#mick is so boy shaped

[russilton]

They still haven’t actually met but I think they should kiss- the Schuvesti agenda

If the Merc main drivers are in love, why not their reserves?

Edit: pose credit - Kibbitzer

#schuvesti #schusti #frick #the rarest pair to rare pair but I’m immensely fond of them with my entirety #mick is so boy shaped #Fred looks like actual spun sunshine #it just works #trust me I’m writing a fic - it works okay #thanks to Marie and susi for holding my hand as I figured out how to draw these two

[thebearchives]

paper-thin walls | m.s.

PAIR. neighbour!mick schumacher x single mother!reader

SUMM. noisy neighbours was the last thing mick was expecting after the long f1 season. he's tired, he's stressed, and believe it or not, he's ready to give his neighbour a piece of his damn mind.

WC. 5.6k

NOTES. first fic of 2023, everyone cheer!! i'm trying out new styles of writing, so please lmk how you found this fic.

WARNINGS include excessive use of the word 'fuck' (i'm sorry), and...shirtless mick? as always, don't be a ghost reader!

rest and relaxation, mick. that’s what toto had told him before he waved him off at the airport. we need you in prime shape for the next season.

mick tossed in his bed, migraine prickling the back of his head as another screech came from the wall beside him. 

look like you haven’t slept in months, mate. george had thrown an arm over his shoulder, cheeky smile playing on his lips as he brought a finger up to poke the obvious bags under mick’s eye. look alive, mick. it’s only gonna get worse from here.

it wasn’t official yet, but soon, news would drop about lewis’ retirement and mick’s subsequent promotion to the empty mercedes seat. he supposed that george was right. the season had only just ended and yet already, his shared calendar was filling up faster and faster with events, testing sessions, and appearances for the new season.

i’ll tell you this now. get all the sleep you can get this break. lewis rolled his shoulders back, stretching his neck side-to-side. the now eighth-time champion yawned loudly, muttering about how he was glad to be escaping the early mornings of simulator practice that happened closer to the start and end of the off season. 

mick couldn’t help the sigh that escaped his lips. it was strange, really, how quickly the idea of sleep had turned from attainable to something as out-of-reach as his seat on the grid had been the year prior. except, only his fight for his seat came with much less crying and screaming from his next door neighbour.

now listen, mick didn’t hate kids, alright. in fact, his older sister had brought a wonderful little boy into the world some years ago, and mick didn’t like to brag, but he was certain he was his nephew’s favourite uncle;

( “you’re also his only uncle, mick.” gina rolled her eyes as she watched mick toss her son up in the air. 

mick waved her off, laughing along with his nephew. “i’m still his favourite, aren’t i, jonah?” 

he had directed the second half of his sentence to the boy in his arms who, when addressed, nodded rapidly and smiled at his mom with his crooked teeth. 

“yeah, mama! uncle mickie is the best uncle in the whoooooole world!” )

so, yeah, it was fair to say mick liked kids. but when that kid is crying her little lungs out at 2:53 in the morning for the third night in a row? yeah, that’s when he draws a line. 

a beat passed before another set of pitiful whines reverberated from the wall. mick pulled the pillow out from under him, and stuffed it over his head instead, hoping to drown out the sounds. 

his first order of business as a mercedes amg driver? move the fuck out. 

your eyes were red, beady with unshed tears as the figurative hammers slammed against your head. 

amelia was sick— had been for the past three days now. you had been trying to soothe her cries for the past hour, but to no avail. your heart broke to see your little angel’s face contort in pain as her whole body ached. 

it’s a simple cold. your pediatrician had told you such with a small smile. she was holding on to a red lollipop that she reached over and handed to amelia. the two-year-old had reluctantly reached out and grabbed it before rushing back against your side. her forehead was burning up as you pushed her bangs away from her face, face visibly worried. it’s viral, hon. the seasons are changing. nothing to worry about.

you had a sneaking suspicion that the lady from the fourth floor with the hacking cough had been the one to infect your little girl. if only the elevator doors had closed on her that day.

( you pressed the ‘door close’ button repeatedly, willing it to close before anne from the fourth floor would reach the elevator. 

amelia giggled with each press of the button. “i wanna try! i wanna try! mommy, please can i try?” she had stood on her tippy-toes, teetering over and grabbing onto your dress as support. 

you smiled, hand leaving the button to instead ruffle her hair. “it’s all yours, little lady. have at it.”

amelia reached over and pushed her finger against the ‘door open’ button. you held in a groan as the door jerked in the opposite direction. you tutted lightly, pushing amelia’s finger to the next button over. “wrong button, baby.”

amelia ‘ohh’ed,  finger pushing against the button one again, but it was too late.

you watched as anne rushed to the elevator door with a rejuvenated fervor, wanting so badly for the doors to close right before she got on. you prayed to schindler elevators that the doors would close on her.

schindler elevators inc. was unfortunately not a god, and thus, anne got on.

“good afternoon, dear.” anne sniffled out, turning to look at the little girl in front of you. “thank you for waiting, dearie.”

amelia smiled, “you’re welcome! what floor?” 

anne coughed loudly. you tried to hide your grimace. “fourth, please.”

the doors finally closed and amelia tugged on your dress once again. you smiled at her hopeless face, reaching up to press the fourth floor button. 

anne had coughed and sneezed a few more times before she nasally said goodbye and got off on her floor. )

anne was a sweet lady, you wouldn’t deny it. but at this moment in time, you couldn’t help but curse her with all the malicious intent you could muster. you were tired. amelia was tired. and yet, nothing you were doing seemed to lull the girl into a state of slumber.

faintly, you could feel the guilt creeping up on you. the walls of your apartment complex were thin— you’d learned that the hard way. you were aware of how amelia’s cries were probably making their way into your neighbour’ houses and into the hallway, but quite frankly, you couldn’t even pretend to give a shit while you pulled amelia into your arms and took her on a little walk around your apartment. 

her loud cries slowly turned into sniffles and low whines as you rocked her around your house, showing her all the framed pictures hung around your house. one of her hands found its way to your hair, twirling some strands while the other stayed nestled between your bodies. your shirts had come off long ago— skin-to-skin was always a great comfort for amelia, and you could tell that the material of her sleeves and your t-shirt was overstimulating her greatly. 

even dressed in just a diaper, amelia’s arm, and subsequently, the rest of her body, was burning up from the fever she was running. you had a feeling that the medicine you had given her before her scheduled bedtime was wearing off, but amelia had refused to drink her milk and you were reluctant to give her another dose on an empty stomach. 

you hated to rouse her once she had finally quieted down but after being a mother for two years, you quickly learned that too much empathy could lead to your downfall. amelia needed to take her medicine now so that she wouldn’t have another meltdown in an hour’s time, and if that came at the expense of her crying just a bit more, it’d have to do.

you hesitantly pulled amelia away from your skin, hushing her lightly as she started to resist and whine. “i know, i know. i’m sorry, baby. i know it hurts.” 

you made your way to the kitchen. you talked amelia through every step, hoping to keep her distracted long enough to pull out an applesauce cup from the pantry. “we’re gonna eat some food and then give you your medicine so your body stops hurting. okay, baby?” 

amelia shivered lightly as your hand grazed over her stomach. she watched with wet eyes as you grabbed a spoon and attempted to open the cup— it was quite hard, doing everything with one hand.

“can mommy put you down?” you stopped and looked down at amelia, who frowned before slowly shaking her head and leaning into your chest again. “you wanna sit in my lap?” amelia nodded, a shuddered breath escaping her as she let herself calm down.

you worked quickly, sitting down with a tired baby in your lap and peeling open the cup. you fed amelia with slow bites, hoping she kept her food down this time. after she finished about half the cup, she started to fuss, pushing her face into your arm to avoid eating anymore. you were too tired to care about the fact that she had rubbed applesauce all over your bare arm. 

you decided against giving her the next dose of medicine until she stopped being fussy— if there was anything amelia had seemed to hate more than being sick, it was taking her medicine. the one she had been prescribed was grape flavoured, and it was by far the worst flavour of medicine you had the disgrace of stumbling across. you pitied your daughter. truly, you did, but you wanted her to get better, and if this grape-flavoured syrup was the only way to nurse her back to health, you’d do whatever it takes to get her to drink it. 

amelia was now sitting on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket as her clammy skin made her feel cold. she watched you with narrowed eyes as you manoeuvred around the kitchen to find her medicine and her sippy cup filled with water. although you had tried your hardest to hide the bottle from her, amelia recognized the purple bottle instantly, shaking her head furiously and whining out a no, mommy.

you sighed, not wanting to experience the third meltdown of the night. half heartedly, you wished for her to just stop crying and go to sleep, entirely too exhausted by caring for a sick child while running on a combined two hours of sleep. 

you couldn’t help but mentally scold yourself; god, you were such a bad mother. here your daughter was— sick and in need of your comfort— and instead of comforting her, you’re frustrated with her tears and couldn’t stand to hear another cry. you were just so tired. yet, you had no right to complain— you knew being a single mother would have been hard, but you still went through with it. 

you took a deep breath in, trying to stop yourself from spiralling. 

you carried amelia in your womb for nine months alone. you had gave birth alone. you had spent the last three years raising amelia on your own, and god damn it, a sickness would not make you question your worth as a mother. not over your dead body.

“alright, mimi.” you crouched in front of where amelia had been sitting, a weak smile on your face to try and coax her into drinking her medicine. “you’ve gotta drink your medicine if you want to feel better, okay?— no, don’t give me that look. mommy doesn’t want to give you this either, but you have to drink it or else you’ll continue hurting all night.”

the young girl sniffled, eyes already watering again. “but it’s yucky!”

you placed the sippy cup on the ground beside you, reaching up to caress her cheek lightly. “it is, but it helps you feel less icky and achy, okay?”

amelia stared at the bottle in your hand, a frown clear on her face. you wished she hadn’t taken up your stubbornness. 

“we can do this the easy way, or the hard way, amelia.” you gave her a slightly stern look.

amelia shook her head before pushing it back and into the cushion of the couch. 

hard way, it is.

you leave me no choice, amelia. you placed the plastic feeding syringe filled with 5 mL of the purple medicine, and reached out to hold onto amelia. you sat down in her spot, holding the girl down by her arms as she started to yell and flail her limbs. after she realized her arms were being held, she began to kick her feet, trying to roll out of your arms. 

your grip didn’t loosen, leaning forward to grab the syringe once again. you held the syringe near her mouth, and amelia immediately started to scream louder, yells turning into sobs. again, very faintly, you worried about the noise and your neighbours, but you pushed forward. 

you placed the syringe against the inside of her cheek, releasing some of the medicine. amelia stopped crying for a slight second to swallow before going back to her loud cries. the migraine from earlier returned as you repeated your actions twice more before tossing the empty syringe to the table and pulling the girl up in your lap.

amelia gagged loudly, and you couldn’t stop the loud no, no, no! no throwing up from escaping your lips. you grabbed her sippy cup before helping her wash down the medicine. god, children were so dramatic.

amelia, whose hands were now free, pushed the sippy cup away after a few sips. her lips were downturned into a big pout, and her eyes were glassy. her breath shuddered, still recovering from her outburst from seconds ago. you cooed gently, pushing her hair away from her forehead and eyes. 

