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pickingupmymercedes · 6 hours ago

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Your future was Ferrari - 3 / ?

Chapters - 1 / 2 / 3

summary: Some rules are meant to be followed—others were made to be broken. And they were breaking them all.

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Ferrari Engineer!Reader!

warnings: alusion to mature content.

wordcount: +3K

a/n: Let's head into the season then, each episode is probably going to cover 2 gp's, except for the more important ones.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

MILD CONTENT UNDER, -16 PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

______________________________________________________________

It was your first Sunday after a real GP weekend and the garage hummed with the controlled chaos of post-race analysis.

The sharp scent of burnt rubber and fuel still lingered in the air, a stark reminder of the battle fought on track just hours ago. You sat at your workstation, eyes flicking between the telemetry data on the screen and the notes scattered across the desk.

The tension in your shoulders refusing to ease, even as you forced yourself to take slow, measured breaths.

Carlos’s podium was a win for the team, a much-needed morale boost, but Leclerc’s brake issues gnawed at you like an unsolved equation.

You know the motto, every fraction of a second on F1 it’s a universe on its own

And honestly, if you had a dollar for every time Ferrari found a new and exciting way to stir up Charles’ race, you could probably afford your own kart by now.

That was your job now though, make sure those mishappens were reduced to none, if possible.

Your phone buzzed beside you, lighting up with a familiar name.

Dad.

A small smile crept onto your lips as you answered. “Dad, before you start, yes, I saw the race. Yes, I know the exact moment Charles started having those brake issue. And no, I don’t need you to tell me we should have pitted him earlier.”

Your father chuckled on the other end. “I raised a sharp one, didn’t I? You sound tired, though.”

“Not tired, just over-caffeinated and slightly delirious”

You glanced around the garage, watching as engineers worked through their notes, tweaking simulations for next week. “It’s just… Charles could’ve been on that podium too, but the brake issues ruined any chance of fighting.”

Your father hummed in understanding. “You always did hate problems you couldn’t fix.”

“Tell me about it” You leaned back in your chair, rubbing your temple. “Carlos did an amazing job, though. I should focus on that.”

“You should.” He paused, his voice turning softer. “And you should also enjoy this, Y/N. You’re in Ferrari, at the track. You dreamed of this.”

You swallowed past the sudden lump in your throat. “Thanks dad.”

Your father sighed. “And I know you, which means you’re probably stressing about something else, aren’t you?”

You exhaled sharply, rolling your eyes. “Can I get through one phone call without you playing therapist?”

“Not a chance” he quipped. “Now, tell me, have you met Lewis Hamilton yet?”

You nearly dropped Your phone. “Dad!”

“Oh, come on, kid. He’s my favorite. I also know how much the media has been circling around his struggles. And if I had to guess, I’d say you’ve been paying attention.”

Y/N’s grip tightened around the phone because you had been paying attention.

Too much if you ask me, but you’ve always ignored warnings, so go ahead, do Mercedes’ job as well, why won’t you?

But it wasn’t just the headlines dissecting his performance or the murmurs in the paddock. It was the way your stomach twisted every time you caught a glimpse of him, the way you couldn’t let go of that night in Abu Dhabi.

You cleared your throat. “He’s not my concern. I have to go though, call you later okay?”

Your father laughed. “Not yet buddy, not yet. Talk later then, love you.”

As you hung up, you heard a familiar voice behind you.

“Talking to your secret boyfriend?”

You turned to find Charles leaning on the counter beside you, arms crossed, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Just my dad” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll let him know you think he’s my secret boyfriend, though.”

Charles smirked. “Well, tell him I said hi. Now, what’s the verdict?”

“Those brake issues cost you more than I’d like to admit.” You sighed, gesturing to your screen.

Charles groaned dramatically. “Tell me about it. I was fighting that car more than the others drivers.”

“Oh, trust me, we could tell.”

Charles rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his grin. “Welcome to Ferrari, we love to keep things stress-free and simple” he quipped.

Carlos, who had just walked into the room, scoffed. “Where’s my analysis?”

Y/N grinned. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Podium. You did great.”

Carlos rolled his eyes but a grin tugged at his lips. “That’s the spirit.”

Carlos nudged Charles. “Hear that? I’m the favorite now.”

Charles scoffed. “For one race. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

Before you could reply, a voice called out from across the room.

“Y/N!”

Fred stood by the entrance, giving you a small nod of approval. “Good work this weekend.”

It was brief, but it meant everything. You nodded back, feeling a swell of pride. Maybe you did belong here.

As Charles and Carlos continued their playful banter, you let yourself enjoy the moment. Because for the first time in a long time, despite the chaos, despite the ghosts of the past, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And if you just so happened to check Lewis’ latest interview later on? Well, that was nobody’s business, right?!

By the time the Saudi Arabian GP rolled around, you had found your rhythm.

Meetings, data crunching, strategic planning—it was a symphony you were beginning to conduct effortlessly.

“Kid’s got guts.” you muttered, watching the Ollie’s onboards. “Thrown into the deep end and still holding his own.”

Leclerc nodded beside you. “He reminds me of someone.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“You. You acted like you belonged here from day one.”

You chuckled. “Fake it till you make it, right?”

As the race unfolded, Bearman’s performance cemented his place as an impressive stand-in, but your attention, no matter how hard you tried, kept slipping toward the Mercedes garage.

Toward Lewis.

His struggles were written all over the timing screens. The frustration in his radio messages, the dissatisfaction on his face—it gnawed at something.

