#I Hope he gets a seat somewhere else in the paddock

[nnato]

#guess Nissan got their shit together to at least make something #but love the pic of Sacha and Norman they chose!! #I Hope he gets a seat somewhere else in the paddock #my fruity little frenchie #norman nato #fe

[cl6teen]

GQ COUPLES QUIZ ⍟ CL16

a GQ interview featuring the paddock’s favourite couple

mature/crude language and jokes, fluff, sexual/suggestive innuendos but not a lot, inaccurate tellings of the 2023 season, a lot of questions/inspo taken from the actual couples quizzes on GQ’s yt (rosalia and rauw) reblogs/interactions always appreciated !!

cl6teen 2023. do not copy/repost any of my works/ideas pls!

charles: i’m camera shy so maybe you should start!

y/n: you’re literally the least camera shy person i know, charles.

he laughs and readjusts himself in the wooden chair, placing his hands on the armrests to get comfortable just before speaking.

y/n: get on with it.

charles: hello, i’m charles leclerc, a driver for the scuderia ferrari formula one team.

y/n: and i’m y/n l/n, a model and partial social media influencer.

charles: and today we are here with GQ to do the couples quiz!

you smile, holding the stack of cards in your hands up to the camera.

y/n: i’m going to be asking charles some questions about myself and our relationship, so let’s see if he’s really the paddock’s boyfriend of the season.

charles: i am.

his face is stoic when he meets your eyes, leaving your mouth to tremble in a futile attempt to bite back a giggle. his silence doesn’t last long, laughing at the sight of you doubling over in your seat.

y/n: you’re so serious!

y/n: okay! first question of the day, cha: what is my favourite colour?

charles: come on, this is easy! it’s (fav colour), you’re wearing it now

y/n: correct! you actually bought this for me at the start of the year.

cockily, his eyes pan to the camera and he quick a quick shrug as if to say, ‘no big deal about it’, but you don’t catch it.

y/n: what is my go-to karaoke song?

charles: oh, fuck.

you laugh at the way his eyes widen, mocking his words with a deep tone.

y/n: oh. charles leclerc you should know this.

charles: nono i do, i do mate! give me a moment.

the camera zooms into his face, placing calculations across the screen as he’s searches around in his head for the answer—you just went on a karaoke date some nights before; it was in there somewhere.

charles: ah! voulez-vous by ABBA.

y/n: i should dock you half a point for taking so long, but i’m feeling generous today so i won’t.

y/n: what has been my favourite grand prix of the season so far?

charles: baku, because i won no?

y/n: australia actually—lewis’ win.

he cocks his head at you with a raised brow as if to ask if you were serious, and you rush to cover your smile with the stack of quiz cards.

y/n: i’m joking, of course it was baku!

you briefly reach for his hand.

y/n: my love’s first of many wins of the season.

charles: it’s my turn for a question now, yes?

y/n: no charles, i’m asking you questions right now! you go after i’m done.

charles: then why is it called the couples quiz, GQ! should be called the y/n quiz.

y/n: do you see how whiny he is? wait your turn.

jabbing your manicured thumb towards the monegasque, you shake your head at the camera.

y/n: next question, what is my hidden talent?

charles: but it’s hidden for a reason right? we cannot say it.

you both laugh at his words.

y/n: a hidden talent that only you know of.

charles: well then i definitely can’t say it out loud, i’d get in trouble.

he smirks boyishly, leaving you to gasp and reach over to smack his shoulder.

y/n: say something else! one that can be said.

charles: ermm, you can memorize any recipe you make once.

y/n: that’s normal though.

charles: no it’s not! it’s very weird how you know the exact measurements of everything without having to check. carlos agrees too!

you shrug and give him the point.

y/n: how did we meet?

you turn to the camera and cover your lips from his view before mouthing, ‘he better know this one’.

charles: we met at the monaco grand prix after party in 2021—lewis introduced us and you were too drunk to remember my name.

charles: you didn’t think i forgot, did you?

y/n: i was hoping you forgot the drunk part.

he laughs at the small pout drawing on your face.

y/n: when and where was our first kiss?

charles: monza, 2021—i have it on this bracelet.

he holds up his wrist to show the camera. right above his forza ferrari bracelet is one that has the aforementioned date engraved on it.

y/n: isn’t he so romantic?

y/n: what’s the first thing i eat after waking up—don’t make a joke.

charles: i wasn’t going to make a joke.

dramatically, you roll your eyes at him — the smile on his face says otherwise.

charles: you have yogurt so you have something to snack on while making your actual breakfast.

charles: i’m an observant man.

y/n: my favourite thing about you. so, what have i always wanted to learn?

charles: like sports? or music?

y/n: hmm…let’s do both for two points.

charles: okay…you’ve always wanted to learn piano.

you nod your head as he counts his fingers.

y/n: correct.

charles: and…you want to learn how to play tennis

y/n: wrong! i know how to play tennis charles. i want to learn how to ski.

charles: but you never come with me on my ski trips!

y/n: you always go when i’m working babe.

he gives an apologetic look, which you return with a small smile.

y/n: this one is a bit difficult, but what is my signature scent?

charles: ah…is it one of the margiela?

y/n: i like some of the scents…but no, it is (fav perfume).

rolling his eyes, he takes your wrist to his nose to get a smell.

charles: ah! you do smell good, though.

y/n: merci, mon amour. what are the three main things that i cannot leave my house without?

charles: three things you can’t leave without?

charles: me, of course.

y/n: that’s true! but apart from you.

charles: your lipgloss, your phone, and a pair of flats. you don’t even need to tell me if i’m right, open her bag and check!

[OFF CAMERA]: he’s right.

charles: bring-bring it here!

a hand emerges past the camera to hand charles the vintage chanel bag. with a shit eating grin on his face he opens the bag towards the camera to reveal the three items listed.

charles: where are the rest of your things, my love!

he laughs at the way you snatch your bag from him.

y/n: first of all, lipgloss is meant to be retouched, and heels aren’t always comfortable.

y/n: plus, when’s i’m with him i never need anything else do i?

charles: what’s your next question?

y/n: what is my night time skin care routine?

charles: ehm…can i get the next next question?

you burst out into laughter, doubling over as you try to collect yourself.

y/n: he didn’t even try!

charles: do you know my skin care routine?

y/n: i gave you your skin care routine!

charles: it’s too complicated to remember. please, next question.

y/n: what is my—who approved these questions?

[OFF CAMERA]: our boss, please continue.

y/n: charles, what is my bra size?

charles: easy, (bra size).

silently, you stare at him in slight confusion that he paid attention to such little detail.

y/n: what is the best way to make me laugh?

charles: hearing my laugh!

y/n: that is true! specifically the one where you kind of sound like a duck.

[OFF CAMERA]: alright charles, you’ve scored eleven points.

charles: that’s a good score, no? think you can beat it?

y/n: of course!

charles inconspicuously reaches for his stack placed on the console inbetween your chairs. there’s a cute smile on his face as he shuffles through his cards.

charles: what was my first f1 win?

y/n: spa, 2019. how could i not know!

charles: that’s true! where do i want us to next travel?

y/n: you didn’t tell me this though! charles always does this thing where he surprises me with our vacation destination.

charles: ah, you’re right.

he goes to shuffle the card to the back, but you’re quick to stop him.

y/n: i can guess, but if i get it correct i get two points. is that allowed?

the both of you pause to look past the camera for a go ahead, which is given by a swift thumbs up from the crew.

y/n: i actually don’t know if you want to go here, but i do. morocco?

charles: correct.

y/n: alright guys, look out for morocco baecation photo dumps on my instagram within the next few months!

charles: next question, if i wasn’t an f1 driver, what would i be?

y/n: a tennis player? i would say a footballer but after that charity match…

charles laughs loudly at the mention of his game and the memory of his dive head first into the pitch ground.

charles: tennis player is one of them, so i’ll give the point out of the kindness of my heart.

charles: so, how many kids do i want?

y/n: you want three, but don’t mind two if i can’t handle the stress of a third child. you don’t mind the genders, but it would be nice to have a least one boy and girl in any order.

charles: you have a great memory, my love.

charles: how can you tell that i’m angry?

y/n: oh my god, it’s always written all over your face cha. you get all like this and your bros furrow so much.

you try your hand at imitating it, clenching you jaw and giving your most menacing look to the camera before showing it to charles.

charles: hey you’re pretty good at it!

y/n: i think it’s quite attractive though, i love when the cameras catch it during the grand prix.

he winks at you.

charles: what is my favourite way to spend time with you?

y/n: sex? am i allowed to say that? can you cut this part out?

charles: who has the corrupted mind now! the answer was cooking together!

you make a helpless face at your boyfriend, almost feeling embarrassed that your words are going to be stuck on youtube for all to see.

y/n: whatever.

charles: what is my favourite animal?

y/n: ah…monkeys?

charles: monkeys? monkeys!?

he leans in closer to your seat in disbelief and slight fear.

y/n: wait wait wait!

charles: i’m afraid of monkeys!

y/n: but the little baby ones are so adorable!

charles: no, absolutely not. no point for you, y/n.

he dramatically crosses his forearms to each other to make a large x at your face.

charles: what is my sign?

y/n: libra, next question.

charles: wait—i don’t even know my sign!

y/n: i was the one who told you it!! it was one of our first dates and you asked me about your birth chart!

charles raises a shocked brow towards the camera.

charles: what is my favourite colour on you?

y/n: red on race day, and then sage green or white normally.

charles: it’s lovely seeing your girlfriend in your colour, no?

charles: what is the most annoying thing that comes alongside living with you?

y/n: absolutely nothing.

charles: is that your final answer?

y/n: would it be anything else…?

you both sit and stare at one another in silence.

charles: i don’t like how majority of our bed is taken up by stuffed animals.

you groan loudly at him, reaching over to swat his thigh.

charles: ow! okay, i’ll ask you one more question for redemption. what would be my ideal retirement plan?

y/n: obviously we’ll be married and hopefully with kids. you wouldn’t mind staying in monaco but you’d also like to try living in italy—but in the countryside on a large plot of land.

charles: are you sure that’s not your retirement plan?

y/n: charles leclerc.

charles: okay okay, you’re correct!

y/n: i’m pretty sure i just moped your ass in this quiz

[OFF CAMERA]: actually y/n, you only scored nine points.

charles claps obnoxiously with a wide smile on his face, to which you flip him off and brush him aside.

charles: hah! i guess that settles it!

y/n: whatever, i have you beat in lots of other things.

charles: not this though—but i believe our time is up!

turning to face the camera, you both give a curt wave.

both: thanks for watching our GQ couples quiz!

…

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charles_leclerc stays in morocco ❤️

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #cl16 x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #cl16 #cl16 imagine

[bellezaycafe]

sunsets and self doubt (and words left unspoken) - 2.

Main AO3 tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, 2024 Formula 1 Season

Sadie's Faceclaim: Maia Mitchell (but you can visualise her howver you want :) )

warnings: swearing, hints of romance (ugh).

comments: this is a bit of a filler chapter to characterise some things. enjoy :)

Max Verstappen was passing the Mercedes hospitality and chatting to GP, his race engineer, when someone caught his eye. Dark brown hair, round face, sharp nose and an aura that compared to no others.

“Wait- hang on. Lewis! Lewis!” The older man, who had been leaving his hospitality, looked over and his gaze followed Max’s pointed finger. “Mate, is that who I think it is?”

“Yeah man, I think so.” Lewis’ smile only grew as he agreed.

“Who are you pointing to?” GP asked.

Max hoped that there were no cameras around as he said, “the volunteer from Australia. The good one.”

He didn’t know how else to explain his respect for her in English; to him, she was good.

“It’ll be good to finally learn her name,” Lewis mused, scratching at his neat stubble.

“None of you know her name?” the engineer asked.

“No,” Lewis said. “I never had the chance to find her after the interviews.”

“I saw her the next day, I apologised for my behaviour to her,” Max commented. “But I forgot to ask her for her name.”

GP shook his head. “Alright well, I’ll see you in the garage. Don’t be long.”

Max nodded respectfully while Lewis said, “thank you.”

Then they both charged through the crowd towards the last place they saw the woman.

“Bets on her name?” Lewis asked, zipping his Mercedes suit around his hips.

“I don’t know. Something very Australian?”

“I feel like she’s a Layla or a Nira.”

"I think it's Sadie," came Lando's voice as he squished himself between the champions. "I asked Dave, one of the McLaren staff."

But when they reached the spot she had been, she'd vanished.

Max frowned and tried to use his height to see her but it was hopeless. Lewis pulled his phone out of nowhere and dialled a number. Lando just sat on the edge of a nearby pot plant and, as if by magic, Oscar appeared beside him in a matching McLaren t-shirt.

"Heya," Lewis said into his phone. "I'm gonna need a paddock pass for our garage."

A pause.

"No, ass. I haven't found someone for the weekend and I don't intend to. It's for the girl from Melbourne, the volunteer George told you about... Yes, I know Carmen wants to meet her, that's why I'm asking you for a paddock pass."

Lando laughed from his seat, something boisterous and loud that had surrounding staff glancing over. Oscar was smiling like he was the reason for Lando’s outburst. Max was glad to hear the McLaren driver’s laugh again, it had been too long since they had hung out.

"No, I don't know her last name. I haven't even confirmed her first name... I can't ask her, she's not in front of me... I don't know where she is, we saw her from a distance... Max, Lando and Oscar... Alright, fine. We'll find her."

Lewis hung up and sighed with a glance to the sky.

"They won't give you a pass?" Max guessed.

"They need her name first."

"Did you see who she was with?" Lando asked.

"Yeah," Lewis said. "Some paramedics. I recognised Mark, he's been the on-call medic for years."

Max mulled over the fact he hadn't noticed anyone around her. He also mulled over the excitement little Lando Norris was trying to squash.

"I know where the medic tent is." He almost leapt up from his perch.

Oscar gave Max a knowing smirk as they disappeared into the crowd.

——$——

Sadie had no idea the drivers had seen her. She was hoping that none of the drivers would remember her. She still hadn't seen their interviews from Melbourne and was clueless about the actions the FIA had taken to hand out penalties efficiently.

"Hungry?" Mark, a middle-aged paramedic with greying blonde hair and smile lines besides his eyes, asked.

"I am starving, please tell me there is somewhere I can get a decent sanga."

Mark frowned. "Sanga?"

"Sandwich," Sadie corrected. She was almost bouncing as she spotted the food trucks.

"You Australians are weird," Mark quipped but he couldn't hide his smile.

"And you English are uncultured," she returned.

She liked Mark, they'd met yesterday during practices and clicked. He was her supervisor during the free practice sessions and qualifying but she'd stuck by his side off track too. He didn't mind, he knew she was there, on the other side of the world, alone.

He'd told her at the volunteer's group dinner last night that she was living the dream he had wanted to at 20. He'd had a couple wines and would not shut up about how much his wife would love to meet her.

"Mark, what do you want?" she called over her shoulder as the reached the sandwich truck. When he didn't reply, she glanced behind her.

He was 100 metres back, talking to none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton. Sadie turned back around, remembering her interaction with the drivers in Melbourne.

Another body stepped up beside her, swathed in bright orange.

Correction: Papaya.

Sadie didn't turn, assuming it was a McLaren employee looking for some early lunch.

"It's a surprise to see you here." Lando Norris offered the icebreaker.

She turned at his voice and fought to keep her composure. His brown curls swished as he turned his head towards her. Oscar’s equally brown eyes warmed as he smiled and waved slightly from the otherside of Lando. 

"I didn't think you'd remember me," she said truthfully. Sadie focused her eyes on the bridge of the older driver’s nose as she spoke, she didn't want to meet those ever-changing eyes. She'd already noted that they matched the day's grey sky.

"Most of us did." The driver shrugged. "Carmen, George's partner, wants to meet you. Lewis is trying to get you Mercedes paddock passes."

Sadie groaned at that, stepping closer to the food truck as the line moved forwards. "I'm not stepping near any of your garages unless I'm doing my job. Too many cameras, too many people."

Norris laughed. "Understandable, but Lewis is determined."

Sadie paused for a moment as the line moved again. "How about, I will come and meet Russell and Carmen after the race? I'll meet Carmen while Hamilton and Russell do their interviews and debriefs?"

The same brown curls swayed as Norris nodded. Piastri muttered, "I think they'll agree to that. All the cameras will be focused on the interviews and top three."

Sadie made an 'exactly' gesture and stepped up to the food truck with a goodbye wave.

By the time she had ordered her sandwich and Mark's signature wrap, the drivers had finished speaking with the paramedic.

He joined her while they waited.

"You never told me it was you who scolded Max in Melbourne," Mark noted.

Sadie muttered a curse. "I was hoping that everyone had forgotten about that. I lost my temper and I'm not proud of it."

"Lewis said that you stood up for yourself. Max doesn’t hold a grudge."

"I scolded him like a school teacher."

"You did call him a child."

"Angry, remember?"

"Sandwich and wrap for Sadie!" the food vendor shouted.

She stepped up, collected their food and handed her wrap to Mark.

"I didn't tell anyone about it because I don't like media attention," she told him, but she could feel her sweaty palms. "I hate how the media follows the drivers. They have to fight for a private life, and I hate that. Verstappen was angry, I was angry, and that interaction was something between the drivers and I. It had nothing to do with the fan's consumption of the race."

Mark hummed his agreement around his wrap. He hadn’t noted her shifting feet. 

"The media circus doesn't know what happened, and they don't need to. His reaction was fair, and they don't need to be involved."

Sadie watched something pass over Mark's face but she couldn't place what it was. She devoured her sandwich instead.

Let me know what you think!

credits to saradika-graphics for the banner :)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | AO3 link

Taglist: @snubug @cmleitora @izzy-marvel @aquangxl @morenofilm @viennakarma @simpingcorner @randomgirlnumber-13 @leilanixx @spookystitchery @itsjustkhaos

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fic #formula one #lando norris #max verstappen #lewis hamilton #f1 x oc #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #sunsets and self doubt #oscar piastri

[selfcare-or-procrastination]

I Don't Want to be Your Friend, I Want to Kiss Your Neck | Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: An intervention from Carlos forces you and Charles to confront your feelings for each other (text in bold is a flashback)

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial

Words: 2.8k

a/n: I experimented a bit with the flashbacks in this so I hope it reads okay

You were pretty new at your job at Ferrari but so far you were loving it. You helped with media and handling interviews and were starting to get to know the rest of the team and the drivers better. You predominantly had been working with Charles and had grown quite close already since the start of the season. You loved to wind each other up but it was mostly Charles teasing you.

“Hi princess,” the familiar voice called across the paddock.

You looked around for Charles, he had spotted you from inside the Ferrari office block and was calling at you through the open window. You couldn’t help but smile and wave back to him. You walk into the offices and sit yourself down on the arm of a sofa to check your diary on your phone.

Charles appears and without warning pushes your shoulders, making you fall back onto the seat of the sofa.

“Charles!!” you exclaim, trying not to laugh, “I’m trying to do work.”

“You look cute when you’re working.”

You blush a little at his words which he promptly points out. You stand up with the intention of finding somewhere quieter to plan your day but before you can go, Charles has pulled you into a hug.

“You’ve had your haircut,” you notice when Charles walks past you, “you look good.”

“I -um -thank you,” he stuttered.

“You can’t take a compliment can you, you’re blushing,” you observe.

“I bet I can make you blush too.”

“Go on then.”

Charles walks up to you, getting closer and closer until his nose is almost touching yours, never breaking eye contact. Sure enough you feel your cheeks reddening, he had been so close that it would have hardly taken a second for you to close the gap and kiss him.

“Told you I could do it,” he laughs.

“You’re so annoying, go and do your interviews.”

“I’ll be back in a bit, I’ve just got to work out what interviews you need to do today. Try not to miss me too much,” you joke.

This is how your relationship with Charles had been pretty much since the start. Comfortable, jokey and flirty? You struggled to tell on that part. You knew from your side that you had feelings for him but Charles was friendly and you didn’t know if he was just treating you the same as everyone else.

“I don’t want to go and sit in an office and do work,” you whine as you and Charles sit outside his motorhome enjoying the sun.

“Then stay.”

“I’m procrastinating though,” you say, knowing you’ve got jobs to do.

“Tell me about your weekend plans.”

“Charles, I can’t stay.”

“The work will still be there in a bit, hang out here for a while,” he insists and you don’t take much convincing.