“see, that wasn’t so bad now, was it?” you imagined that if she knew how, amelia would respond to you with a death glare. 

you pulled the girl closer to you, hand on her hair, smoothing it down as she placed her wet cheek against your sternum. you whispered quiet compliments to your baby as she started to calm down, hand coming back up to grab your hair and tangle her fingers into it.

it was quiet— no sounds aside from your whispers of i love you’s and amelia’s heavy breathing (her nose had stuffed up not too long ago). it had stayed quiet for maybe twenty seconds, until the silence was broken by a rather aggressive knock on your door.

amelia startled, and your heart dropped.  fuck.

mick wasn’t sure when he finally dozed off. the little girl from the other side of his wall had finally quieted down, and he could faintly hear another woman’s voice coaxing her to calm down. 

when he came to again, it had of course been due to another meltdown from the girl. he’d startled awake, pillow falling from his face and onto the floor beside him. his heart rate was erratic, and it took him a few seconds to get a bearing of his surroundings. when the next cry resonated through his room, he couldn’t help the loud groan from escaping past his lips.

mick sat up in his bed, suddenly feeling a strong wave of rage crash over him. it was late, and he was tired. it was past 3 am now, and mick schumacher had had enough.

the last few days had been stressful, to say the least. mick was going to be an official driver on the grid next season, for mercedes, and as excited as he was, he was also nervous— extremely nervous. yes, it was off season, but everyone knew that off season meant preparing for the next season. there really weren’t any “days off” in formula one, not really— if it wasn’t driving, it was sim work, and if it wasn’t the sim, it was working out to keep those muscles in shape.

frankly, mick had mentally exhausted himself by worrying for his next season in formula one, and with the lack of sleep, the man was nearing insanity.

he could feel the frustration, the exhaustion, and all his anxieties start to build up; start to consume him. he let them consume him. 

as if on autopilot, mick got out of his bed, walking out of his bedroom and directly towards his front door. another loud cry came from across the wall, this one louder from all the rest. 

if mick had been in his right mind, he wouldn’t have opened the door and rapped his knuckles against his neighbour’s door rather aggressively. but alas, mick had finally exploded, and who better to release his frustrations on than his next-door neighbours who couldn’t shut the fuck up at 3 am on a wednesday night. 

the second he registered his hand on the painted black door, he paled. fuck. mick felt like he was slapped in the face— what the fuck was he thinking? what the fuck could he possibly do? yell at whoever opened the door? tell them to shut their baby up? fuck. fuck.

mick held his breath, pulling his hand back. should i run for it? his eyes flitted from the door in front of him to his own. a beat passed, the door didn’t open, but he could still hear whining and muffled murmurs. it was louder now that he was out in the hallway— his walls had been thin, but perhaps the ones that lined the sides of the hallway were thinner. maybe they didn’t hear me.

before he could decide between standing his (now, remorseful) ground, or turn tail and hurry back home and sleep with his shitty “noise-cancelling” headphones on, the door opened. his head jerked up at the sound, eyes raking over your figure as he worked up the nerve to look you in the eyes.

you were a sight to behold, dressed in a plain black sports bra and loose, plaid pajama pants that coincidentally mirrored the colours of mercedes. the quick ponytail you had thrown your hair into some hours prior was now a ghost of what it should have been— most of your hair slipping out and splaying over your shoulders. the tangled ends could only have been caused by the young girl held in your arms. she was covered up more than you were, but from where the blanket fell off her shoulder and exposed her arm, mick could tell she was just as bare, if not more. (skin-to-skin, he’d realize some hours later as he laid on the couch and stared at the ceiling, this time wide awake on his own accord.)

your eyes, mick quickly learned, told stories clearer than even the most renowned storytellers. they were droopy and bloodshot with the lack of sleep. mick could read the exhaustion through them from miles away. aside from that, they were also bleary— as if you were seconds away from bursting into tears yourself. the girl in your arms sniffled, dragging his attention away once more as he scanned his eyes over her rosy red cheeks and irritated nose. oh.

a rogue wave of guilt crashed over mick, almost drowning him in the process. in his blind rage, mick hadn’t even considered what could have possibly led the girl in your arms to cry. it seems that the lack of sleep had killed his brain cells— rid him of all common sense and critical thinking. she was sick. 

the air was rather quiet around you three— aside from the little girl’s sniffling and heavy breaths, silence filled the air. mick mulled over what he should say. 

the girl in your arms shivered and you shifted her closer. another second of silence passed and you decided to take the reins of the conversation. “hi, are you here about the noise?”

mick could do nothing but nod, still feeling regretful for having knocked in the first place. his lips turned upwards into a sheepish smile, hand ruffling his already messy hair.

“listen, i’m really sorry. my daughter hasn’t been feeling the best for the past few nights, and i went around to let the rest of the hall know…” you trailed off, cocking your eyebrow as you asked him a question. “i don’t think i saw you around?”

mick stuttered. “uh, yup. yeah. sorry, i was out of town for the past few weeks and only just got back,” he gestured to the door to the right of your own. “ i live next door.”

you winced. “ah, that means you’re on the opposite side of my bedroom. i’m sorry, really. amelia rarely gets sick but when she does, she’s quite the force to be reckoned with…the noise should go down now, hopefully. her medicine wore off, and she’s just gotten a new dose. let’s both hope she sleeps like a baby, yeah?”

the light chuckle that escaped your lips made mick’s heart warm. the sheepish smile turned into a shy one. “yeah, of course. i’ll let you guys go to bed, then,” he gestured his head to amelia, who had somewhat fallen asleep against your shoulder, a line of drool dripping from her open mouth. “sorry for bothering you guys this late at night.”

you lightly shook your head. “i should be saying that to you. i’ll try my very hardest to make sure you’re able to catch up on sleep now!”

mick smiled and wished you a good night, turning back towards his door. you slowly let the door shut, the whirring and clicking noise signifying that it had automatically locked.

mick yawned as he reached his door. his hand fumbled to find the doorknob, eyes bleary with sleep. he pushed the doorknob down. it didn’t move. huh?

he tried again, and again, and one more time. each time the doorknob didn’t budge. mick became frantic, and for the second time in the past five minutes, he found himself thinking— fuck.

mick had boasted about the new upgrades for his apartment building for months to anyone who listened. how could he have possibly forgotten that his front door automatically locked? that he could only get in if he had his keys or if someone was inside? (“well, what if you get locked out? what then?” “don’t be stupid, gina. i’m not an idiot, i’d never do such a thing.”)

who’s the idiot now? mick groaned, hands pulling at his hair as he crouched down. he felt like crying. he was so fucking tired. now that it was finally quiet, now that amelia had finally stopped crying, mick was locked out of his house with no way back in. what a fucking night. 

mick stared at the tiled floor under him, gnawing on his lip as he thought of his options. it was 4 in the morning, not a single person would be awake and working at the front desk. he couldn’t call anybody— his phone was inside, plugged into the wall to charge after two days of use. even if he had it on him, the only people who had copies of the key were his mom, his sister, and hank, the man who worked the front desk— no one that would be awake, nor close enough to come up and unlock his door for him. 

his eyes flickered back to your front door, shaking his head before the thought could even fully form. he was not going to bother you again, especially not now. mick leaned his head back against his locked door, accepting his fate and slouching onto the tile. the metal of the door was cool against his bare skin causing a shiver to run down his spine. 

time was going by extremely slow, or at least it felt like it was for mick. his knees were now up to his chest, trying to find some reprieve from the cold air that breezed through the hallway’s air conditioning. he wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting like that, or when his eyes had finally shut until he was roused by the sound of your door opening. he raised his head, making eye contact with you for the second time that night. you looked mostly the same as before— tired eyes and unruly hair— the only difference now was that you had traded your sports bra in for a white shirt and a cardigan.

you cocked your head lightly. “oh? what are you doing out here?”

your voice was quiet, soft. mick felt his cheeks heat up, the embarrassment returning. 

his smile was sheepish. “i forgot my keys.”

your expression shifted, a round ‘oh’ shape forming on your lips as you nodded. before you could respond however,  your eyes widened and you immediately stepped back into your apartment, leaving mick all alone in the hallway. again. mick blinked, unable to comprehend what just happened.

you returned back outside with a soundtrack of quiet jingling. you brandished the keys in your hand to the boy sitting in front of his door. “almost just made the same mistake.”

mick nodded, an airy laugh escaping his lips. “i don’t suppose amelia knows how to open doors yet?”

you shook your head, “with those new child-safe knob covers? god, i hope not.”

the air became quiet, neither of you speaking many words. mick found himself wishing the silence would swallow him whole. he caved.

“so what—”

“would yo—”

mick flinched, instantly backtracking. “sorry, you go first.”

“no, no. it’s okay, you can go first.”

“no, really. it’s okay, it wasn’t very important, anyway.” mick pushed himself off of the ground, now coming up to stand against his door instead. “please, say whatever you wanted to.”

you pursed your lips, staring at his figure before sighing. “alright,” you nodded, “i was just going to offer if you’d like to crash on my sofa? it’s awfully cold out here, and you’re…”

mick glanced down at his bare chest at your gesture, cheeks flaming hot enough to drown out the cold breeze of the air conditioner. he crossed his arms, trying to cover up his chest, though you had already seen everything he had on show. 

he shook his head, adamant on not inconveniencing you further. “no, that’s alright. i’m here because of my forgetfulness, i can deal with it.”

you couldn’t help but copy his movement. “your forgetfulness came from the fact that amelia, and by extension, myself, kept you up most of the night because of how loud we were. if it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

mick went to argue but you cut him off. “really, it all comes back to me, so let me help you.”

the german boy was silent, mulling over his options in his head. 

“it’s a pull-out.” 

his eyes met yours again. “you’re sure?”

“yes, of course.” you nodded excessively. “i was just about to go down to the laundry room–” mick’s brows furrowed, and it was your turn to smile sheepishly now. “— i forgot to grab the last load of laundry earlier because of how cranky ‘melia was being. if you don’t mind waiting for another 5 minutes, i can quickly go grab the load and let you settle in for the night?”

mick nodded, hand coming up to scratch at the base of his neck. “no, of course. take your time. i’ll be here…s’not like i’d be able to go anywhere, anyway.”

you smiled at his words, eyes brighter than they had been the first time you two spoke. “great!”

you pulled the cardigan closer to your chest, walking down the hallway as fast as you could without bursting into a full sprint. had you really just done that? had you really just invited a stranger you had briefly acquainted with not mere minutes ago to spend the night in your apartment? yes. 

you pushed the down button on the elevator. and then again, willing it to get to your floor faster. fuck, your mind was going crazy with the what ifs. 

what if he was a creep? you haven’t seen him around since before tonight. ‘out of town’ he says. for what? what if he was a serial killer? that would make sense. he’d fled the town to not look suspicious, and now he’s back for his next victims. yes, that was it. (in the future, mick would listen to your retellings of this story with a look of disbelief. “you thought i was going to kill you!?” “of course, i did! i didn’t know you!” “you offered that i stay the night!” “well, i don’t always make good decisions now, do i?”)

the elevator ride was rather short, and uneventful— no anne from the fourth floor to pull you from your thoughts with a hacking cough. you chewed on your lips as you mulled over the man you had left upstairs. 

the laundry room was quiet and dark. of course, it was expected for four in the morning— not everyone was as disorganized as you were. you rushed your way around the familiar room, grabbing the basket you had left behind and unloading your dryer. you had to work quickly to get back before amelia realized the warmth next to her was simply your heated blanket and not you. you also had to get back to him.

by the final fitted sheet pulled from the dryer, you had made up your mind. there was just no way that your next-door neighbour. he seemed nice— too nice, a voice rang in your head. you shook your head, ridding yourself of the negative thoughts. everything will be just fine. 

he was right where you left him— albeit, now returned to his slumped over position against his door. your footsteps were quiet, yet still managed to rouse him back to reality. 

you sent him a sheepish smile. “i didn’t take too long, did i?”

“not at all.” he shook his head. “you’re fine.”

a hum escaped your mouth followed by the nod of your head. you reached into your cardigan’s pocket to pull out the keys, unlocking the door quietly and pushing it in with your hip. you held the door open and gestured for him to come in.

his hesitance was obvious and in your head, you cheered. definitely not a serial killer. 

“an open door usually means you can enter, you know?” you gave him a soft smile. he returned it, though it looked slightly more like a grimace.

“are…” he started, arms crossing over once again, feeling bare under your gaze. “are you sure? really, it’s no problem for me to stay the night out here. hank will probably be in the office in another hour or two. ‘s not a problem, i’ll just wait for him to get here and i’ll get into my apartment. plus, amelia’s only just fallen asleep, and i’d hate to m—”

“oh, will you just get in here already?” you couldn’t help but reach out, lightly grabbing his arm before tugging him in. you guided the door shut with your foot, making sure it wasn’t too loud before turning around to look at the man in front of you.

his eyes were wide, flickering from your face to your hand, which was still wrapped around his arm. you followed his gaze, your own eyes widening as you quickly dropped your hand. your hand felt like it was on fire— his arm was cold, icy from the air conditioning, and a stark contrast from your warm ones. it felt like you’d given yourself an ice burn.

you cleared your throat, yet stayed silent, not knowing what to say.

the man across from you was in a similar boat, cheeks dusting a light pink as he focused on the heat emanating from where your hand once was.

“i’ll show you to the couch, if you’d like?” your voice tilted up at the end of the sentence. “i have a feeling our layout is the same, so the bathroom should be in the same spot, if you need it.”

he followed behind you with a quiet murmur agreeing about how similar your floor plans were. 

your eyes widened as you entered the living room,.empty syringes and dirty tiny baby dishes were strewn across the coffee table. you placed your laundry basket to the side, hastily picking up your earlier mess with an apology.

the shake of your neighbour’s head went unnoticed by you as you rushed into the kitchen and back out. it wasn’t until you had presented him with the pull out that he spoke again.

“you know,” his voice was rather quiet, conscious of the baby sleeping just a little ways away. “you really should not let strangers into your home.”

for a second, you nearly felt your heart stop— this was it. he really is a serial killer— until you caught his expression, once again riddled with guilt as if he was overstepping. as if you hadn’t invited him in.

“you’re not really a stranger though, are you?” at the cock of his head, you continued. “you’re my neighbour who i’ve inconvenienced all night.”

