?”

“No, but you can pour us both a glass of wine from the bottle in the fridge and sit down and tell me about your day,” you smile, kissing him one more time before pulling away to return to your meal preparations. 

Mason does as told, sneaking another few kisses when he brings you over your glass, then sitting at one of the stools at the kitchen island.

You treasure this domesticity more than almost anything with him - the simple act of chatting about your days while making dinner is something you’ve missed terribly.

When the pasta is ready, you dish it out into two bowls and bring them over to the table. 

“God, I missed your cooking,” Mason grins as he dives into his portion, obviously starving after a day of training. “It’s delicious, babe.”

“Thanks, Mase,” you reply, pouring yourself a little bit more wine. “You want some more?”

“Might as well, it’s not like I’m playing tomorrow,” Mason says, the offhand comment hurting your heart much more than he intended. 

He’s still smiling at you as you pour his drink, but you don’t believe for a second that it’s real. 

“Do you want to go tomorrow?” you ask after a minute of silence while you both eat. “I know you usually go to the home games, right?”

Mason shrugs. “Yeah, we can if you want.”

Once again, you don’t press him further, listening as he changes the subject and starts updating you on Ben’s latest girl troubles. 

After you’ve finished and cleaned up, you head into the living room to catch up on the new episodes of Drive to Survive. You always save your favourite shows for when you’re together, sometimes dodging spoilers for weeks just so you can enjoy it properly with Mason.

The moment you sit down on the couch, Mason pulls you into his arms for the first real cuddle you’ve had in weeks. You very contently lean into him, resting your head on his chest and humming in delight as Mason slides his hand under your hoodie and begins to gently stroke your lower back. It’s not with the intention of anything sexual, though you’re sure that will come later, it’s just an innate need to be as close to you as possible. 

It’s the most relaxed you’ve felt since he left your flat in London three weeks ago, your body and mind decompressing with every moment spent in his arms. 

A few hours pass, and you can feel yourself growing tired, but you’re enjoying Mason’s commentary on the Alpine rivalry far too much to interrupt and suggest you go to bed. Your yawns are betraying you, though, and Mason begins to gently run his hand through your hair.

“You ready for bed, sweetheart?” he asks softly, kissing your forehead. 

“It’s so early,” you murmur as you glance at the time on your phone, barely past 9PM, yet you can’t contain another small yawn which makes Mason chuckle. “Sorry, I guess I’m tired out from the week.”

“No worries, we have the whole weekend,” Mason smiles. “Honestly, I’m a bit worn out too. Wanna go upstairs and I’ll get us some water?”

You nod as he stands and helps you to your feet, pressing one more gentle kiss to your forehead before heading into the kitchen. You make your way up the stairs to his bedroom and head into his ensuite bathroom. 

It occurs to you as you’re flicking the light on that you forgot to grab your toiletry bag from your suitcase in his room, and you’re just about to turn back for it when something catches your eye. On one of the shelves above the toilet, there’s an array of products that wasn’t here last time you visited. More specifically, there’s a version of just about every hair and skincare product you use on a regular basis, and you really doubt that Mason has taken up doing hair treatments or using Drunk Elephant serums.

Maybe it shouldn’t mean as much to you as it does - he’s always been thoughtful, and you know the expense of buying all this is nothing to him - but for some reason, the simple gesture nearly brings you to tears. 

Mason appears in the doorway a moment later, smiling softly at you.

“You okay, love?” 

“When did you buy all this stuff?” you ask, gesturing to the shelf. 

“Oh, uh, a couple days after the last time I came to London,” Mason says casually. “I took pictures of everything in your bathroom to make sure I got the right stuff, I just wanted to make it easier for you when you visit.”

As you look into his soft, sincere gaze, your love for him feels more overwhelming than ever. 

Which means your guilt does, too. 

“Mase, I’m so sorry I haven’t been up to visit more lately,” you say, your voice unsteady. “I know you’ve been struggling, and I know you’ve been keeping a lot of it from me because I’m busy with uni, but you’re my priority and I should’ve-“

“Hey,” Mason says gently, interrupting you with a hand reaching up to cup your cheek. “Don’t ever apologize for focusing on your studies. I know how hard you’ve been working, and I’m so proud of you. You don’t need to worry about me, I’m gonna be fine.”

“It’s not fine,” you shake your head, tears now streaming down your face. “You’ve always been there for me, and now you’re in a new city and a new club and you’ve been dealing with injuries and I’m all the way across the country.”

“Y/N, we knew this would be hard, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t,” Mason says, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. “But it’s not your fault I moved clubs while you still had a degree to finish, or that I’ve had a tough season. Some things are out of our control.”