Charles wanted a hug every time he saw you, initially starting out with side hugs like he did with everyone but having now moved to face to face hugs where he rubbed your back or rested his head on your shoulder when he was tired. He called you Princess most of the time but occasionally branched out to ‘pretty’ or ‘darling’ and told you the worst jokes. You knew you were the only one he called Princess around the paddock.

You were stood with Charles and Carlos, rewatching old race footage to identify driving strategies. Watching the races gave you anxiety, seeing how fast they were going, how close they got to each other, knowing what could happen to them.

You realise that Charles is watching you rather than the screen.

“What’s up?” you ask him.

“Nothing you just look so cute with all your little facial expressions watching the race,” he responds, turning to Carlos, “doesn’t she look cute?”

Carlos agrees and you stick your tongue out at Charles who promptly returns the gesture.

“I’d love to watch a horror movie with you.”

“Absolutely not Charles, now watch the races so we can turn this off.”

Most days passed like this. You enjoyed being around Charles and gravitated towards him when you wanted cheering up.

The next day at work you had bought a cake in that you’d made. You couldn’t eat it all yourself but you enjoyed baking so bought it in to share with the team. You cut a slice and wrapped it up to take it to Charles specifically because you knew he’d want some.

You handed him the slice of cake and he gasped in delight.

“Thank you so much Princess, you didn’t have to do that,” he smiled, looking happy with his cake.

“It’s fine, I made too much and I thought you’d like it.

The following day, you pass Charles by his car with the engineers before the race.

“Princess, I have something for you, don’t let me forget.”

You nod and leave him in peace. He has a whole race to deal with today so you’d have to catch him later. Unfortunately a reliability issue yet again means he was unable to finish so you can see him sooner than expected. He is frustrated through the interviews and you can see how stressed and tired he is. As you walk back to the motorhomes you decide to ask him what he got you. A smile spreads across his face and he runs back to his motorhome and reappears with an entire cake that he had somehow had time to buy.

“Charles that’s so sweet of you thank you,” you say as he pulls you into a hug, rubbing your back.

“Next time I will try and bake something,” he promises as he pulls away, “have you got any plans for this evening?”

“No no, I don’t usually plan much for after work.”

“Carlos and I are going for a drink after our shit day, you should come.”

The invite is the first time you would have crossed the boundary to seeing him outside work. He hasn’t ever even seen you in your own clothes. You’ve talked to him about what he likes to do in his spare time and nights out he’s been on but you’d never been invited before.

“Yeah okay, that would be nice.”

He smiles again and heads off to sort himself out after the race, shouting a time and location at you as he goes. You are looking forward to seeing him outside of work but are also nervous as you don’t know Carlos as well. You’ve spoken to him a few times as casual conversation and he told you that you had nice eyes but that was it except for work related stuff.

After work, you dress yourself up in the outfit that makes you feel most confident and do your hair and makeup. You head out to where Charles said to meet but you’re a little early and Carlos is the only one there.

“You look incredible,” Carlos compliments, “not being at work suits you.”

You smile gratefully and thank him for the compliment, hoping that Charles thinks the same when he gets here. You sit with Carlos and he continues to shower you in compliments, it’s obvious he likes you and to be honest it’s almost a welcome relief to know where you stand with someone. Charles is unbelievably late so you and Carlos get up to dance while you wait for him.

After you’ve been dancing together for a while, Carlos takes a step towards you and presses a kiss to your lips. You stand there in shock for a second before you take a step back to break the kiss.

“I’m sorry Carlos, I can’t do this. It is such a compliment honestly but I have feelings for someone else,” you say apologetically.

“I know, I’ve seen you with Charles,” Carlos sounds disappointed, “I just thought if it wasn’t going anywhere it was worth a try.”

You apologise again, unsure what to do now. Thankfully Charles appears and you are relieved not to be one to one with Carlos after just turning him down.

“Can I speak to you privately please?” Charles asks you.

He doesn’t say ‘sorry I’m a late’ or ‘you look nice’ or even ‘hello.’ You nod and he directs you over to a quieter corner of the bar.

“Hi,” you say as he doesn’t seem to be bothering with greetings.

“What the fuck Y/N.”

You stand there confused at Charles’s sudden outburst.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just saw you kissing Carlos!” he says angrily.

“Okay first of all, he kissed me and I stopped it. Second of all, why does it matter?” you decide to try and work out what his feelings are.

“Because I thought we had something!”

Charles is getting increasingly loud and angry and your press brain kicks into gear, not wanting people to see this.

“Let’s go somewhere more private,” you suggest.

You leave the bar and walk around the back to where they seem to keep the bins. Now you are in private you can return the anger.

“What do you mean you thought we had something,” you sound frustrated but you have been for weeks.

“I don’t know, just the way we are with each other, I thought it might be something.”

“When Charles? When did you think it might be something because we’ve been this way with each other for over two months now and nothing has happened,” your anger and confusion that you have felt about his behaviour towards you is evident, “how was I supposed to know you liked me?”

“Just by the way I was with you!”

“Okay so you’re friendly with everyone but I’m supposed to know for sure that it’s different with me? I’ve tried to bring it up, I’ve talked to you about relationships and feelings and you brushed it aside. Don’t you think I’ve had feelings for you since the day we met?!”

It was your first day at Ferrari and you were walking with Charles through the crowd of fans when he spotted a young boy that was holding out a piece of paper for an autograph. He stopped and crouched down to his height and chatted to him for a while. Charles took his cap off his head, signed it and gave it to the boy who was over the moon. Watching the interaction warmed your heart, there was something about men with children that you just found so attractive.

“You have feelings for me?” Charles asks, his voice calming.

“Of course I fucking do Charles, how could I not?”

He steps towards you making you try and take a step back but your back is against the brick wall of the bar.

“Then let’s stop messing around,” he presses his lips to yours and your hands immediately wrap round the back of his neck in response.

The kiss is passionate, you both conveying just how long you’ve been waiting for this moment. Your fingers are tangled in his hair and his tongue slips into your mouth, making you moan.

“We shouldn’t do this here,” you whisper as you both pause to catch your breath.

Charles takes your hand and begins to walk you back to the main road at the front of the bar. He finds a taxi and pulls you in behind him, instructing the driver to take you both back to the hotel.

The taxi ride is uncomfortable. Charles keeps his hand on your thigh, which is one of your biggest turn ons but neither of you speak. Thankfully it’s only a short journey and you then you are both rushing into the hotel and into the elevator.

As the elevator doors shut, Charles pushes you back against the wall, kissing you again after what feels like far too long. The line is blurry between whether you are both still angry or both just getting out the frustrations you’ve had at wanting to kiss like this for months. You can hardly keep your hands off each other as you walk up the hotel corridor, you’d already started unbuttoning Charles’s shirt before you’d got to the hotel room door. He fumbles with the key card as you continue to kiss and he walks you backwards until your legs hit the edge of the bed and you both fall back down onto it.

By this time you’ve managed to get his shirt off and Charles is pressing kisses to your neck, another of your biggest turn ons. Charles slides his hands up underneath your dress making it bunch up around your waist.

“Let me show you how I feel about you.”

The words from his mouth make you moan in anticipation as he kisses and sucks the skin on your inner thighs, sure to leave a mark. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulls them down your legs quickly. There are no pauses from either of you, you’ve both thought about doing this for far too long to hang around now it’s actually happening.

Charles’s tongue dives into your folds, alternating between flicking his tongue against your clit and licking at your entrance. It doesn’t take long before he has slid two fingers into your wet pussy, curving them up to hit your sweet spot. His mouth focuses on your sensitive nerve endings, sucking gently. He continues his movements, taking in how sweet you taste and how it’s even better than all the times he imagined doing this to you. Your head is pressed back into the bed, your hands gripping the bed sheets as Charles’s actions bring you closer to your high. He places your legs over his shoulders to get a better angle and you are quickly telling him that you’re close.

“Not yet Princess, I want us to cum together for our first time,” he says, abruptly stopping his movements.

You groan at the loss of contact and he smirks at you. He doesn’t make you wait long as you fumble with his jeans, pushing them off him. Charles lines himself up with your entrance and you wiggle your hips, desperate to have him inside of you.

“Charles please,” you whisper.

Hearing the desperation in your voice makes him want to lose control and he pushes his hips forward, not stopping until he’s bottomed out inside you. You could have done with a second to adjust but the feeling of being inside you is too much to let Charles think straight and he’s thrusting into you almost immediately. It doesn’t take long before the slight discomfort is replaced by immense pleasure and you let out an almost pornographic moan. You wrap your legs around his waist which changes the angle of his thrusts, somehow making it feel even better.

Charles has set a quick pace, not letting up with the kisses on your neck that are sure to leave bruises tomorrow but you don’t care. Your back arches slightly against the bed and you do your best to keep your eyes open so you can remember this and how Charles looks.

He has sweat starting to drip down his forehead and his hair is messy from you knotting your fingers in it. His muscles are tense and his lips are parted as he groans and mumbles curse words under his breath.

“Do you understand how I feel about you now?” he asks, reaching down to rub your swollen clit.

“Yes, yes,” you stutter out, your clit is still sensitive from the orgasm he almost let you have before and you begin to see stars.

“Say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours Charles, I always have been,” you answer honestly, even if Carlos had expressed an interest in you, you had always wanted Charles.

He groans at your words, somehow managing to thrust his hips into yours even harder then before. The room is filled with the sound of his thrusts and both of your moans.

“You’re squeezing me so fucking tight princess.”

You feel the familiar sensation building up in your lower stomach and you know you won’t last much longer.

“Charles I’m close,” you moan, feeling yourself clenching around him.

“Me too, it’s okay, you can cum.”

His words of permission are all you need to tighten around him and let your orgasm hit you. The long build up to it has you digging your nails into his skin and bucking your hips up to meet his, completely out of control of your movements. Your actions bring Charles to his high only seconds later and you can feel his warm seed spilling into you.

His thrusts grow sloppy and you both ride out the aftershocks of your high and catch your breath. Charles gently pulls out of you and you whine at the loss. He lays down beside you and you snuggle into his chest.

“I don’t know why we waited two months to do that,” Charles says, still breathing heavily.

“Me neither, let’s not wait two months until the next time,” you laugh.

a/n: congrats if you made it this far, it turned into a long one. Everything up to them going to the bar is happening between me and my ‘friend’ at work and I’m very stressed trying to work out if he has feelings for me or not. The second part is what I’d like to happen haha. Not that any of you asked but I need to share my confusion with someone!

#Charles Leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc x fem!reader #charles leclerc one shot #formula 1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 fic #formula one fanfic #formula one fanfiction #formula one x you #formula 1 smut #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 x you #ferrari formula one #ferrari f1 #ferrari #cl16 #carlos sainz #carlos sainz fanfiction #carlos sainz jr #charles leclerc fanfic

[toxinwing]

So then, final race of the 2022 is done and the season wraps up. And now that I finished my little blubbering session and had some water, I’m feeling good to do my final race summary for this year.

Well, first off, congrats to the podium finishers, Max, Charles, and Checo. I mean, what can you really say that hasn’t been said. Max was incredible dominant this year. Which, yeah, doesn’t make for the most interesting of races, but the guy’s certainly got some skills when it comes to driving. Charles was close to him multiple times this year, drove well, but that Ferrari just couldn’t quite bring the results they needed. And Checo starting this weekend neck and neck with Charles gave us that bit of “can he, can’t he” tension that Abu Dhabi does kinda need. Sorry, not sorry to the track. :P

Well done to the rest of the top ten finishers, too. In order we had Carlos, George, Lando, Esteban, Lance, Dan, and Seb. George actually finished pretty well, despite taking that 5 second time penalty. And it was nice to see Dan and Seb get some final points in their last races. And I think I already rambled enough in my pre-race ramble, but I’m definitely going to miss Seb. I certainly hope we’ll see him in a paddock or two in the future, though. Dan of course being another notable personality in the paddock that I’ll miss not seeing on track. Gosh dang, I don’t need to start up the waterworks again. :P

Good job to the rest of the race finishers, as well. In order we had Yuki, Zhou, Alex, Pierre, Val, Mick, and K-Mag. Zhou, by the way, won the rookie of the year trophy...yes, he was the only rookie on the grid, but still. They did give him the trophy! And Mick is of course another one of the drivers who we won’t be seeing on the grid next year. I certainly hope he can pick up a seat somewhere in the near future.

And finally, we have the drivers who didn’t get to see the checkered flag. First out was Nando, who I think suffered a water pressure issue that took him out of the race. Then Lewis had a hydraulic failure that ended his race just a few laps before the end of the race. And during that kerfuffle with Lewis pitting and Checo trying to chase down Charles, Nicholas also pulled into his garage to retire. Both from the race and from F1, as he’s the last of the drivers saying goodbye for now from F1. And...yeah, his race results I’m sure speak a bit louder than anything else but, even so, I hope whatever he does after this he enjoys himself. From one Nick to another. And as for Nando and Lewis, I hope they can both get more out of their cars next year.

So then, that’s that! The 2022 F1 season done and done. Felt like it took it’s sweet time but also flew right by. And as much as I’m liable to grumble a bit about back to back race weekends, I’m sure by next week I’ll be missing not having another race to watch. What can ya do. :P

Well, this is where I’ll say that my liveblogging is done. And of course not just for today but for a good while as we’re now heading into the winter break. I’ve been awfully quiet recently, only popping up for race weekends, but that’s just because I often feel I don’t have much to talk or ramble about. :P But perhaps I can post a few drawings of mine over the break. Goodness knows I doodle a fair bit, I should actually do something with all these megabytes of sketches instead of letting them gather dust in my hard drive... Well, we’ll see!

So, long rambly post over. I hope y’all have a lovely rest of your day, a lovely rest of your year, and I’ll hopefully see you come next year for some F1. Later!

#Nick Liveblogs F1 #Abu Dhabi GP #Long post...whoops #Got a bit carried away there I think #But I have been known to ramble so I suppose that tracks :P

[theringers]

illicit affairs - pierre gasly

summary: “It's born from just one single glance but it dies, and it dies, and it dies, a million little times”

request: You asked for angst so… Taylor swift’s illicit affairs based imagine with mr gasly?

a/n: this request came to me just a few hours ago but as soon as i listened to the song with this in mind i couldn’t stop writing so enjoy lovelies xoxo

“request: So i was thinking maybe that pierre and the reader sleep with each other but pierre has a gf🌝” is wife good enough???

warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, angst, cheating, sex ig

missing the days on tumblr of b&w gifs so i’m including this one to get ya thinking bc it’s what inspired me xoxo

The sun was beating down in the paddock where you walked hand in hand with your husband. A photographer was seated a few feet away and tried to grab your attention for a quick shot. “Y/n, over here,” they said. You smiled and waved to appease them.

It was a hectic weekend in Austria, the second race of a double-header. You wandered as you people watched, one of your favorite hobbies. Your eyes met with Pierre’s in the Alpha Tauri garage, sending chills all the way through your body.

“You okay?” Your husband looked down at you to make sure you were comfortable, taking notice of your shivers. He knew that sometimes this whole environment could be too overwhelming for you.

You nodded in response. “I’m okay.” You smiled at him, thankful for his sweet gesture. Even on race weekends, you were a top priority for him. You looked past your husband and saw Pierre still focused on you. He was in his white fireproof suit, half of it hanging around his waist, and messing with his earbuds, but his gaze was directed anywhere else but his garage.

Sweat started to pool on your palms and you’d hoped Max didn’t notice. He didn’t need anything else to worry about today except for winning the race. In the distance, Pierre pulled his undershirt up to wipe off the sweat on his face, exposing his tanned and toned abdomen. You took a deep breath, starting to feel faint. He wasn’t doing anything on purpose but your mind couldn’t help but think back to a few weeks ago.

“C’mon buddy!” You patted your legs, trying to get your dog off the couch. You held his leash in your hand. “Wanna go for a walk?” The word walk sending him and his curly golden hair barreling full speed at you. You laughed at him and put his leash on, heading out the door.

It was a hot summer morning in Monaco and despite the fact that you had no effort to do anything today, you decided to get up and take Winston for a walk. After you got home, you could relax and settle in for the rest of the day.

Max had left yesterday for the UK. He was working on a promotional photoshoot for one of his sponsors and was supposed to be gone for at least a few days. You took this opportunity to get the apartment in order and spend some extra time on self-care. Today you had planned a bath, face mask, and a manicure.

Winston’s favorite place to walk was along the harbor. There were always so many people he could stop and sniff. He was also mesmerized watching boats come and go out of their slips. You were hoping someday that Max would come to his senses and agree to get a boat. You lived in Monaco for crying out loud. It was about damn time. Winston would love it too, and Max always wanted Winston to be happy.

You tugged on Winston's leash so he would stop staring out at the water and actually walk somewhere. He wouldn't budge and you groaned, hoping to get a move on. "Winston, buddy, come on. Mommy wants to go home and take a nap."

"Oh, that's hilarious," a familiar voice said, getting closer. You looked up and saw Pierre, shirtless and jogging towards you.

A laugh escaped your lips. "Hi, Pierre."

"He's not cooperating, huh?" He took out his headphones and tried to catch his breath.

"Unfortunately not. He really likes to watch things. And not move when he does it. Not a great multitasker, I guess."

He bent down to the ground and started to scratch Winston's head. "At least you're cute," he said, giving him a kiss. He pet him a few more times before standing up. "How are you, y/n? I haven't seen you around the paddock lately."

"I'm doing well! I was at the race last weekend, but I watched it from Max's drivers room. I wasn't feeling too great and the heat wasn't helping."

"Totally understandable. It can get so hot around there." He shuffled his feet for a moment. "Where's Max at? I usually see him walking the dog around this time." Monaco was a small city and it was convenient to have friends around always.

"He flew out to London yesterday. Some sponsor photoshoot thing."

Pierre nodded. "Ahhh." He was all too familiar with the promo shoots. "Well, if you don't have any plans tonight, I'm having some friends and family over for dinner if you feel like spending your night with good company."

Even though you were planning on spending the evening inside, Pierre's invitation sounded like a good time. "Sure, that sounds great." The corners of your lips curved up into a smile. "What time?"

"Any time after 6 works."

"Let me know if there's anything I can bring, I'd be more than happy to help out."

"I appreciate that, y/n." He pulled his headphones out of his pocket to get started on his run again. "I'll see you later?" He began to back away.

You laughed. "See you then."

6 o'clock came quicker than you expected. You knocked on Pierre's front door with a bottle of wine in hand. He opened the door with a smile plastered on his face. "Y/n. So glad you could come." He embraced you and placed a quick kiss on each cheek.

You looked around as you walked into his apartment. "I can't remember the last time I was here. Your birthday, maybe?"

"That was a long time ago." He took the bottle of wine from your hand and directed you to the kitchen where everyone stood around the island socializing. You introduced yourself to friends of his you hadn't met before and said hello to those you have.

The marble island was covered in hors d'oeuvres and small bites. The food looked delicious and was beautifully prepared - you were sure Pierre had this dinner catered. Or there was a secret chef hiding in his prep kitchen. Either way, you were happy to be here.

Moving to Monaco after your wedding last year was definitely an adjustment. You left all of your friends back home and you missed them dearly. They did come to visit often but it was the times between visits where you didn't have anything to do, your husband was out of town on work, and things could get lonely. Times like these. When you wished you had friends to have fun dinner parties with. You were blessed that a lot of Max's friends and other drivers lived in Monaco, too. Pierre was sweet to open his home to you and invite you tonight.

The night was filled with small talk and fun chats with Pierre's family and friends. He had a cousin who was local to Monaco that you got on really well with. You exchanged numbers with her and hoped that she could be someone to fill your free time with.

You took the final sip of your wine as Pierre watched you. "Another?" He asked.

"I shouldn't. It's getting late." You set the glass of wine down on the counter. "Let me help you clean, though.” Over the last hour, guests had slowly trickled out, leaving just you and Pierre to finish your drinks.

"You don't have to do that," he petitioned.

You smiled at him. "What if I want to?"

“Fine, if you insist.” He laughed.

You started to gather napkins and trash from the counters and dining table, tossing them in the garbage. You grabbed a plate with some food scraps on it and walked over to the trash can. You scraped what was left of the small bites into the trash when Pierre walked behind you.

"Excusez moi," he said, placing his hands on your lower back to pass by. His fingers were filled with electricity and your eyes immediately shot up when he touched you. You were frozen in time, and so was he, his hands unmoving. Unsure of how to respond, you said nothing. Your eyes were glued forward and you weren't sure how to proceed.