“you don’t even know my name.”

you nodded. “alright, i’ll bite. you bring up a good point. so what is it then? your name?”

“...mick.” he had a slight smile playing on his lips.

“well, mick.” you gave him a small smile, initiating a handshake. “my name’s y/n. now, we’re neither strangers, nor neighbours with no names.”

mick couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over his lips, hand warm in your hold. “i suppose you’re right, then.”

you quickly left to grab the man— mick— a few pillows and a comforter from your closet. “i’m the door at the end of the hallway. if you need anything, you can knock on that door and let me know.”

mick nodded. “of course. thank you again, really.”

“not a problem.” you smiled, already making your way out of the living room.“i’ll see you in the morning, then.” 

as you walked out the room, you couldn’t help but turn once more, eyeing the blond-haired man who somehow didn't look so out of place as he messed with the teddy bear that you’d forgotten to pick up from the couch. you smiled.

“goodnight, mick.”

“sweet dreams, y/n.”

#mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher #mich schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fic #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher imagine #f1 driver x reader #f1 imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #ms47 x reader #ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ writes #fluff #formula 1 imagine #formula one #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #f1 fanfic #f1 one shot #f1 x you #formula one fic #formula one fluff #mick #schumacher #ms47 #1k

[ange1sang]

thinking about mickey who grew up in the horrors of the milkovich house looking at people who plant flowers in their gardens with disdain. they all live in the same shitty south side blocks, why plant flowers that will bloom for just a week or two and then go back to being sad-looking patches of dirt covered in withering, colourless petals? he thinks they're ridiculous for dedicating so much time to something so fleeting that could easily get pissed on by a neighbourhood dog or trampled by rowdy kids. he rolls his eyes at the makeshift gardens, convinced he'll never understand.

it's years later, and ian is struggling to get on his feet after a whirlwind moodswing. he's spent days and nights unmoving in bed, covers pulled tight around his freckled shoulders and green eyes dull no matter how the light hits them. mickey brings him coffee every morning even if the mug remains untouched, kisses ian's cheek and strokes a worried thumb against his temple each time he has to leave him. in the evenings he tells ian about his day, unsure if any of the information is even reaching ian at the bottom of the rut he's stuck in. as much as the whole process feels like pulling teeth, mickey persists, and folds himself around ian when he goes to sleep, nose nudging against the back of his neck as he prays tomorrow will be brighter.

eventually a brighter tomorrow does come. mickey comes home from a job and finds ian sitting on the couch, absently watching daytime television and holding the mug of coffee mickey brought him in the morning between his thighs. he looks up when he hears mickey walk into the living room - slowly, but he looks up all the same. the smile he gives mickey is small, tentative and apologetic. it's the best thing mickey has seen in weeks.

"hey mick," ian says, voice soft and croaky, and mickey can't help but grin.

"hey mister," he whispers, leaning down to kiss the top of ian's head and ruffle the red hair he's grown to love so much. "missed ya."

they spend the afternoon shoulder to shoulder on the couch, watching mindless television while mickey traces shapes against ian's thigh with his fingertips.

mickey realizes then that even if ian's smiles and joy were fleeting, even if their warmth only came around for a week once a year, he'd never stop putting in the effort to keep his boy afloat. ian's eyes, prettier and more vibrant than any flower petal mickey has ever seen, would be worth any blood, sweat or tears shed over them. no matter how long his next low spell lasted, mickey would take care of him and get him the help he needed, regardless of how difficult it might be.

he presses a kiss to a little constellation of freckles on ian's cheekbone and wraps an arm around his shoulders. after years of disdain, he thinks he understands the flower beds a little better now.

#shameless #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #gallavich fluff

[ultram0th]

Sometimes Mick felt a little bad about what he’d do. He would transform and mess with men every now and then, experimenting with a variety of victims. Guys who were jerks and needed to be taken down a peg, guys who were good Samaritans and deserved a reward, and some who were just minding their own business. It was the latter that was the most difficult to deal with. Still, whenever that urge to have fun rolled around, it was next to impossible to ignore it.

That just so happened to be the case as Mick relaxed in the sauna at the gym that he frequented. He had no idea who the two muscular men were who walked in after him, one in his mid-fifties while the other was in his early thirties. The way they chatted with one another made it sound like they were friends or at least work out buddies — the older one seemed to be more knowledgeable about workout plans and diets than the younger.

Mick smirked and stood up to leave the sauna, snapping his fingers as he exited the door.

— — —

Adam sat on the sauna bench, enjoying how the hot steam relaxed his tense muscles after his strenuous workout. “Damn,” he huffed, rolling his neck to the side to pop it, “that kicked the crap out of me.”

The older man, Vlad, smirked and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I told you I can whip you into shape,” he chuckled. “We’ll have you contest-ready in no time.”

Adam was interested in getting into natural bodybuilding, and after searching online, had managed to find Vlad who was a certified personal trainer. The older guy had years of experience when it came to helping others bulk up to incredible sizes, so Adam was eager to hire him. Lo and behold, it was only his first session with the guy, and he was already feeling as if his muscles were on fire.

The two men talked about workout plans, not really noticing when the other gym patron left the sauna, snapping his fingers behind him. There was an odd electric feel to the thick, steamy air that passed as soon as it had come.

Adam massaged his already sore pectoral, winded from the workout his trainer had put him through. Still, the results were promising and he found himself incredibly excited for tomorrow’s workout. He glanced over at the older man.

“So, like, what’s the workout plan for tomorrow, Daddy?” he asked in a voice that sounded like it’d shot up several octaves, sounding comical coming from his bulky body. He jerked back in confusion and cleared his throat a couple times, wondering if the steam was just messing with it and making it sound weird; but that didn’t explain the odd inflections or why he’d referred to the older man as ‘Daddy’.

Even Vlad scrunched up his face in confusion, eying the younger man up and down. “I’m gonna work those tight glutes of yours, Babe,” he grunted, his voice sounding deeper and rougher than it had earlier. The older man’s eyes widened in shock at what had left his mouth and he scratched at his chest in wonder, wincing when he felt much more hair on it than usual. 

Sure enough, when he looked down at himself, his chiseled chest was covered in dense salt-and-pepper colored hair. What shocked him the most was that his nipples had seemingly inflated, sticking out of the hairy forest by at least half and inch.

“Damn, Boy, Daddy’s nips have gotten so big for ya to suck on,” he heard himself playfully growl, blood draining from his face at his words.

Adam shot to his feet in a panic, his heart racing in his chest. “Daddy, like, what is even happening to us?” he twittered, waving his hands effeminately as he began to fret. He had no idea why he or Vlad were speaking so differently and he began to wonder if it was the steam that was affecting their brains. “Like, maybe this steam is fucking with our heads?”

The two men rushed out of the steam room and stood out in the vacant locker room, both of them panting from a mixture of the heat from the sauna and from the trepidation that filled their worried bodies.

It took them both a second to realize that in their hurry to get out of the sauna and catch their breath, they didn’t notice that they were standing uncomfortably close to one another: Vlad had his buff arm wrapped around Adam’s waist, the latter resting one of his hands on the the former’s hairier chest.

Both men took a quick step away from one another, blushing furiously. Neither of them wanted to admit that they wanted to step closer though, opting to look anywhere but at the other.

Adam took a nervous breath and readied himself to see if all the weirdness really was just due to the steam. “So, like, that was suuuuper weird,” he said, his heart falling at the words that left his mouth.

At the worried look that crossed over Adam’s features, Vlad felt an unknown protective surge inside of him, and he stepped forward and enveloped the smaller man in his arms. He was shocked by his actions, having never held another man so intimately before, but he couldn’t deny that he liked it. “Relax, Baby,” he said. “Let’s go home and figure this out.”

Adam was so focused on how much he loved to have his face shoved in the older man’s hairy chest that he didn’t register that, somehow, the two men knew that they lived together. He nodded and reluctantly pulled himself away from the older man. “Like, that sounds like a great idea, Daddy,” he muttered, pausing when he looked at the other man, staring straight ahead to only see Vlad’s clavicles. “Oh em gee! I, like, totally shrunk!”

When they’d started their workout this morning, Adam had actually been taller than Vlad by at least two inches, but now that he looked at the older man, he realized that he was now the shorter of the two. In his panic, he let his towel fall to the ground.

Vlad winced and fought the lust that ran throughout his hairy body as he stared at the naked man before him. He felt himself lick his lips hungrily as he looked at his younger companion’s bulging pecs and chiseled abs, running his gaze downward to the the two-inch nub that poked out above a set of balls that resembled cherry tomatoes.

“Oh shit,” he grunted. “Babe, please don’t panic, but I think I’m gonna have a lot more fun with your ass than your cock.”

“Like, what are you talking about?” Adam asked, cocking his eyebrow. He looked down at himself in confusion. When he saw his shrunken equipment, he let out a loud shriek of terror. “Like, what happened to my nub?!” He stomped his foot in frustration. “My nub! No, my nub! Fuck me! I don’t have a nub, I have a c-c- NUB!”

“Relax, Babe, you’re gettin’ all worked up,” Vlad said in a calm voice. “Daddy will take care of everything.”

“That’s, like, totally easy for you to say!” Adam spat, putting both of his hands on his hips as he talked. “I, like, get stuck with this puny nub, while you get a big, juicy cock!” He gestured forward at the older man.

Vlad glanced down and nearly fainted when he saw the large tent in his towel. He quickly tossed the cloth to the floor and stared wide-eyed at the foot long cock that was as large as a beer can and balls that were as big as oranges. It waved wildly in front of him and leaked precum the more he looked at the smaller (in both senses of the word) man.

“Daddy, like what happened to us?” Adam panicked, his pathetic nub throbbing with want the more he stared at the older man. “Like, why am I sooooo horny right now?”

Vlad wanted nothing more than to figure out what was wrong too so that they could fix it and return to their normal relationship as trainer and client. However, deep down, the new feelings inside of him made it so that a part of him really didn’t want to go back. “Daddy will take care of that for ya, Babe,” he cooed, walking forward and wrapping his arms around the younger stud affectionately. He bent down and began to kiss up the panicked man’s jawline.

Adam was overcome with such a surge of lust and love for the older man who he called ‘Daddy’, and before he could register what was happening, the two of them were making out in the locker room. The two men felt one another up and it wasn’t long before Vlad was on his back and Adam was bouncing on his cock, grasping both of the older man’s inflated nipples. The two of them heatedly made love in the locker room, being known as the gym’s cutest couple from then on.

#muscle #musclegrowth #bodybuilder #pecs #butt #butt growth #straight-to-gay #cockshrink #daddification #daddy tf #boi toy #himbo #himboification

[watchingblsnowandforever]

Hello!!!

Welcome back to my crack posts! =D

We Are ep 9 is as hilarious as it's frustrating, and I will continue to the whys below with a healthy dose of crack. <3

Warning: long post 😊😅

Ohoho, our little boy is jealous and... its not even 5 minutes in (2 minutes since the actual start). Is that a new record?

Kluen: can I just sleep beside you- 😊

Phum: No. 🙂

Poor Toey getting roped into this too 😭

(something something, Chain helping Toey get Q jealous while Phum uses Toey as a buffer for the cause of his jealousy)

Our favourite old married couple hehe (who aren't actually dating yet-)

My poor Phum 😭

Okay, as much as I don't like Kluen, I have to give it to him for being so straightforward, going as far as telling Phum that he likes Peem when he realizes that Phum might does like him too.

Also the t-shirt: We Are Volunteer.

Yes! Call him out!

We really need more call out-ers in BL.

I laughed so hard my cat looked at me weird 😭😂

Children really are the best eyy

Phum looks so betrayed oh gods 😭

The 'I know what you're doing but I'll still play along cause I like you too, ai'kwai' look. Ah, a classic from thai bl.

This reminds me of when Tinn says "How can I be your friend? I like you!" when Gun finds him after he ran away from the MV shoot.

(And Gun replies, "You think I can?")

On one hand we have Phum who bribes children with chocolates (that he just happens to have in his pocket) to lure away his crush from his rival.

On the other we have Q who simply up and runs away when his friend faux-swipes his crush's sweat simply to make him jealous.

*looks between them and shakes head* these boys are absolutely hopeless

Our favourite married couple part 2 (who are actually dating)

continued:

Pun and Mick just here playing around 😭👍🏼

Peem was right, if they were the only ones in charge of cooking, no one would get any food T~T

But... how exactly did "cut into round shapes" get converted to "cut into round glasses" to "rectangles"? 😶

Fang is so done with these idiots 😭👍🏼

In this moment, I kid you not, my brain played the "what did he sayyy" meme 😶

Phum: *bombastic side eye of death*

Yes, please. We've been waiting for this for 8 and a half episodes.

Yes, and you are the nosiest peep, now continue.