You know he’s right, but it doesn’t make it any easier. Hearing his sad, defeated voice on the phone after a disappointing medical assessment or bad game and not being able to hold him has been one of the hardest things you’ve ever done.

“I just worry about you being here all alone,” you say quietly. “I know you have your teammates and you spend a lot of time with Luke, but in London you had me and all your friends and your family was closer and - I just hate that I’m not with you.”

“You’re here right now,” Mason says, pressing his forehead to yours for a moment. “You dropped everything to come see me today, babe. You have no idea how much that meant.”

“I would do it every weekend if I could.”

“I know,” he says with a sad smile. “And I would leave all of this and spend my time helping you study and supporting you if I could, but this is our reality for a little while longer, angel.”

You sigh, nodding in agreement and staring into his big brown eyes that bring you so much comfort. 

“I’ve just missed you so much,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. 

His own arms circle your waist and tug you impossibly closer, his nose buried in your hair so he can breathe you in.

“I know, baby, I’ve missed you too,” he exhales. “So, so much.”

You hold him for a while longer, cherishing every brush of his hand against your back and every kiss he presses to your temple. You want to memorize the feeling of his touch, so when you’re back in your bed in London a few days from now you can close your eyes and try to imagine you’re still in his arms.

After a few minutes, you break apart to finish preparing for bed. You brush your teeth together then go through your skincare routine while Mason watches fondly, letting you put some moisturizer on him when you’re done with it. Then he strips down to just his boxers, teasing you lovingly when you obviously check him out, and passes you a comfy t-shirt from his drawer to change into. You make a mental note to fill up your suitcase with a few of his hoodies before you leave - the ones you have at home no longer smell like him. 

You climb into the bed together, noticing that the side you usually sleep on has all of its pillows in place and that the nightstand is almost empty except for the glass of water he set down for you. Like he’s still been leaving that space for you even when you’re not there to fill it. 

“C’mere,” Mason says immediately, tugging you into his chest. 

You relax against him, laying your head over his heartbeat and tracing his tattoos with your finger.

“Will you tell me how you’ve really been feeling lately?” you ask in a gentle voice. He immediately tenses, and you know he still doesn’t want to discuss it, but you’re not leaving Manchester without talking to him about this. “I saw the look on your face when I asked about the game tomorrow, babe. Please just talk to me.” 

“I don’t want to burden you with all this,” Mason says, refusing to meet your gaze. “I know how busy you are-“

“I told you, you’re my priority, Mase,” you insist. “And it’s actually more concerning when I don’t know what’s going on with you. If you talk to me, then maybe I can help.”

Mason sighs and moves into a more upright position, still holding your hand and playing with your fingers as a way of grounding himself as he gathers his thoughts. 

“I just never thought it would be like this, you know?” he mutters. “I thought that coming here would solve everything I was going through at Chelsea, but in a lot of ways it’s been even harder.”

You nod for him to continue, gently squeezing his hand.

“I thought when all the contract stuff was resolved and I was at a new club everything would be fine, but then it’s just been constant injuries and trying to adjust to a whole new life without actually being able to do the thing I love most,” he goes on, making your heart splinter even more. “Fifty-five million pounds and I don’t have a single goal to show for it.”

“You can’t help that you’ve been injured, baby,” you say softly, though you know he already knows that. “If you were in top form, you’d be scoring goals all over the place. I know it.”

He smiles slightly, always grateful for your neverending confidence in him. You’ve been his biggest fan from the moment you met, cheering him on through every high and low of his career. 

“Maybe, but I haven’t had the chance to try,” he mutters. “I’m just stuck here, being useless to the club and hours away from you. I basically upended our lives just to end up not playing for months.”

“Mase, if I’m not allowed to feel guilty for us being apart, neither are you,” you say firmly. “Coming to United was the right decision. It may not feel like it now, but I promise it will in the long run. And if not, we’ll find a new place for you to show everyone how amazing of a footballer you are. Even if it’s in a different city or another country, we’ll figure it out.”

“Babe, I feel bad enough that you’re moving away from London to be here next year, I’m not gonna ask you to move again,” Mason says, still fiddling with your fingers. “I have to make it work here.”

“And I’m sure you will as soon as you’re better,” you tell him, bringing your joined hands to your lips. “But if it ends up not being a good fit, I will happily follow you anywhere you want to go.”

“Even the States?” Mason jokes, making you roll your eyes and poke him the ribs. “It would be cool to play with Messi.”

“You are not going to the MLS any time soon,” you reprimand him. “But yes, I would go to Florida for you, babe. That is how much I love you.”

Mason laughs, moving your joined hands so it’s his turn to lay kisses on your knuckles.