Your heartbeat became prominent and it was all you could feel. The thumps of your heart and his fingers. And the cool metal on his ring finger. "Y/n," he leaned down and whispered into your ear. You took a deep breath in and exhaled. He gently kissed the sweet spot behind your ear and leaned back, waiting for a response from you. He didn't want to continue unless you did.

You put the plate on the counter and turned around, taking in another deep breath. You looked up at him and he ran his tongue slowly between his lips. His hand embraced your face and he leaned in to press your lips together. You kissed him back, letting your mouth open slightly to allow his tongue into your mouth. The kisses were soft and rhythmic, hands shifting from cupping each other's faces to running your fingers through each other's hair.

He leaned into you, pressing you against the island. You softly moaned into the kiss causing him to roll his pelvis against yours. Your bodies fit together perfectly as your arms wrapped around each other.

You felt the cold stone against your bare thighs. Pierre hoisted you up onto the counter without breaking the kiss. His hands rested on your legs, thumbs moving from side to side over your soft skin.

Max's thumb rubbed your hand in his. "You sure you're okay?" His voice knocked you out of your trance.

"I'm okay," you forced a soft smile and continued walking the paddock towards the Red Bull garage.

The race went as expected. Many would complain about the lack of excitement but you were excited to see your husband on the podium once again.

While you were packing up a few things in his driver's room, he walked in with a smile on his face. "Some of the crew are heading out for drinks tonight to celebrate. Join me?"

"I think I'm going to have to pass on this one tonight, but you deserve to go and celebrate." You pulled Max in for a hug and kissed his cheek. "Congratulations, baby."

He quickly changed out of his race suit and prepared to head out. “Let me know when you get back to the hotel, okay?” You nodded to him as he walked out the door. You only had a few more things to pack up before you could catch a car back to your hotel.

You threw your bags down on the bed and fell backward in exhaustion. Race weekends were a lot of work and took a lot out of you. Especially now after your encounter with Pierre, it took a lot more work to go to the races and act like everything was normal.

You could not believe what you did that night a few weeks ago and you thought about it for days and weeks after. But for what it was worth, you didn't regret a single moment of it. Pierre made you feel so incredible, a way you've never felt before.

He kissed you and worshipped your body like you were the only girl in the world. His main priority was making you feel good and he didn't stop until you were completely satisfied. Your hand grazed over your breast thinking about that night, wishing it was Pierre's strong hand. Your mind wandered to his long fingers that sent you over the edge more than once on his kitchen counter.

You were interrupted by a knock at your hotel door. Still in a bit of a trance, you opened the door, only to see the man you were daydreaming about staring back at you. "Can I come in?"

You nodded and stepped out of the way, shutting the door behind him.

"You decided not to go out with the team tonight?" He asked.

"I wasn't feeling it. Today was a bit... overwhelming."

"Tell me about it." Pierre had a tough race, finishing ninth place ultimately. It made sense why he was here instead of out with the rest of the Red Bull crew. He paced around the room slowly.

"We need-"

"Y/n-" you both spoke at the same time.

You took a breath. "What were you going to say?"

"I wanted to talk about what happened that night at my place." He took a step towards you. "But, I-" his voice dropped deeper as he cleared his throat. "I'm not sure."

He looked in your eyes and you swore time stopped. "Do we have to?"

He shook his head side to side and closed the gap between you with a passionate kiss. Many thoughts ran through your head but not a single one indicating that this was wrong.

"Max could walk in at any moment," you broke the kiss.

"I don't care."

He embraced you tightly and you felt at home in his arms. You sat back on the bed and pulled him down on top of you. His lips left your mouth and kissed down your neck. The trail followed to your exposed cleavage and down your stomach.

He reached the top of your thighs and pushed your sundress up. He kissed both of your hip bones and peeled off your lace thong.

His lips met your clit and you immediately jerked in response. He took notice, placing his forearm across your abdomen to keep you in place.

"Oh, Pierre," your legs tightened around his head but he used his free hand to push your knees down onto the bed. He flicked his tongue and sucked on your sensitive spot while you moaned and reacted to his touches.

He lifted his mouth and his thumb gently brushed between your folds. "I want to make you feel good." Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at his words.

"I need you, Pierre. Please," you pleaded. He knew how to make you feel good but right now, you needed him inside of you. He slid off his shorts and undergarments and reached in his pocket for a condom.

You moaned at the feeling of him inside of you, unlike anything you've ever experienced. He thrust into you and looked into your eyes, smiling. You returned the smile quickly before letting out a breathy moan. "You feel so good inside of me."

He grunted and began to thrust harder. "Your pussy feels like heaven." It wasn't long after before he spilled into the condom and pulled out. He cleaned up after himself and laid down next to you on the bed.

"We're going to need to talk about this eventually."

"Today's not that day." You sat up slowly and walked into the bathroom. "Make sure no one sees you leave." You shut the bathroom door behind you.

All he wanted was to lay with you and talk about life. Talk about your futures, your hopes, his dreams. He wanted to tell you to drop the attitude and give him a kiss. He wanted to tell you to stop being so short with him but he couldn't. He wanted to pick you up and spin you around, seeing you smile and know that he was the reason for it.

He had to take what he could get and not expect anything more. Especially from a married woman. Max's wife.

He left without words or conversations. You couldn't bear to accept the truth of what you two had done and what better way to do that than to ignore it?

Weeks had passed and you hadn't seen him around Monaco too much. You actively avoided him in the paddock because you didn't need a repeat of Austria happening again. Max knew something was off that day but he didn’t know what. And you wanted to keep it that way.

It was late one night and Max was already in bed, preparing for an early workout tomorrow. You wandered out to the balcony to get some fresh air and clear your head. People watching and staring up at the stars.

A familiar figure ran under the street lights and glanced up to the third floor apartment as he ran by.

Not too long after, your phone buzzed with a text. "I'm coming to pick you up" the text read. You looked down and saw the shirtless man in running shorts and sneakers jogging back to where he came from.

You could hear the rumble of his sports car down the street, but in Monaco, that wasn't unusual, no matter the time of day.

You were careful to shut the door quietly as you walked down the stairs to the street. You wore a big hoodie over your head and ducked into his car as he pulled up.

Driving away, he spoke. "I can't keep doing this."

"This is the first time we've done this." You looked at him confused.

"No, I mean I can't keep going home to my wife every night and pretending like everything is okay. I go out running every night because my thoughts are flooded with you when I lay down to sleep."

You let out an ironic chuckle. "At least you know how I feel, then."

“We either need to do something about this, or stop doing this, because I can’t handle it anymore.” His grip on the steering wheel was tight and he glanced over at you to gauge your feelings.

“I feel the most like myself when I’m with you,” you said softly, “and I hate to admit it.” You twiddled with your fingers trying to process your thoughts.

“Don’t you want to be happy?” He asked.

“I do, but there’s only so much I can do about it. There’s only so much you can do about it too.” You held up your left hand flashing your massive diamond ring at him. “Look at the mess we made, Pierre.”

He followed suit with an accepting, flat smile and a wedding band on his left ring finger. “We fucked up.”

“What do you want to do?” You asked him, curious to see where exactly his head was at.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, really. I know you’re never going to leave him. He’s Max fucking Verstappen for crying out loud. The fact that I was delusional enough to think things would change is my fault.”

You looked down at your hands. “So you would leave her for me?”

“You won’t leave Max.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, Pierre.”

He inhaled deeply and you watched as his chest rose and fell. “I’ve never felt this way in my entire life. Not even on my wedding day. If that doesn’t tell you how I feel-”

“Just answer the question.” You bluntly interrupted him.

“Yes.”

next part

#pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly imagine #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 angst #f1 blurb #f1 x reader #smut prompts #f1 fanfic #max verstappen fanfic #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly #pg #mv

[mctreeleth]

A couple of years ago for my birthday my parents decided they would pay for us to go on The Overland, which is the train between Adelaide and Melbourne - they had gotten to do part of it for practical, "needing to get somewhere without a car" reasons, but I had missed out, which is deeply unfair because I love trains. Just, so much. 

Trains delight me in the same way that an old mechanical sewing machine does, but I also love them in a more romanticised sense as well - as someone whose brain is always going every which way, with no real ultimate destination, who struggles with follow-through and maintaining momentum, trains are, frankly, aspirational. To me a train is like a cool older cousin who has their shit together, a wild animal you are sometimes lucky enough to spot out in nature, an amazing piece of engineering, and a monument to the amazing power of a society working together to make infrastructure, all rolled into one big machine that even non-sentimental people are sometimes willing to concede might just be the kind of technology to have a soul. I love trains.

So naturally I was pretty bummed when shortly after, covid hit and the borders closed, stopping the passenger train from running. Then came a brief period when the service looked like it would never restart, before the state governments stepped in with additional funding to keep the service going. Finally, the borders were open, we were all triple vaxxed, and me, Mum, Dad and my other train-loving sister were free at the same time to do Adelaide-Melbourne on the Sunday and Melbourne-Adelaide on the Monday.

Then the service got cancelled and replaced with a bus route. Then that happened again the following week. We still don't know if it was a case of not enough seats being occupied to make the trip economically viable for the company, or if something else was going on, but finally, we had confirmation; the train was going to be doing that trip, we were going to be on it.

We got to the station at the ungodly time of 6.45am for a 7.45 departure, and the lady at the counter made the usual casual conversation of "what are you travelling for?" type questions as she checked us in, and when Mum told her that she (pointing to me, basically vibrating with excitement) just really loves trains so we paid for the trip for her birthday, we’re coming back again tomorrow, the lady was like, oh yes, we get families doing that, and looked over at another family; mum, dad, visibly excited assumedly-also-autistic adult son seated in the terminal. They also went out to watch the locomotive being attached to the carriages, but they had booked in the premium carriages so we didn't see them except for again the next morning, as they also boarded back to Adelaide, the actual destination little more than a dull, 12 hour gap in the joyous experience that is getting to be on a train. 

I wonder if he was also the only one of his group not to have a nap on the journey. Being on a train is too interesting to sleep through, even if the majority of the journey is just wheat paddocks. Still, that is enough for my family to invent a wild conspiracy in the central highlands of Victoria regarding stolen windmill blades, which I am sure absolutely baffled the other people sitting nearby.

Travelling through the Adelaide Hills was definitely my favourite part, but there was also a few hours travelling alongside the highway that I drive to go back home, a drive I always spend hoping to see a train. I never do it at the same time as The Overland, but about a third of my drives I get to see the cargo train at some point. I hope all the drivers we passed were as excited to see us as I would have been.

We pointed out broken down classic car bodies and old boats in back yards that my sister and dad could buy and restore as we passed through tiny towns, even going so far as to drop some pins on google maps at ones they were thinking about maybe making a roadtrip to go and make an offer on. 

And we arrived in Melbourne, checked into our hotel, went to the casino for dinner, Mum and Dad played the pokies for half an hour while my sister and I found a bar and skulled two beers each, and then spent another half an hour battling fierce indigestion as we tried to all find each other to go back to the hotel. And then we got up very early the next morning, sat on the other side of the train, and went the other way. 

My family napped for a bit, Dad spent an hour eagle-eyed back on the other side looking for a boat in a paddock that Mum and I had spotted the day before, it rained a bit as we went through the hills again, we absolutely smoked a metro train that was going boring metro-train speeds though Lynton, and arrived 5 minutes early, which would have been a bummer for me but for the fact that I was still rising high on the thrill of going so much faster than that other train.

Dad thinks we should just do the whole of the east coast little by little, taking cheap flights when they come up to do the Melbourne-Sydney, Sydney-Brisbane, and Brisbane-Far North Queensland journeys over the next couple of years. I am very keen.

#my birthday train trip #long post #then mum and dad went and stayed in a hotel in the city because mum had a very early doctor's appointment #and my sister came to mine and we had an early night #and then the next morning we went and got Dad and went to IKEA while Mum had her appointments #and then they drove back home after lunch and I went home and had a nap and a shower #and then I went and saw a show at the fringe and had dinner with the girls #and that seems to be enough tags that I can now pepper in the fact that I did inadvertently end up with a bag of party drugs #in the taxi that we took home from the casino there was a small ziplock bag on the back seat #and I instinctively grabbed it and put it in my bag so dad didn't see it #and then instantly forgot about it till the next morning #and I only do drugs that I got from my doctor or that came from the garden #so there is just a small bag of crystal in my kitchen #I have given some thought to dropping it at work just to stir up some drama #because what else am I supposed to do with it? #also the photos were all taken on my papershoot which - honest review - not great at motion shots #most of the photos were blurry especially through the hills where the trees are much closer

[donaidk]

Mick Schumacher - Worth the wait

I’m sorry for slacking in the last few days, I had a few things around uni I had to get done before sitting down and writing. But I’m now back with another Mick oneshot that I hope you guys will like 😊 Thank you for the request and wishing a great week for everyone 🥰🧡

Masterlist | Taglist/Queue | Request

Looking through the closet Y/N really didn’t know what she should put on for the day that was comfortable but at the same time would look good. Usually she wouldn’t really care about looks and fashion if she wanted to dress comfy, but knowing how many cameras and photographers will be there during the day, she felt like it was a must this time. All the fans looked at those photos before or after the races, her being one of them as on several occasions those were the only way for her to see Mick other than during their FaceTime calls. However, this time she would be on them too, and even though she promised herself it wouldn’t matter, in the end it wasn’t that easy to get over. She did care about what the fans will think about her, although less than what Mick’s crew members and team members will. That was probably the most nerve wracking part of the weekend. Y/N already met some of them as she attended the first practice session on friday, but staying in the background and not even entering the garage meant she stayed a stranger to them until today.

“ You can take something from mine if you would like. ” She heard from behind him and turning her head towards the voice she could see Mick getting ready just a few meters away from her. “ I have some team stuff too, if you need anything. ” He added, pointing at the suitcase that was still half full with black-red Haas branded shirts and sweaters. Y/N’s anxiety was quite visible on her face, and he knew wearing his shirts sometimes helped calm her down somehow.

“ Maybe. I don’t know… ” Y/N let out a sigh, debating if her wearing his things would bring positive or negative feedback. In the end she just took one of her favourite shirts of his, pushing every thought back as she pulled the material over her head, tucking it into her jeans a little. When she stepped out of the closet Mick was ready too, sitting on the bed and waiting for her. “ Ready! ” She added when he looked up at her and with a nod got up from the bed.

As it was a home GP for Mick they were able to stay in his home rather than a hotel room and start the day from there. It wasn’t a long drive from the apartment to the circuit, giving Y/N just around 20 minutes to prepare herself mentally for the day. Luckily it wasn’t her driving and she could just watch the trees and houses go by as they passed them on the way. She knew everything felt strange because it was just her first time attending a race, and that hopefully if there was going to be a next time, it would be a bit calmer. She didn’t know how people will act towards her, but after getting through the first meetings it will be easier to be around them. It was usually just the first impressions that made her so anxious.

“ They’re going to love you, don’t worry about it. ” They were just turning off the road towards the private parking lot of the circuit when Y/N started bouncing her knee a little bit and Mick could see it from the corner of his eye. “ I would be really surprised if there would be anyone who doesn’t like you by the end of the day. ” He chuckled, looking to his right when the car was parked and with one last squeeze to her hand, they both got out of the vehicle.

‘ Just don’t jinx it. ’ Y/N let out a sigh, taking her backpack out before stepping right next to Mick as she didn’t know where they had to go first. He shared the schedule with her, but it was a bit too much information all together, and she couldn’t really remember everything that was on the papers. Knowing that she will be either next to Mick or someone else from the team during the whole day was enough for her.

Getting to the entrance they both let themselves in with their passes, Y/N needing a bit of help from him initially, and as they were walking down the paddock Mick took her hand in his. Just seconds later she spotted a few photographers turning their way, but somehow she didn’t care about them. She never really cared about being photographed until it was done by official photographers and not just jealous fans or paparazzi on the streets. She wanted her private life out of the media, keeping all her social media pages private and only posting for her friends and family. Y/N did rarely appear on Mick’s posts or stories, but he was observant of her choices and made sure she was always okay with whatever he wanted to put out. This one time she was even looking forward to the photos taken of them, but would never admit it to anyone. She may have even smiled at a few of them when they passed their booth before entering the Haas hospitality.

“ Well, they probably already like you. Not all partners are that happy about them taking photos. ” Mick let her get through the door first, stepping next to her again inside. It wasn’t a huge building, but looking around quickly Y/N knew she would probably manage to get lost alone. “ If you need food or anything it’s there, and if you need quiet you can always just go to my room upstairs. ” He pointed in different directions, showing everything to her as they went to the stairs and up to the second level of the building.

“ I’m probably gonna stay mostly just out of the way. ” Y/N let out a sigh, following him inside the little room and just putting down her backpack on the sofa. “ Am I even allowed into the garage? Or is it just this building and the stands for guests? ” She asked, watching as he was already packing out a few things from his own bag.

“ Of course you’re allowed. Even if you weren’t I would get them to somehow let you in. It’s your choice if you would like to watch it from the garage or a stand seat. ” Mick shrugged a little, looking up at her with a smile on his face. For him it was still hard to believe that she actually came to the race and didn’t run away yet. “ I’m sure you won’t distract anyone. They’re gonna sit you down somewhere and just continue with their jobs. ” He added when Y/N still didn’t look convinced one bit, even though she knew Mick would never lie to her about anything.

“ I’ll probably just go there with you, watch the race itself from the stands, and then go back to the garage after the race. ” She decided a few minutes later when they were already leaving the building as he had to get some interviews out of the way before getting ready for the main event. She already knew his PR people as they did sometimes meet up with him on non race days too. “ Even at home I can’t stay put while you’re racing. I would just drive them round the bend, but you're the only one who should be driving today. ” Y/N let out a laugh at her own joke, seeing as Mick just shook his head.

When they got to the media pen she let go of his hand, letting him do his job and watching him talk to the reporters from the sidelines. She was too far away to hear any of it, but seeing the constant smile on his face showed Y/N that he was enjoying the questions. They could be a bit prying into his private life occasionally, but mostly they just stayed with the sport and only asked about his performance and opinion on the races. She really didn’t know how someone could enjoy people always questioning them, but she knew it was a part of Mick’s career and even if he didn’t want to do it sometimes, he had to. For her it was enough to just watch them and probably would have never chosen to do an interview if it wasn’t a must. She knew the drivers had media training, Mick probably a lot more thanks to his family, but she still couldn’t imagine how it felt doing this almost every week.

“ Less exciting bit of the day done. ” Mick came up behind her, his arms circling her waist as she turned around to take a few pictures of the sunny paddocks. It wasn’t the usual weather for the German GP, and it looked quite mesmerizing with the sun shining onto the circuit for once. “ Hopefully the weather can stay the same for the race. ” He added with a sigh but a grin got on his face when the camera was turned and Y/N took a selfie of them, almost immediately sending it to their two-family group chat.

“ I wouldn’t mind a bit of sunbathing either. ” She nodded, sliding her phone back into her pockets and turned towards Mick to hug him back. They had a bit of time before he had to get back to the team building and get on with the schedule. “ I’ll probably just catch up with your family while you have meetings, and then meet the team during lunch. If you have enough time of course. ” Y/N added, still looking up at him, remembering that his family is attending the race too. They couldn’t come to all of them, but as they were here already, it wasn’t difficult for them to stay a few days longer and watch the race.

“ We will probably. The race starts later anyway. ” Mick nodded, only letting go of her when they had to get going. Even then he held her hand, pulling Y/N closer when it got crowded around them, so he wouldn’t lose her among all the people. “ I’m gonna go and find you afterwards. Have fun. ” They shared a quick kiss as they arrived at the building and went their different ways. Mick inside for his meetings while Y/N tried to not get lost as she got to the part of the paddocks where Mick’s family sat down for a coffee.

Luckily a few minutes later she was already sitting next to Gina with a coffee in front of her, meaning she didn’t take a wrong turn anywhere. Thanks to Y/N studying away from Germany and Mick travelling around the world they don’t always get to talk in person. It was mostly just phone calls or FaceTime calls when she was with Mick. She sometimes talked to Gina as they weren’t too far apart in age and had a few interests in common, but not as much with Corinna, even though she felt like a second mother to her. She never thought her boyfriend’s family would become such a big part of her life. Actually, until Mick they never really mattered to her, but Corinna and Gina had such a positive attitude towards their relationship and her from the first second she was introduced to them, that they felt like a second family. If Mick’s friends were just a bit like his family she had nothing to fear.