Get a grip, Y/N. His problems are not yours.

You’d been hoping for a quiet night at the hotel. You just wanted a cup of tea, something to wind down after a long day at the track and podium celebrations afterwards.

But I could always count on the universe, ever the comedic genius, to shove him directly in my path.

He was sitting at the hotel bar, fingers absently tracing the rim of a half-empty glass. He wasn’t talking to anyone, no entourage, no Mercedes engineers hovering around.

Just him. Alone.

Abort mission. Walk away. Nothing to see.

But before you could turn on your heels and make a clean escape, Lewis looked up, and his gaze locked onto yours.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” His voice was quieter than usual, lacking its typical confidence, the easy charm that was him.

You considered lying. Saying you just happened to be passing through, had a Zoom call, an emergency meeting—anything but admitting you couldn’t sleep because your brain refused to shut up.

But lying required energy, and you had none left.

“Something like that,” you admited instead.

Lewis motioned to the stool next to him. A small, barely perceptible invitation.

This is how things started last time. A drink, a conversation. Next thing you know, you're waking up in a tangled mess of sheets again.

And yet, you sat down.

For a moment, there was only silence. Not the awkward kind, but the weighty kind, like the air between them was filled with unspoken words neither knew how to break.

Lewis sighed, shaking his head slightly before speaking. “It’s funny,” he murmured, more to himself than to you. “We spend our whole lives trying to be the best. Always pushing forward, always chasing something. And then one day, you wake up and wonder if the thing you’re chasing even exists anymore.”

Your fingers curled slightly around the edge of the bar. You recognized that look in his eyes. Not self-pity. Not even frustration.

It was doubt. Self-doubt.

Your first instinct was to wave it off, to remind him he was Lewis Freaking Hamilton, and if anyone was born to win, it was him. But something stopped you.

Because this wasn’t about his ability. He knew he was good. He knew he was one of the greatest to ever do it. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was… what if being great wasn’t enough, not anymore?

And you got that. You really did.

So instead of feeding him some empty platitude, you decided on meeting him halfway—being vulnerable too.

“I know my world isn’t the same as yours” you said carefully. “But I get it. The uncertainty, the constant pressure, the feeling you don’t belong in the place you fought so hard to get to”

Lewis turned to you, his full attention snapping into place, and it nearly made you regret opening your mouth. Nearly.

“These past two races, they were my tryouts for Ferrari’s trackside team,” you admitted. “And when we get back to the factory tomorrow, I have to give them an answer. Stay or go back to the factory.”

Lewis’s brows lifted slightly. “And?”

You exhaled. “I like it, being out there. It’s exhilarating. But… there’s so much I’d have to leave behind. My family, my life outside of this.” You shook your head. “If I follow the team around the world, I won’t see my dad as much. I won’t get to just… go home when I need to.”

Lewis studied you, nodding slightly. “You’re giving me the pros and cons,” he said after a beat. “But what does your gut tell you? What do you really want?”

Your mouth opened, then closed.

Oh, he’s good.

You hated how easily he saw through you, how he cut straight to the core of your hesitation. Because deep down, you knew the answer.

You let out a quiet breath. “I really like it here.”

Lewis’s lips curled slightly, like he knew you had always known but just needed to say it out loud.

Then you narrowed Your eyes at him. “You’re good at this.”

His smirk widened. “At what?”

“Making people admit to things they don’t want to but deep down need to.”

Lewis exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable. “Just so you know, that voice, telling you’re not good enough, never really goes away,” he admitted. “Not even after seven championships.”

Y/N let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head. “Great. Something to look forward to.”

That made him smile, but there was something else in his eyes now. A quiet kind of appreciation. Like he hadn’t expected you to understand, but you did.

And instead of dismissing what he felt, you had met him there.

He leaned back against the bar, watching you for a long moment before a small smirk pulled at his lips. “I had one night with you, and I’m already breaking every single one of my rules.”

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, playing along despite the sudden flip in your stomach. “Rules?”

His smirk widened. “I don’t open up like this.”

Your lips twitched. “Well…you were my first one-night stand, so I guess we’re even.”

Lewis blinked, looking genuinely caught off guard. “What?”

You shrugged, picking up a cocktail napkin and folding it absently.

For a second, he just stared at you, then let out a real, genuine laugh. The kind that cracked through the tension in the air and made something inside you ease.

“That makes this even more ironic.” he murmured, shaking his head.

Silence stretched between you two again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was fragile.

He looked away for a moment before speaking again. “I don’t even know what I want anymore. I think.”

You tilted your head, curiosity tugging. “You think?”

Lewis hesitated, then finally admitted, “I guess I just don’t want to feel like I’m chasing something that might not exist anymore.”

The honesty in his voice knocked the breath from your lungs. You had never seen this side of him before—unguarded, unsure.

You swallowed, then offered, “Maybe it’s not about chasing the same goal though, but finding something new worth fighting for.”

Lewis studied you for a long moment, a unreadable gaze “And for you? What’s worth fighting for?”

You hesitated, then smiled softly. "This dream… it isn’t just mine. My dad, my family—they sacrificed so much for me to be here. And I feel like if I don’t make it, I’m letting them down too."

Lewis nodded, understanding settling in his eyes in a way that made your chest tighten. Because you knew his story.

"I know what you mean," he murmured. " But sometimes, that weight… it gets heavy, doesn’t it?"

A small smirk tugged at your lips. “It does.”

The air between them shifted again, a thread pulling tighter, a connection neither of them had anticipated but couldn’t ignore. And for once, neither tried to fight it.