Ah, so Fang is actually the violent sibling, and him and Phum (and Tan, apparently) got into frequent fights, it seems like.

Got caught red handed 😭

Tan is so dead

Wait... so Tan and Fang had a beginning much like Phum and Peem? 👀

Rivals to lovers for both brothers it is, then.

And I feel so bad for Phum, poor guy has been a third wheel since his high school days 😭

...somehow, I think Chain and Pun will put even TanFang to shame when they actually start dating 😶

'Course you have. You just played with water with your besties the other day

And with friends like yours, Peem? It's unlikely you'll go one day without playing around with something or the other

Beer doing God's work here 😭🙏🏼

I love how Beer is both perceptive and observant of his friends, and knows just what to say to get them moving.

He wants the best for Phum and even tells him how he's happy that Peem came into his life, and Phum is a lot more lively these days. (MSP flashbacks again anyone? No? Just me?)

He might not be as playful or enthusiastic as Peem's friends, but he knows what his friends need and he'll try his hardest to make sure they have it. He's just such a good friend.

Phum telling him about the Deal™ also shows us just how much he trusts Beer.

Love him <3

Sweetie, I understand you need some space, but you don't talk to your future boyfriend possible crush like that 😭

Nothing to see here, just a goodnight kiss.

Jokes aside, I like that Peem tries to figure out what's wrong, but he doesn't push too hard. And even tries to provide some comfort to Phum.

And in these moments with just them, Phum has bursts of courage to show his affection, and show Peem how much he means to him, instead of just telling him.

I don't think this is him being emotionally constipated (he is, no doubt about it, but strangely not as much when it comes to Peem), but more of him being unsure of where he stands with Peem (as I mentioned in last week's post).

Are they just friends because their friend groups merged? Acquaintances forced to be close due to circumstances? Just creditor and debtor? Is the deal all that's holding them together?

Well, Phum needs to find the answers. (Preferably and possibly within the next episode)

*sigh* they're gonna kill me with fluff (and I'm gonna die happy)

This is my favourite scene of this ep. Just crushes cuddling each other with sleep, the rest of the evil world (Kluen) forgotten for the moment.

Ah. I love cuddles even more than kisses, not gonna lie

Also, ep 10 seems promising!

Anyways, that's all for now, see you next week! And if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading! 😊

Here, have a bubble tea and a cookie 🧋🍪

#we are the series #we are #we are series #watching bls: we are #let's talk bl #phumpeem #qtoey #tanfang #chainpun #thai bl

[disneyprincemuke]

leche flan invisible string mick my love NOWWWW 5k words minimum and ill get back to slaving st the drawing pad 😈

5k words minimum when the original fic literally took me 2 days and 6k words is craZYY SOAP

(read the original piece here)

"oh, your cat is adorable," you coo, dropping to your knees with a grin. you extend your hand to the grey cat, the cat sniffing you curiously as its slowly approaches you. "a boy?"

"girl," mick lets you know with a grin. "her name's cement." he pops his head out of the kitchen. "get it? cause she's grey?"

"that's so funny! like my cat!" you shriek, starting to pat the cat on its head. "actually... cement looks a lot like concrete." you lift your head. "doesn't she?"

mick hums, trying to pull up an image of your cat from the back of his mind. truthfully, he's only ever seen concrete twice during your time together.

the first was when he'd found her roaming around the day she slipped out of your apartment and then another time when he spent the night over at yours after you started dating.

"huh," he laughs, "i guess you're actually kind of right. even their fur colour's kind of similar."

"you know, when concrete was a kitten, she used to have this white patch of fur in the shape of a heart right above her tail. it barely resembles a heart now," you explain as you get to your feet. you saunter towards the kitchen where mick stands.

"a heart-shaped patch as kitten?" mick snorts with a laugh. "that's cute– oh my god! that's the cat my sister wanted to adopt but the lady said she'd given the cat to the wrong person!"

"oh, my god!" you laugh, throwing your head back with a laugh. "that was you? the guy who reserved the cat with the heart patch!"

"i can't believe i never noticed that!" mick laughs. "you got it from that one lady in the suburbs with the big house? mama cat was a friendly white cat?"

"exactly her," you grin. "wow, guess you're really like... meant to be my boyfriend or something."

"i guess you're stuck with me then," mick beams, leaning down with puckered lips. "because the universe said so."

"we have to get our cats in for a playdate soon." you glance over your shoulder at cement now padding towards the area her water bowl was placed. "they're siblings, how sweet."

gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @localwhoore @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @hrts4scarr

#mick schumacher x reader #disneyprincemuke asks #dpm x anon #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1 #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #dpm serves leche flan #dpm filipino dessert bar #dpm 4k celly

[obaex]

dying to tell you - jj maybank

summary: after a normal beach day takes an unexpected turn, jj has something he needs to say.

word count: 3.7k

tw: 🦈

a/n: inspired by real events that happened to professional surfer mick fanning in 2015 - it is wild to watch!! (see above trigger warning before taking a peek!)

It was the perfect beach day.

You pulled off your flipflops and the bottom of your feet and your toes were tickled by the warm sand. You could hear the woosh of the waves rushing to meet the shore and receding again, a familiar melody. It was early, so the beach was quiet but for the waves and the occasional call of the seagulls flying overhead as the breeze kicked strands of your hair up around your face and made the seagrass in the dunes shake. You smiled to yourself - home for you was this place and the person next to you. You snuck a glance at JJ only to find the same smile on his face, his surfboard tucked under his arm. The beach, and its overwhelming sense of calm, peace, rightness was a love you both share. Your friends were running up ahead of you, dragging coolers, chairs and more surfboards, but the two of you hung back, walking side by side, enjoying the moment. JJ reached out and tangled his fingers lazily in yours and you squeezed back.

A few other locals dotted the shore and several surfers bobbed in the sizable waves. This part of the beach was a revered locals spot, tucked far enough away from the hotels and tourists to remain untouched by their noise and disruptions.

You helped set everything up before unfurling your large blanket, pulling off your clothes and collapsing on top if it, ready to spend the entire day squeezing every bit of sunshine and vitamin D you could into your skin. You loved the hot weather, the way the sun's rays baked ten times hotter off the glinting ocean, the way your skin would feel salty and sticky by the end of the day. You would live here if you could.

The boys were eager to get in the water, haphazardly chucking their backpacks and tearing off their shirts, John B and Pope making a beeline for the water as Kie chased after them yelling something about sunscreen, a lost cause. JJ eyed the water eagerly but his eyes wandered back to you, outstretched in his favorite bikini, the shape accentuating every curve of your body and the color amplifying your tan skin and bright eyes. He wrestled with his choice for only a second before flopping onto the blanket beside you, eyes glimmering mischievously as he reached for you. He couldn't keep his hands off of you on any day, but you looked so tantalizing he couldn't help himself as he pulled you into him and you giggled. His lips found yours and you were immediately lost in each other, lost to the world. Sarah took one look at you both and rolled her eyes. "Every time" she muttered to herself as she walked away to give you some semblance of privacy, wanting to be salty but secretly so stinking happy that the two of you finally got over the stolen glances and dancing around each other to go from friends to more than friends.

He tasted like peppermint from his toothpaste, salt and sunscreen as pushed his tongue in your mouth and you ran your fingers through his tangled blonde hair, a small involuntary moan escaping you at the feeling of his body crushed against yours, his muscular arms around you. JJ responded immediately, and without missing a beat, he lifted you off the blanket, and began walking back towards the Twinkie, never breaking your kiss. "JJ!" you laughed in surprise.

"Can't make noises like that without me wanting to do something absolutely indecent to you, sweetheart. M'taking you back to the Twinkie to spare everyone on this beach the show of a lifetime."

"We just got here!" you said, swatting him playfully on the shoulder. "The boys are waiting for you, we can pick this up later, promise." You pressed your lips to his cheek, sealing the deal.

With a resigned sigh, he placed you back on your feet in the sand, a mischievous smirk resting on his lips as his eyes searched your face, the flirtatious energy lingering but something deeper now running under the surface of his expression. He cupped your face, running a thumb gently over your cheek and his lips parted like he was going to say something. You looked at him inquisitively, unused to him being so serious. As he met your gaze, he stopped himself and smiled warmly. You wanted to ask, wanted to know what he was going to say, but as his lips found yours again, your brain scrambled.

You had been together for a few months but neither of you had said those three little words. Big words, really. You had felt them for a long time, longer than you'd even been together, but you were still trying to navigate this whole thing. Your feelings were overwhelmingly strong but what you had with him felt so special you didn't want to disrupt the balance. The words were on the tip of your tongue, dangerously close to spilling over, like your body's involuntary reaction to his proximity; when you fell asleep in each other's arms, each time you hung up the phone and every time he kissed you and then gave you that look, that smoldering, soul-crushing, heart-squeezing smirk that he was giving you now. And then he was off, peeling off his shirt, grabbing his board and running towards the water, leaving you breathless.

Kie and Sarah made their way back to you as JJ crashed into the waves. They shared knowing glances at you and made sneaky comments. They loved to tease you even though they were your biggest supporters. The boys could surf for hours and that was fine for the three of you, it gave you much needed girl time to catch up and discuss all the things the boys would roll their eyes at. You were comfortably seated in your chairs, facing the water and passing around fruit and snacks chatting idly as you watched the boys surf. They were spread far enough apart in the water to give each other opportunities to catch the waves. It amazed you to watch them surf. You didn't know a lot about surfing, but you knew JJ was good, very good. You could see it in his practiced confidence on the board and the ease with which he navigated each wave. You loved to see him so happy and in his element.

You had turned your attention back to Sarah's story when you heard a loud splash. You had been coming to the beach your whole life, your mind and body in tune with every kind of noise and this one was not one you had heard before. It wasn't the splash of the waves, the splash of children playing, the splash of a surfer at the end of their run, this was loud, aggressive... foreboding. Your eyes scanned the water fast enough to see JJ seated and bobbing alone on his board, his back to you as he faced the oncoming waves before his head snapped back to look behind him as a large fin crested the water.

You were on your feet before you knew what was happening. It was probably only seconds but it felt like a lifetime, like one of those dreams you have when you're running but don't actually go anywhere, your feet pounding the sand, your lungs burning as you shouted for John B and Pope, JJ never leaving your sight. JJ's eyes found yours momentarily before the large fin resurfaced and he got knocked off of his board and you couldn't see him anymore.

JJ didn’t think he could ask for a more perfect day as he bobbed in the waves, feet dangling in the cool water beneath his board. In fact, ever since he had gotten the courage to tell you how he really felt, heavily aided by beer, his friends, and an unrelenting pounding in his chest every time you were close to him, it was like his life had gotten exponentially better.

He stared into middle space as he ran his thumb over his lips, deep in thought at the feeling of yours pressed against them, and reveled in the fact that he could still taste you. He didn’t know how he went without you for so long, now he couldn’t get enough. He loved you. He knew he did, and he’d almost said it to you. Today, and about a hundred times now, including the night he first confessed his feelings. He knew it then. He’d known it for awhile. In truth, he was dying to tell you, dying to get it off his chest. He almost word-vomited it on a daily basis, when you curled into his chest as you fell asleep, every time you scrunched your nose and bit your lip when you were focusing, the way you looked at him when he kissed you, eyes glazed with desire for him. Goddddd, he thought. But a part of him was still insecure. What did he ever do to deserve you? In what realm of possibility could you love him back? He was deep in thought when heard a loud splash behind him that snapped him back to reality as chills ran down his spine.

He knew before he saw the fin. He had been in the water when other surfers spotted sharks, and he John B and Pope did occasionally get that unexplainable sense of foreboding that pulled them out of the water, the intangible surfer’s sense that something simply wasn’t right and the risk wasn’t worth it. That feeling washed so quickly over him now that it felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. He turned to see a large fin breaking the water behind his board as a dark shape moved beneath him, and that’s when he heard you. He turned to see you running towards the water and met your eyes just as the dark shape crested the waves and he was knocked off his board, into darkness.

John B saw you running towards the water and his first instinct was to laugh. You weren't unathletic but he'd never seen you move that fast before. He'd wanted to laugh until he heard the tone of your voice as you called his name. It wasn't joking, it wasn't fun, it was pure terror and his brain began piecing the puzzle together as he saw Sarah and Kie running towards other people on the beach, calling them out of the water and as you pointed desperately at JJ. John B turned his head quickly enough to see his best friend, the one person that had been there through every high and every low alongside him get knocked off his board by a tailfin as a large shape loomed in the water and he crashed into the sea.

He could hear Pope shouting at him but his heart was pounding and the blood rushing in his head made everything sound like he was underwater. Pope was paddling towards the shore.