“Wouldn’t be so bad. The weather’s good, and we could hang out with the Beckhams,” he says, smiling against your skin. “We could take our kids to the beach-“

“Oh, our kids, huh?” you remark, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well, by the time I’m actually ready to play in the MLS…” 

“Alright, we’ll move to Florida with our hypothetical children in ten years,” you say decisively. “Then you can retire and stay home with them while I work.”

“I could take them to Disney World every day,” Mason sighs happily. “Oh, and the Harry Potter thing! Our kids would love that.” 

As much as you’re both joking, the thought of a time in the future when you’re settled with a family and not having to deal with all the separation and uncertainty makes your heart feel warm and fuzzy. You can’t wait to have a family with him someday. 

“In all seriousness, babe, you’ve already accomplished so much in your career and I know you’re going to do so many more amazing things,” you tell him, reaching out to cup his cheek. “And even more importantly, you are such an incredible person off the pitch.“

Mason blushes, leaning into your palm and holding it to his face so you don’t withdraw your touch. You know he struggles to take compliments sometimes, but you also know that this is something he needs to hear. 

“Which is why I refuse to listen to you call yourself useless when you do so much for your family, the community, for me - you make everything better, Mase,” you say softly. “That’s why are so loved. It’s why I fell in love with you, not because of your job.”

He takes a moment to soak up what you’re saying, still holding your hand to his face and pressing a few kisses to your palm. 

“You mean you’re not in it for the money?” he says after a minute, eliciting an eye roll from you. 

“It’s mostly for the money, but the abs don’t hurt either,” you tease, poking his stomach and making him laugh out loud for the first time in as long as you can remember. 

Mason pulls you into his arms again, leaning back and tucking you into his chest so your nose is pressed to his neck. You give him another tight squeeze, unable to get enough of his cuddles.

“Thank you so much, baby,” he mumbles into your hair as he slowly rubs his hand over your back. ��For coming and for making me talk about this stuff. You always know exactly what I need.”

“Of course, my love,” you murmur. “Just promise me you’ll keep talking to me, okay? I don’t care how busy I am, I want to know what’s going on with you.”

“I promise,” Mason swears, squeezing your hand that rests over his heart. “And the same goes for you. I know how stressful this term has been, but I’m always here even if I can’t physically be there to help.”

“I know you are,” you smile. “And I know you’re the reason Ben or Woody brought me dinner or care packages before every midterm. They wouldn’t admit it, but I suspected they were under orders to check in on me.”

Mason chuckles. “Yeah, well, gotta send in the subs when I can’t do it myself.”

You hug him even tighter, throwing a leg over his and letting him shift you back into a more comfortable position for sleep. You’re yawning again, the exhaustion finally catching up to you now that the worry gnawing at your mind over Mason has been relieved.

“So, for tomorrow,” you say, your voice lower now that you’re both getting sleepy. “I think we should go to the game with Luke and Anouska, she already texted me and asked us to come over for dinner afterward. That way you and Luke can show your faces at Old Trafford and we can spend some time with them and the kids. Then, you and I can come back home and have a bit of a romantic night in.”

Mason doesn’t respond right away, and you give him a moment before you look up at him to see if something’s wrong. But when you do, you see only an adoring gaze and gentle smile on his face.

“Is that plan good with you?” you ask, “we don’t have to do any of it, I just thought-“

“No, no, it sounds perfect,” Mason cuts you off. “You’re perfect. I was just thinking about how much I love you.”

Your heart melts even more for him, if that’s possible, and you can’t resist leaning in to press another lingering kiss to his lips.

“I love you too,” you say, pressing a few more kisses to his cheeks and nose for good measure. “Now, let’s get a good night’s sleep so I can show you how much I love you in the morning, yeah?”

Mason nods with childlike enthusiasm, making you giggle again as you lay your head back on his chest. 

You can’t wait for the time to come that all of your nights end like this, curled up next to the love of your life, but for now, you’re grateful for this one.

No matter how many miles are between you, your heart is always gonna be wherever Mason is. He’s your home, whether you’re on opposite ends of the globe or in the same bed. 

You sleep better than you have in months.

please leave me a comment if you enjoyed this or send me an ask just to chat, love hearing from all of you xx

[steviewashere]

If Found, Return to Me

Rating: General CW: Implied Sex (Mild), Mild Panic Attacks Tags: Post Canon, Post Season 4, Established Relationship, Humor and Hijinks, Eddie Munson is a Little Shit, Steve Harrington is a Little Shit, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Panic Attacks, Dork Eddie Munson, Dork Steve Harrington, 3+1

Okay, the idea was going to be a 5+1, but I couldn't get past three ideas without feeling the crawl of burn-out, so I lowered it to three. But this is based on This Post from @apomaro-mellow

👕—————👕 1. He grips the hem of his shirt and tugs. Chin tucked into his neck so that he can read the text, which is bold and black and dark on the white background. ‘If found, return to Steve.’ Eddie groans. “Do we seriously have to wear these?” He whines.