A sharp vibration startled you as your phone alarm went off, signaling the ungodly hour you had set to remind yourself to get some rest before the next travel day. You groaned, reaching to silence it before rubbing your temples.

Lewis glanced at you "Early flight?"

You nodded, stretching slightly. "Leaving tomorrow morning with the crew, heading back to the factory."

He hummed, taking a sip from his drink before setting the glass down. "Good luck on your decision"

You stood, smoothing down your shirt, trying to shake off the odd weight in your chest that came with the realization that whatever this moment was, it was ending—for now. "Guess I'll see you around."

Lewis looked up at your, his gaze lingering. "In Melbourne."

You gave him a small nod, and as you walked away, you found yourself wishing the same thing.

God help you. This man is going to be your end. And might even be mine.

______________________________________________________________

TAGLIST

@palefacestudentlove @omgsuperstarg @sltwins @lh44girl @freyathehuntress @irisesinthegarden @ncrsbrg

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #lewis hamilton #lh #lh44 #lewis #lewis x reader #lewis imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lh44 x reader #lh44 imagine #lewis hamilton x you

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minniiaa · 1 year ago

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Thank fucking god one piece tumblr is mostly a safe space because holy shit twitter is hell. These people bitching and moaning about Luffy laughing and being happy in G5 (AGAIN) saying it “ruins the story”

DO YOU MOTHERFUCKERS EVEN READ THE STORY? HE IS JOY. BOY. HE BRINGS JOY AND LAUGHTER TO THE PEOPLE THROUGH FREEDOM. DO YOU THINK HES JUST GONNA POP OFF ALL SERIOUS IN THIS FORM?

Luffy it at his freest in G5. He is overflowing with happiness as he uses his abilities to save and protect people. Why wouldn’t he be happy? We already had many arcs where Luffy was serious and even distraught when he couldn’t protect those he cared about. Those days are over and he now has the strength he always wanted. Let him be fucking happy. If you want to be miserable go read pre-TS and cry.

Now let’s be real. If you had all the powers in the world wouldn’t you do some wacky shit? I would be causing chaos and fucking around with anyone I could because it’s FUN. The Kaido fight had me smiling at my tv like a stupid idiot. I felt like I was a kid again watching Looney Tunes again (which I grew up on and loved dearly) Maybe these zoomer fucks have just never watched a cartoon in their life because their heads are too buried in their ipads or playing fortnite . Or flip side these people are just sad, lonely millennials and genx who are so dead inside they forgot what it’s like to be silly and joyful.

Also, the final island is called LAUGHtale. Rodger, King of the Pirates LAUGHED when he found the one piece. This whole beautiful decades spanning tale is ground in LAUGHTER. Don’t try to sully that just because you haven’t laughed in years and you hate your family and dead end job. Let others be happy. Try and be happy yourself. Go ahead, just laugh until you cry. You will be amazed at how good it makes you feel.

Yes I am mean, no I do not care. I am in my high tower of happiness and laughter enjoying life and my favorite series. If you want to be miserable and serious go watch/read jjk and don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out. We don’t need you and Oda doesn’t either ✌🏼

me laughing at the haters:

#every new chapter I mean to make this post #bc I’m going insane at this negativity #need Luffy to g5 these idiots into space so the vacumn can suck the life out of them #I’ll be the one laughing then #one piece #luffy #gear 5 #op #one piece rant #negativity #twitter #one piece memes

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cozylittleartblog · 2 months ago

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idk if I've said it before, but your portrayals of both Rouxls and Queen are among my favorites, and the way they are when you combine the two is the sole thing that got me to say "yes" to queenkaard. When I first saw it in the game and it started catching on as a ship, I was like "nooo I hc him as gay," but then after seeing your stuff I was like "oh nvm I totally see this now."

i think hearing "i didn't see this ship before, but after your art i understand it and/or even ship it myself" is one of the nicest compliments i get, because it makes me feel like i'm representing something meaningful and sweet about a pairing and having people understand what i think is so great and captivating about them. i've gotten a couple asks like this and sometimes i forget to respond but i always really appreciate them :) thank you very much

#ask #deltarune #queenkaard #rouxls kaard #queen #art #doodles #conkreetmonkey #i mean its fine to draw ship art Just Cuz dgmw but i have Paragraphs of reasons why i like All my ships and it feels really good when i can #help people see the reasons why i think characters are cute together and why they'd work #i love feeling like im Doing something with my art. expressing something. explaining something. makes it feel meaningful #esp when i thought queenkaard was very Out There at first dhbsdjbhf i was like 'dude theres only gonna be me and 2 other people #who ship this'. and there was at first. now people dont think its a rarepair. i built this city goddammit. me and like 2 other people 😭#and im only half joking. i drew them so much because nobody else was. its still a rarepair to me. the fanart and fanfics are still #kind of sparse besides me tbh. but a LOT of people say 'i ship it because of cozy' and that makes me happy #there Are a couple fanfics on ao3 i havent gotten to yet only bc ive been tizzy about the gay car this year but i will read them eventually #anyway i still really love queenkaard i miss the blue people i cant wait to draw them more once the new chapters release aaaaaa #also since i mentioned i dont always respond to asks: i still read each and every single one of them #im sorry if anyone ever sends me something and i didnt post it. sometimes i go on ask-reply sprees and sometimes it just gets #answered months later dhbdsbjf. but please dont ever think i dont care about what you have to say i love hearing from you guys #and sometimes i just Forgor because adhd go brrt

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quibbs126 · 1 year ago

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Do you ever have that situation where you just got into a series, and you want to speculate about it and/or analyze the characters, but also that means putting your thoughts out there to people who have been big fans of the series for years, and you just got here like a couple weeks ago at best? And so like, you don’t want to because you feel like some random dude who just showed up and inserted themselves into someone else’s conversation, and you have no right to talk about it with them? And so you don’t?