“ Oh Corinna, didn’t know you guys are gonna be here. ” Looking to their right they saw Seb coming up to them, and greeting everyone with a quick hug before he turned to Y/N. “ And even bigger surprise. It’s great to see you here finally. ” He said with a grin, stepping back after their embrace so they all could see Lance coming up to them. Probably because of Seb and not them.

“ I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Y/N. ” She didn’t know where the courage came from to be so straight forward but hoped it won’t disappear in the next few minutes. She knew Seb pretty well already, as he was around Mick even on off days, and him being there helped her with opening up to Lance a bit.

“ I’m Lance and no, not yet. Although I’ve heard about you. ” Lance let out a little laugh while Y/N’s eyes went a bit wider than usual. “ Only good things. ” He added with a comforting smile, not wanting to scare her that she’s always a topic between them. She did remember a few occasions when Mick mentioned that he talks with Lance too, and not just Seb, but she never asked about the subject.

As they didn’t have to go anywhere, everyone decided that they would wait until Mick got to them. Since they arrived in the country they didn’t have more than a minute to sit still and talk with him, so they weren’t about to give up such a possibility. Y/N knew that Mick wouldn’t mind either, as he was always happy to catch up with friends, and after just a few minutes she didn’t mind either. Lance turned out to be a sweet person, just as Seb always was towards her and she actually was glad they met, and got to talk a little bit.

“ Are you usually travelling with him? ” Lance asked a bit later when they mentioned the next race and if she feels like attending again with all these new experiences.

“ Mostly just during the summer when uni is off my schedule. I usually just explored the cities while he raced. ” Y/N nodded a little, drinking the last bits of her coffee. “ Looks like I will watch the races instead of acting like a tourist. The timing is lucky, as I was about to run out of places to look at. ” She added with a smile, letting the waitress take away her empty cup.

“ Not many of us can get their partners to travel with them. He’s lucky with you in several ways. ” Lance let out a sigh, making Y/N blush and she was about to speak up when she felt two palms rest onto her shoulder.

“ I for sure am, even if I didn’t hear why. ” The owner of the hands spoke up, and a smile got on Y/N’s voice as she immediately recognized Mick’s voice, looking up at him for a second. “ Looks like you’re gonna meet everyone important on the first day. ” He glanced down at her before pulling a chair next to them so he could sit down too after greeting everyone.

“ I never feared your friends. The team is another different question. ” Y/N shook her head a little, looking at him for a bit too long before getting back to the conversation that got disrupted. They stayed right until lunchtime hit and they had to leave for their separate team building while Corinna and Gina went for a walk before the race.

The team members were intimidating at first as there were many of them and they were all curious about her, asking questions so they could get to know her. Luckily minutes after they sat down with their plates of food, everyone calmed down a little and they could finally find the common voice. In the end the meal was an experience that she could put onto the positive part of the list of the day. In the end she even found a few people to talk to while Mick was getting ready. She did go up to his drivers room a few minutes before they would leave, to have a few words with him before the race. He was already in his racing suit, although it was just halfway done, with the top half hanging down from his waist, and for a second Y/N forgot why she was there actually. Somehow the thin white material looked just as good on him as being shirtless did.

“ You’re off to the stands? ” Mick’s voice got her back from thoughts-land and she nodded as soon as her brain finally understood the question. “ We can meet here after the race if you want. They will let you guys in without any trouble. ” He offered, Y/N again just nodding as she didn’t trust her voice until he stepped back a little.

“ Yeah, that sounds good. ” She finally spoke up when Mick stepped back for one more thing and she felt like she could breathe again. “ Be careful. ” Y/N added, returning the quick kiss he initiated and it was a fight with herself to step back and leave the room. It was her first time she was here to witness moments like these, and Y/N couldn’t understand why she made the wait so long for herself.

From the moment she left the building everything happened as they discussed. She watched Mick race everyone and give his all from the stands, sitting next to Gina. They celebrated together with the crowd when the cars crossed the finish line for the last time and while he got the car back to the garage and parked it, they walked back down there. All three of them let the team congratulate him for a fantastic drive, before they stepped up to him one by one, Y/N closing the line. She didn’t really care as this way she could stay next to Mick from the moment he hugged her and didn’t have to step away until he went to change into normal clothing. In the end, even though they planned a private dinner, Y/N felt so secure with his team that they joined them in the hotel restaurant and celebrated the race together with everyone else working next to Mick and his teammate. However Y/N imagined this day would turn out, it exceeded all her expectations.

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher fanfiction #mick schumacher fanfic #mick schumacher ff #mick schumacher oneshot #mick schumacher imagine #f1 #formula #f1 fanfiction #f1 fanfic #f1 ff #f1 oneshot #f1 imagine #bydonaidk #requested #requested fanfiction #sebastian vettel #lance stroll #mentioned #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 ff #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 imagine #formula 1

[yikesharringrove]

Show Pony

Chapter 3: Roses Are Falling

Read on Ao3

-

Steve’s hand was sweaty in Billy’s as he pulled him through the crowds in the fairground, ducking and weaving between the people milling about. 

Billy let himself be dragged, staring at Steve’s ass in his little denim shorts. 

It had been one week since their date at the diner. 

A week of Billy showing up to the rodeo, watching Steve compete in his event, and making out with him behind the arena. 

It was fun, sneaking around together in the blazing summer heat. 

He had even brought Max a few times, letting her wander around with some chick her own age she met. Apparently, her dad works at the rodeo or someshit. Billy wasn’t listening when she explained. Steve had been across the arena, taking off his flannel shirt and trading it for another one of his slutty little crop tops. 

It was a gorgeous show. 

But Max was somewhere eating her body weight in funnel cake while Steve took him into a tent labeled Employees Only. 

There was an eclectic group of people sitting at the long tables in the tent, all greeting Steve as he pulled Billy through to a group of younger people sitting together at the end of one of the tables. 

Steve pushed Billy onto one of the benches, perching right on his lap like that was totally fine. Like it was easy for Billy to just. Keep his dick in check. 

The girl sitting across from them sighed heavily, raising one eyebrow at Steve. 

“Shut up, Robin.”

“I didn’t say anything,” she was still giving Steve a very pointed look. 

“You don’t have to.” Steve slumped back against Billy’s chest, no doubt petulant. 

She shook her head, finally addressing Billy. 

“I’m Robin.”

“She does barrel racing,” Steve leaned back, muttering the information into Billy’s ear. His breath was hot against Billy’s skin, and Billy had to fight down a shiver that crept up his spine despite the blazing heat.

Another girl was sitting next to Robin, a pretty brunette with doe eyes to rival Steve’s. She seemed vaguely familiar. 

And then it clicked. 

“Aren’t you in the pageants?”

She laughed softly.

“My name’s Heather. And yes, I’m reigning Miss Rodeo USA, so I’ve been with these guys and will be until the next girl is crowned. It’s been a good time.” She glanced over at Robin, bumping their shoulders together. Billy raised one eyebrow at Robin, catching her eye and making her flush slightly. He shot her a quick wink. 

Steve shifted in his lap, putting one arm over Billy’s shoulders, winding his fingers through his little ponytail. 

“So, Billy,” Robin tried to move the conversation along, rolling her shoulders back. “We’ve heard a lot about you.” 

“All bad, I hope.” 

“Nah, just, I feel like I know you quite well know. Like, really well. Like better than I ever wanted to know a guy-”

“Okay, yeah, Robin. We get it. Thanks.” Steve squirmed slightly in Billy’s lap, the back of his neck and the tips of his ears a bright red color. It was cute. Billy didn’t realize when Steve’s cheeks went all pink, that, other, places of him flushed too. He wondered how far down that rosy tint on Steve’s cheeks went. If it was all over his chest, if it leads down to his-

Nope. Not going there right now. Not when Steve is sitting on Billy’s lap, and they’re in fucking public. Absolutely not. No thanks. Billy’s fine. 

Robin squinted at him, and he tried to keep his face as blank as possible. 

Steve sighed heavily through his nose, shaking his head. 

“I’m getting a pop. Anyone else?”

Robin waved him off, and he was gone with a roll of his eyes. 

“So, you’re the poor San Diego bastard. My condolences.”

Billy squinted at her. 

“Not sure what you mean.” 

She took a deep breath, looking at Heather briefly. 

“Look. You know this little fling is just that. A little fling. Steve, he kinda, does this. Finds someone in every place we’re stationed, and has a month-long something with them. He loves attention but he’s too scared of commitment to do anything else. And honestly, I’m saying this all for your sake, because I’ve seen people get attached. He’s gonna eat you alive, and then he’s gonna leave, and it’s easier for you if you know that going in.”

Robin’s words settled like a fucking pit in Billy’s stomach. 

Because, yeah. He, like, kinda figured that. He knew their time was limited. Knew that Steve would slip through his fingers. And really, that was fine. Billy thinks he’d be the exact same way if the roles were reversed, that he would be constantly moving from one person to the next, never getting lonely, but never getting deep, either. 

He understands the whole commitment-phobe thing. Kinda takes one to know one. 

So he gets it. 

Doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel like shit to have it put. So plainly.

“I’m sorry. That was probably too harsh but, you seem like a nice guy, and Steve doesn’t mean anything by it. He’s not trying to hurt people, he just, definitely uses the whole traveling rodeo thing to his advantage.”

“Nah, I get it. Really, I kinda figured it out. He said he likes to make friends wherever they are. So, it’s fine. And I think sometimes harsh can be alright.” He doesn’t wanna make Steve’s friend feel bad. 

And really, he did know what they were doing and what this was about. It just sucks having it confirmed by someone else. And put. So plainly. 

“I’m really not trying to be mean. I just kinda wanted to prepare you. If this is gonna be something that hurts, maybe it’s best to get out now.” Robin had very pretty blue eyes and freckles all over her face. She seemed warm, and the way she was staring at him was with so much concern. 

“Thank you. I get it, honest. I’d probably act just the same if I were him.”

“If you were who?” Steve had returned, slapping a can of root beer on the table in front of them, taking a seat pressed as close as possible to Billy, lifting up his arm to slide underneath it. 

“Quit being nosy.” Robin reached out to muss up Steve’s hair, poking him in the forehead. “What are you two doing today?”

Steve shrugged, taking the bait and moving on. 

“Wander the grounds. Maybe hang out at my place.” Billy’s interest piqued. He had no idea Steve had a place. “Might sneak out and go for a drive or something. You got any preference?” Steve leaned over the table, resting his elbows on top, placing his face in his hands, turning to look at Billy. 

“We could kick around here. I gotta drive Max home later so we should probably stick around.” Steve grinned at him. 

“Well, c’mon then. You’ve got plenty to see around here.”

Billy felt like Steve has already dragged through the entire grounds, he doesn’t know how there’s more to see. 

But it turned out there’s a lot more. Because Steve’s place, as it turns out, is one in a huge crowd of trailers. 

It was kinda out of Billy’s wildest imagination. Like what he’d picture an old-school traveling circus to be like. 

People were milling around everywhere, Steve saying hi to almost everyone they passed. Animals were being led to and from the large arena and the makeshift paddocks that were set up in the open grass. 

It was like nowhere Billy’s ever been before. 

Steve led him through the maze of trailers to a smaller version of an old school Airstream near the back of the lot, still hitched up to the back of a much larger, and very nice-looking, RV. 

Stevie Harrington was painted in curling dark green letters on the rounded metal door, a little cow munching on some grass painted below it.

“That your art?”

Steve snorted.

“ God, no. Robin did it for me a few years ago. That’s why it looks good.”

The hinges on the door squealed when he pulled it open and led Billy inside. 

It was hot in the airstream, and Steve turned on the solar power to get a small fan moving air through the place, propping open the door and the tiny window above the table.

“Home sweet traveling home.”

“Damn. This ain’t too bad of a setup.”

It really wasn’t. Sure, it was small, but it was perfect for one person. A tiny kitchenette faced the minuscule bathroom. The far sides of the trailer were taken up by a dining area, a table with booth-like seating, and a queen-sized bed taking up the opposite side, a small closet smushed between the bed and the kitchen.  

It was immaculately clean, not totally what Billy had expected from Steve. The bed was made, an old-looking, worn-out stuffed horse placed neatly in front of the pillows. 

There were pictures pinned up on little string light clothespins on the wall the bed was shoved against, and Steve even had a few posters over the booth seats. 

“It’s kinda nice. I saved up for a while to buy it. It’s kind of a lot being trapped in an RV with your parents, let me tell you. I’m still hooked up to theirs, and when we move I ride with them, usually, but at least I’ve got some space to myself.” Steve looked down at his feet. “Plus, I kinda figured, this is about as close as I’ll ever come to living on my own.”

“I really do like it. You’ve made it real nice in here.”

Steve looked back up to him, smiling proudly. 

“We don’t have to like, hang out in here. I just thought I’d welcome you in. To like, say, you know, if you’re ever around but don’t wanna hang out doing the same rodeo shit all the time, we could, like, spend some time in here.” Steve’s cheeks were going red. 

And Billy was fairly certain he knew where this was going. 

So he took the metaphorical bull by the horns, and wrapped his fingers in Steve’s literal belt loops, and pulled him close enough that their lips could touch. 

And apparently, Billy was right. Because Steve kissed him back immediately, and fervently, sliding his arms over Billy’s shoulders and pressing into him enough to move Billy back a few steps until his knees hit the bed, and he fell to sit on it. 

Steve wasted no time climbing on his lap, kneeling straddling Billy, pressed together as close as possible. 

Steve broke the kiss, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily and Billy attached himself to Steve’s neck, leaving wet kisses in his path down the long column of his throat. 

“God, fuck. Can we-”

“ Yeah. Yeah, Baby,” Billy was breathless as he replied, getting both hands under Steve’s ass and flipping their position in one fluid motion, getting Steve on his back, his legs wrapped around Billy’s waist. 

“Get the door.”

Billy pressed a long sucking kiss to Steve’s neck before pulling away, slamming the door closed as Steve drew the blinds on the window above the bed and turned on the air conditioning unit in the ceiling.

“It’s gonna get super fucking hot in here if we fuck.”

“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

Steve laughed at Billy, rolling back to lay properly on the bed, taking his stuffed horse and tossing it on the table behind Billy. 

“I don’t want her to have to see this.”

“Fine by me.” Billy was back on him in a second, pushing his hands up Steve’s shirt, yanking it off him as fast as possible. 

Steve was so fucking gorgeous. 

He had a light tan all over his body, with definite paler parts where his shirts usually sit. 

And he was fit. His muscles weren’t as bulky as Billy’s, but he was obviously strong. 

Billy leaned over him, tasting the salt on his skin as Steve began fumbling with the buttons of Billy’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders so roughly one of the shoulder seams groaned, threatening to rip. 

Billy took that as his cue to pull away from Steve again, shedding his shirt and kicking off his shoes, helping Steve out of his little short shorts. 

He was wearing this excellent pair of boots, deep red with white embroidered stitching covering the boot. 

Steve leaned forward, moving to pull off the boots.

“Wait, no. Leave ‘em on.”

Steve looked at him.

“You call me a hick all the fuckin’ time, and now you’re here saying you wanna fuck me in my boots.”

“It’s hot. You’re like the chick from Footloose .”

“Aren’t you gay?”

“Hot is hot, Steve.” 

Steve huffed a laugh, putting his leg back down, letting Billy settle between both of them. 

“So, are we gonna talk about the girl in an eighties movie, or are you going to fuck me through this mattress?”

“Alright, bossy. You got lube?”

Steve huffed, poking Billy’s chest until he moved off him. 

Steve sat up, crawling to the end of the bed, digging through the laundry in the hamper for the bottle of lube. 

Billy stared at him. 

Mostly, he was just staring at his asshole. It was so perfect and pink, and looked buttery and soft. 

And Jesus, he really just wanted to lick it, to get his face buried between Steve’s cheeks and go to town on the pretty pink furl of muscle. 

And, well, what’s stopping him? 

Absolutely nothing.

He got up, following Steve’s path until he was behind him, taking each cheek in one hand. 

Steve froze where he was digging through the laundry, Billy’s breath puffing between his cheeks. 

“What are you-” 

And then Billy licked up his crack, his tongue dragging all the way up from his balls, flicking once against his hole. 

“ Billy .” Steve spread his legs, pushing his hips back into Billy’s face, wordlessly asking for more. 

So Billy gave it to him. 

He opened his mouth, licking all around his rim, pressing his tongue just slightly inside, sucking on the soft pink flesh, making Steve’s breath hitch and whines pour out of his mouth. 

“Fuck, you’re good at that.”

Billy responded by pulling back, and spitting on Steve’s hole. 

Steve was taken by surprise, if his soft gasp was anything to go by. He dropped his head against the bed, biting onto the blanket. 

Billy just kept going, using his lips and tongue and teeth, opening him up and getting him wet. 

“Fuck, Billy, please just fuck me. I want you so bad .” Steve’s voice was pitchy and breathy, muffled in the blanket. 

He was grinding his hips forward and back, pressing himself against Billy’s tongue. 

Like he wanted nothing more than he wanted Billy’s tongue in his ass right then. 

And Billy certainly wasn’t complaining, not at how fucking nice and soft his asshole was against his tongue, how he tasted kinda clean and kinda musky at the same time. It was heady and Billy would happily spend the rest of his stupid life with his face buried between Steve’s cheeks. 

Something smacked against the top of Billy’s head, and he pulled away briefly to find a bottle of lube on the bed, the one that Steve had no doubt tossed over his shoulder and accidentally accosted Billy with. 

“That fuckin’ hit me in the head, you piece a’ shit.”

“I don’t care,” Steve whined, pushing his hips back even further, spreading himself out more and more for Billy to hungrily take in. “Just finger me and fuck me !”

“Bossy.”

Steve huffed, shifting his head around until he could look back at Billy, his brows pinched in a little scowl, giving Billy a dirty look that was equal parts adorable pout and sexy scowl. He looked like the grumpiest little slut. 

And Billy indulged him, squeezing out a big glob of lube, meticulously coating his first two fingers with it. 

“I know what I like, and I get what I like.”

“Jesus, I thought all them girls were the rodeo queens. Not you .”

“I’m the queen of getting my fucking way. Now for the love of God, put your fingers in me.”

And Billy couldn’t do anything but indulge him. 

He began with just one finger, sliding it slowly and deliberately down to the last knuckle. 

Steve sighed as Billy’s finger entered him, relaxing his upper body into the bed, somehow canting his hips up even more, his back arched as much as Billy’s ever fuckin’ seen. 

So Billy took a chance, pumping his finger in and out a few times, pulling it nearly all the way out, only to replace it with both fingers. He moved slowly, simply fucking Steve with his fingers for a moment, watching Steve as he crooked his fingers downward. 

And Steve moaned, and it was like he became a puddle. All his muscles relaxing and unwinding as Billy curled his fingers, pressing deeply against his prostate, rubbing tiny circles into the small bundle of nerves. 

“God, Bill. That feels so fucking good,” Steve said through a throaty moan. Billy was slowly moving his fingers in and out of Steve, pressing down into that wonderful spot each time he was buried all the way to the knuckle. “Add another. Please, I want you in me.”

Billy had to palm himself to relieve some of the pressure of his own dick, flushed red and oh so painful where it was hard against his stomach. 

But he did as Steve told him to do, drawing out his two fingers to press in a third. 

There was something of a shift in the sticky airstream. As those three thick fingers sank into Steve, it was as though both boys agreed to move faster. Steve began pushing his hips back and forth, fucking himself on Billy’s fingers, matching the steady pace Billy had set with his hand. 

Billy was tugging his fingers in and out, pushing into Steve’s prostate with each movement, the lube creating a squelching noise as they picked up the pace. 

And finally, Steve had enough. 

He moved his hips forward, sitting back on his heels to look at Billy over his shoulder. 

His face was flushed, his bangs sticking to his forehead with sweat, his pupils blown wide, making his already dark eyes seem nearly black. He tossed Billy a condom, and Billy caught it against his heaving chest. 

Steve’s breath caught as Billy ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, looking like some kinda fuckin’ animal, rolling it onto himself with a practiced hand.

“Billy, I fucking want you-”

Billy cut him off by pressing himself against Steve’s back, kissing him harshly as he felt him up, his hands roving, touching every bit of Steve he could possibly manage. 

Steve had his own mission, reaching awkwardly behind him to take Billy’s stiff cock in hand, fumbling slightly as he lined up the flushed head of his dick with his slicked-up hole, teasing himself before urging Billy to push on in. 

Their lips lost touch from one another the second Billy began moving his hips forward, their moans mingling in the space between them. 

“God, fuck, Stevie.” Billy could hardly control himself. He so wanted to let loose, start fucking wildly into the tight heat of Steve’s body, take him as hard and fast as possible. 