Steve stands in front of him. Hands on his hips. One foot cocked. “Yes, Eddie,” he answers emphatically. Even a little annoyed. Which, sue Eddie for having to ask over and over, but it’s sort of embarrassing. Especially when his boyfriend is wearing a similar shirt that just reads: ‘I’m Steve’. Makes Eddie look sort of childish, if you were to ask him. “If I’m taking you out of town, to a place I’ve never been before for a convention—something I’d probably never even go to—you absolutely have to wear that shirt. Knowing you, you’ll see some action figure stand and I’ll be abandoned by the comic books.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Or, y’know, we can just link arms and walk around the convention center?” Steve only widens his eyes and raises an eyebrow. He groans again. “Okay, fine! We’ll wear these stupid t-shirts.” His head tilts back, eyes to the ceiling of their hotel. Huffs through his nose. “I don’t even know how you got these,” he grumbles, “I’d rather not know.”

Sure, Eddie’s prone to running off. He gets excited, okay? Especially when it’s something he knows a lot about, or something he’s been hunting down for literal years, or if it’s a thing he can surprise the people around him with. Thinking of the last time he wandered off and Steve had to practically scruff him, it’d been while he was purchasing a dice set for Dustin’s birthday. So maybe Steve has a point. And maybe it’s sort of a genius idea. Eddie just wants to be stubborn about this, it’d save him the humiliation.

Except, he’s still wearing the shirt (Steve in his matching one) when they finally get through the doors of the convention center. There’s people in costumes all around them: Spock and Kirk, Marty McFly, Indiana Jones, Predator, and a few kids with their dads all dressed like those ponies that Erica likes. Something in Eddie trills. And he’s already a few steps ahead of Steve before he knows it. Steve trails behind him, wonder and awe shining in his own eyes, trying to keep up with Eddie’s frantic nature.

But then they’re not even close to each other. They buy lunch a couple hours in. Steve gets a large lemonade and downs it like he’s never had something to drink before. And then Eddie’s being told, “Please wait here by the bathrooms. Don’t go do anything stupid.”

He’s leaning against the wall that reads: ‘Restrooms’. Arms intertwined over his chest. Legs crossed on one another. In the distance, his eyes lock onto a Dungeons & Dragons booth. There’s tall shelves stocked with every mini figure he could ever pray for. A few long tables that showcase various maps, dungeon master screens, and little trays for dice. However, there’s an odd rack in the booth. A hat stand. And on it, he spots the perfect thing for Steve. It’s probably expensive, Eddie debates with himself, but it’s Indiana Jones’ hat. His feet are moving before he registers the people walking past him.

And then he’s there. Holding a classic fedora hat between his hands. Turning it around in his hold. Thumbing at the material; marveling at how smooth and buttery soft the fabric is. He spots the price tag, ‘$8.00’. It’s not a terrible price. Isn’t damaged in any way. So he keeps it in his left hand, grabs a paladin mini figure in his right, and purchases both items. Bag in hand, he moves to leave the booth, but is stopped by a gentle hand tapping on his right shoulder.

He turns and is met with a girl. She’s level with his chest, eyes wide and calculating, hand retreating back to her side. “Hi—um—you don’t know me at all, but I found somebody named Steve looking for you,” she states, “I saw your shirt and figured you were the guy he was talking about.”

Eddie slumps. A part of him can’t believe the stupid shirt even worked. “Yeah, it’s probably me that he’s looking for,” he sighs. “Take me to him.”

She’s hard to follow in the crowd of people. Shorter than most and extremely quick. But she links his arm with hers and practically drags him back towards the bathrooms. And there he is, Steve Harrington with his hands on his hips, a furrow to his brow, mouth thin-lined. “Eddie,” Steve greets. He smiles, though it’s not all that sweet, but kind enough for this stranger that had to shepherd Eddie. The girl leaves them. And Steve steps closer to Eddie, crosses his arms over his chest, and then has the gall to snort. He raises a hand and plucks at Eddie’s t-shirt, directly on the word: ‘Found’. “Looks like my stupid t-shirt worked,” he snarks. The sass to this guy is unbelievable.

“Yeah, har har, laugh it up,” Eddie says dryly. “Maybe you don’t want the little gift I got for you.”

Steve perks up. Eyes glowing with curiosity. “What’d you get?”

Eddie rolls his eyes and smirks. Digs into his bag and flaunts the hat. “Saw it at a D&D booth, surprisingly. Probably would’ve been something we walked by, had I not…wandered.” He steps a little closer into Steve’s space, sets the hat on top of his head, and nods in approval. “Think that this purchase was a success. You look dashing, Mr. Jones.”