That’s me every time I get into a new fandom. And currently that’s Berserk for me

#I mean granted that hasn’t stopped me making posts about Berserk #honestly I feel like I don’t shut up about it #or that I just keep bringing it up and it annoys the people who were here for other stuff #and it’s not like I have many thoughts about it right this moment #but I feel like some guy who just showed up and started talking #though maybe some of it is that I don’t understand how the fan base works on here #I just go to tumblr for every fandom since it’s all I have I don’t know what fanbases are mainly where #I feel like the fandom is generally more quiet? Like there’s not as much discussion #though that could also be because there isn’t a new chapter right now and that’s when the fandom shows up #I dunno I’m rambling too much #but this happened to me for Layton and Cookie Run as well #at least in my head #anyways #berserk #random stuff #questions #I guess?

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jungwnies · 2 months ago

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F1 GRID | the end of the season '24

୨ৎ : featuring : max verstappen, lewis hamilton, george russell, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris, oscar piastri ୨ৎ : synopsis : quiet nights at the hotel after a long race

୨ৎ : genre : some are happy & some are sad ୨ৎ : tws : none ୨ৎ : word count : 2531

୨ masterlist ৎ

ᡣ𐭩 a/n : i am so proud of lando for being able to secure that wcc for mclaren, but i am SO sad seeing carlos drive in red for the last time, and seeing lewis have his last drive with mercedes :c

ʚ・max verstappen

the post-race buzz of abu dhabi had faded, leaving a quiet calm in max's hotel suite. he sprawled on the sofa, phone in hand, scrolling through memes with that trademark deadpan expression. p6 wasn't great—definitely not how he wanted to wrap the season—but the world championship trophy on his shelf said it all. he was untouchable, even on an off day.

you dropped onto the couch next to him, giving him a small smile. "not quite the result we were hoping for, huh?"

he tilted his head, barely fazed. "meh. one bad race doesn’t erase a good season." he tossed his phone onto the table, already over it. "at least now i don’t have to hear the word 'tyre degradation' for a while."

"exactly," you agreed, nudging his arm. "just endless beaches, lazy mornings, and maybe some sketchy tourist traps."

he smirked, his eyes lighting up for the first time all evening. "knowing you, that probably means camel racing or some falcon photo op where i end up holding a bird for instagram."

you laughed. "don’t pretend like you wouldn’t secretly enjoy it."

"maybe," he admitted with a faint grin. "but only if there’s good food after. priorities, you know?"

as you leaned into his side, you felt the tension melt away from him. the season was done, the pressure gone. and for once, max verstappen, the reigning world champion, was just a guy on a couch, ready to trade apexes for sunsets and podiums for bad tourist selfies.

ʚ・lewis hamilton

a bittersweet stillness filled the room—p4 after starting sixteenth was nothing short of remarkable, but tonight marked the end of an era. his last race with mercedes. the silver star that had defined his legacy, his dominance, was now in the rearview mirror.

you leaned into him, your head resting lightly on his shoulder. "what a drive, lewis," you murmured, pride laced in your voice. "it was magic out there, just like always."

he smiled faintly, his gaze fixed on the city lights beyond the window. "it felt good, you know? pushing through the field like that. it’s how i want to remember this team—fighting, always fighting." his voice was steady, but there was a weight behind it, a depth only you could hear.

"it’s hard to see this chapter end," you said softly, running your fingers along the edge of his hand. "so many years, so much history. but watching you today—watching you fight with every ounce of heart you’ve got—it’s impossible not to feel proud."

he turned to you then, his eyes warm, a quiet fire still flickering in them. "it’s sad, yeah. mercedes is family. but every journey has its end, and every end makes way for something new. it’s time. time for a new challenge."

you smiled, squeezing his hand. "and ferrari red will suit you, no doubt about it."

that earned a laugh from him, light but genuine, his shoulders finally easing. "we’ll see. it’ll be... different. but i’m ready for different. i have to be."

"you’ll thrive," you said, meeting his gaze with steady confidence. "because that’s who you are, lewis. you don’t just race—you redefine what’s possible."

he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "and having you by my side, that makes it all the better."

the evening stretched on as you reminisced about mercedes—about the victories, the struggles, the growth. there was sadness, yes, but also hope, an electric anticipation for the future. ferrari would be a new challenge, but lewis hamilton was built for challenges. and you? you’d be there, through it all, cheering him on as he wrote the next chapter of his already legendary story.

ʚ・george russell

the air in george’s hotel room was thick with emotions. lewis—his teammate, his mentor, his benchmark—was leaving for ferrari. the weight of it sat heavily on his shoulders, a silent pressure he hadn’t quite found the words to unpack.

you settled beside him on the bed, your hand resting lightly on his back. "you drove brilliantly today, george," you said softly, your tone filled with pride.

he gave you a faint smile, though his usual spark was dimmed. "thanks. it’s just... weird, you know? lewis not being here next season. he's been... well, everything. a teammate, a rival, someone to learn from."