"We have to help him!" John B cried, his voice high-pitched with emotion, knowing already that their efforts would be fruitless. What were they supposed to do? As far away as he was, he was already shaking as he tucked his own limbs onto his board, like this thin piece of fiberglass would do anything to protect him. He had seen the size of that shark, they were fucked.

JJ swam quickly to the surface, his body pulsing with fear, trying to get a sense of his surroundings, wanting to know what was around him but terrified to find out at the same time. He crested the surface, searching for his board, for any lifeline before deciding it didn't matter and he needed to get the fuck out of there. He began swimming strongly towards the shore, but panicked at the idea of the shark attacking him from behind so he stopped and turned around, frantically searching the water around him, kicking his legs and trying to swim backwards. He couldn't see a thing. He was hyperventilating and as he tried to suck in deep breaths water filled his mouth, causing him to cough. He continued to swim backwards, his eyes never leaving the dark water.

You had never felt as helpless in your entire life as you did standing on that beach, screaming, screaming for JJ, for John B, for Pope, for God, for anyone to intervene as your eyes searched the water for him, stomach roiling and mind churning with the worst possible outcomes. When you saw his head emerge from the waves, you began to run into the water.

"What are you doing?!" Kie shouted, exasperated as she threw her arms around you to pull you back.

"I have to go! I have to get to him!" you shouted back, trying to wrench yourself from her grip as you gestured to the waves. Wasn't if obvious? JJ needed you. Your whole heart was out there alone, bobbing in the water alongside an eight-foot shark. You wrestled in her arms, eyes never leaving the water as you watched him swim, heart catching each time a wave crested and you momentarily lost sight of him. He looked okay? Could that be possible? Was the universe that good? That he could look death in the face and still come back to you? Suddenly he stopped swimming for the shore and turned around, looking back in the murky depths, trying to backpedal, to backstroke. Did he see something? Was it coming back?

John B and Pope caught up to you both and Sarah put her arms tightly around John B as you watched. The group was stone silent.

Finally, it was too much for you, you shoved Kie off of you and sprinted into the water despite her shouts and the gasps of the crowd that had gathered. You were about waist-deep in the rough current, getting rocked by each wave when JJ finally turned to see you standing there, wading towards him.

"N-NO!" he shouted, motioning you back, moving as quickly as he could to force you back into shallower water, but his limbs were sluggish and tired and the current tugged him deeper. "GET OUT OF THE WATER!" He shouted, surprised at the anger and fear in his voice. You jumped slightly at that, never having been the object of JJ's anger before, but you didn't listen, you didn't care. You needed to know he was okay more than you needed to be okay yourself. You met him in chest-high water, your body crashing into his. He held you tightly, he wanted to enjoy this moment, but his brain and his body were still tightly wound in survival mode as he tugged you forward with him, needing to get you to safety, needing to know you were okay more than he needed to be okay. He wouldn't feel good about that until you were both firmly on dry land. When you were in ankle deep water, your friends converged on you, pulling you both into a hug as the small crowd that had gathered clapped and cheered, murmuring with disbelief at what had just occurred.

Everything thereafter was a blur. The beach day was over, no one wanting to spend any more time here after what had happened. Your friends buzzed around you, packing up the coolers and chairs and walking back to the Twinkie. You didn't leave JJ's side, didn't bother getting dressed or picking up your blanket, you stayed tucked into him, with his arms wrapped around you and he couldn't have been more grateful for the feeling of your body pressed to his, grounding him, a constant reminder that he was safe. The car ride home was mostly silent, the radio scratching in the background as JJ sat hunched over, his head in his hands, your head on his shoulder. You caught John B's eyes in the rearview mirror from his spot in the front seat, where he shared a brief, knowing smile with you. He's here, he's with us, it said. It's going to be okay, and I'm glad he has you.

By the time you got back to the chateau the mood was shifting slightly. There was still a heaviness in the air, thick with all that could have been, but the fog was parting and JJ couldn't stand the tension anymore. "I'm sensing a real heavy vibe right now" he said jokingly. "I don't know about y'all but I could use a fucking drink" and with that everyone cheered and his face lit up in a smile.

The night passed in typical pogue fashion with beers around the bonfire. Everyone was eager to shed the events of the day and relax, yourself included. You joined in on the fun but kept one eye trained on JJ, tracing his every move with your gaze. You told yourself it was to make sure he was okay, but a part of you couldn't stop staring, afraid that if you looked away for too long he would disappear again under a dark wave. He hadn't left your side, a hand resting on your thigh, an arm around your shoulders or tugging you to sit on his lap. He was always handsy with you, but this felt different, like you were a lifeline, a buoy he didn't want to let go of. You were in his lap, your head resting against his with his arms around you, his fingers tracing patters on your leg when he nuzzled into your ear, pressing a kiss along your jaw. "Hammock?" he whispered and you nodded, smiling as you hopped off his lap and the two of you made your way to the secluded spot amidst catcalls and whistles from your friends.

He settled into the swinging fabric first, holding it steady for you to crawl in to lay beside him. Your bodies fit perfectly together as the hammock swung gently back and forth, your head tucked into his neck, your arm around his chest. You felt him breath a deep sigh as his arms tugged you impossibly closer to him and he planted a kiss on your head. You turned to look at him and met his eyes, midnight blue in the starlight as he looked down at you.

"Are you okay?" you whispered. A simple question that had ten other questions behind it.

He nodded sincerely but didn't say anything. You had been hoping for more. Hoping to talk to him about this. If he wasn't going to say anything, you were going to have to break the silence.

"Jayj, I-I was really scared" you said, your voice quivering a little as you spoke. "I'm so glad you're okay. All I could think as I watched you out there was what I was going to do if something happened to you, I was out of my mind."

"I gathered that when you were sprinting into shark infested water while everyone was running out of it" he said, smirking as he pinched your arm playfully. You could tell he was trying to lighten the mood and that maybe he didn't want to talk about this, but you didn't want to talk about it with anyone else, you didn't think they'd understand.

"I'm serious, JJ. I guess I don't know how to explain it, I don't have the words for it. It was more than just the idea of not being able to reach you, of losing you, it was the idea of all the things we wouldn't get to do together. Like never having another bonfire night or taking a ride on your bike, or w-waking up in your arms or g-getting to k-kiss you or --" you could have kept going but your tears bubbled over and JJ's heart broke at the sight of you unravelling in his arms. He was holding himself together as best he could and he knew you were too.

"C'mere pretty girl, it's okay, I'm okay" he said as he wrapped you deeper in his arms and your tears left wet marks on his shirt.

"I'm sorry Jayj" you said, trying to collect yourself. "I know I'm probably blowing this out of proportion--" and hearing you apologize was the last straw.

"-- You're not" he said softly. "I felt the exact same way." He sighed. He didn't want to relive it, like maybe if you didn't talk about it, you could pretend it never happened.

"Really?" you asked.

"100%" he replied. "When I turned and saw you before I got knocked off my board all I could think is how far away you were and what I would have to do to get back to you. I was going to wrestle that thing if I needed to." You both laughed at that. "But for real, I know what you mean, I had the same thoughts. Even though I was absolutely shitting myself, it was like flashes in my head of you and all the things I still wanted to do and experience together... all the things I should have said..." he paused and fidgeted a little.

"Hey, look at me" he said finally, putting a finger gently under your chin and tilting it towards him. He smiled and met your eyes, wiping a tear off your cheek. "If I was shark bait today, my biggest regret would have been not telling you how I felt, how I feel. I-I love you. A lot. A whole hell of a lot. I have since before we were together. You're the first thing I think about in the morning and my last thought before bed. You're the girl of my damn dreams Y/N and I never want to do life without you. You're it for me, gorgeous. Full stop. No one else." He said it with more confidence than he felt as it came pouring out of him, relieved to finally have it off of his chest.

Now he was desperately trying to read your response. She's smiling, that's a good thing, right?

Yes, you were smiling. Grinning from ear to ear as you listened to the boy of your dreams absolutely gushing over you. You were speechless for a moment, grasping at the words to say, words you'd wanted to say for so long.

"I love you too" you said finally, "So much, JJ" you were able to eke out before he crushed his lips to yours.

ps: sharks are friends and are so important to our ecosystem and our lil' planet! you are more likely to get bit by another human than you a shark (fact), more likely to die from ants, elephants, hotdogs and texting than a shark attack (also fact), and they only bite because they are curious, they do not want to eat you (also fact). so, be kind, be respectful, support sharks. #endrant

taglist: @ietss, @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @sweetestdesire, @softcoremaybank, @m-indkiller, @maybankslover, @sickyrat

#jj maybank #jj maybank fanfiction #obx jj #obx jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx fic #jj obx imagine #jj obx #jj maybank angst #obx #jj outer banks #outerbanks jj #jj x reader #obx jj x reader #obx fic #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #outer banks

[russellsppttemplates]

Mick and angie sitting by mama while she feeds the baby

Tw: postpartum, breastfeeding

So far, being a family of four was going okay. Aurora was as understanding as a three year old could be about baby Sebastian's needs and since she enjoyed going to pre-school, it wasn't complicated to get her out of the house in the morning while you and her baby brother stayed back, "have a good day, mama!", she kissed your cheek before she kissed her brother's hand, "and you behave well for mama and papa, okay?", she smiled at him, grabbing her backpack as Mick grabbed his keys, "I'll be back shortly, call me if you need anything, okay?", he winked at you, waving as he closed the door behind him.

By the time he was back, he found you in the sofa, pregnancy pillow forming a U shape around your front on the midsection as you fed Sebastian, Angie by your feet to keep you company, "That's it, clever boy, very good", you brushed the light blonde hairs on his head. The feeding journey this time around had been full of ups and downs, but you had finally figured out how and when your son liked to be fed, and once you found that routine, you tried your best to stick to it.

"He's doing okay?", Mick asked as he walked inside, sitting next to you after petting Angie's head, "yes, he's getting his belly full, aren't you?", you cooed, rubbing his cheek with your pointer finger, "was Rora fine?", you asked, turning your attention to your husband.

"Yes, she saw her friends and she just ran in", Mick offered, "do you need me to do anything around here? I've already done the laundry last night, I just need to take the clothes upstairs to the rooms, although one of Rora's dresses has a stain that I can't get out, so maybe I'll need your help for that", your husband admitted, his arm going around your shoulder as he looked at his son, "mama's boobs are pretty good, aren't they? They're my favourite, too", he smirked, earning a flick on his ear, " just telling the truth!", he defended himself as Angie got up, "what?! Angie, don't tell me you don't agree with me?", he asked the Australian Shepherd who just turned her head to the side slightly, "well, at least me and Seb agree, don't we buddy?", he grabbed his small hand.

(Thank you for submitting an ask 🤍)

#mick schumacher blurb #inês writes blurbs #f1 blurb #f1 x reader

[certaincollectionlandblog]

Mick Schumacher with a Southern girlfriend - Wedding Edition

*Disclaimer: I use Y/N and reader, but when I write this in my mind I see her as a tall plus size gal (mainly because that's my personal body type), but also because I really see Mick doing amazing with a woman like that. If there is anything I write that doesn't apply to you feel free to leave it out and like always feedback is always appreciated and loved!

Photos from Pinterest

~ Mick knew for a while that he wanted to marry you. There was no doubt about it in his mind. You were the woman for him. You gave him such a sense of comfort and home that no other woman ever gave him before.

~ He grew up watching his parents have one of the most beautiful love stories ever written and he saw that for him with you. It was like God knew what he needed in someone and put in all in a you shaped package.

~ Mick's family had a ranch in Texas and while you loved going to Texas and spending time on their ranch he knew that he couldn't propose to you there. Your family had land in another state (I'm getting a Virginia/Tennessee/North Carolina vibe here) and he knew how special that space was to you.

~ Gina and his mom were the first to know of his plans to propose. He knew this wasn't an over the phone conversation so he sat them both down. His mom cried happy tears and gave him such a bear hug. Her little boy was growing up and she was so happy to see him experience such a wonderful love.

~ In fact Mick went as far as to visit your parents while you were busy out of town at college wrapping up finals to ask their blessing. He knew he didn't need it, but you both were huge family people who were raised that family was pretty much the back bone of life.

~ He even asked your parents for their okay to use y'alls land to propose out of respect for it being their home.

~ Your mom, Gina, and his mom all helped him pick out the perfect ring. Your dad has the mission of being the one to go help you move out after finals saying your mom couldn't get off work when in reality they were ring shopping with Mick.

~ He ended up picking a ring similar to your grandmother's knowing how special she was to you and your mom almost cried.

~ Mick recruited the aid of your siblings in keeping up with the weather reports knowing how much loved snow and helping Mick put up lights.

~ A Christmas proposal that could only be rivaled by Hallmark was under way.