He let his hands drop down and settle on Steve’s hips. He could feel the firm muscles tensing under his hands, like Steve was barely keeping himself from rocking back to fuck himself harder and faster on Billy’s cock. 

And that’s what pushed Billy over the edge. 

He pushed Steve forward until he was back in position, face down, ass up. His hands gripped Steve’s hips hard enough to leave bruises, and Jesus, Billy hoped to fucking God Steve had dark marks in the shape of Billy’s fingers for days and days. And he let himself go for it. 

Steve was making these breathy, punched-out noises, like with every harsh thrust of Billy’s hips, all the air in his lungs was being forced right out of him. 

Billy was slamming them together, pulling Steve’s hips back as he surged his own forward, pulling out almost entirely each time. He was relentless, taking Steve like a goddamn animal right there on the once neat bed. 

Neither of them was going to last long, they both knew it. 

Billy had taken so much time opening Steve up with his lips and tongue and fingers, Steve wouldn’t even be shocked if he came completely untouched, falling apart with only the attentions Billy has granted to his hole. 

Until Billy reached around him with his left hand, still gripping Steve’s body with his right. 

He took hold of Steve’s leaking cock, brushing his thumb over the slit to collect some of the glistening precum, drawing his hand tightly down the shaft, moving at an agonizingly slow pace compared to the buck of his hips, keeping Steve on the edge of something, making everything way too much and definitely not enough. 

And there was nothing Steve could do. 

He felt fucking helpless as Billy pounded him. It was taking all his energy not to just melt into the mattress at this point and let Billy have his way with him. 

But Billy was getting close, too close to keep this game up for much longer. 

He sped up the movement of his hand, his fist beginning to pump faster and faster over Steve’s aching cock. He wanted him to finish first, wanted to watch as Steve writhed and moaned about. 

It didn’t take long. Less than a minute of Billy jerking Steve as quick and rough as he was fucking him, and Steve was spilling out onto the blanket below him, nearly yelling out while his hips convulsed and his fingers twisted until he had a white knuckle grip on the blanket. 

Billy could only just hang on, fuck and jerk Steve through it, only letting his grip on his cock go a little slack when Steve finally relaxed a bit below him. 

Billy pulled out, snapping off the condom and taking his dick in hand, finishing himself off all over Steve’s lower back, watching his thick cum drip down the slope of his ass. 

“ Fuck. You’re so hot,” Billy said, totally in awe. Steve was even hotter than normal wearing nothing but his bright red boots and Billy’s spunk. 

Billy took a cloth from the tiny bathroom, getting it a little wet to wipe the cum off of Steve as he lay stretched like a cat on the small bed. 

“Thank God I don’t have to ride tomorrow, I don’t think I’ll be able to sit, let alone get in a saddle.” He threw a wink over his shoulder at Billy, bending his knees to let his feet kick up behind him, crossing his ankles in the red boots. 

“We should make the best of our good fortune, then. I’ve got a few more rounds in me.”

“Billy Hargrove, you fuckin’ devil .”

#yikes writes #show pony #lemons #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #rodeo au

[studentville-struggles]

A Double Life

Chapter 4!

A self-indulgent Daniel Ricciardo fic.

Summary: Returning to old passions results in the start of chaos and living a double life. We say we hate chaos, but the thrill is unlike anything else.

Words: 1,709

Masterlist // Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

You may have been young but that did not mean a FIA gala wouldn’t result in a two day hangover. God bless past Rachel for booking the day after off. You couldn't actually communicate appropriately just how crap you were feeling and your film crew were loving it. They may not have been able to go into the gala with you but they did get to do a good before and after comparison. Unfortunately for you, you had to return to the lab on the second day of your hangover and your office mates were oh so giddy at calling out how deathly you looked.  

Despite the severity of your hangover, you could remember a surprising amount of the night. Although, you did wake up with a mysterious number texting you and didn’t remember giving it away so that might have been a lie.  

You remembered dancing with teammates new an old. You remembered collecting your award. You remember telling Lewis, Daniel looked fit as fuck. Oh shit. Damn that free wine. You remembered Lewis dragging you over to chat to Daniel and Max, disappearing as soon as you were chatting.  

You remembered rolling your eyes at something Daniel said, you remembered him taking your hand to twirl you around in your dress, complimenting the style. You remembered laughing. You remembered thinking he wasn’t a dick. You remembered him walking you to your taxi. You weren’t sure, however, how accurate your memory was of the feeling of his lips on your cheek as he said goodnight.  

What the hell happened and where the fuck was Lewis.  

Other than the whole Daniel fiasco, the night had been possibly the best of your life. Your friends in F2 were buzzing with team mix ups and a couple of you progressing up. The people you knew in F1 were lovely and very complimentary of your season. So many people were congratulating you on your new contract that you could barely stop smiling from thinking of the season to come.  

Dancing for hours on end, everyone seemed to be happy. The feeling of being overwhelmingly happy, nothing but joy and laughter, was one would could never forget.

However, despite the remaining headache to remind you of the night, you were back in reality, roasting in your lab. Happy with the explanation that you'd ‘had a big night’, your lab-mates were happy to joke and poke fun at your mis-fortune. With your office being on the 9th floor, and your lab on the 11th, it was always on the warmer side of things. You could definitely testify that a loud, warm environment was not where you wanted to be when you were hungover.

A couple of weeks after the gala you were fully into your newest off-season training programme, but with all the other drivers not having the limitations of a second job, they were feeling far more social than usual. There were more texts, more twitch streams, more fun. You were, however, in your final year of your PhD, drowning in lab work and data that needed analysing. You didn’t know if you could handle any more stress and yet life was continuously saying ‘lol sure’.  

Seeing the lighter side of your friends in the driving world was nice. You couldn’t wait to have that freedom after your PhD. You loved it, you truly did. You loved science; you loved the methodical nature of it, you loved the sample preparation – no matter how much you complained about do it. It was wonderful, but you knew your heart was truly in driving and you couldn’t keep up doing both. It was slowly taking its toll, you knew that. Burn out was inevitable really.

One more year. You just had to do one more year, and a little more because let's face it you were going to run over time on this... you worked three days a week instead of five or seven.  

Lewis was becoming an evermore important person to lean on and learn from. The odd weekend you spend with him when he was on his uncle duties brought you so much joy and reminded you of the need to spend time with family and friends and keep a social life.  

Sitting down with Lewis, one of the rarer times you allowed your mentor times to be filmed, you sunk down into the sofa and got comfy. You may have been in a reality show but the illusion that every waking moment is filmed, is in some cases, well an illusion. You hadn’t planned anything for this meeting so you had assumed this would be a more personal one. Though you couldn’t quite have imagined just how personal.  

“Heard you had a rough couple of days after the gala” You scowled at him

“You would know, you facetimed me every other hour to laugh at me.”  

Lewis had found your exceptional hangover hilarious. You did not appreciate that. Although now you were no longer hungover you could definitely see the funny side of things.  

The two of you sat and discussed your various plans for the off season; what family time you had planned and when you were hoping to go travelling and where. With the first race of the year being in Australia, you couldn’t wait to get out there and explore, as well as acclimatising as much as possible to give yourself the best possible start.

Somewhere deep in the back of your mind was a niggling thought, a small suggestion of ‘what if you bumped into Daniel when you were out there?’. You pushed that right back down as soon as it reared its head. There was no way you’d bump into anyway – Australlia is bloody massive! Also why Daniel? Ricciardo and yourself had only spoken a handful of times since the gala, although to conceded he was only a little bit of an arse now.  

Almost as if he could read your mind, Lewis dived right into the ‘any boys’ line of questioning.  

“I don’t exactly have time for a relationship right now; between the training, race prep and all my lab work I have to catch up on” You explained, a small amount of panic starting to rise as you began remembering all the work you have planned, papers your supervisor wants written.

As Lewis began shaking his head at you, a notification popped up on your phone.

“Heard you’re heading to Oz early.” Dan’s message caught you off guard. You’d only very loosely planned things with your family about travelling out. Although almost as soon as you’d finished reading a strange warm feeling was making itself known, a little lopsided smile gracing your cheeks.  

“What’s got you grinning like a school girl?” Lewis asked, leaning over to try and get a glimpse of your screen.  

“Nothing!” You locked your phone and tucked it under your legs, a guilty grin now facing Lewis.

Perhaps you wouldn’t have to bump into him after all.  

You didn’t know what was going through your head but you didn’t like it. You couldn’t be getting warm non usual feelings for anyone that was a competitor. Friendships were good, we liked those, until you sort through weird drunk gala memories, you were not okay with the weirdness stirring within.

After heading home a couple of hours later, you lay in the darkness of your room, tucked under the safety of your sheets, finding yourself texting back the one person who might cause you trouble this next year.  

Arguably the most intense and important year of your life, and what were you doing? Adding to the chaos.  

You did say you lived for the drama. All you would have to do is wait for the end of the off-season and see what Australia would bring for you.  

Australia brought a lot. Mostly heat, but a lot of other stuff too.

Australia was a stunning country, and having a local tour guide definitely helped. You knew how important family time was for Daniel when it was off-season, it was the worst kept season in F1. He very graciously offered to be your tour guide for the couple of days that you were spending exploring Perth.  

He took you around the local spots; the best shopping, the best food, the best bars and the best beaches. You couldn’t deny that there was a definite friendship blossoming between the two of you. Things just seemed to click, it was easy now.

Getting back into the paddock was a feeling you could never describe. It was relief, excitement, joy, nerves, it was a mix of everything. It was like a switch was flipped in your mind. You could feel the buzz of being back in the car again rushing through your veins.  

Although first; media.  

Being your rookie season, there was a lot of attention on you and what you could produce. A lot of people were excited by your arrival back on the racing scene. Some were pissed beyond belief. Some hated the fact you were a woman in F1; how dare you take a man's seat in this sport. It was safe to say a lot of people were expecting, if not hoping, you would fail and fail fast.  

Thankfully a good majority of the fans you met were lovely and put a huge grin on your face. Cheeks almost hurting from all the smiling you were doing.  

your favourite interview was with Sky Sports F1, a bit more informal as you were wandering around the paddock towards the end of thursday. It was just fun. They chatted about your comeback, how you seemed to be dominating everything you tried; they chatted about your budding friendship with Max and Lando on twitch; the importance of having a mentor like Lewis. It was everything you wanted in an interview. The last question you found the best.

“How are you finding the new media world and increased interviews. Does it feel weird having all the cameras around now?” You couldn’t help but smile. You turned ever so slightly and pointed off to the side where you could see some of your production team for the tv show.

“My life is already filmed 24/7; I am very used to it.”

#studentville struggles #rachel tries to write #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 fics #f1 fic #danny ric #in love with danny ric

[katedoesfics]

Shadows of the Future | Chapter 3

They eventually made it to the city where Rusl knew the king and queen lived. As Cado said, there were many more Hylians than he had ever seen in one place. He followed closely behind Cado as the Sheikah lead him through the city on foot until he found himself at an old shrine on a hill. There, he met the old leader of the Sheikah, Impa.

She looked at him curiously for a moment, then offered him a smile.

“Well, Rusl. I’m glad to be able to meet you.”

Rusl frowned up at her. “Why?”

“Oh, well,” Impa started. “I’ve just heard so much about you. And I’m glad you’re here safe.”

Rusl shrugged a shoulder. “I guess.”

“We’re going to put you in a good home,” she said in an attempt to reassure him. “There are other kids there, a couple around your age. You’ll meet Telma tomorrow. How does that sound?”

“Whatever.”

Impa’s lips pinched together. She sneered up at Cado. “He’s lovely.”

Cado grinned. “I’m sure it only gets better.”

“Lady Hylia,” Impa started. “You better give me someone useful out of this!”

“I’m sure he’ll be completely adequate.”

“I’m going to get the laziest hero yet.”

Rusl looked between the two Sheikah. He met Cado’s gaze, but Cado offered him no explanation.

As promised, the next morning, Rusl was whisked away once more, this time by a Sheikah woman, leaving Cado and Impa behind in the city. The woman offered no conversation, which relieved Rusl, as he did not want to have to answer more questions for more adults. Within the hour, they had pulled up to a large farmhouse set on an open ranch. He looked out the window as a woman came out of the house. She was plump and dark skinned, and though her features seemed hard, her eyes were kind and hopeful as the woman stepped out of the car.

Rusl jumped out of the back seat of the car. He looked up at the woman that waited for him, a smile on her face, and he scowled at her. She put her hands on her legs as she bent down to greet him, and smiled.

“Hey there, Rusl,” she said. “I’m Telma. How old are you?”

His first instinct was to make a rude comment, but feeling the glare of the woman beside him, he chose to bite his tongue. “Ten,” he muttered.

Telma hesitated as she looked him over, then straightened. “Alright, Rusl. Do you like animals? I’ve got tons.”

Rusl only shrugged.

“Why don’t you head to the barn there?” She pointed toward the building. “Check ‘em out for a little bit.”

Rusl kicked at a small rock. “K.”

Telma watched the boy disappear into the barn, then turned her attention to the woman in front of her. Her gaze narrowed. She knew all the social workers, but did not recognize this one.

“Who are you?”

The woman smiled. “Impa sent me,” she said simply.

Telma’s eyes widened. “So,” she started. Her gaze moved back to the barn. “That’s him?”

The woman nodded. She handed Telma a manilla folder, and Telma skimmed through its contents. “It took a long time for us to get him, but Impa said she didn’t want him in the care of anyone else.”

“So, what’s his story?”

“He’s been bounced around in foster care for a while,” she explained. “Parents have been in and out of jail most of his life. They both when in about two years ago, likely for the next five to ten years.”

“Yeah, I know,” Telma said with slight annoyance. “You know what I want to know.”

“It started almost a year ago,” she said. “He was sent to a therapist when he apparently started having nightmares. He started to get violent, and they tried to diagnose him with anything they could. He eventually took off. Ended up somewhere in Eldin, at the edge of Hyrule, where he killed two men.”

“ Killed? ”

“We’re certain it was out of self defense,” she said. “Hylian magic. I don’t think he knows about it, or has control over it.”

Telma frowned, and the social worker continued.

“Foster parents wanted nothing to do with him. Impa got word and had been trying to hunt him down ever since. When the Sheikah found him, he was a runaway. Pretty badly beaten.”

Telma’s stomach knotted. “Fools,” she spat. “No child should be treated that way.”

“Well, he’s here, now. Impa would have him no where else.”

“So, it’s true then,” Telma said. She looked after him toward the barn. “His son will be the Chosen Hero.”

After exchanging pleasantries with the woman, the Sheikah left the ranch, and Telma made her way into the barn. She found Rusl inside, standing on top of a hay bale that he had dragged in front of a stall door. He was peering inside at the baby goats that had gathered around the door to regard him with curiosity. She cleared her throat, and Rusl turned toward her. After a moment, he hopped off the hay bale, but made no motion to move closer to her.

Telma put her hands on her hips. “So, what do you think?”

Rusl shrugged. He had his hands in his pockets and he was kicking at a stray piece of hay.

“Did you see all the animals?”

Rusl nodded.

“What’s your favorite?”

He averted his gaze, suddenly turning very shy. He pointed sheepishly toward the horses in their paddock, and Telma smiled.

“You like the horses, huh? Why?”

Rusl shrugged again. “I dunno. They’re big and scary.”

“Are you afraid of them?”

“No!”

Telma laughed. “Well, would you like to go over and pat them?”

He shook his head quickly.

“That’s alright,” she said. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Rusl met her gaze, then took a moment to study her. “You look like me.”

Telma looked at him, puzzled for a moment, then in realization, her hands moved to her ears. “Oh! Yes, yes I do.”

Rusl’s brows furrowed. Though Cado said he would be safe there, he still felt a sense of unease. “That means you’re bad.”

Telma frowned. “Why am I bad?”

He shrugged.

“Do you think I’m bad?”

“I dunno.”

“Then why do you say I’m bad?”

“Because.” His forehead creased deeply. “You’re like me, and I’m bad.”

Her brows knit together. “Why are you bad?”

He shrugged again.

“Did you do something bad?”

He met her gaze, his eyes sad. “Yes.”

“Was it an accident?”

His lip began to tremble. “Yes.”

“Then I guess you aren’t bad, then, right?”

Rusl gave no response. He stared at his feet.

“I know bad things have happened to you, Hunnie. But I promise you, those bad things won’t happen to you here. I will protect you. Because me and you, we’re the same, right?”

Rusl met her gaze.

“Do you believe me?”

He paused for a moment, then nodded.

Telma smiled. “Good. I think we’ll make a good team.”

“Why does everyone think we’re bad?” he asked.

“Well,” Telma said softly. “I guess probably because we are so different. People don’t understand us and why we’re different, and sometimes, that makes them afraid. And when people are afraid, well, sometimes they do stupid things to try to make themselves feel better. It doesn’t make it right.”

Rusl nodded, as if he understood. “I was afraid,” he said. “And mad. And I accidentally hurt people.” His eyes started to water. “But I didn’t mean to,” he said, choking up. He met Telma’s gaze. “Is that why I’m bad?”

“Oh, Hunnie.” Her heart broke for the child standing alone before her. She got to her knees and pulled him into a tight hug. “No, no, Hunnie. You’re not bad at all. It was an accident. Accidents happen all the time.”

“I don’t want it to happen again,” he sobbed.

“Are you afraid it will?”

He nodded against her.

Telma pushed him away, keeping her hands on his shoulders, and met his gaze. “We’ll work on it together,” she said. She didn’t believe he would be able to use that power again, but she didn’t want to dismiss his fears. “We’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again. Okay? I’m on your side, now, Rus. I won’t let anything happen to you. I make that promise to you.”

Rusl wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded.

“Good.” She got back to her feet. “Now. How about we go see your room?”

Rusl’s eyes lit up. “I get a room?”

“Well, of course. Haven’t you had a room before?”

He shrugged. “No. Not really. I mostly shared rooms.”

“Well, this one is all yours,” she said with a grin. “No sharing.”

Rusl followed Telma out of the barn. She spoke as they walked toward the house, explaining to him that he would have to help out with chores around the ranch. But Rusl wasn’t really listening. He was looking over his shoulder at the horses grazing in the paddock, and he smiled.

#sotf #shadows of the future #loz #botw #legend of zelda #breath of the wild #fic #fanfic #sotf3

[missnmikaelson-main]

The Mummy - The Nile

I do not TVD or TO or The Mummy

The only sound over the gentle rowing of the oars was the sharp ring of the whetstone over the curved blade. He looked up from the gleaming weapon towards the passenger barge a few miles ahead of them on the Nile.

The lantern lights glittered in the warm night. It would be a good hour at least before they reached the larger boat.

Nik tried not to laugh when he found Kol at a table playing a game of poker with a rather rowdy group of Americans. He shouldered his bag and strode forward with the intention of passing them by.

“Pull up a chair, O’Connell, take a seat,” Kol smiled up at him. “We could use another player.”

“No thanks,” Nik shook his head and clapped Kol on the shoulder, “I only gamble with my life; never my money.”

“Never,” Kai cocked an eyebrow, “what if were to wager five hundred dollars that says we get to Hamunaptra before you?”

Nik’s smile dropped slightly. It wasn’t uncommon to find parties in search of the lost city, but it was rare to find someone with such confidence in their endeavor.

“You’re on,” Nik’s smile was cocky. He doubted he’d ever see this man again; everyone always seemed to parish in the desert.

“What makes you so confident?” Damon tilted his head.

“What makes you?” Nik countered.

“We got us a man that’s actually been there,” Lucien smirked around the rim of his glass.

Nik’s poker face dropped at the news; nobody else had survived… right?

++++

Elena’s elbow was propped on the table. She held her chin in her hands and stared out at the passing river over the rail of the ship. There was something undeniably calming about the lapping waves; they were lulling her into a state of peaceful oblivion.

She jumped when the table shifted after a loud thump. Her hand moved from her chin to cover her pounding heart.

“Sorry,” Nik’s brows rose as he smiled, “I did not intend to scare you.”

Elena caught her breath and inhaled slowly. “The only thing that frightens me is your manners, Mr. O’Connell.”

“Still angry that I kissed you?” Nik cocked an eyebrow and pulled the ties on the bag. He sat across from her at the table.

“If you call that a kiss,” Elena breathed. “I suppose I do owe you a thank you though.”

“Was that it?” He smirked and reached into the bag.

“Technically I could have handled it,” she crossed her arms.