"it’s a huge change," you agreed, your voice gentle. "but today, you showed exactly what you’re made of. you didn’t just race—you fought, george. and everyone saw it."

he turned to look at you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. "but can i really lead this team now? without him?"

you met his gaze firmly, your conviction unwavering. "you don’t have to be lewis, george. you’ve already proven you're your own kind of leader—sharp, determined, and always hungry for more. you don’t need to fill anyone’s shoes because you’re carving out your own legacy."

his shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension giving way to a spark of confidence. "it’s just... lewis set such a high bar. and stepping into that space—it’s a lot."

"you don’t need to step into his space," you reminded him with a reassuring smile. "you’ve earned your own, george. you’ve fought for it, and you’re more than ready to take the reins."

he took a deep breath, the weight on his chest easing as resolve began to take its place. "this is my chance, isn’t it? to really prove myself."

"absolutely," you said, squeezing his hand. "and i’ll be right here, every step of the way, cheering for you."

his smile widened, more genuine this time, and he leaned in to kiss you softly. "thank you, love" he murmured. "that means everything."

as the night stretched on, you stayed by his side, feeling his determination grow stronger with each passing moment. george russell was ready to rise, ready to lead, and ready to show the world exactly why he belonged at the front of the pack. and you couldn’t wait to witness it all.

ʚ・carlos sainz

arlos sank onto the balcony of his hotel suite, the cool night air brushing against his skin, a sharp contrast to the adrenaline and heat of the race. it his last race with ferrari, the team that had become more than a job.

you slipped behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, resting your chin lightly on him. "carlos," you said softly, your voice thick with emotion, "you were amazing today. truly incredible."

he let out a quiet sigh, leaning back into your embrace, his eyes fixed on the city lights. "yeah, it was a good one. but leaving ferrari? that’s… it’s hard. really hard."

"i know," you murmured, your cheek pressing against his. "you and charles, ferrari… it felt like it fit, like it was meant to be."

he nodded slowly, a small, wistful smile tugging at his lips. "we were a good team, weren’t we? two competitive guys who somehow managed not to kill each other every weekend," he joked, though his voice carried a faint sadness. "but, ah, next season? it’s going to feel strange not seeing his stupid smile in the garage."

you chuckled softly. "but you’ll always have the memories," you reminded him. "and you’ll make new ones, new rivalries, new podiums."

he turned to look at you, his warm brown eyes meeting yours. "do you remember my first race with ferrari?" he asked, a grin breaking through the sadness. "lando was on the podium with me. and now he’s here again for my last one. crazy, no?"

"it’s like the universe has a sense of humor," you said, your smile mirroring his. "full circle moments like that don’t just happen by chance."

he laughed softly, his shoulders relaxing a bit. "yeah, maybe. or maybe it’s just one of those little things that reminds me to enjoy the journey."

you held him close, knowing how much leaving ferrari meant to him. the passion, the heart, the pure determination he’d poured into every single lap. but you also knew that carlos was unstoppable—wherever he went, whatever he faced, he would find his way to the top.

"wherever you go, whatever happens," you said, your voice steady and filled with love, "i’ll be right there, cheering you on."

his arms wrapped around you, pulling you in tightly. "i know," he whispered, his voice thick with gratitude. "and that’s what keeps me grounded. thank you, mi amor."

ʚ・charles leclerc

the roar of the abu dhabi crowd had faded, leaving only the soft hum of the air conditioning in charles’ hotel room. he sat on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on the trophy for his third-place finish. starting p19 after that engine penalty, clawing his way up to the podium—it was an extraordinary drive. but there was a weight in his gaze, a shadow of disappointment.

you sat beside him, your hand finding his. "charles," you said gently, your voice full of admiration, "that was incredible. you were on fire out there."

he offered a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "it wasn’t enough," he muttered, his voice heavy with frustration. "we were so close to the WCC... but mclaren just had too much."

"you did everything you could," you assured him, squeezing his hand. "no one could have driven that race better. you started from the back, charles. and you still ended up on the podium. that’s... that’s amazing."

he ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. "i know, i know. it's just hard. we were so close. it stings."

you gently cupped his face, lifting his chin so his eyes met yours. "charles leclerc, you are one of the best out there. don’t let this one race make you forget everything you've accomplished this season. you fought for every position, you never gave up, and you made us all proud."

a real smile tugged at his lips, the weight on his shoulders easing slightly. "thank you," he whispered, leaning into your touch. "i needed that."

there was a brief pause, and a flicker of sadness passed through his eyes. "it’s gonna be strange without carlos next year," he said quietly, his voice low.

you felt a pang for him. you knew how close he and carlos were, both on and off the track. "i know," you murmured, your heart aching. "but you'll still have him as a friend. and you’ll both keep achieving incredible things."

he nodded slowly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "he’s like a brother to me. it won’t be the same without him."

you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close. "i know it won’t," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. "but i know you ,charles. you'll adapt. you’ll keep shining."

he held you tighter, drawing comfort from your embrace, "what would i do without you mon amour."

you let out a soft laugh and place a gentle peck on his lips, "you'd probably be a mess without me, i love you."

"i love you too." he told you, snuggling closer.

ʚ・lando norris

the echoes of the abu dhabi celebrations had finally faded, leaving a peaceful quiet in lando's hotel suite. he was sprawled on the sofa, the trophy resting on his chest, his eyes half-closed as a contented sigh escaped his lips. the excitement from the victory was still buzzing inside him, but a calm had settled in, like he was finally letting everything sink in.

you curled up beside him, your finger tracing the lines of the trophy. "still can't believe it, huh?" you whispered, a soft smile on your face.

lando chuckled, a grin tugging at his lips. "yeah, it's still kinda crazy. like, i feel like i'm dreaming, but don't wanna wake up."