In a flurry of movement, Steve snatches the hat from off the top of his head. Gaping at it. “Eds,” he breathes, “this is so fucking cool.” He places it back where it was, pulling it tight to his hairline, and grins brightly. “Thank you, but also please don’t leave me alone here,” he says, “I got worried.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmurs sheepishly. “Just thought about how excited you’d be about the hat and couldn’t resist. Won’t happen again, promise.”

Steve chuckles. “I know it will, but that’s what the stupid shirts are for. Anyway…Can we go look at the Lego set-up that we passed by in hall E? I think I saw a spaceship and—“

“Lead the way, Indy.” He might have to buy his own shirts with how Steve bounds away from him.

——— 2. “If…Lost?!” Eddie exclaims. “Steve, what the fuck? Why—How—Where the hell are you getting these t-shirts?” He asks. They’re at Steve’s house, getting ready for a day trip in Chicago. And, sure, Eddie’s never been in his life. Doesn’t know the streets of Chicago like the back of his hand. Maybe Steve does know more about where they’re going, but that doesn’t change just how ridiculous this shirt is. How it glares at him in the bathroom mirror.

Steve sidles up next to him. His t-shirt the same as the one from the convention. He wraps an arm around Eddie’s waist. Rests his head on his shoulder. “I have my ways,” he states ominously. “And, again, I know you. Your sense of direction is practically non-existent. You can’t deny that, baby. The only reason you found Skull Rock is because you stumbled upon it.”

“I was on the run, couldn’t exactly look at a map,” he grumbles. “But do we have to—“

“Yes,” Steve sighs. “Now, can you come out to the car with me? I’m ready to go.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but does as he’s asked. Sits in the passenger seat. Shuffles through the radio stations. Teases Steve for his taste in tapes. But then they’re parking, getting out, walking around the city.

He follows Steve…for a while. Into a record shop. In the back of a diner, playing footsie under the table. Then he goes down a side street. Following a guy in a white t-shirt, hair high on his head, Adidas sneakers on his feet. However, the guy turns slightly. And…that’s not Steve. Eddie’s not sure how long he’s been following this stranger, or when he started, or from where he started from. Tries to rake through his brain to the last time he heard Steve talk about the street they were originally on, but there’s nothing. The words and names escape him.

He’s stranded in a city he’s never been to. Down a street he should’ve never come across. Wearing the most humiliating t-shirt known to mankind. Somewhere, again he’s not sure, behind him Steve is probably standing by some shop entrance, hands on his hips and a scowl perfectly framed on his face. And Eddie can’t help but panic. Standing with his back against the nearest wall. Breathing through his mouth like he’s about to beef it on the sidewalk. Eyes darting over and under and left and right. Trying to find semblance of normal, any little speckle of Steve. Something.

It’s not until he’s nearly sick to his stomach, churning and flipping and knotting, that a different stranger makes their presence known. They gently invade his space. Voice soft as they notice his panic. “Hey man, are you Eddie?” They ask. He nods way too quick, but sidelines the blur to his vision because talking to this stranger seems hopeful. Especially since they know his name. “Okay, cool,” the stranger mutters, “I ran into your…friend. Steve was on the verge of a nervous breakdown when I spotted him, said he couldn’t find you, but didn’t know where to look. So I volunteered to find you. And—well—judging by your shirt, I can gladly and safely reunite you guys. If you…If you wanna follow me.”

“Please,” Eddie murmurs, “I don’t know where I am.”

The trip back to Steve is arduous. Through crowds of people and past noisy cars. Bustling shops and the waft of various seasonings from a number of restaurants. But sure enough, Steve is on some precipice. His hair a mess and face pinched nervously. Then, he spots Eddie. Eyes lighting, clearing and glistening. A look of ‘I want to touch, but know I can’t.’

When he sidles up next to Steve after the stranger leaves, he carefully joins their hands. “I followed a complete stranger for probably thirty minutes,” Eddie admits, whispering. “His hair looked similar. And he was also wearing a white t-shirt. I got so scared, Steve.”

“Well, at least our stupid shirts worked again, right?” Steve asks, breathless and still verging breakdown.

Eddie squeezes their hands. “Can we go home, please? This is gonna sound crazy, but I think I prefer middle of nowhere Hawkins. At least I know where everything is.”

Steve nods rapidly. “I need to touch you in ways I can’t right now. Let’s go.” And then he tugs their hands, pulling them along sidewalks and through groups of people, down a couple side streets. It’s partially worth it, in the end. Definitely with the way Eddie’s skin is now decorated with Steve’s love, sticky and warm with it, too.

——— 3. The shirts end up following them to the Indiana State Fair.