“You’ve proven capable of handling many things,” he nodded. “I’m the one that owes you a thank you. Without you and your brother I’d be dead right now; at the end of a hangman’s noose.”

“Was that your thank you?” She tilted her head. Her eyes widened when he pulled a plethora of weapons from the bag: revolvers, pistols, knives, an elephant gun and half a dozen carefully wrapped sticks of dynamite. “Are we going into battle?” Elena picked up a stick of dynamite and watched through her lashes as he began cleaning some of the guns.

“Last time I was out there everybody died,” Nik checked the mechanism of one of the guns and wiped out some lingering sand. He saw the smile fall from her face as he cleaned the guns. “There’s something out there, you know, under the sand.”

“Yes,” Elena cleared her throat and lowered the explosive back onto the table. “I’m hoping to find an artifact, a book,” she clarified when he looked up. “Kol thinks there’s some of the most significant finds out there.” She leaned her elbows on the table and watched him. “What do you think is out there?”

Nik sighed and dropped the cleaned weapons in his bag again before mirroring her motion. “Evil,” he met her sceptical eyes. “The Tuaregs and the Bedouin believe that the city is cursed. They call it the doorway to hell.”

“Ahmar is Ossirion,” Elena spoke in the ancient dialect. Her lips quirked up in a know-it-all grin. “It’s technically the ‘passageway to the underworld.”

Nik had never liked a know-it-all, but he found the smug light in her eyes beautiful. He wasn’t a fan of the self-satisfied smirk though; he would have liked to wipe it from her face.

“I don’t believe in fairy tales Mr. O’Connell,” Elena’s fingers tapped against the table, “I put no stock in the supernatural. If I can see it and touch it then its real, curses are nothing more than stories.”

“You’re going to eat those words, love,” he warned with a cheeky smile.

“I doubt it,” her tongue darted out to whet her lips. Passion lit up her eyes as she explained what she was truly hoping to find. “I don’t believe in fairy tales and I never will, but I do believe that one of the most famous books in history is buried out there: the book of the living. According to my research it’s supposed to contain all of the spells and incantations of the old kingdom. It’s what first interested me in Egypt.”

“Right,” his eyes darted from her glittering gaze to her full lips, “and the fact that it’s made of pure gold means absolutely nothing to you?”

Elena smiled and searched his gaze. “You know your history.”

“I know my treasure.”

Elena swallowed when she saw his gaze flickering to her mouth. Was he going to kiss her again? Her eyes fell to the table under his gaze.

She forgot for a moment why her eyes had fallen when she saw his arm.

He had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows exposing his strong forearms.

Elena didn’t think before reaching out and wrapping her hand around his wrist.

His breath caught in his throat as heat raced up his arm. He was so surprised by her actions that he made no move to stop her soft fingers from tracing the lines of his tattoo.

Elena bit her lip and traced the bold black lines of the all-seeing eye encased in the pyramid and flanked by two kings in front of the setting sun. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had seen the mark somewhere before, but the hieroglyph beneath the pyramid eluded her mind.

“This is interesting,” she lifted her gaze. Her breath caught when she realized how close she was to him; a rich flush flooded her olive complexion.

“Nothing really special about it,” Nik shook his head, “it’s just a tattoo; I got it slapped on me at an orphanage in Cairo.”

“You know,” Elena thought the night must have cooled off when she leaned back a ways, “most orphanages don’t brand the orphans.”

“I woke up one day with a splitting headache and this,” he waved to his arm which she was still holding.

“Right,” Elena cleared her throat and released his wrist. She climbed to her feet and saw him pick up another gun to clean from the corner of her eye. She paused before leaving and looked back over her shoulder. “Just out of curiosity… why did you kiss me?”

“I was facing the noose,” Nik shrugged one shoulder, “it seemed like a good idea at the time.” One last kiss from a beautiful woman was hardly the worst last memory he could have had. He did regret her not having a chance to respond; would she if he kissed her again?”

“Right,” Elena scoffed. She spun on her heel and walked away; her shoes clicked out a harsh rhythm on the deck.

“What?” Nik’s eyes followed her path. “What did I say?” It had been a while but he clearly recognized the sight of an angry woman. The thought that he might follow and find out what had vexed her flew from his head when the snicker reached his ears from under a nearby table.

Quick as a whip his hand darted under the table and caught the skinny arm. He grasped the rat faced man’s collar and held him up so he was forced to stand on his tip toes.

“My friend,” Beni’s smile was nervous. “I’m so surprised.”

“If it isn’t my little friend, Beni,” he tilted his head and gave the man a shake, “I should kill you.”

Beni tipped his head back and swallowed when a knife was pressed to his throat. He forced a large grin on his face and motioned with his eyes in the direction Elena had left.

“You never were any good with the ladies, eh O’Connell?”

Nik ignored the jibe; he did perfectly well with women… provided he wasn’t actually interested in them. When he was interested he had a tendency to turn into a bumbling mess.

“You’re the one leading the Americans,” he nodded as if he should have known. “Let me guess: you take them into the middle of the desert and leave them to rot.”

“Not this time,” Beni frowned as if it were the biggest inconvenience in the world and not like he routinely took men out into the desert to die. “They’re smart, these ones. They only paid me half now; I get the other half when I get them back to Cairo.”

Nik bit his cheek and narrowed his eyes before lowering the knife and placing it in his pocket. He saw Beni visibly relax and rub his neck.

“Why are you going back?” Beni looked Nik up and down; he couldn’t remember ever seeing him so clean. “You never believed in Hamunaptra.”

Nik and Beni both turned when they heard a startled yelp to see Elena backing away from the horse paddock. She yelped again when the camel attempted to take another bite out of her.

Nik grinned when she turned from the animals and hastened down the deck.

“She saved my life,” he nodded after the brunette, “her and her brother. Figured it was the least I could do; keeping them out of trouble.”

“You always did have more balls than brains,” Beni laughed nervously.

“Hmm,” Nik’s eyes narrowed when he turned to look back at Beni. “Let’s make us even, huh?”

“Even?” Beni gulped. He yelped when Nik grabbed and tossed him over the rail of the barge.

Nik found the splash and subsequent death threats incredibly amusing. He closed his bag and threw it over his shoulder before turning away. He froze when he spotted three sets of wet footprints leading from the rail down the deck. Every sense was on alert as he looked around.

++++

Elena chewed her lip and absentmindedly pulled the pins from her hair. The glossy curls fell over her bare shoulders, exposed by the low cut of the nightgown. Her eyes were distant as she remembered the firm pressure of his mouth on hers; the warm tingle that had spread through her body.

She tore herself from the memory and gave her head a good shake to loosen the more stubborn curls. When they were all free she turned on her vanity and gasped loudly. A small squeak escaped her lips when she was pushed against the wall of her cabin; the cool looking glass raised goosebumps along her arm.

She wrapped her fingers around the hand keeping a dominating hold on her throat and met the man’s dark eyes. It was difficult to concentrate on his features though when the tip of a knife was pressed to her cheek.

She opened her mouth to scream and released a frustrated groan when his hand shifted to cover the sound.

“Where is the map?”

Elena swallowed nervously and shook her head but she couldn’t stop her eyes from darting to the table where the papyrus was all but concealed beneath a book.

“And the key?” He followed her gaze and saw the candle flicker casting a light on the ancient hieroglyphics. “Where is the key?”

Cold terror raced up and down her spine. It shone in her eyes and made her breath shake on each rough inhale through her nose. She knew he could see the clear confusion in her eyes though when he sighed and pressed the blade to her throat.

“Never mind,” he moved as if to kill her, “I’ll find it myself.”

Elena gasped when the door was kicked in and she was spun around to face it. The knowledge that she was being used as a human shield hit her like a ton of bricks when she managed to focus on Nik and the gun in his hands.

Nik looked from Elena to the man holding her. He didn’t notice the way the man’s eyes lingered on his arm.

“Friend of yours, love?”

Her eyes widened.

Nik spun when the window opened and jumped out of the way of a bullet that splintered the wall of the cabin. Returning fire he heard the body of the attacker tumble backwards and splash into the river.

His shots were wilder than he would have liked them to be. He wasn’t sure who’s gun hit the kerosene lamp, but he did know that it caused enough of a distraction for Elena to grab the candle and jam it back over her shoulder into her assailants face.

The man yelled out in pain and released her.

Nik grabbed her arm and pulled her from the flaming room. He rolled his eyes when she snatched the bag lying by the door.

Elena attempted to pull her arm free when he pulled her down the hall away from her cabin. “We need the map!”

She managed to break his grip and moved as if to run back into the burning room.

Nik grabbed her arm and spun her into the wall. His body held her in place until she stopped struggling and glared up at him.

“Let me go,” her arms waved wildly. Her bag bumped into her hip and hit his side. “We need the map.”

“Relax, sweetheart,” he lifted one hand to tap his head, “I’m the map.”

Elena’s eyes widened. Of course he was the map. The notion that she had needed the bit of paper struck her as suddenly absurd; the whole point of bringing him along was that he filled in the missing pieces.

++++

Elijah wiped the last of the candle wax from his cheek and swore at the rising flames now blocking the path to the rest of the ship.

He swore again before backing away and jumping through the open window. Enzo would have to deal with them now.

The cool river water soothed the burn as he swam around the side of the ship looking for any opening that he could use to re-enter. It was a futile endeavor; the flames were spreading quickly now. He made his way to the shore instead and fingered the tattoo on his forearm while watching the ship burn.

Fire was not his weapon of choice, but it worked well enough.

His thumb traced an ancient hieroglyph under his tattoo.

++++

Elena knew it was probably inappropriate to focus on the way his hand fit perfectly with hers as they ran from the flames, but that was just where her mind went. There were people screaming and shouting and fleeing for their lives, but she couldn’t stop thinking of his hand.

Maybe she was just focusing on the little things in an attempt to dispel her panic.

Elena screamed when a large chunk of the wall exploded behind her head.

Nik pushed her behind him and spun in the direction of the man in black; this had to be the last guy. He returned fire while backing Elena up and keeping her body behind him at all times.

Inspiration struck when he heard the panicked snorts of the horses and camels. He waited until the man was in front of the paddock to shoot the lock. He spun when he heard the pained screams as the man was trampled beneath the stampeding animals.

Securing Elena’s bag over her shoulder he tightened the straps of his own and came to a stop by the rail.

“Can you swim?” He shouted over the cacophony on deck.

“If the occasion calls for it,” Elena yelled back.

“Trust me,” he picked her up and tossed her over the rail, “it calls for it.”

“Elena?” Kol came up beside him. He breathed a sigh of relief when her head broke the surface.

“You’re next, mate,” Nik gave Kol a good shove before jumping over the rail himself.

Kol came up sputtering and took his sister’s arm as she treaded water. “You okay, darling?”

“I’m fine,” she nodded. Her teeth chattered as she turned towards the shore and started swimming; she couldn’t think too much about the action until her feet touched the muddy bank of the river. Swimming was something she only did when absolutely necessary; a side effect of nearly drowning as a child.

She waded out of the water and raked her wet hair out of her face. Her sleeveless blue nightgown clung to her curves; had the sun been high in the sky she would have been exposed to anyone daring to look. She blushed when she realized that Nik was looking.

He tore his gaze from her skin; the water droplets glittered like stars in the moonlight. His attention was grabbed by the man shouting on the other side of the Nile.

“It looks to me like I’ve got all the horses!” Beni cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted. The majority of the survivors were behind him running after the escaped animals.

“Looks to me like you’re on the wrong side of the river,” Nik couldn’t stop his smirk. When he turned back around it was to see Kol peeling off his wet jacket and using it to cover Elena’s bare shoulders; it did nothing to conceal her legs though.

“Thanks,” she murmured. The jacket was wet but succeeded in making her feel less exposed to the eyes of the men on the other side of the water.

“You want to tell me what was so important about that bag,” Nik nodded to the strap that was slotted between her breasts.

“This,” Elena swallowed and extracted the puzzle box. “The papers are ruined, but that man wanted this, so I have to believe it’s important.”

“Considering you stopped in the middle of an inferno to grab it that box better be the Holy Grail!” He glared at the trinket while regretting ever pulling it from the sands, but he had been intrigued by the box none of the other men had been able to open; it had been the perfect hiding place for the map.

“Not the Holy Grail,” Elena grinned, “but definitely something.”

“You stopped in the middle of the fire?” Kol crossed his arms and glared.

“Only for a second,” she shrugged, “and I counteracted the action by taking a midnight swim… Oh come off it Kol, I can swim. You saw to it that I could swim.”

“Yes I did,” he nodded once, “and you hated me for it for months.” He exhaled and pulled the box from her hands. “Just promise me you won’t do anything foolish or life threatening.”

“I’ll try not to,” she smirked before turning and walking across the muddy ground.

“Why do I get the sense I’m going to be saving her life again in the near future?” Nik adjusted his bag and gave Kol a sidelong look.

“Because,” he sighed and shook with a humourless laugh, “that’s Elena. She’s got a talent for getting into trouble; half the time she doesn’t even realize she’s doing it.”

tags @elejah-wonderland @rissyrapp20 @elejahforever @eternityunicorn @morsmornte

[sourwolf-sterek32]

You’re Not Alone ( Daryl Dixon x Reader )

Summary: You’ve been on your own for 8 months now after your brother died. Scavenging and hunting, using the skills your father taught you to stay alive. Until you came across a little girl lost in the woods. You were determined to get her back to her mother, but once you found her group everything changed and you found yourself falling for the blue eyed archer without realising it.

(Set during Season 2. Roughly around the time Sophia went missing)

Parings: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Warnings: Language, violence. mild descriptions of blood and gore (it’s twd what do you expect?)

Chapter 8:

"Do ya really think ya can get this bike started?" Daryl questioned as you finished filling the tank with fuel, placing the jerrycan on the bench next to the bike.

"Are you doubting me Daryl Dixon?" You questioned raising your eyebrow at him before you grabbed the handle bars of the bike, kicking the stand up as you pushed the bike out the shed with Daryl following behind.

You looked over your shoulder at Daryl who was watching you in amusement. He has never known a girl who liked motorcycles, let alone one who knew her way around the engine of one. It was just another thing he could add the list of the reasons why he liked you.

You turned your attention back to the bike as you swung you right leg over the seat before making sure the bike was in neutral as you turned the key but nothing happened. "Shit the electric start is broken." You muttered as you pulled the kick starter out before slamming your foot down against the leaver as the bike purred to life. You sat down on the seat as you revved the engine letting it idle for a few seconds before you heard Daryls motorcycle start up.

"Try to keep up." He shouted over his shoulder and you grinned as you kicked the bike in gear before releasing the clutch as you took off past Daryl. You shifted up a couple gears as you cruised around the paddock and the farm house, the cool breeze flowing past your face making you feel alive. You glanced over your shoulder as Daryl gave you the thumbs up as he followed behind you on his Triumph.

*Meanwhile*

"Hey daddy look! Y/N got the old dirt bike working." Maggie shouted from the front porch of the house watching as you and Daryl rode around the area.

"I'll be damned, she did." Hershel suddenly said walking through the front door taking in the scene in front of him as Ricks group all walked up the house in surprise.

"At least some of us found a way to have some fun." Glen commented with a smile watching the two of you race around as Maggie wrapped her arms around his waist watching you guys ride.

"They are gonna get themselves killed." Shane muttered as he leant against the railing with an unamused glare.

"Leave them alone Shane, the two are having fun and after what they've both have been through the past few years, they deserve it." Carol replied as she pulled Sophia closer to her giving her a hug.

"Do you think they are together?" Rick suddenly questioned looking over at the girls knowing there was no point asking the guys, they wouldn't have a clue.

"Did you see them this morning? They are definitely together." Lori replied with a slight smile.

-

A few minutes later you noticed Rick standing by the farm house waving for you and Daryl to come over there. You glance over at Daryl who already spotted Rick and you nodded as you both rode back towards the farm house parking the bikes by the front steps.

"Hershel is letting us stay in the house from now on." Rick said as you and Daryl climbed off the bikes and walked over to them.

"It will be a tight fit but don't worry about that, we should have moved you guys in a while ago, its not safe to sleep out there." Hershel stated and you nodded in appreciation before Rick started handing out orders for everyone. T-Dog was keeping watch of the perimeter, keeping watch of everyone coming and going while you and Daryl took the double guard shifts. Hershel stocked the basement up in case you all need to retreat in there for a few days.

"After we get this area locked down and all our gear inside, Daryl and I will take Randall offsite and cut him loose." Rick stated and Daryl nodded before he began helping T-Dog take down all the tents.

"We're back to that now?" Shane questioned in frustration and you rolled your eyes looking over at Rick hoping he will shut his friend up.

"It was the right plan first time around. You don't agree, but this is whats happening. Swallow it. Move one." Rick simply said but you knew it wasn't enough for Shane who shook his head.

"You known that Dales death and the prisoner... that's two separate things right? You wanna take Daryl as your wingman, be my guest." Shane responded and you shook your head. Damn right Rick was gonna choose Daryl over him, he trusts Daryl, he respects him! He may have trusted Shane a long time ago, but shit has clearly changed and it was time Shane learnt that.

"Thank you." Rick muttered walking off towards you giving you a nod which meant for you to follow him as he walked which is what you did. "Shane can get worked up sometimes, he's not a bad guy... he's just his own worst enemy."

"I know he use to be your partner back in the day, but I don't trust him Rick and I know Dale didn't either." You replied causing Rick to stop walking as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

"I know. I know. Which is why I am asking you to keep an eye on him, you're good at observing and reading people just like Daryl and I would have asked him to do it, but him and I are gonna drop Randall off which means while we're gone I need you to step up. Can you do that for me?" Rick asked and you nodded. Babysitting Shane... of course I get stuck with that job while the other women get to set up our new camp in the lounge room of the farm house.

"I'm gonna go drop mine and Daryl's stuff off at the farm house and see if anyone else needs help, but don't worry I will keep an eye on him." You replied and Rick nodded with a smile before you jogged over to yours and Daryls tents before you began packing everything up.

-

"Daryl and I will take the corner by the window if its not taken." You said as you climbed out the old blue truck before you began unloading all your gear.

"That's all yours." Maggie replied as she helped you carry everything inside. You found a spare gun strap on the bench, asking if anybody was using it, but Lori told you it was a spare. You clipped it too your bow slinging it over shoulder like how Daryl carried his crossbow sometimes. Now you don't have to drop your bow every time you wanted to use your handgun instead.

You walked outside after setting yours and Daryls sleeping bags up and noticed Daryl and Rick were standing on the other side of the railing under the veranda, obviously discussing where they are gonna drop Randall off. Not wanting to disturb them you walked over to Jimmy giving him a hand with nailing the wooden planks of wood against the windows.

A few hours went by while you helped with odd jobs around the farm, while keeping an eye on Shane. He had mainly been building a lookout platform on the windmill all day, but as you looked back over in that direction he wasn't there. Where the hell did he go? You thought to yourself as you walked passed the cars and motorcycles parked in front of the house when you caught site of someone walking into the wooden shed where Randall was being held. It was across the other side of the paddock, so you couldn't quite see who it was, but you could probably make a pretty good guess.

You knew Shane was going to try kill Randall, but you weren't going to let him do that. Rick said no and it's what Dale would want, so like hell you were going let Shane kill him.

You jogged over to the shed opening the door to find Shane about to walk out the door with Randall in front of him.

"What the hell are you doing?" You exclaimed walking into the room as you shut the door behind yourself to stop Randall from running out if he got free from Shanes grip.

"Walk away Y/N, this doesn't concern you." Shane growled as he shoved Randall to the ground who's hands were duck tapped behind his back with his blindfold still on.

"What are you doing with him?" You questioned folding your arms over your chest as you stared at Shane not backing down as he took a step towards you.

"Rick told me to get Randall." Shane lied and you shook your head rolling your eyes.

"If you're gonna lie to me at least make it somewhat believable. Now put the handcuffs back on him, leave the shed and I won't tell Rick about this." You ordered holding your hands out to show that you don't want a fight.

"I have to kill him, Rick is making a mistake. Now get out my way." Shane shouted pushing you to the side so he could get to Randall but you grabbed his arm pulling him away. "You little bitch." He muttered, grabbing the collar of your shirt as he slammed you into the wall across the room. You landed on the floor gasping for breath from the sudden force of the wall, but before you could get up Shane marched back over to you pulling you to your feet by your hair.

"When you wake up you don't tell anyone about what just happened here or else I will kill you." Shane muttered, but before you could make anysense of his words his fist slammed against your temple and the last thing you saw was the ground rushing towards you before everything went black.