"you were amazing today, lando," you said, your voice filled with pride. "and the whole season, really. you led mclaren to victory. it’s historic."

he grinned, his eyes lighting up. "yeah, it really is, isn’t it? bringing mclaren back to the top after all this time... feels unreal. but in the best way possible."

"you deserve all the praise," you reassured him, snuggling closer. "you’ve worked so hard, and you’ve grown so much as a driver. i'm so proud of you."

he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you in closer. "couldn’t have done it without you, honestly," he murmured, his voice warm. "you’ve been with me through all of it—my biggest supporter."

"and i always will be," you promised, feeling your heart swell. "through the wins, the losses, i’ll be right here."

he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft kiss. "and that's all i need," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

as you lay together, bathed in the soft glow of the hotel room lights, the weight of his achievement settled in. lando norris, the man who led mclaren to the top of the world again, securing the WCC after 26 years. this moment, this victory, would be something you both would remember forever. the future was bright, and you couldn’t wait for the next adventure—together.

ʚ・oscar piastri

back in the comfort of his hotel room, oscar kicked back with a grin plastered on his face, the adrenaline from the race replaced by his usual playful energy. p10 wasn’t the podium he’d wanted, but who cared? mclaren had just clinched the WCC, and that was more than enough for him.

“we did it!” he shouted, arms thrown up in the air, his grin wider than ever. “champions, baby!”

you chuckled, shaking your head at his excitement. “you guys were incredible today, oscar. especially lando, bringing home the win.”

“yeah, lando was on fire!” oscar agreed, grabbing a celebratory drink from the minibar. “though, i wouldn’t mind a podium myself…” he paused, a glint of mischief lighting up his eyes. “if it weren’t for someone deciding to use my car as a brake early on.”

you raised an eyebrow, trying to hide your smile. “ah, yes. max verstappen. saw that incident. bit of a rough start, huh?”

“rough is putting it lightly,” oscar grumbled with a smirk, taking a swig of his drink. “the guy treated me like a bowling pin! swear i saw stars, maybe even a few constellations.”

“well, you can’t deny it made for some exciting racing,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

“exciting for you, maybe,” he shot back with a grin. “i was just trying to survive out there! dodging debris, angry drivers... felt like a demolition derby.”

“but you made it through,” you pointed out. “and you contributed to the team’s victory. that’s what counts.”

he gave a dramatic nod, his humor returning full force. “true, true. who needs a podium when you’ve got bragging rights for surviving a verstappen torpedo?”

you burst out laughing, unable to hold back. “that’s the spirit babe."

as laughter filled the room, you couldn’t help but admire oscar’s resilience and ability to keep things light, even when things didn’t go his way. he might’ve been a little salty about the verstappen incident, but he was genuinely happy for the team, and that’s what made him such an asset. next season was going to be one to remember, and you couldn’t wait to see what this rising star would achieve.

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fangbanger3000 · 15 days ago

Text

we need to talk about The Silence and The Song

[PLEASE READ] edit to add: i realise that this post has been reblogged far and wide and that there is not a lot i can do about it now, but this is me trying anyway.

posting examples from the fic about my issues with its repetitive structure was careless of me, and i apologise to those of you who read it and became insecure about your own writing style. as someone who has worked with ai in academic settings, it's incredibly difficult for me to explain to you how the tone and structure of ai-generated fiction works and how, after reading enough of it, you can simply just tell. i do also realise that this is an incredibly weak argument, which is why i didn't include it when i originally wrote this post.

all that to say: there is an enormous difference between "beginner's writing" and ai writing. being repetitive as a new writer (or a seasoned one who just likes using repetition) is so normal. as is flowery/purple language. i've read hundreds of books and fics and the difference between these traits in ai-text and actual works is starkly clear. please don't feel anxious over the examples i've used in this post.

again, i apologise for any distress i have caused.

as per my last post, i have received a lot of encouragement to go public with this, and the more disappointed people i have in my dms, the angrier i get. so i will.

the silence and the song is an ancient arlathan au DA fic on ao3 by luxannaslut, and it is partly, if not entirely, written by an ai. i have no wish to be involved in any kind of fandom drama or witch hunting or bullying, but as a writer myself there are few things that piss me off more than watching people steal the work of others because they can't be fucked to write. it's disrespectful to your fellow writers, it's disrespectful to your readers, and it's disrespectful to the authors of the works the ai is stealing from.

ai is a plague that has no business being in creative spaces and you must do better.

the writing pattern

there was something very odd and monotone about the sentence structure of tsats that i couldn't quite place, so i fed chatgpt a prompt along the lines of "two people in a fantasy novel hate each other, but they secretly desire one another, and they kiss", and the screenshots above are the results. the third one is an excerpt from chapter 40 of tsats. the writing pattern is identical and it doesn't seem like the "writer" has even bothered to pretend they wrote it. if you're going to use ai, at least be sneaky about it. you know, paraphrase a little.

nonsense descriptions

"her nimble fingers worked with quiet precision" (ct. 1), "his grip firm but tender" (ct. 33), "her gown pooling around her like embers" (ct. 1).

fingers don't make sound, so what does quiet precision mean? as opposed to what? her joints cracking with every movement? how is a grip firm but tender? what does that mean? since when do embers pool?