~ Mick knew you were so smart and would be sure to be suspicious if he was in town when you got back from college for Christmas break right away. However, your parents had the perfect plan to help him out. Your parents told you that for Christmas they had invited Mick and his family out to spend Christmas with you guys knowing how much it mean to you to spend the holidays together.

~ As soon as they got to the house your mom pointed out how nice the weather was and asked if you wanted to take Mick up to watch the stars like you two loved to do. Mick had greeted you with flowers at the airport when you picked them up, but that was nothing new. He loved to spoil you with flowers. As soon as you got to the top of the land you saw the lights all laid out and when you turned around for Mick he had already dropped to take a knee.

~ Something about the snow really made the blue of Mick's eyes pop and you knew your eyes weren't leaving his anytime soon. You were speechless and he knew that didn't happen often so he grabbed charge of the silence.

~ "Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N I've fallen in love with you. Growing up we're read fairytales, but told they don't exist when we reach adulthood. You see life through a childlike joy with a compassion and love for life like I've never seen before. You make me feel at home every time I'm with you, regardless of where we are. I love you and I look forward to every second I spend with you. Thank you for making me believe in fairytales again. So what do you say, will you marry me?"

~ You couldn't say anything other than nod your head yes and pull Mick up to hug him tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

~ You didn't miss the cheers of both yours and Mick's family which had hiked up behind y'all all recording and taking photos. You were so enthralled with Mick and the proposal you didn't even notice them there.

~ You and Mick decided it would be best for you guys to wait until after your college graduation to get married knowing how stressful college was Mick didn't want to overwhelm you planning a wedding during that to.

~ You guys ended up getting married on his family's ranch in Texas three weeks after your college graduation in late May. It really was a full circle moment.

~ Mick is a shy guy, but you both knowing how important family is to y'all ended up having a huge wedding. The guests were mainly family and then some close family friends.

~ You don't know how you got so lucky, but you know that having a love so strong with Mick and your family by your side that you two could get through anything.

~Instagram~

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liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, yourmom, and 528 others

yourinstagram Best Christmas gift ever!!

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Roughly six months later

yourinstagram

liked by yourmom, yourbestfriend, f1wags, and 473 others

yourinstagram Did something pretty fun yesterday. Would recommend marriage 10/10

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f1wags MOTHER HAS BLESSED US ONCE MORE

yourbestfriend I feel like I should have consented before seeing that second photos brb grabbing some holy water

yourinstagram You took the photo?! 🙄

#f1 #f1 blurb #f1 drabble #f1 smut #f1 x reader #mick schumacher #mick schumacher smut #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher fanfiction #mick schumacher fluff #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher blurb #mick schumacher fic

[reallifetangent]

Realization 1.0 (Cat King x Edwin)

I really tried writing something, this is one of the two attempts. English is not my main language, and I also have to translate Ir(me) → Spanish → English → Making Sense in English. I didn't actually finish this one, so, have this draft. Sorry if it disappoints.

---------

Based on the idea of How did Cat King react when he got back the bracelet. Technically is a One Sided Catwin, happens in the events of the series.

---------

"Hm?" A surprise sound between a purr and a question got stuck in his lips, seeing how in his characteristical flames, a cat shaped bracelet appeared in front of his bed. Just waking from the heartbreak of the last night, tired after scan the forest and each tree, Cat King (or Thomas for friends or Fandom) looked at the metallic enchanted piece. Didn't have to get closer, but yet he did. He could recognized that ghostly faded smell, and he was shocked and out of his mind when finally picked it up. Tried to think it was just an illusion, a bad taste joke about it.

"How did he do that?" He was both amazed and hurt. How come a ghost, a simple yet fascinating ghost boy hexed his handcuff, his attachment to this town, to his kingdom. Maybe he counted all the cats. "No. The spell only works if I undo it. That's the charm of this charm." Edwin was resourceful, but he couldn't find anything at Tragic Mick's. His cats around town and his own knowledge knew that no trinket from that haunted store could help them. Otherwise, Edwin, his aggressive pal and that psychic girl would've left the country as soon as they got out of his Majesty's Deck.

His small game of cat and mouse was gone, and he didn't even say goodbye. That was hurting. A well mannered gentleman like Edwin could never leave without a word, even if they didn't like it, his manners and old fashioned ways were stronger than his pride sometimes. That was attractive. He liked that correct and straight up part of him (not the straight part. Edwin has none.) The way Edwin fancily rejected and asked to take it off the first time, the panics and educated rejects at his touch. Maybe last night he was a bit rough telling him that they were only there because of that bracelet, nothing else. But Gods from heaven and hell, that was so ho-

"Heaven and hell." His sliced eyes opened wider, seeing every little part of the handcuff, the hits and tries of forcing the lock. The faded particles of a burnt wall. Thomas knew he was powerful, but not above any of the Primordial Gods, The Endless, Lilith. Even with his 9 lives, he wasn't above Death. And thought that those Dead Boy Detectives couldn't get struggling with her. Sneaky, one step ahead, 30 years running from her. Thomas liked that. Defying. But back to his thoughts, he finally felt that sting.

Edwin Payne had been claimed back to hell. Some cats told there was a creepy woman looking for them, about to "Get them back where they belong". Edwin's cleverness wasn't enough to escape her? Well, now was late to help him.

"Sir, we are... Troubled to inform you-" a grey old cat approached their king.

"I know, I know. That little dead boy has been departed to another jurisdiction. I... Got the message." He sighed, spinning in his fingers the metal piece.

"Worse, my Lord. The crazy nurse woman was there, yes. But something worse." Even the cat got goosebumps, their back hairs bristly. "She wasn't even aware. A demonic... thing... took him and dragged him to hell."

#cat king #dbd cat king #dbd edwin #dbd headcanons #cat king x edwin #catwin #thomas the cat king #edwin payne #dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives cat king #dead boy detectives fanfic #fanfic #one shot #dbdetectives one shot #what if #reallifetangent writes #reallifetangent #rlt

[ants-personal]

also i know it was probably a budget thing but i wish the batten between crystal and esther was just a bit bigger (got hella long so im putting it under here)

She hyped up on ghost energy it could have cut from cat king telling her story to her shaping the town in her image while crystal and niko also interrupt

She ends with her house changing it into a somewhat castle charles chained in a somewhat cell monty with a new perched by her throne and edwin with attached to the back of it theough twisted iron and the machine having to dig further into his form to dig out the misery as he screams when its one and left gasping and whimpering behind esther as she laughs

then niko and crystal have to survive getting through town mick helping them through cat king saying hes staying out of it and some other ghost alos helping since esther is now going after them and also the boys and them have helped them

and then later you have esther fighting crystal both oushing eachother to the edge esther using up edwin faster than she planned while niko tries to help him

Monty flies off but really hes going to help charles break out by bringing the keys letting him know his friends are here

esther sees niko trying to free edwin and sends her flying mentioning shell feed her to the snake as well but as she lands charles is there to pick her up monty landing near them as crystal and esther fight charles and niko run back to edwin charles trying to comfort him let him know hes there but over his own agony its hard to know if edwin can even tell

Charles sees esther getting the upper hand so he tells niko to keep helping edwin hes going to help crystal as they are fighting and start losing monty flies off and starts attacking with his talons giving crystal enough time to get charles his bag and tell him to find the snake and kill it he hesitate but she assure him and he runs off

As shes fighting off monty right as she about to kill him a cat ends up landing on her shoulder slashing her face before getting thrown off dodging attacks tikl cat king ends up human next to niko who has been trying to break the iron with anything and now with cat king he can actually help slowing bending the bars in a way they can pull edwin off

and then most things play out the same charles beats the snake and crystal outsmarts esther. Niko "dies" as cat king and her are trying to drag edwin broken self away from the fight cause she rushed to protect crystal from a shot and as esther looses her powers the town begins to turn back to normal till they are left in esther house watching her get draged off by Lilith and the must leave before death comes.

#but UH idk if thats too marvely but im going for more like goosebump halloween town type finale mixed with some more stakes and gore for edw #the dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #niko #esther #ant posts stuff

[boy-in-the-stars]

My Theory as to who the woman who grants the boys freedom at the end of DBD is

Spoilers for Dead Boy Detectives, obviously

So.

I think she’s Niko. NOW HEAR ME OUT

This may have been said before, but when she grants the boys freedom, she says “You never know when the good you do will come back around,” which is EXACTLY what tragic mick said to HER before she “died” by esther’s hand. Not only that, but when Charles says “who are you?”, her face somewhat drops and she responds with “Ah,” as if she expected them to recognize her. This could mean that she thinks they know her. Also, this woman is immortal, or inhuman, and Niko supposedly is as well, as she is the same size as the sprites, who are also immortal beings and very small.

Niko is inhuman now, and so is this woman. NOT TO MENTION THEY HAVE THE SAME FACE SHAPE AND SIMILAR PHYSIQUES.

THEY ARE THE SAME

#thanks for coming to my ted talk #dead boy detectives #dbd #dbd theories #dbd theory #dead boy detective theory #niko sasaki #niko dbd #niko dead boy detectives #tv show theories #dbd spoilers #dead boy detectives spoilers

[callivich]

A little birthday morning ficlet for Ian’s birthday! 🎉🎂🎁

——

“Hey.” Kiss. “Happy.” Kiss. “Birthday.” Kiss.

Ian is gently roused from his sleep by his husband hovering over him, pressing soft kisses to his face. He smiles, eyes still closed, and enjoys the warmth of his bed and the comforting weight of Mickey half on top of him.

“I know you’re awake, asshole.” Kiss. “Open your eyes.”

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to call me an asshole on my birthday.”

“Hmm, ok. Open your eyes, Gallagher.”

“Oh, last name? Too formal. Nope.”

“Fuckin’…..Ian, husband, open your eyes.”

That does it and he’s greeted with the sight of a smiling Mickey wearing a shiny party hat. “Oh. Love the hat.”

“Mmm. Knew you’d like it. This is a one day only thing and I’m not letting anyone else see me wear it.”

Ian adjusts it and strokes his hands down Mickey’s face. “You look very cute, Mr. Gallagher.”

“Thought last names were too formal. And I’m not fuckin’ cute.”

“You are. And it’s my birthday so I can say and do whatever I want.”

“I’m beginning to regret promising you that.”

“Too late. C’mere.” He drags Mickey closer for a kiss, letting his hands wander down his husband’s body.

“What do you want first - your birthday breakfast or your birthday breakfast?” A wink and the subtle grind of his hips let Ian know that the second phrase is not food related.

Ian grins and is about to choose the second when his stomach rumbles. He laughs and Mickey jumps off him. “Guess that settles it. Wait here, birthday boy.”

Shuffling up so he can rest his back against the headboard, he can’t stop smiling. He hears his phone pinging with messages that are probably all from his family but those can wait. Birthday mornings are always a husband-only event. They’ll be plenty of time for family at the dinner tonight.

Mickey returns with a tray - one that Ian has never seen before and it warms his heart that Mickey has either bought or stolen it especially for him. He places the tray on Ian’s lap and settles on the bed next to him.

Ian knows he’s being stupid but he begins to tear up a little bit at what’s on the tray. Coffee steaming hot with a splash of milk, just how he likes it, in the ‘world’s best husband’ mug, his medication for the morning, and a plate of donuts resting on top of colourful paper napkins covered in ‘happy birthday’.

“Chocolate creams. Got ‘em from that fancy place that just opened up.”

They look so good - round and fluffy, decorated with glossy chocolate and in red icing a tomato shape and the word ‘Ian ❤️’.

“The icing is strawberry and the chocolate is apparently some special stuff. Organic or whatever. If you don’t like them, I can run out to Sweet Susan’s-”

“Mick. I love them.”

“No crying.”

“I’m not. I’m just happy.”

“Ok. I’ll allow it.” He swipes a thumb under each of Ian’s eyes. “Now try one before I eat them all.”

Ian moans in delight as he takes the first bite, they’re still slightly warm which means Mickey got up early to run out and pick them up. (He tries to stop himself from tearing up again.) The donut is better than any he’s had before - the dough is light and airy, the filling creamy and rich, and the topping is just the perfect amount of sweet. He eats two and contemplates a third one but decides to save it for later.

Mickey goes and gets his own cup of coffee and comes back to nestle into Ian’s side. They talk about the family dinner later that night and what Ian wants to do for the rest of the day. After presents, of course. Mickey downplays them but Ian can tell he’s put a lot of thought into them.

“You want them now or-”

“Maybe after the rest of my birthday breakfast?”

“Oh.” Mickey grins, taking the tray and placing it on the floor. “Yeah, the donuts were just the uh…appetiser.”

“Uh-huh.” Ian’s wriggling out of his boxers. Mickey’s doing the same but then he reaches for the hat. “No. The hat stays on.”

“Why?”

“Want you to ride me wearing the party hat.”

“Of course you do.” He laughs and climbs into Ian’s lap, naked apart from the hat. “Happy Birthday lover.”