-

"Whats going on?" Carol questioned as the group rushed towards the shed where Rick, Daryl, T-Dog and Andrea were gathered.

"Randalls missing." T-Dog muttered as he walked out the shed crossing his arms in frustration as the rest of the group reached the shed wanting to know what happened.

"The cuffs are still hooked he must have slipped them." Rick informed walking out the shed towards the group.

"How's that even possible?" Lori questioned as she grabbed Carl and Sophias hands making sure they stayed close to her while Randall was running free somewhere.

Rick looked around at the group before glancing over at Daryl who was already trying to look for tracks around the shed before Shane came running from the forest.

"Rick! Rick!" Shane shouted causing the group to rush over to him gasping at his bloodied face.

'What happened?" Rick questioned.

"He's armed! He's got my gun. Little bastard just snuck up on him." Shane explained as he wiped the blood from his nose.

"Alright, Hershel, T-Dog, get everybody back in the house! Glenn, Daryl, come with us!" Rick instructed, but Daryl froze looking over at the group finding everyone standing there but you.

"Wait, where's Y/N?" Daryl questioned as he loaded his crossbow looking over at Rick as his eyes scanned the group.

"She's probably back at the house." Rick replied, but Daryl shook his head. She could be out there somewhere while Randall is free with a gun running around.

"She can take care of herself, we need to find Randall." Shane added glancing over at Daryl who looked hesitant on what to do.

"Rick needs you to help track Randall. We will find Y/N, she's probably in the house." Maggie reassured looking at Daryl before giving Glen a quick kiss as Rick, Shane, Glen and Daryl all ran in the direction Shane pointed them towards. God you better be okay, he thought.

Next Chapter

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #Daryl Dixon Imagine #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl Dixon x reader #twd #twd fanfiction #the walking dead #You're not alone

[darrowbyeightfive]

The Scenic Route: A Diversion

An All Creatures Great and Small/Doctor Who pastiche/crossover - an affectionate and (hopefully) humorous tribute to these two series and, particularly, to one of my favourite actors, Peter Davison. 

Familiarity with the Fifth Doctor era and Series 1 Episode 7 of All Creatures Great and Small is definitely recommended for this to make any kind of sense.

Revised, tidied-up, all-in-one-place-for-added-convenience version.

Please enjoy and do let me know if you find any mistakes, plot holes or other infelicities.

(ca. 4000 words - consider making a cup of tea/coffee/other beverage of choice).

- 1. -

The Doctor did not feel at all well. His head throbbed, his throat was sore and, despite wearing an extra jumper and one of the long scarves he had favoured in his previous regeneration, he still shivered, chilled to the bone. He wondered what had happened to the other scarf that he had unravelled – a rather clever trick, that, one that he had learned from a very bright young Cretan lady – during his regenerative crisis. It was something of a shame that in all these years he had never got around to learning to knit, he now thought. Knitting must have much to do with mathematics. He began to imagine the yarn, passing over and under itself, creating all sorts of intricate patterns, over and under and around and behind and backward and forward, just like the threads in the web of time. He saw them, past, present, future, the definite and the possible, all weaving themselves together in the air in front of his eyes… and then he came to himself again with a start, realising that he was drifting into delirium and must try to find somewhere he could rest until his fever broke and he was on the way to recovery. Somewhere, ideally, with soft sheets and blankets, plenty of hot cups of tea and sympathetic company.

He might have known this would happen. There had been an outbreak of space flu on the planet Mintaka-VIII, which was inhabited by a race of technologically advanced, but physically somewhat susceptible, lizardlike beings. The ruler of the lizards, Zorg, had contacted the Doctor in some desperation, asking him for any help he could provide. Concerned about the possible effect of space flu on his Trion companion – the TARDIS Data Bank entry on the subject made alarming reading and he had no wish to watch Turlough twitching and frothing at the mouth a second time – he had left him for safety on the Eye of Orion, travelling alone to Mintaka-VIII. His analyses had identified a particular type of crystal that could act as a febrifuge for the Mintakans’ ruthenium-based metabolisms and, the crystals not being available locally, he had set off in his TARDIS to a mineral-rich moon in another star’s system to obtain them. However, even before leaving Mintaka-VIII, he had started to feel distinctly shaky, and reluctantly had to admit that he was in the grips of space flu himself – not fatal for Time Lords, but unpleasant and, for a day or two, very debilitating, leaving one in no fit state to be able to conduct trade negotiations on moons with only rudimentary facilities.

Where should he go to recuperate? His fevered brain felt full of fog, but he remembered that Earth in the late 20th century was a pleasant enough place, if a little technologically backward. He was delighted to read in the Data Bank that space flu had no ill-effects on humans beyond minor snuffles and sneezing. Perfect! He set the time and space coordinates for Brendon School in 1983; the Brigadier would surely be happy to let him sleep on the sofa-bed in his secluded little house for a day or so until he was well again, and then he must take the Mintakans their medicine.

It seemed that the TARDIS had other plans, or perhaps it was just that with his woolly head and shaking hands, the Doctor had entered the wrong data. The TARDIS landed in a field at the back of a large, grey stone house in a green, hilly landscape. It was clearly part of Earth and looked to be England, but was certainly not the grounds of Brendon. He picked up a haversack that he had packed with a few essentials, opened the TARDIS door and walked unsteadily (oh, how his head ached, and how heavy his legs felt!) towards the house, rapping on the glass in the back door and hoping very much that some kind person was inside.

A middle-aged woman, wearing an apron and with her greying hair tied back in a bun, answered the door. “Oh, Master Tristan! What have you been doing with yourself? I suppose you went to the pub after your cricket match, and then somehow ended up waking up this morning under a hedge with someone else’s clothes on. You get yourself into some right scrapes! Whatever are we going to do with you?” she chuckled. “You do look peaky, though,” she added in a more serious tone, when the Doctor failed to reply.

“’M not… M-m-mas-t-t-ter-” stuttered the Doctor, but he couldn’t seem to get his words out. He staggered a little and began to sway. Mrs Hall was quick-witted enough to realise what was happening, and caught him as he fell limply into her arms.

“Eh, poor lad, you’re shivering,” she said, as she picked up the haversack, put the Doctor’s arm around her shoulder and helped him up the stairs. “Let’s get you up to bed. That’s the best place for you.”

The bed, with its silky green quilt and piles of pillows, looked wonderfully inviting.

Mrs Hall went downstairs, promising to return with tea. The Doctor unpacked shakily and changed into his white flannelette pyjamas with their red question-mark motif, then wrapped himself up in the paisley-patterned dressing-gown that Lady Cranleigh had given him by way of apology for the events that took place at her home. By the time that Mrs Hall returned with tea and a very welcome hot-water bottle, the Doctor was tucked up under the covers. He swallowed down the tea while it was still hot, then drifted off into somewhat feverish sleep.

- 2. -

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my bed?”

Tristan had come home, tired and dirty, from a long day spent out on cold, exposed hillsides, and was looking forward to a hot bath before dinner. He whistled as he climbed the stairs to his bedroom to collect a change of clothes. Pushing open his bedroom door, he was astonished to find his bed occupied. The mysterious person was snuggled deep under the covers, with only a little blond hair showing. Tristan didn’t remember any college friends having invited themselves to stay, and in any case, surely Mrs Hall would have put up someone of that kind in the spare room. So who was this? Unless… it couldn’t be one of the nurses, could it? Perhaps one of them had finally been kicked out of her accommodation for breaking the curfew too many times, and had thought to presume on his kind heart. He would be in tremendous trouble with Siegfried if a nurse was found in his bed. Siegfried would imagine all sorts of things had been going on that had not, in fact, been going on.

“I say,” said Tristan. “What do you think you’re doing, sleeping in my bed?” He went over to the sleeping figure and gave what he supposed must be its shoulder a gentle shake. If it was a nurse, or any other visitor whose presence had not been approved by Siegfried, then the sooner this person was out of his bed, down the stairs and out of the house, the better.

The Doctor woke, turned over, pushed back the covers and peered groggily at the person who had been speaking to him in such an indignant tone.

Tristan and the Doctor stared at one another in surprise. The Doctor’s surprise was tinged with trepidation. Could Omega have come back once more? Had he somehow managed to escape his pitiful antimatter existence and to re-emerge into this world?

The Doctor propped himself up into a seated position, put out his hand and said “Hello, how do you do? I’m the Doctor.” The greeting didn’t really seem equal to the occasion, and perhaps a handshake wasn’t the best idea if one was dealing with one’s antimatter double, but he was feeling too ill and muzzy-headed for such considerations of originality and caution to play any great part in his thinking.

Tristan, unperturbed by concerns about renegade Time Lords, just stared at the stranger in bemusement, before realising that his manners were wanting, shaking the Doctor’s hand and introducing himself.

“So, let me get this straight,” said Tristan, some time later. “You travel through time and space in that blue box thing that’s sitting out there in the paddock at the moment, trying to put things right, and you just happened to turn up on our doorstep this morning, suffering from some sort of influenza. I have to say that it feels as if I have landed in the middle of a novel by Mr. Wells.” He had extracted the story from the Doctor amid much coughing and many cups of tea.

“Yes. The blue box, as you call her, has something akin to a mind of her own. The old girl does her best by me. I think she must have known that in this house, at this time, there would be someone who would let me in and put me to bed without even asking any questions.” The tea and the sleep had given him a lucidity that he had lacked previously. “I’m terribly sorry for sleeping in your bed without asking, but when I arrived I was feeling so giddy that I didn’t really know what was going on, and was just grateful for somewhere to rest.” He broke off as another coughing fit overtook him. “The lady who let me in was most tremendously kind to me. I really ought to thank her properly.”

James and Siegfried had arrived home by this point, and were gathered around the bed with Tristan, listening to the Doctor’s story.

“Well, little brother, I’ve got to hand it to you,” said Siegfried. “You really do know how to cause a stir. I leave the house in the morning and when I get back in the evening you have a sick time-traveller in your bed.”

“But – but – but – it wasn’t anything to do with me,” said Tristan, with an air of injured dignity.

“Are you quite sure this isn’t all a college prank, Tristan? All smoke and mirrors and stage make-up? You do have rather a regrettable flair for the theatrical. There was all that business with the ghostly monk not too long ago, after all.”

“Who told you about the monk?” said Tristan. Siegfried wasn’t supposed to know anything about that.

“No one,” said Siegfried. “It was just, let us say, educated guesswork. In any case, assuming our visitor is indeed a time-traveller rather than one of your more disreputable college associates, I would be very unwilling to let him fend for himself with such a nasty case of flu. You can’t put a chap out on the street when he’s in that sort of state, particularly when he looks so much like family.” Siegfried realised that he had been talking over the Doctor’s head, and made amends by addressing him directly. “I’m very sorry, my dear chap. My little brother does play so many pranks that I suspected that he had been up to something. Would it suit you to stay here for a while? And could you worry down some soup? We’ve got to keep your strength up, and Mrs Hall makes a most excellent cream of celery.”

The Doctor, exhausted from giving so many explanations and from listening to the exchanges between the brothers, weakly croaked out a grateful “oh yes, please, and cream of celery would be splendid”.

- 3. -

The Doctor was not recovering as quickly as he had hoped. At present, he was sitting up in bed, eating a bowl of porridge. Tristan was sitting beside him, reading out extracts from the newspaper. He had developed a fondness for his Time Lord lookalike over the past few days, which was not due entirely to vanity (“He’d be really rather good-looking with that pleasant, open face of his if his nose weren’t so red and he didn’t look so pale and peaky, and he looks just like me, so that must mean that I’m quite decent-looking, too. I shall remember that the next time I’m trying to make a good impression on a girl. Courage, mon brave, and imitate the action of a Time Lord.”). It also owed much to the Doctor’s courteous and cheerful demeanour and the exciting tales he told of his adventures (unfortunately still too often cut short by coughing fits and exhaustion). It really was like having the hero of a novel by Jules Verne or H G Wells novel as one’s houseguest, albeit one who lay in bed all day alternately sleeping and drinking tea. Tristan did wonder whether he could claim to have space flu the next time he wished to get out of early morning calls.

The Doctor had realised with delight that he had landed in a part of England that was very fond of cricket, and when he felt too weak to talk very much, he asked Tristan to read him the cricket match reports. Tristan was happy to acquiesce, and soon progressed to reading out articles that he thought the Doctor might find amusing – while he did not possess Tristan’s very highly developed sense of humour, the Doctor was certainly capable of a chuckle at a funny anecdote – and items of general interest. On his third day at Skeldale, when his mind had regained much of its clarity, the Doctor found out that the year was 1938. Of course, Time Lord rules forbade him from letting his new friends know what was in their future, and he realised sadly that Tristan and James, and even the somewhat older Siegfried, would probably have to serve in the upcoming war. He was not party to their individual destinies, but he thought that he would like to thank them and offer them an experience to which that they could look back in the dark days ahead – a trip to the stars in his TARDIS. But first, he must deal with the problem of the Mintakans. He was still too weak and ill to make the trip to the mining moon and then to Mintaka. Yesterday he had tried to walk over to the window to take a look at the view, but he had only gone a few steps before his head began to spin alarmingly and he had to abandon his attempt. He would try again today and every day until he managed it. Meanwhile, he worried about the Mintakans. How would they manage without their medicine, and did they think he had abandoned them?

Tristan put down the newspaper. An idea had occurred to him.

An idea had also occurred to the Doctor.

James came in, with his arm in a sling. “That wound that I picked up at Bentley’s has become infected,” he said “I’ve got to wear this for the next few days until it has healed, so I won’t be able to drive.”

“I was meaning to ask you -” said Tristan and the Doctor, simultaneously.

“Would you show me how to fly your TARDIS?” asked Tristan.

“Would you two run an errand for me?” asked the Doctor.

- 4. -

“This is the life!” exclaimed Tristan. “Whizzing through space and time!” He pushed a few buttons on the TARDIS console, just for the pleasure of hearing the bleeping noises they made(*). “Do you think this Time Lord garb suits me?” He strutted backwards and forwards in the console room. Unknown to James, who had been asleep at the time, he had spent several hours the previous evening practising how to make his frock-coat flap behind him in the most satisfying way.

“It does, oddly enough,” said James, who had no wish at all to flatter Tristan’s vanity but did feel the compulsion to be honest. “It’s a strange collection of garments, and it seems to be the Doctor’s own idea of what Earth people wore a couple of decades ago, but it does look as if it was designed for you.”

They both, separately, imagined Tristan arriving at a dance in the Doctor’s outfit and seeing heads turn. James’ imaginings focused on the embarrassment associated with being in Tristan’s company when he was dressed thus, and on ways of avoiding this eventuality. Tristan, for his part, daydreamed hopefully of the female hearts that might be set fluttering by an appropriate flick of his dashing coat-tails. “Oh, you look just like Prince Charming in that coat” an attractive young admirer was sighing, gazing adoringly up at him with big blue eyes. “Yes, and you know what Prince Charming wants to do to his pretty little princess,” he imagined himself saying, leaning down to kiss her rosebud lips…

“Why did he ask you to wear his outfit?” asked James, interrupting this gratifying fantasy.

“I think he thought it would make it easier for me to negotiate with the moon miners if they believed they were dealing with him. He obviously does have a certain amount of clout in some corners despite his odd taste in trousers. Or perhaps he just thought it would be a jolly wheeze, which of course it is! It’s just like ‘The Prince and the Pauper’ that we saw at the pictures!”

“Who’s the Prince and who’s the Pauper?” laughed James.

“Anyway, our errand is accomplished and everything’s tickety-boo! I thought that after studying Vet. Med., I knew most of what there was to know about strange creatures. Never did I thought I’d see lizards in trousers… which, now I come to think of it, looked remarkably like the Doctor’s. Perhaps this sort of get-up is considered quite the thing on certain planets. Don’t you think it was remarkable how similar the space lizards’ constitution was to that of felis catus? Perhaps I should write a paper on it for the Veterinary Record. Do you think Zorg and co. appreciated that little speech I made to them: ‘We love you, that’s why we’re here’ and all that? I thought they seemed rather moved.”

“And now it’s time to get back to Skeldale” said the voice of common sense. He looked through the viewing screen and then down at the console. “Wait a second! This isn’t the way back to Earth!”

“Yes it is,” said Tristan, grinning. “It’s the scenic route! You do know that this machine travels through time and space, don’t you? We can go on a nice little detour through a few galaxies and still be back in time for tea! You know, I think I have an instinctive feeling for space-travel. I could have been a pilot for a living, looping the loop and all that. Flying this thing is just like driving the Austin, only with a few extra gears. The Doctor is a nice enough chap, thoroughly decent and all that, but he can be a bit of a stuffy old fusspot. Anyone would think he was hundreds of years old, the way he talks. All these instructions and watch-out-for-this and don’t-press-that-please and you-know-you-really-need-to-be-careful. He seems to think it’s his job to worry about the whole universe.”

“Perhaps it is.”

“I thought I would have to sit through hours and hours of lectures on how to fly this thing before I could get the key out of him. Worse than old Jenkins on Parasitology. Fortunately he got tired and drifted off halfway through.”

“Possibly the only person who has fallen asleep in his own lecture,” said James, laughing nervously.

“Oh, that’s happened plenty of times at Edinburgh.  When he woke up, he didn’t seem to realise that he’d been asleep. Must have been giving me flying instructions in his dreams. He gave me the key and just said ‘Please do try not to damage my TARDIS. She’s rather delicate,’ then just sort of flopped down and went back to sleep”.

“Imagine if it had been Siegfried and his Rover!” said James. “‘One scratch,’ he would have said, ‘just one scratch, and I’ll kill you with my bare hands’”.

Tristan laughed merrily and pressed a few more buttons.

“Don’t you think we’re going rather fast?” asked James. They did seem to be hurtling through space and time far too quickly, if that makes any sense when you consider Einstein's theories of relativity and whatnot, which Tristan didn't.

“Calm down, Jim, as I said, I have an instinct for these kinds of things and -” Tristan broke off with a yelp of horror as he saw, on the viewscreen, a phalanx of spacecraft flying directly toward the TARDIS. In panic, he pressed anything within reach on the console. The TARDIS made a nauseating lurch and swerved off in a different direction. It was not long before it crashed into something with an unpleasant, splintering crunch. Looking out of the viewscreen, the two young men saw that they had crashed into a rocky planet.

Remembering at least some of the Doctor’s warnings about planets without breathable atmospheres (perhaps the old bird did have a point with all his warnings after all, now he came to think of it), Tristan passed a shiny silver space helmet with an oxygen supply to James then took one for himself. Stepping out onto the planet’s surface, James picked up a chunk of space-rock off the mangled outside of the TARDIS and threw it down. Tristan, coming out to survey the damage, clutched his head in anguish (through his space helmet) and imagined how angry the Doctor would be after discovering what a mess he had made of his precious TARDIS.

***

The Doctor was propped up comfortably against the pillows, still feeling a little weak but in excellent spirits. His health had finally taken a turn for the better and he could convalesce at leisure, relieved of worry about the Mintakans thanks to those thoroughly decent young people who had made the trip in his place. After he had fully recovered his wits he had realised that there was, of course, no great hurry to get back to the Mintakans after all; after he had recovered, he could simply have set the coordinates of the TARDIS to arrive in Mintaka not long after he had left. That was the problem with space flu – it did addle the brain so. By the time this had occurred to him, the young men had already left. He just hoped that they had properly assimilated his instructions on how to fly the TARDIS. The people of this era were still very primitive when it came to space- and time-travel, and while James was a very sensible fellow, he sensed that Tristan, on whom he had had to rely to do the piloting with James’s arm out of action, tended towards excessive high spirits and recklessness.

“Thank you, Mrs Hall. It’s very kind of you to take care of me and bring me these most excellent cups of tea. I’ve been enjoying doing the crossword immensely. Ah, here are young Tristan and James. How did you get on with the errand I sent you on? Did you manage to get the healing crystals to Zorg and his lizards?”

“Yes,” said Tristan, who looked a little uneasy. “The lizards are now, er, basking in good health. But I’m afraid I took a bit of a detour and there was this flock, er, convoy of spaceships…”

The Doctor was overtaken by a coughing fit. He began to wonder whether he was about to regret having handed Tristan the keys to his TARDIS.

“I’m afraid the nearside wing of the TARDIS is rather mangled,” said Tristan, attempting to marshal his features into an expression of sweet, choirboyish innocence.

The Doctor made various expressions of polite, Edwardian-sounding indignation before managing to compose himself. “Crashing a chap’s ship! That really isn’t cricket, you know!”