the entire fic is littered with these adjectives that contradict each other or just straight up do not make sense, because all an ai does is generate descriptive language with no understanding of what the words it's spitting out actually mean. i could spend hours picking out examples from the seven billion pages worth of text, but i quite frankly have better things to do and would simply challenge you to try getting through a chapter or two without noticing the pattern.

repetition at structure-level

all the scenes in this fic are described in pretty much the same way. they open with purple prose vomit of the surroundings; solas is standing somewhere looking "unreadable as ever"; ellana's fiery golden molten fire copper ember ginger red hair is flowing this and that way; there's some dialogue with whoever is present and it leaves ellana feeling different variations of "something she couldn't name". this is, once again, a blatantly obvious sign of ai. below is the result of me feeding chatgpt the line "write me a scene from a fantasy novel where a woman with red hair is sitting on the ground in a magical garden at night", and side by side with that is the opening scene of the fic. make your own judgement.

repetition at word-level

this one speaks for itself. we fucking get it. her dress is orange, her hair is red, mythal's presence is heavy in the room, solas looks unreadable, compassion is sitting on her head like a crown, solas' ears are betraying him and ellana's move with every thought she thinks. we get it. the issue here is that an ai remembers the info you feed it, but not necessarily the info it shits out. if it's being told to write scene after scene of an elven woman with a gown that looks like fire doing xyz, it's going to do so with no regard for how many times the reader has already been informed of these details.

lastly: the breakneck speed

359,6k words in four weeks by a person who allegedly is employed and married and hasn't pre-written anything? no. any writer will tell you that this simply isn't possible. it absolutely infuriates me to see how much praise this "writer" gets for posting up to three full chapters in a day without anyone calling bullshit. i am pulling out my hair, you guys.

why i'm not going to live and let live this one

perhaps i would be less angry if the fic was some silly bullshit court intrigue Y/A stuff, but this is a text that handles very heavy and triggering topics such as SA, coercion, domestic abuse, and other things of the same vein. to sit back and put your feet up while having a robot write these extremely sensitive and very real human experiences with words it has stolen from texts written by actual persons is fucking heinous. the "writer" should be deeply ashamed of themselves and i'm sick and tired of watching people eat up their bs.

and on that note: the amount of people in my dm's telling me that they feel stupid and naive for not clocking this has infuriated me more than anything else. you're not foolish for this. being fed ai-generated bullshit is not what is supposed to happen on any creative platform and much less a fandom-centred one, so of course no one approaches a fic through that lens. fandom and fic writing is supposed to be about passion and the only person in this situation who needs to do better and change their behaviour is luxannaslut. polluting our creative spaces, wasting the time of your readers, and minimising the effort of actual writers who are working hard to provide content for us all to share and enjoy is vile and so, so lazy. i beg of you: do better.

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capseycartwright · 8 days ago

Note

What do you mean by the contentification of fic? Just curious as to why you think it’s bad!

ok i warned you this might be a bit old man screaming at the sky but you asked i shall answer

i think this trend i have seen a lot on specifically twitter lately where people are like “will post the fic when i get x number of new followers!” or “x number of likes and I’ll drop the chapter” is an incredibly depressing indictment of how even creative spaces like fic writing are being overrun by what i feel is a capitalism driven desire to contentify and ultimately commodify your every hobby and interest (aka when people are like omg you crochet start a tiktok business but with fic)

there’s nothing wrong with promoting your fic - we all do it and we should all promo our work when it’s live - but i find it hard to stomach this new trend where people are effectively holding back their work until they hit certain follower goals or numbers of likes. it doesn’t make me feel like you’re writing for the love of it or for the love of the characters - more that you’re writing for the attention and the potential following it will give you.

and listen, there’s nothing inherently wrong with desiring attention, but this contentification of fic where it’s being used as a tool to build your online following makes me feel mega icky. promo your fic to your hearts content but if you’re going to be like will post this fic when i get 300 new followers!!! it makes me immediately distrustful of the motivations behind you writing fic. you know? you should write because you love it. not because it gets you twitter followers and you crave a cult of your own or whatever.

and my hot and controversial take is that you can tell who’s writing and posting fic because they want to gain traction on twitter (the above mentioned contentification) and those who write because they love the characters. motivation shows in your words more than you realise.

#it just feels incredibly heartless to me i guess #maybe it’s just me. but it doesn’t make me happy #in which i ramble #asks #anon

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hottiesforhockey · 3 months ago

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may the best brother win pt. 1 ⎜hughes brothers

pairings: quinn hughes x afab!reader ⎜luke hughes x afab!reader ⎜ jack hughes x afab!reader ⎜ genre: romance ⎜bachelorette-esque situations ⎜angst? ⎜friends - to - lovers warnings: mentions of lack of experience with dating ⎜mentions of a bet / competition⎜friendly love-hate relationship ⎜ synopsis: you have been friends with the hughes brothers for years - but why does this summer feel so different? word count: 4.2k authors note: this is the first part in my new series on my new blog!! 🎉 I hope you all enjoy. this will be coming out in 3-4 parts so each brother will have his own chapter let me know what you think the other brother would do for their date. (p.s. i will be posting chapter aesthetic pics at the bottom so you can get an idea of what I was picturing :) ) pt 1 ⎜pt 2 ⎜ pt 3 ⎜

(unedited)

The Hughes brothers had made a name for themselves over the past few years.

Professional athletes.

All top ten overall draft picks.

Captain of the Vancouver Canucks.

Hotshot forward for the New Jersey Devils.