Steve stops them at the front entrance, right after the ticket booth, and makes Eddie face him. “Listen to me,” he murmurs, voice low and near demanding. “If I turn my back for a second and you are gone, I will lose my absolute shit. Got it? Do not make me have to keep a rope tied to your belt loop.”

Eddie groans. “I get it, Steve. Can we at least try and enjoy ourselves?”

And they do for the most part. Steve plays at a few game stalls. Eddie carries the prizes. Their legs interlock underneath a picnic table, sharing greasy funnel cake and way too sour lemonade freezes. They watch a few performers, pet some fair animals, judge prized pigs like they know what they’re doing.

But then the ferris wheel comes up and Eddie sees an opportunity already forming. Like dots connecting or the stars aligning. He wants to drag Steve through the line and sit with him in one of the seats, wait for the wheel to stop at just the right height, and kiss him as the lights dim low and the darkness of the sky envelops them. Though, because he always misses a few steps in his plans, he doesn’t tell Steve that they’re going to the ferris wheel. Just starts walking. Shoving past other couples and accidentally sidelining a couple kids. He sneaks around large families. Maybe bribes a few people to let up on the ride’s queue.

Then, Eddie turns to his left. Where Steve is.

Or…Where Steve should have been.

“Shit,” Eddie spits. “Steve?” He calls over his shoulder. Frantically, he whips around in line. Eyes wide over people’s heads. Shoving them out of the way, albeit a little rough. Spreads the line into two little rows. But he comes up unsuccessful.

Until, right on cue, a stranger is tapping on his shoulder. Instead of letting them go into their whole spiel, he just sighs defeated, “Take me to him.”

There are no words exchanged. Not when Eddie follows behind, head bowed to the ground, dragging his feet like a petulant child. And then he stops where he sees Steve’s shoes, the bright blue Adidas sneakers he’d recognize anywhere.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “Thought you were with me.”

Steve just sighs. Something kind of disappointed that shrivels Eddie slightly. “Where’d you even go?” Steve calmly asks.

Eddie finally looks to him, his eyes pleading. “The ferris wheel, but…But! In my defense, I thought you were with me. And I was going to get us a seat on the ride. Was gonna wait until it got up to the highest point and do something cheesy like kiss you…or blow you, whatever. But I—“

“Why didn’t you just ask me, Eds?” Steve laughs with his full body, deep from within his stomach. “We can do that, babe. All you gotta do is ask, y’know?”

“I didn’t think—“

“I know you didn’t,” Steve teases. “Seems like my stupid t-shirt idea worked again. That’s three times, you dork.” Eddie can only groan. He knows that he has a bad habit of wandering, doesn’t mean that the idea is any less annoying or dumb. “Come on, Eds. Stop throwing a fit. Let’s do your thing.”

“You sure?”

“Eddie, if you don’t kiss or blow me on that ferris wheel, I’m banning D&D at my place for a month. Let’s go.”

When they get off and start walking back to the car, Steve tugs on the back of Eddie’s jeans. He yelps, startled, but quickly shuts his mouth when he’s faced with a stern look. “You know what I just remembered?” Steve asks him. There’s mirth in his eyes. Eddie doesn’t trust this at all. “Earlier, when I was telling you about wandering, I mentioned maybe tethering you to a rope. I might have to do that. Since you can’t behave.”

Eddie heats from the inside out. A coil tightens in his stomach. “You couldn’t even if you tried,” he bites back.

Later, he finds out, Steve is exceptional with rope. What a fucking boy scout.

——— +1 The Mall of America didn’t earn its title for nothing. The place was huge, that much Eddie could discern. Which made perfect sense when buying the new and improved: ‘If found, return to…’ shirts. However, this time, it was Steve with ‘If Found’ t-shirt.

At first, Steve didn’t know how to feel about the new shirts. Simply because he didn’t seem to see a reason for why he’d get lost or wander or be found in any capacity. But given the surprise Eddie had for him, the reason definitely fit the bill.

What Steve didn’t know, that Eddie one hundred percent knew, was that a Lego store was opening up at the mall. Or, has been opened at the mall. It was the perfect time for a little road trip. A little Fall of 1992 trip to Minnesota. Driving by trees and such. Parking in the Mall of America’s lot. Figuring out what stores to hit first, what food they wanted to eat, where the bathrooms were located. Typical day out sort of things.

However, one moment Steve was with him and the next…Eddie was scouring the food court for his fiancé. Trying not to throw up the meager lunch he just had. Swallowing down panic after panic after panic that rose in his chest like tsunami waves. This place was too big for either of them to wander or get lost or have a mind of their own. Not with the way they impulsively purchases things, an awful habit they both exuded—today is the worst day to do just that.