“Thank you, lover.”

#gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #ian x mickey #ficlet #ficlets

[skiesofrosie]

joe toye gets a pleasant surprise

pairing: joe toye x ofc (alice blythe)

genre: fluff, lots of easy shenanigans just 'cause

a/n: this is a little fun anecdote between joe and his love, alice blythe. same universe as all is fair, but matters of the heart. slowly, but surely, working on that joe toye piece. <3

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Her letters usually come in at noon on Tuesday.

She always starts with a “to my heart” and signs it off with "I'm awaiting for your return into my arms, this little corner of Pennsylvania feels most empty without you.” The in-between is her usually spilling her thoughts onto the page about a new book she’s read, telling him how his ma’s faring, and that her lips are chapped because she’s in drought of his kisses.

But it’s Thursday, and she hasn’t responded to his letter from this week, or the week before.

This weekend marks a rare occasion: none of the men’s passes were actually revoked. Joe wonders if god decided to send a bullet up Sobel’s ass, keep his bullshit to himself for once and let the boys rest. Of course, when he sent the letter to Alice, saying he had some time off, along with enough money for the train fare (saved from all the weekends where his passes were indeed, revoked), he wasn’t betting on any mercy. But it didn’t matter if he had to get stabbed through barbed wire, for a chance to see her.

He sought the map of the stars that were in her eyes, and without Alice, he felt sorely misguided.

“I’m gonna take all you shits down at craps,” Malarkey states, stretching his arms over his head before falling mindlessly into his bed. “Earn a fuck ton, then blow it all in Berlin when we jump.”

Popeye snorts, from his corner. “I would bet 50 bucks that you’re gonna end up on the street in your skivvies ‘cause we end up takin’ everything from you.”

Malarkey shoots upward. “Bullshit Pop, I’m gonna strip your pants and put you there–”

“Yeah, Private Bullshit,” Guarnere chips in, “you’re gon’ be farting up a fuckin’ storm, the dames in Berlin ain’t gonna go anywhere near ya. Even I don’t wanna be near ya.”

“Alright, alright,” Malarkey scowls, laughter drifting through the cot. “None of you are getting tips when I win my six grand, you got it?! Except Muck–”

“Hey Toye,” Guarnere cuts him off, and Malarkey flings his arms in the air in exasperation. “What’re you gonna do, huh? You ain’t say nothin’ about ya.”

Joe merely shrugs, his eyelids falling and his head dizzy, both from a hell of a training and the weight of the question. He’s clutching onto the last letter Alice sent him, smoothing out the crumpled edges, trying to hold on to the remnants of her. It’s not like him to be so quiet. Even as a man of few words, Joe is hardly a stranger to wreaking havoc through the cots with Easy Company. But there’s a hole in his chest, taking the shape of her, and he has none of her correspondence this week to get him through.

Guarnere realizes his foul mood, opening his mouth to speak, but Malarkey beats him to it.

“Your girl didn’t send you one of those, shit, dear John letters or something did she?”

Of all things the mick could say, Guarnere thinks, as he scoffs. And that, provokes a storm in Joe Toye, a flash of lightning in his eyes as he shoots a furious glare at Don Malarkey. One that’s evidently working, because the idiot just ducks his head, cowers away back to his bed with a murmur of my bad.

“What’s wrong with ya?” Guarnere probs, unafraid of the tough guy. “Your knuckles are white holdin’ that letter.”

Joe heaves a sigh, lying down. “‘Lice never misses a week, and she’s been quiet for two.”

It takes everything in Bill to tamper a smirk, a twinkle in his eyes because he knows a very special something. 

“I trust ‘Lice, all my heart, but that’s not like her,” Joe adds, slowly.

When she turned sixteen, her father moved to be an executive for the railroads, all the way in California. And despite the distance, she’s never missed a week in sending over a letter. Joe would know, since he’s the man that would drive her to the post office like clockwork at 0900 every Saturday.

“What a sap,” Guarnere tries to comfort, in Wild Bill fashion. “Sounds like you just gotta trust yerself, then.”

And honestly, he’s right. Joe always wonders if he is giving enough, with the words he tries to string together. To him, Alice has a mind most beautiful in its complexity, and even the books envy the way she knows the world. Yes, she’s told him time and time again that love is hardly based on how well one can speak; that his actions have always screamed louder, like the way he holds her tight with his arms, as if everyday is their last.

“Besides,” she would quip, “you’ve gotta beautiful, dirty mouth and I’m the lucky girl who gets to kiss it everyday.”

But now that Joe’s away in Toccoa, the words he bared in his letters were the crumbs of their interactions. It was most difficult to show how he thinks she trumps the galaxy in her bare hands, and shines brighter than moonlight. He knows it in his heart, he just doesn’t know how to tell it. So he settles for a simple, I miss you the most in the mornings, ‘cause it’s always a shit ton more than the night before, as he signs off his letters.

Insecurities have always plagued his mind, but the worst as they come, is that her patience will run out.

(That she will get tired of loving, and waiting, for him.)

“Yeah,” he mutters, “yeah, you’re right.”

He’s about to slip into his dreams with a tightness in his chest, when a rock hard pillow lands on his head.

“What the fuck?!” Joe springs up, light chuckles ringing around the dim room. He snatches the pillow and tosses it, with a slam on the ground, glancing around the cot hastily ‘til his eyes land on one Skinny fucking Sisk. The fella has the audacity to snicker from where he stands, just a few meters away from Joe’s bed. The clear culprit, ‘cause everyone else is already about to be at peace with their mattresses.

Skinny shrugs, his smile impish. “Thought maybe you could use somethin’ to get outta your head.”

“Sisk,” Joe grits, “you’re gonna fucking die!”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The morning of Friday starts with a pit of gloom for Joe Toye. 

But the rest of the cot is rustling, the guys of Easy running in and out the door as they pack their bags, some already drinking whiskey from hidden flasks, ready to tear down the walls of the pubs in Toccoa. Joe has his plan set out–he’s going to eat some real eggs and sausage at a diner, play darts with Luz and Malark, then go back to a little hotel, and sleep for the next two days.

“I’m startin’ to think it’s not just Sobel that hates us,” Liebgott muses. “It’s the whole fuckin’ world that hates us.”

“No Liebgott,” Amy, the new medic, mocking Winters as she dips her weight on Lieb’s bed. “The world just hates you.”

“Yes, yes, and Joe hates the rest of the world too,” Chuck laughs.

He probably does, the Toye Joe thinks. The whole world except Amy Calloway. A frisson of longing bubbles in his throat, in envy of whatever’s floating between her and Liebgott. It’s obvious they’re both too prideful to admit it, but no one can tame an asshole like Liebgott the way she does. It’s the sole connection that they share, and it reminds Joe of his own lover, more than 700 miles away back at home. His person, who is his home.

Fuck, the weekend hasn’t even started, and he’s already feeling sour. Fuck this god damn war. Zipping up his bag, making sure to bring his toothbrush, his underwear, and the photos of Alice; he notices the empty bed of his front neighbor. Scanning the room, he squeezes his brows, as Guarnere seems to be missing in action.

“Hey Malark,” he raises, “where the hell’s Guarnere?”

Malarkey shrugs, a cigarette between his teeth as he drapes his bag on his shoulder.

“No idea, sir Toye. Had to slip out ‘bout an hour ago, but he didn’t say why. Wasn’t at breakfast either.”

“Never fuckin’ call me sir Toye again,” he grumbles, annoyed at the red head. Malarkey flinches at his glare, just scrambles out the cot, his best friend Skip Muck chasing after him. Bill was supposed to be hitting the diner with Joe, but he supposes he’s going alone now. Joe Toye’s got little patience, and he’s not about to waste it.

As he steps out into the open, he finds himself feeling mocked by the sun. In fact, he’s always preferred the rain. The sun pays no mind to the fact of suffering–like the day his father died, each time he steps out smothered in dirt after ten hours in the coal mines, or the painstaking goodbye with Alice when he took off for Toccoa. At least the rain felt soothing; its grayness a piece of sympathy to the hardship on land. He wishes it were his companion now too, as he feels the pain of missing Alice, plainly and deeply.

The soldiers are ramping up, eager to get out of base, as they await their rides by the gates. Little pieces of gravel flick at his uniform as he stands by the dirt road, with Skinny waiting next to him. He can vaguely make out the commotion between Liebgott, Amy and Chuck a few meters away, shoving at the soldiers trying to pick a fight with Liebgott (though, let’s be real he probably started it).

“Gonna hit Charlie’s with Ramirez, take six shots of whiskey, and whatever happens next, I probably won’t remember,” Skinny chimes, when Joe asks about his plans for the weekend. “And then repeat, the next day.”

Joe chuckles, shaking his head as he lights up a cigarette bud, shoving the lighter back in his pocket.

“Gonna seek out a lady?” He asks, casually. “Or you got someone waitin’ on you at home?”

At that, Skinny breathes out a sigh. Tongue poking his cheek as he gazes into the distance, watches the trees sway in a gentle breeze, though his mind is not at all present. Ah shit, Joe thinks, hit a sore spot.

“Sisk,” Joe nudges him, and he winces, clearing his throat as he yanks his brain back in his head.

“No. I don’t.” He finally says, but there’s a tinge of regret that doesn’t slip past Joe.

“What are you,” Skinny asks, distractedly. “What are your plans?”

Frowning slightly, Joe lets it slide, ‘cause the last thing Sisk probably wants is to let his emotions (and his dignity) crack when he’s about to get fucking hammered in a dusty old bar. As he wills a reply, a particular motor car pulls up in the distance. But there’s been a constant rumble of wheels scraping the dirt, the guys cheering out the window as they buzz off, so Joe pays it no mind, back facing the car as he chats with Sisk.

But perhaps, he should have paid a little more attention.

“And I’ll probably just hang back at the hotel, sleep like a fuckin’ baby and–”

“I don’t remember you being such a party pooper, Corporal Toye,” a light voice cuts him off.

His brain short circuits; mouth clamping shut as Skinny’s confused face fades into the background. 

(I’m going fuckin’ crazy–)

A familiar, breathy giggle resounds his ears. “Honey, would you turn around for me, please.”

And he does, slowly but surely, turning his back to the men that were trying to peek their noses into the newfound presence. His breath catches in his throat, though he suspects it’s the same tightness he’s been feeling all week. But his heart is palpitating like it’s about to burst out of his chest. Because when he turns to face her–long red hair neatly styled, that same blue chiffon dress she wore when he realized he was in love, and a splitting grin that outshines the constellations in the sky. Suddenly the sunshine doesn’t feel so bad, when it’s gleaming like gold against her skin, though it is no match for her beauty.

(God, I’m going fuckin’ crazy–)

His body is frozen, and he has to blink a few times to surmise that he’s not going insane, that Alice is there with him.

Guarnere hangs back around by the motor car he picked Alice up in, and merely scoffs because Joe Toye right now, resembles a puffer fish. Skinny’s about to shove the petrified man forward, but Alice, sweet brazen Alice, takes matters into her own hands; rolls her eyes and stomps the road to close the gap between her and Joe, hauling him by his collars, as he stumbles, to seal her lips on his. Now that springs him into action, because Joe has every bit of her soft lips memorized.

A slew of wolf whistles fly through the air, but he's hardly bothered, because she's here with him. And for the first time in a while, he thinks that everything will be okay. He settles into her touch, warm, soft palms sliding against his jaw as he cradles her close, tightening his arms around her waist. The unlikely of this happening, makes him question if this all is real. But when they break apart, noses touching, her striking blue eyes gazes fondly at him, unlike anything he’s ever seen–and he decides that this is, indeed real.

A teasing smile graces her lips. “I’ve known you since diapers, but still you look like you’ve aged ten years.”

Yes, definitely Alice Blythe.

“Sweetheart,” Joe musters, “you’re so goddamn unromantic you know that?”

She chuckles, but her eyes are soft, full of love. “And yet, here you are, lovin’ me to death.”

Malarkey gawks, Muck’s jaw dropping wide open too. Even Skinny’s a little taken aback, nodding his head, feeling weirdly impressed. Everyone has heard about the famous Alice Blythe, seen photos of her neatly arranged on Joe’s bedside too. There’s nothing that gets Joe Toye’s shoulders drooping like when he’s visibly pining for his other half, but nothing would match the sight of Easy’s tough guy, puddling straight into a lovesick pile of mush in the safety of her arms. 

And Joe’s not at all afraid to admit that he gets choked up, whimpering slightly when he says, “I missed you.”

She melts at that, blinking back the threatening of her tears. “Me too. God, I missed you too.”

Looks like this weekend isn’t going to be so bad after all.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

note: hint hint, skinny's story too, hehe.