- The End -

(*) “Do you mind?” grumbled one of the sound technicians. “Every time you press one of those buttons, we have to make a bleeping noise to go with it.”

“Yes, I know,” said Tristan, “that’s why I’m doing it.”

#all creatures great and small #doctor who #tristan farnon #fifth doctor #james herriot #siegfried farnon #mrs hall #peter davison #tristan flies the tardis #golden lads and girls #space lizards #stripy trousers #frock coats #tea in bed #crosswords #space flu #posh early 20th-century dialogue #as many references and in-jokes as i could cram in #my fiction #the scenic route

[magickmoons]

At the Right Time

square filled: model!Cas ship: pre-Destiel rating: teen ao3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/13666110 tags: meet cute, all-human AU, photo shoot, horses, Dean to the rescue summary: Castiel is just going through the motions anymore. Then comes a photo shoot at Winchester Farms... word count: 1965 written/created for @spnaubingo

My Master List

"But I don't know anything about horses!" Cas complained, eyeing the horses by the fence with concern. The makeup artist fluttering about him tsked at him to hold still.

"And if I were asking you to deliver a letter by Pony Express, that would be a problem. As it is, all you have to do is shut up, sit on it, and look pretty enough to sell .... what the hell are we selling today?" Crowley snapped his fingers insistently and Meg appeared.

"Cologne, I think," she answered, shuffling through papers.

Crowley's attention had already shifted. "No, no, no!" he shouted at someone as he strode  across the paddock. "That's completely wrong for this shot. Are you a total and complete imbecile?"

Meg flipped him the bird, then turned back to Castiel. "You'll be fine, Castiel. You get up, you sit, you smile, it'll be over." She patted Cas on the shoulder, adding, "And undo another button on the shirt."

Fingers -- not his own -- were unbuttoning his shirt as she spoke. Hands were on his face, in his hair, and he just stood there, letting them turn him this way and that, eyeing him critically, consulting each other about his hair, his clothes. He tried to tune it all out, tried to ignore the feeling that he was nothing more than a posable doll, but that had been getting harder to do lately. The excitement he had felt in the early days of modeling had faded long ago. But this was his job, after all, and he was being well compensated for it. Even the paychecks however had a hard time making up for the empty feeling these shoots were leaving him with.

He needed a break, maybe even permanent retirement. He knew that; he just couldn't find the right time to make the move.

***

Being on the horse wasn't as bad as he had feared. The animal was big, certainly, but there was a certain euphoria he felt sitting astride it. Maybe he would have to think about taking lessons someday.

"Cassie, love, stop looking down at the horse," Balthazar shouted. "Your public wants to see those lovely bedroom eyes. I don't want Dr. Doolittle. I want sinful, smouldering sex!"

Cas looked up, smouldered for the camera, and Balthazar made slightly less displeased noises. Behind him, Crowley was yelling at an intern who was headed to the decrepit old staff car. To their left, cas could see a man riding up on a black horse. He started to wonder if the new guy was another model for the shoot or an employee of the stables when a sharp sound echoed through the air around them, and the previously docile horse under Castiel startled ... and sprinted away.

He could hear people yelling behind him, but all Cas could do was grab onto the reins and hold on for dear life. He thanked whoever looked out for foolish models that the gate was open and that the horse made right for it instead of trying to jump the fence. He lost track of time -- surely it had only been a few minutes at most, but it somehow felt both instantaneous and interminable before there was a horse beside him.

It was the black horse -- definitely not another model then, Cas thought hysterically -- as the riding paced his horse, angling it to gently off its course, whistling and making other apparently calming sounds. The horse Cas was on started slowing to an easy jog, then a walk, and eventually stopped.

Cas sat as still as possible, trying to remember how to breathe.

"Are you all right?" Cas looked over at his rescuer and found the greenest eyes he had ever seen staring at him in concern.

"I ... yes, I think I am." His heart was racing and he felt sore all over, but he was in one piece. "Thank you, um...."

"Dean Winchester," the stranger said with an easy smile -- as if saving stray models from runaway horses was no big deal. "This is my family's farm."

Cas deliberately unclenched his hands from their death grip on the reins, rubbing at the grooves across his palms.

"I am really sorry about this. They were supposed to put you up on Foxtrot, he's a real gentleman. But apparently not as photogenic as Whiskey here." Dean leaned forward and patted the horse's neck soothingly. "She's a good girl, but still a little skittish. Unfortunately, when the snooty guy in the suit insisted on the switch, I was up at the house, and the groom on site wasn't quite able to stand up to him."

"I quite understand. Crowley can be ...."

"A dick?"

Cas laughed. "To put it succinctly."

"Hmmm. People usually just say I'm an ass. I think I like succinct better." He looked back the way they had come. "So, it's not too far back to your people. You want to ride, or walk?

"Walk, please," Cas responded with conviction.

Dean dismounted with an obscene grace and walked over to Cas, holding a hand out to help him off his horse. He took the reins from both horses in his hand and motioned for Cas to walk with him.

"You been riding long?"

Cas almost looked around to see who Dean was talking to. "No, I've never ridden a horse before."

Dean whistled, impressed. "I'm really damn impressed that you stayed up, then. You've got a great seat."

"Sheer survival instinct," Cas replied.

"Well, it works for you, Cas," Dean laughed.

Cas tilted his head looked over at Dean. "You know my name?"

Dean's eyes widened, and a flush spread across his face. "Oh, uh. Well... yeah. I mean, you're pretty well-known. I musta just picked it up somewhere. But, sorry, I  mean we haven't even been actually introduced and I'm using your nickname and --"

"It's fine, Dean. I think saving me from a runaway horse entitles you to a little familiarity." Not to mention the way Cas's heart had jumped just a little at the sound of Dean's voice forming his name. It  had been a long time since he'd felt anything like that. He definitely wanted Dean to keep talking. He wondered if it would be too forward to ask Dean out for coffee

"You grew up here?"

"Yep." Dean beamed as he looked around. "I love this place. Been in my family for a few generations now. Can't imagine any place more beautiful. Or more peaceful."

Cas looked over the rolling green pastures up to the tree-shaded mountains in the distance. Unseen birds chirped and chattered. It was peaceful, and beautiful, and so alive.

"'Course it's probably nothing next to what you've seen. All over the country, hell, even the world. You must have seen some really amazing things.

"My life is probably not as glamorous as you might think. There are times ... "

He sighed when he realized they were almost back to the main paddock, where a crowd of people was waiting. Balthazar was right in front, snapping away as they approached.

"You, cowboy!" Crowley's voice rang out. "You need to come sign these papers."

Dean frowned. "I've already signed everything."

"We need permission to use your image in the campaign."

"What?" Cas asked.

"What?" Dean echoed.

"The two of you walking back. The mountains, the sun, the horses -- just perfect, darling." Balthazar practically purred. "He'll sign, right? These pictures are magic! It would be a travesty not to use them."

Meg thrust a sheaf of papers and a pen in front of a bemused Dean.

He glanced at them briefly, then yelled, "Hey Sammy!"

A tall, handsome man walked over and Balthazar jabbed Castiel in the ribs. "Are all horsemen were this sexy?" He looked between Dean and 'Sammy.' "Why didn't anyone tell me?"

Dean glared at Balthazar. "Dude. Not cool. This is my brother, Sam Winchester. He's a lawyer." He shoved the papers into Sam's hand. "Read this and tell me if I'm signing my soul away. I've got to go take care of Whiskey." He turned to Crowley. "Any other pictures you want, you take on Foxtrot. End of story." He pivoted on his heel and led the two horses away before Cas had a chance to say anything else.

Everyone stood there watching as Dean disappeared into the stable. Then Crowley barked, "What's everyone standing around for? Let's get back to it, people!"

***

Although Cas kept an eye out through the rest of the shoot, he didn't see Dean again. Crowley disappeared for a while and came back looking pretty satisfied, so Cas assumed that Dean had signed the release paperwork.

When they started packing up, Cas found himself lingering much longer than he normally would after a shoot: half hoping Dean would turn up, and half trying to absorb as much of the living energy of the area as possible.

"Something I can help you with, Clarence?"

Meg looked entirely too amused when Castiel turned to face her. "No, thank you, Meg. I'm just enjoying the feel of this place."

"Sure. This ... place ... is quite attractive." She nodded over his shoulder. "Hey there, Dean."

Cas narrowed his eyes, unsure if she was baiting him or not, until he heard Dean's voice. "Meg. Cas, I was hoping to catch you."

"Well, you almost missed him. Last car's about to leave, Castiel. You do have a flight to catch."

"I'll just be a minute, Meg."

She pursed her lips, then threw her hands up in the air.  "One minute, Castiel. You miss your flight, Crowley will feed me to his dogs." She stalked over to the car and leaned against the side. At Cas's glare, she at least pretended to divert her attention to her phone.

"Dean," he said warmly as he turned back to find him shuffling nervously.

"So, yeah, don't wanna make you late. It's not ... Just, y'know, if you ever just want to take a break, we've got a couple of guest rooms up at the house. You'd be welcome to come hang around. I could even give you some riding lessons." He coughed abruptly. "Horses. Ride horses. Lessons for riding horses. You know what? Never mind. This was such a bad idea." His face was flaming red as he took a step away from Cas.

Cas stepped forward until he was well within Dean's personal space. "Not a bad idea. A very, very good idea."

Dean's eyes lit up and a soft smile curved his lips.

"That's great, then. Um..." He dug a business card out of his pocket and held it up between them. "Stable's info on the front, my personal cell is on the back. Anytime you're free."

"I'll have to check my commitments, but I would like to come back as soon as possible."

"Works for me."

Dean licked his lips as Cas stepped so close they were almost touching. For a moment, they stood still, watching each other. Then they were kissing -- Cas couldn't tell to save his life who had ultimately made the move -- a soft, almost tentative, press of lips that he felt in his very core. Before he got more than the faintest taste, a car horn beeped.

He pulled back to see Meg looking almost genuinely apologetic. She tapped her wrist.

"You gotta go," Dean murmured.

"I will be back."

Not trusting himself to allow only one more kiss, he stepped back, taking the card from Dean's hand and nodding. He looked back once he had settled himself in the car to see Dean still watching and waved. As the car drove away, he pulled out his phone and entered Dean's phone number before he began composing an email to Crowley instructing him to decline any new jobs for the time being.

It was definitely time to take a break.

#spnaubingo #model!cas #dean winchester #castiel #destiel #pre-destiel #all human au #au #photo shoot #horses #ani's fanfic #meg masters #crowley #balthazar #sam winchester

[ghozt1ng-blog]

Chapter Thirteen - These Ain’t the Cheap Seats

Trick was thoroughly confused as to how and why there could still be so many college students in a university town right before Thanksgiving. In a city that made itself on the presence of large college, which meant that these kids had other places to be during a holiday, why were they all still there? The others in the rented car had to explain to him that Provo was a black hole for Mormon students, or so they had heard. Their school schedules were different than others in the U.S., and they had such a strong community here that people didn’t want to leave. Plus, they would all be busing getting ready for the next bout of proposals, as Mormons were want to do, especially during a holiday.

    Utah is such a weird place! Trick rubbed his temples.

He looked out the window and watched the tame signs and shops go by. There was a palpable difference to this place, one that he felt he could reach out and touch. He knew he shouldn’t bring it up, though. Conturbatio was itching to go on about possible conspiracies (though Trick hadn’t really heard any yet from the man) in regards to the Mormons. Or was he? After speaking with the mailbox, the Sphinx seemed a little more subdued. Trick wondered what it was exactly that had flipped the switch. Was it the bizarre case? The all-knowing aspect of the blabbermouth? Was it the hint of enemies? Was it the insanity of the whole damn situation!? Trick couldn’t tell what it was, but he knew all of that was weighing down on him. This hadn’t been the adventure he was looking for when he had been bored in school just yesterday.

Had it just been yesterday!? This whole case made him feel like he had been slogging through the unexpected and the unwanted for a month. One magically disturbing month! Not even a full 24 hours! Trick felt like punching something, preferably Brandon.

Soon, they pulled up to the theater and made their way inside. Brandon had come with his folks, and he was already getting cold feet. Apparently the promise of a hot chick’s contact info can only bring a man so far. He and naomi both gritted their teeth, pinned Brandon between them and hiked him inside. Conturbatio bought the tickets.

“I am going to have a lot of explaining to do back at the office. The Budgeting committee is going to gut us even more than we already are…”

Stacey soothed him, “If we are able to prove everything that we have seen here and how it correlates with the last attack, the Q Files will grow in ways we have only dreamed about! Take a hit to win the fight, right?”

The Sphinx smiled at her and Susan said dryly, “Why don’t you pull out those kinds of encouragements more often?”

But then the two women smiled and laughed at each other. Trick concluded that adults were all weird and insane. Once the Sphinx handed them the tickets, we went back to the ca, where a duffel bag with their secret weapon resided. He was going to enter the theater from the back. The inside of the theater felt like an assault from the 80’s punctuated with too many neon lights. College students milled about everywhere, trying to get their popcorn, and dancing their significant others around other couples, and showing off. It was a unique dance and mad house. And the things they were saying were just too outrageous.

“Please Addison! I’m getting married soon, and I need the money. I can’t support a wife on just popcorn!”

A tall and youthful man was almost on his knees pleading to a bearded manager, who looked like sexy carved out of Mount Rushmore.

“You know Jed, some people would come to this country illegally just to work for popcorn, because they don’t have anything else! Are you really going to spurn what I am paying you?”

“I’m basically your slave!”

Addison sighed, “Of course you are! It was in your in employee contract, in bold nonetheless! Plus, you get free movies every week, AND you get to bring a friend! That is how you won her over, right?”

“Mimblewimble,” was what came out of Jed’s mouth.

“Now get your chores done, or there won’t be any stale popcorn for you later!” With that, the manager called Addison marched off.   

    Trick watched the dejected employee, Jed, as Agent Miles and his mother got popcorn. He went over to the entryway to grab up a broom when a gaggle of friends passed through the doors. One girl strode out at the front with her chest out and crowned with bump on her head to make expecting mothers’ pregnancy photos jealous. She wore clothes that screamed to everyone, “I live a conservative lifestyle!”

    “Jed,” she shouted when she saw him. “When are you getting a real job? How can expect to be a good husband and priesthood holder if all you do is languish in  a place like this and work for popcorn! Seriously, it drives the spirit and authority right out of you, and stop slouching!”

    “Yes Camille,” Jed said, clearly flustered.

    “That’s Sister to you,” she shoved a finger under his nose. “Oh come on, Jed, you know I’m joking. But seriously.”

    Trick and Jed both obviously thought this girl didn’t know what a real joke was, not would if it bit her on the butt. She then turned to others of her group and shouted, “What is the movie we are seeing again?”

    “Jurassic Park,” someone from the back piped up.

    “But that movie is PG-13,” Camille gasped. “And this late at night, in a dark theater. So much could happen! We are flirting with sin! Which is sin itself.”

    Trick groaned inwardly. He’d have to deal with Brandon and this bunch of idiots, too? He half wished a dinosaur would come through the screen and eat them.

    “Come on Camille, lighten up a bit. It’s a fun movie,” another girl tried saying.

    “Lighten up? Drop my standards you mean! That’s where it begins!”

    A big guy then sighed and said,”Look, I already got everyone’s tickets. Just please come and try to enjoy yourself.” Camille stuck her nose up into the air and stomped off, as the big guy turned to Jed. “So are you coming by tomorrow to play Smash? Remember, no Villager for you!”

    “No Adrian, you always beat me,” Jed complained.

    Adrian started pummeling Jed and said angrily, “Tell no one!”

    Trick just looked away and whistled. Together with Naomi, they frog marched Brandon into the theater. Sure enough, with a crowd pleasing favorite like Jurassic Park, the place was packed. Brandon said that the theater they were in was on the opposite side of the building where the first attack had taken place. With how many people there were, Trick would never have suspected that an attack had occurred here just days before. Another reminded of how weird the whole situation was.

    He heard Camille come in and still complain about the movie and avoiding the appearance of evil. Naomi also now looked like she had a good mind to go and slap the older girl. For crying out loud, let others enjoy the movie! Brandon began to whimper as they say down.

    “I really don’t want this to happen. I hope it doesn’t happen.”

    “You better hope it happens,” Naomi snapped. “Or you will still have to put up with the stuff that sucked you into a video game.”

    “I had been hoping for an SAO or Tron experience, but I just didn’t get it…”

    “Here, have some popcorn and stuff it,” Trick growled, shoving a large bag of popcorn under the teen’s nose.

Thankfully Brandon obliged and they could enjoy the previews in peace as the lights dimmed. Trick’s mother and Agent Miles positioned themselves right in front of the teens, as to better protect them when things got hairy. Brandon’s own family had decided not to join in, but were waiting outside. Trick’s hands got sweaty as he began anticipating the horrors that could come out of the screen.

The lights dimmed all the way down and the epic first note of Jurassic Park’s opening crashed over them like a wave. The hairs went up on Trick’s arms and neck and he watched as the trees and foliage shifted to make way for the ominous cage holding a velociraptor. Muldoon waited there with his guards to receive the monster. This scene always put Trick on edge, but in the best way.

Despite the fact that Brandon was here to gain access to Naomi’s friend, he still tried to hold her hand. She slapped it audibly away. Though it broke the atmosphere, Trick giggled at it. At least there was something to break the tension, which was continued to mount on screen.

The gatekeeper was on top of the loading cage, and the velociraptor rammed the other side of the cage, rolling it back and knocking the gatekeeper down. The raptor, still unseen, yanked the poor employee into the cage. Muldoon managed to latch a hold of the man and attempted in vain to thwart the murder.

“See, this is just so wrong, I can’t feel the comfort I should be feeling,” Camille whined somewhere behind Trick.

Oh great… She’s close by. This could end up being a very long movie. Trick rolled his eyes and tried to concentrate on the action.

And then the screen bulged, people in the audience gasped and screamed. The cage continued to roll back and it looked like was about to roll into the theater itself. The gatekeeper was swept in and screamed in agony as he was opened up and killed, beyond the sight of the camera. Muldoon jumped back and reached for his gun, firing rounds into the cage. But the horror was only beginning. The doors to the raptor paddock slid back effortlessly More raptors spilled out and began attacking workers.

“But there were only two others,” Naomi said quickly.

Brandon began rocking again and muttered, “We’ve got to go. We’ve got to go. We gotta go! It’s happening again, and it’s all wrong! We’re gonna die!”

Others in the audience began catching on that this was wrong and someone bolted for the doors. They shouted back that the door was locked and it couldn’t be opened. The same proved true for the exits. Panic was rising in the room, and the bulge was getting larger.

Still, Naomi asked quietly, “Why are there more raptors, there should only be three?”

Camille was shrieking her off behind them and the two FBI agents were rising and barring their guns. Something then came to Trick’s memory.

“She developed a pride and killed all but two of the others,” Trick quoted. “Naomi, there were originally more raptors in the cage than three.”

Naomi sucked in air and then said, “And if the heroes could barely deal with three raptors, what are we going to do against more than half a dozen, and with no way out?”

They shared a worried look over Brandon and Trick said weakly, “Sphinx had better get here now!”

The way into the theater was sealed, and Conturbatio could hear the cries of panic from within. He didn’t figure that anyone had been hurt yet. Shouting out to the employee and told them to make sure that the hallway was cleared.

“FBI business. THere is some trouble going on. Call the police! See to everyone’s safe evacuation!”

The employees gave him confused looks. It was only natural, however. He had the large vacuum pack with a gun strapped to his back. He looked really weird, and his badge just looked like he was late to a Halloween party. But the screams from the theater seemed to convince some and they began moving about. As Conturbatio put his back into breaking down the doors, a manager appeared.

“Sir, can I help you?”

“Mr., uh, Addison, there is about to be another attack in your theater. Something is wrong here and I need to get in!”

    “Jed!” Addison called to the hapless giant. “Help this man get inside and escort the people out. I’m going to make sure we evacuate the other theaters. Hop to it, and you’ll actually earn some money for a change!”

    Jed rushed to the Sphinx’s side as the manager ran into another theater himself. The screams were becoming frantic. Conturbatio raised an eyebrow at the thin youth’s frame.

    “I’m much more solid than I look,” Jed said.

    “I hope that is the case,” Conturbatio breathed. “Alright. Let’s get this door open!”

    Together, they threw themselves against the double doors, willing and forcing them to move.

#utards #My writing #mysteries of the q files #the x files #cheap movies #jedcanon #jurassic park