Which leads him to tapping on the shoulder of a guy around his age. Who’s carrying two large yellow Lego bags. Just sitting back in one of the food court chairs, minding his own business. Until, he whips around to find Eddie startled and red faced. “Uh…Can I help you, man?” The stranger greets.

“Sorry, hi,” Eddie says. “I just—You look like somebody who can maybe help me. I’m looking for my…friend, his name is Steve. Uh—White, around my height, dirty blonde hair. He’s wearing a pair of near skin tight Levi jeans, light wash and a white t-shirt that matches mine. Except, his says ‘If found, return to Eddie’. I’m Eddie, by the way. Anyway—Uh, you probably just came from the Lego store, yeah?”

“Sure,” the guy says, completely unsure of this interaction. “Why do you need to know—“

“So you can like lead me there? I’ve never been there. And like he’s really obsessed with those damn sets and like that’s really cool or whatever, but I need to know where he is because we’re from out of town and I have no fucking clue what I’m doing in this mall or where to—“

“Alright, dude, calm down,” guy placates. “We’ll find your friend. Just…That store is pretty fucking busy. Really popular, you know? I’ll take you there, but with how panicked you are, it would be best if you waited by the entrance of the store. Is that…”

“That’s perfectly fine to me!” Eddie nearly shouts. 

He follows on this person’s heels. Bobbing and weaving through crowds of other over-consumers. Maybe shoving a few of them out of the way just so he can stay with that guy. But eventually, they make it to the outside of the rather precarious Lego store. Its yellow storefront nauseating to Eddie. Almost—Genuinely frustrating him beyond belief. And he sees Steve. Standing near the back of the store. Staring up at one of the shelves, but he lets the stranger he found grab Steve for him. Because no way in hell is Eddie going to survive being swallowed up by the awfully large crowd swamping the store.

Steve emerges from the crowd, a bit offended and a lot upended. But then has the gall to appear sheepish when he’s led directly to Eddie. With a nod and a tight smile, Eddie waves the stranger off. Almost wants to run back and get his name, send him a thank you card from the Hallmark store he saw on their way there.

He turns to face Steve, though. Leans them into the wall. “Jesus, Steve,” Eddie groans. “Is this what you put up with?”

“Is what—“

“The fucking panic? The—The whirling around and checking in the weird obscure places? Tapping on stranger’s shoulders only to see if they have a single goddamn idea where anything is…ever? Like—“ He sighs. “I thought that I’d never find you, Steve! You could’a at least told me you were going to go somewhere on your own. Maybe give me an idea of where you’re going?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Oh, so now that’s important to you?” He petulantly mutters. “Can’t go off and have fun without being pestered—“

“I’m not pestering, Steve!” Eddie grits. “I’m being concerned! I’m—You scared me,” he admits quietly. “And you ruined my surprise.”

“Ruined?” Steve echoes, confused. “What do you…oh. Oh. I—“ Then, Steve looks down to the floor. Eyes ashamed and arms tight to his body. “I didn’t…I was just excited, I’m sorry. The store was on the directory when we first came in and I like—“ He chuckles a little bit, loosening up. “—I fucking memorized where to go. What path to take. Because I just really wanted to look in there. They’ve got—Eddie, they have this one set in there, it’s a freaking spaceship and it’s called the…The Galactic Meditator or something? I can’t—That doesn’t matter,” he rambles. Takes a deep breath and pushes himself tighter into Eddie’s space. “I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eddie gives a single nod. Closes his eyes and staves off the rest of his panic and anger. He’d be a hypocrite if he lashed out right now. He knows that. And, honestly, seeing Steve geek out about toys…of all things…is kind of endearing. Maybe even doing something for Eddie.

He puts on his best smile, something genuine and pulled from within him. “It’s alright,” he whispers. “I—I should’ve known that you were going to come over here.”

“I mean, you did a little bit, right? Had to find somebody that led you here?”

“You got me,” Eddie breathes. “Y’know all my tricks.”

Steve hums beside him. “I’m actually sorry, though, that I ruined the surprise you had in mind. This is a pretty cool thing.”

Eddie smirks. “Steve Harrington admitting to a geek thing being cool…When did the tables turn?” He teases. “Seems like God has heard my prayers,” he jests. With a quick sneaky look around, he grabs Steve’s hand. Squeezes firmly and exhales the last bit of his panicked nerves. “Does my fiancé want to…Oh, I don’t know…Get a Lego set?”