#band of brothers #joe toye #joe toye x oc #band of brothers x oc #sweet joe x alice #easy company #some nonsense

[ummick]

A Night In Tokyo With Mick Schumacher and A Mercedes 190E Evo II

Driving around Tokyo is daunting. With no centre or suburbs, its road network is huge, spiralling, occasionally latticed and sometimes subterranean. At times, even Mr Roboto in the satnav gives up and shrugs directions your way. Which has happened. Meaning I'm lost while leading Mick Schumacher (behind the wheel of a stunning Mercedes 190E 2.5-16 Evolution II) through Japan's neon-lined labyrinth. It's a hot, humid evening and Mercedes F1's reserve driver (and son of iconic seven-time Formula One world champion Michael Schumacher) is cutting the perfect shape of a 90s boyband member. Where I'm perspiring like a burst pipe, he palms back his blonde curls and looks effortlessly cool in his loose-fitting, oversized Tommy Hilfiger contractual clobber. Sartorially, it couldn't be more of a perfect fit for the car he's driving. Born out of German touring cars, the Evo II is a deeply lustworthy, boxy and bewinged sports saloon. With a revvy, induction-tastic 232bhp four-cylinder engine mated to a dog leg close-ratio five-speed manual, rear-wheel drive and aero appendages that get petrolheads salivating, it's a proper tip one's hat 'if you know, you know' car. Mercedes only built 502 of them (as per DTM's homologation rules) out of some 1.9 million W201 models that it's based on, so they're properly rare beasts. The fact we've got a quadruplet of Evos following Mick makes the situation we're in a bit more mind-blowing. But that's the plan. We wanted to give Mick an evening to remember, to take him away from the repetition and rigmarole of modern media junkets. We don't want to know where he keeps his ketchup, or when the last time he thought of the Roman Empire was. We want to indulge his love for cars.

"I went looking for an Evo II to buy but decided against it… for now," Mick says in his soft, geographically hard to place international accent. "It's a beautiful car and has huge sentimental value to me, the main reason being that my dad had one as a company car when he was a Mercedes junior. He spent a lot of time doing lots of laps on the Nordschleife with Heinz-Harald Frentzen. I remember within a month they had to change the brake pads and things with the engine. So it's an emotionally important car to me." Growing up in Gland, Switzerland, Mick struggles to pinpoint exactly when he got bitten by the road car bug. "Honestly, I don't really know where I got into them. Driving them around the property as a child was a big factor. The first time I had a steering wheel in my hand from a road car was maybe four or five years old, on my dad's lap. I got to drive very nice cars, very soon and very early. I guess it just grew naturally. Especially when I turned 18; then it really turned into an obsession." Raised on a healthy diet of racing, the Fast and Furious franchise and gaming, Mick picked up a penchant for JDM cars by proxy. "I just love how raw and simple they are," he says. "I enjoy playing around with them, changing stuff, tuning them and making them more fun to drive." Knowing this, we head out of Tokyo towards Chiba to meet Japan's most inconspicuous bad boy: Kazuhiko 'Smokey' Nagata. Tobacco and turbo enthusiast Smokey is one of Japan's legendary tuners. He and his company Top Secret have modified every generation of Nissan GT-R, including an R33 Skyline GT-R that managed 0–186mph in 17 seconds at Yatabe test track and 204mph in Tokyo's famous Aqualine tunnel. Like Smokey, Mick is also a GT-R fanboy, with some tucked away in a shed at home, including his R34 drift car.

"I've really got into drifting. As an F1 driver, drifting, or oversteer, is the opposite of what you want to do, but if you control it and have the feel for it, it can really help you. So I took the step of saying 'I want to try it' after the 2019 Race of Champions skill race. I was quite good, finishing second against rally drivers and everything, so I thought, 'Okay, maybe I should try this a bit more,' so I got my own car and started enjoying sideways. I love the sensation of connecting turns and being in a difficult situation, because obviously the car is upset, to then be able to control it. I think that's what's so intriguing. It's a good feeling." Mick's curiosity and JDM love resonates as he wanders around Smokey's GT-R littered shop. Not being able to speak Japanese, Mick uses international hand signals for car nuts to explain various car parts, gets out his phone to show Smokey his cars before stumbling upon Smokey's VR32 GT-R (an R32 with all the mechanics and interior of the R35 transplanted) and trying to find a way to import it into Switzerland. But we've got no time for this, as we've got the legendary Bayshore Route to hit and a car meet to get to. For someone so young, 24-year-old Mick is at a rather quiescent point in his career. Having had a triumphant run in his youth coming second in karting in the World, European and German Junior Championships, then switching to Formula 4 in 2015 and finishing second overall in both the German and Italian F4 championships, before becoming European Formula 3 Champion in 2018 and FIA Formula 2 Champion in 2020, Mick made it to the big leagues and bagged himself a seat in F1 with Haas. It wasn't easy. In 2022 Mick lost his seat after a difficult second season that saw him struggle to match teammate Kevin Magnussen for form. He recorded a best finish of sixth in Austria, one of two points finishes during the season, but it was not enough to save his seat. For 2023, Mick dropped his Ferrari junior ties and linked up with Mercedes (the last team his father raced for in F1), picking up the role of reserve driver.

"Being a reserve driver gives you tremendous insight, especially at Mercedes," Mick says. "I miss driving, I'm not going to lie, but the main thing I've learned since moving from Haas to Mercedes is how the team operates, the tools they have, how they use them and the communication. They're big learning points. It has opened my eyes in a lot of ways and has made it clear why Mercedes is as successful as it is. The worst part is sitting in the garage and seeing everybody drive out and do what you love to do." Part of Mick's remit is to join Mercedes trackside at all F1 race. That's how we're able to blat around Tokyo for a night before he heads to Suzuka to support the team. But time in Merc's state-of-the-art sim back in Brackley is also key. Mick was praised by Mercedes' technical director James Allison for a 2 am shift he did during the British GP weekend, turning the car's "woeful" one-lap pace on Friday into a competitive car and set-up for Lewis Hamilton and George Russell to compete with during quali and the race on Sunday. With every mile behind the Evo II's wheel, Mick's smile grows to match the width of its monstrous rear wing, especially when he realizes it shoots flame on the overrun after a 7,600 rpm toll booth roll out. We cross over to Yokohama and swirl down a concrete pillared plughole, arriving in an unsuspecting parking lot that doubles up as the epicentre of cool Japanese car culture in Japan: Daikoku PA. Mick, having never been to a car meet before, has his eyes widened. Even though it's a school night, the place is pumping. Mick walks around curiously, showing his girlfriend, Danish model Laila Hasanovic, Veilside-kitted Mazda RX-7s, how riveted wide arch Liberty Walk bodywork hangs from an R35 GT-R for the ultimate kerbside stance, and the extended provenance from the flood of awesome, rare Mercedes (including the original 190E Evo I, an AMG-clad W124 and a custom Cosworth 2.5 boasting Penta wheels and Brabus brakes) that are all parked honourably in their uniform herringbone bays. As Mick gets under the bonnets and kindly signs carbon airboxes for marginally hysterical owners, I wonder if he's handy with the spanners.

"I wish I was," he says, "but I don't have the time. I'm starting to bring more of my cars over to my place so that I eventually will be able to work on them myself and change things that I want to change. Currently, I am very good at taking things apart… maybe less gifted at putting them back together." But since the meteoric rise of social media and documentaries like Netflix's Drive to Survive, racing drivers' personalities have been mainlined into public consciousness. Nowadays, it appears drivers' human interests need to be put on display like the plastic dishes outside Daikoku's service station restaurant windows. Yet here, tonight, Mick seems completely at home and relaxed. "It's risky because I feel like I'm a very private person. I like my privacy. Sometimes when you get people wanting to know more, they get a bit too snoopy. I feel it should be my choice how much I share, and what I share, not people trying to figure that out for me." In this job you get to sniff out the car nuts from the blaggers, and Mick's passion is palpable. It's refreshing to see, and a welcome break from the headlines and hearsay currently surrounding him given he's caught in a gloopy limbo where F1 politics, money and raw talent are all currently fighting each other to work out where he'll race next.

As I type, Mick's currently linked with an LMDh drive with Alpine in next year's World Endurance Championship, a move Mercedes F1's big boss Toto Wolff is fine with, as Mick is "part of the family" and "will always have a home." Mick's tone becomes more forlorn when talking about the future, obviously having had a tough few years and aching to get back into an F1 car. I wonder if it takes its toll, and how he pushes through in times of uncertainty. "Having the right people around you," he says. "You need to try and be mentally in the right space and try and get the best out of the situation so that you can, whenever it's necessary, be in the position that you can jump in and be ready to go." After an evening with Mick, you can't help but wish him the best of luck. If all else fails, he could always lean into drifting and see where that takes him. Sideways Schuey. Has a good ring to it, doesn't it?

#mick schumacher #f1 #formula 1 #japanese gp 2023 #fic ref #fic ref 2023 #japan #japan 2023 #japan 2023 thursday #not a race #2023 not a race #between singapore and japan 2023 #tw food #cw food #tw smoking #with michael #childhood photos

[itsgxsly]

HARD TIME

Summary: mick is going through a rough moment and all he wants is to snuggle up in your arms

Pairing: mick schumacher x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 895

Even if Mick loved his job and all the adrenaline rush that came with F1, he hated the part where he had to be away from home for so long. At first it had been difficult to separate from his family, considering that he spent most of his time with them. But when he seemed to have gotten used to loneliness a little more, you came along. It had not been his plan to fall in love with you at any time, he just wanted to be nice to the new girl who had moved into the apartment next to him, but in a short time he saw himself depending on you more than he should, until one day he end up wanting to come back to you after every race. You were his comfort whenever he needed it, you never refused a call or a message even though you were busy. You had become an essential part of his life.

This weekend was no exception. Mexico had been a tough race for Mick. The car did not cooperate and the pressure of not having a seat for the following year fell more and more on his shoulders. On top of all that, not having his people around him took its toll on many nights, missing his parents and his sister, Angie and of course you. It gave him some comfort to know that you and Angie would be waiting for him at home, his apartment where you already spent more time than your own, and he was ready to walk through the door and curl up in your arms for a well-deserved break from everything.

The plane landed after a long haul from Mexico and Mick was almost flying so he could get in his car and get to you as soon as possible. The road that led to his apartment had never been as long as it was right now.

When he finally got the keys out of his pocket and walked through the door, he tossed the overnight bags to the floor and set the suitcase aside. He listened as Angie's footsteps echoed until they reached the entrance, where she threw herself at him with excitement to see her owner after a while.

"Hi girl how are you? have you missed me?" His tone of voice was low when talking to his pet. "I hope you behaved well with mummy"

When he finished greeting Angie, he went directly to his room, knowing that you would already be in bed asleep since it was early in the morning and even if you had wanted to wait for him, your body had not endured sleep. The image that greeted him when he got to the room made him fall more in love with you than he thought he could be. Your body was curled up on the side of his bed, the blankets covering only from your waist down, the rest of your body uncovered revealing one of his Haas jerseys with his number on the back. The image of you in his bed, with his clothes waiting for him asleep so peacefully made him want to hold you for life. He watched you in silence for a few minutes until an impulse got the better of him and he couldn't be apart from you much longer. He changed as fast as he could, stripping off his shirt to just a pair of sweatpants and got into bed next to you as carefully as he could so as not to wake you up, but it was no use when with a small groan you turned towards him.

"Mick?" your sleeping voice sounded adorable to his ears.

"Hey baby, I'm back. I'm sorry I woke you up."

“You haven't woken me up, babe, don’t worry. I have seen the race today. How are you?" you turned on your back, directing all your attention to what you could even while numb. Mick sighed in defeat, and that was your sign that your boy needed a little comfort and love tonight. You surrounded his shoulders with your arm, inciting him to snuggle into your chest, which he did without hesitation twice, sighing again, this time pleased by the comfort you gave him. You caressed his blond hair and his back making meaningless shapes.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked after a while in silence.

“Not now, I just want to relax with you outside of everything. We'll have time to talk about that another moment” his voice sounded like a whisper dragged by the fatigue that filled his body, all your pampering favoring sleep.

"As you wish, love" you didn't press him to speak, but you directly returned to the cuddles, caressing the back of his neck and leaving soft kisses on his forehead, the tip of his nose, his cheek. Mick fell asleep after a short time and you knew it thanks to his relaxed breathing that tickled the crook of your neck. You placed one last final kiss on his forehead before carefully settling down to sleep as well.

"Goodnight baby. I'm sure everything is going to be fine” were your last words before sinking into a deep sleep. Although Mick didn't answer you, you knew very well how grateful he was to have you by his side in these difficult times.

#formula 1 #f1 weekend #mexico gp 2022 #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x y/n #mick schumacher #mick #schumacher #ms47 #haas f1 team