The hand in his tightens with a harsh, unbelieving amount of strength. He almost winces. “Really?” Steve asks, perking up. If he had a tail, it would most definitely be wagging. “Can we actually? I really want that one that I found in there, the uh…Galactic whatever it was called. I’m bad at the names, which is weird because I’ve been building these sets for a while, but I always seem to get the names wrong and I—“ Eddie interrupts with a squeeze to his hand again, a smile bright and plastered to his face. “Sorry,” Steve sheepishly says, “Let’s go in there. I can show you and maybe…you can get one of your own?”

“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s cheek, leaving a very chaste but all the same kiss there.

The panic was worth it in the end. Because watching Steve in his element, nerd-ing over toys and how to best put them together, really makes Eddie’s chest warm. In a way that tells him he’d put up with wandering all his life, if only to get Steve to smile the way he does when proudly displaying his new spaceship.

👕—————👕

[thatsdemko]

the one where they notice - c.sainz

part 2: pining series

pining series masterlist

warnings: ig au posts + lighthearted jokes

a/n: thanks for all the love on part 1!! 🫶🫶

F1GOSSIP

liked by pierregasly, chilisainz, norrizsainz, and 1,368 others.

F1GOSSIP: our favorite Ferrari intern is BACK! y/n y/l/n shared this photo from the race in Australia☺️ we can’t wait to see more from her this 2023 season!

300 comments

norrissainz: we stan y/n!!!

gaslygaze: she’d look so good with Carlos… 👀

leclerc55sainz: she’s too hot for Carlos

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bottaszhou: Pierre what are you doing here???

—

“so you’re too hot for me, eh?” the words startled you, as you had thought to have been alone. you arrived to qualifying much earlier than the drivers, and thinking you’d have time alone, you figured you’d catch up on your socials having no idea Carlos would see the comment.

“word travels fast around here.” you set your phone down, watching him slide into the empty seat across from you in the garage. it’s just the two of you waiting for everyone to pile in for the meeting. a hot steaming cup of coffee beans fills the smell of the room.

“now that I’m single, I have much more free time to listen to the gossip.” he comments, a chuckle escaping his lips before he sips the hot contents.

you just shake your head. the man across from you was nothing more than a coworker, maybe even an occasional friend from time to time, but you never got close. it was your rule, getting close meant you began to care for the men you worked with, and as much as you did care for them, they couldn’t be your friends. their obligations were to listen to your demands for media presence and that was as far as the contract went.

“you should spend more time on the simulator. spend your lonely nights perfecting your game.” your low blow earned a nod in approval, raising his cup to give you that point.

the silence fills the room. nothing but the sound of him slurping on the hot contents as bodies begin to move into the room for the meeting, and soon enough everyone’s seated.

the silence that once was there, has been born into commotion and you just listen to the mixture of Italian, French, and English flying every which way. your ears and eyes focus on Carlos and Charles conversation, the two always laughing and chatting, you can see Carlos relax with his team. the drama of yesterday and today seem to fade in these walls.

“let’s get started, shall we? we’ve got lots to talk about with Baku on the clock.”

—

qualifying goes rather difficult for one of the Ferraris. the grimace on your face is noticeable once Carlos steps out the car. he flashes a thumbs up to your phone camera for instagram and you quickly post it before shoving the device in your pocket, “we’ll get ‘em tomorrow, sainz. vamos.” you push him in the direction of the media pen and he follows.

“let’s just hope we can. I don’t have much faith left.” he exchanges his helmet for a cap from another intern, before entering the media pen. you don’t get much to say before interviewers swarm him, but like he always does, he flashes you his pearly fake smile before turning to the cameras.

he’d been doing it with you since you told him all of his emotions lie on the surface of his face. his fans can tell when he’s truly not happy, so you made a deal to help teach him how to fake a smile when times were bad.

“no you still look mad! smile with your eyes, dumbass.” you laugh pushing his cheeks to go wider, his giggle grows inside the motorhome, “I’m trying!”

“Carlos, what happened out there?”

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CARLOS AND Y/N???

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f1gossip

liked by peppersainz, y/nstannie, gaslec, & 1,357 others.

f1gossip: seems like things could be spicing up for chili? we noticed the way he looked at our y/n! thoughts?

210 comments

sainz55: he’s not even been single for 30 minutes and he’s making eyes at her?

dr3norris: it’s just an inside thing they do!! it’s nothing serious

russellgeorge: I would love to see it! she’s always been on his side(and have you noticed she always posts him in her photo dumps)

f1gossip: you’re onto something here 👀

tags: @arian-directioner @alilstressyandlotdepressy @ak0ma @ruebennett89 @mochimommy2002 @flyingmushroomss @icarus-nex @solo-pitstop-vibes @xjval @chimchimjiminie16 @tifosirussell @celestialpierre @moonvr @laneyspaulding19 @myescapefromthislife @formula1mount @moonyschocolate13 @bbubbllejisoo @summerslike11 @imperfectophelia @bhiees

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