And the rising star defensemen in the league.

They had certainly found a way to make every parent look at their own kid and wonder where they went wrong.

But no one really knew what absolute imbeciles the Hughes brothers truly were.

“If you put down the pan, I’ll drop your phone.” Jack negotiates, his hands in the air, your phone swinging from the tips of his fingers. You glance down at your right hand, the cast iron pan gripped tightly before shooting your gaze back to Jack, whose face scrunches when he realises you’re not going to concede that easily.

“I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal. You got secrets to hide or something?” Jack continues flipping the phone into his hand as he tries another passcode for the fifteenth time.

“None of your business, Jack.” You sneer, lunging for the phone again, only for the hockey player to slip just slightly out of reach, his steps backing him towards the staircase.

Fuck, he’s gonna make a run for it.

“Just tell me what you’re hiding from me, and I’ll give you the phone back.” He quips

“Or I could knock you on your ass with a metal pan.” You respond, your gaze shooting up as you look at the man approaching from behind him. The phone is expertly snatched from Jack’s hands as he lets out a long whine in protest, his lips dropping into a pout as he watches his younger brother gently hand you back your phone.

“Maybe she’s got a boyfriend and doesn’t want you to ruin it for her.” Luke teases, giving you a smile as you mouth ‘thank you’ at him, holding your phone close to your chest.

“If we weren’t forced to be friends, I wouldn’t think twice about dropping you.” You hiss, pointing an accusatory finger in the thief’s direction before following his younger brother into the kitchen.

“You would tell me though, right?” Jack’s voice carries as he follows you and Luke into the room “like if you were seeing someone, you’d tell us?” He continues - sliding into one of the bar stools at the counter, dropping his chin into his hands. “You wouldn’t hide something like that?” You frown at Jack, tilting your head in confusion as Luke bustles about the kitchen pulling out the extra large party pack of chips and a freshly made container of salsa.

“Why would I not hide something like that?” You question back, your words making Luke’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he shoves a chip in his mouth, “I mean you guys hide your relationships all the time - isn’t it normal at this age?” You add quickly noticing the way Jack’s face drops a little.

“From the public.” Luke notes quickly, before dipping another chip into the salsa.

“We don’t hide things from you.” Jack says softly, sliding off his seat and making his way out of the kitchen leaving your standing there in confusion.

“Don’t look at me, I just want to eat my chips.” Luke huffs when you turn to glance up at him, his shoulders shrugging as the eldest of you walking in from the backyard, a towel wrapped around his waist, water already soaking through his t-shirt.

“What did I miss?” Quinn questions, as you groan and reach over stealing a handful of chips from the bag.

“Nothing.” You huff, drawing yourself in salty goodness.

“She has a boyfriend.” Luke says, letting out a groan as you shove your elbow into his side.

“And you didn’t tell us?” Quinn asks, his head tilted as your frown deepens.

“I don’t have a boyfriend, it was a hypothetical.” You shoot a glare at Luke, pointing your finger up at him, “consider us enemies now, Warren.”

“Anyway, she thinks it would be normal for her to hide a relationship from us if she was in one, and Jack got all pissy because we don’t keep secrets from each other.” Luke shakes his head at your warning, handing you the bag as you go to reach for more chips.

“Well the point is moot, because I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah but how can we trust you now, you’ve been suspected as a liar and essentially confirmed you would if you could.” Quinn argues, leaning forwards on the kitchen counter with a teasing grin.

“I can one hundred percent confirm that I do not in any way shape or form have a boyfriend.” You swear, holding one hand against your chest and the other in the air, the two boys smiling as they watch your oath, “Besides I’ve never even been on a real date let alone had a relationship.” You sneer, shoving another chip in your mouth as the room falls silent.

“What?’ Quinn is the one who breaks the silence, standing up straight as his brows furrow.

“Huh?” You pause your motions.

“You’ve never been on a date?”

“You’ve never had a boyfriend?” The two brothers ask at the same time, both glancing at each other before looking back at you. “But you’ve brought people home, I’ve seen you.” Quinn continues, the bag of chips forgotten on the counter as you look around for an escape route.

“Firstly, don’t be a creeper and secondly I said I’m a dating virgin, Quinn, not a virgin virgin.” You snort, slowly side stepping the tallest brother as you beeline for the backdoor, hearing Quinn call out after you.

“Luke go get Jack, it seems the four of us have some talking to do.”

“So it’s in agreement.” Jack says as you all sit around the pool, your legs swishing the water as you grumble under your breath. “We are going to woo you, give you the real dating experience.”

“I don’t understand why this has to happen at all.”

“Because we will show you how you should be treated on date, and in turn you can tell us who is the best dater” Jack explains, his brothers nodding in agreement as you let out another long groan.

“So you’re the ones actually using me, don’t think I can’t read between the lines, Rowden.” You huff, slipping your legs out of the pool and standing in your spot. “You are using me to settle a bet aren’t you?”

“There may be something like that.” Luke admits softly, his own legs dipped into the water as he ignores the dirty glare Jack sends him.

“Well now the cats out of the bag, may the best brother win.” The four of you are silent for a moment, each seeming to be deep in thought before Luke cuts in.

“How do we decide who goes first?”

“I suppose I should go first, considering it was my idea.” Jack responds, nodding his head in determination as he glances down at his watch before looking back towards you.

“I’ll pick you up at six.” He says quickly ripping his phone out of his pocket and typing away quickly.

“We live in the same house.”

“Just be ready.” He yells as he presses his phone to his ear, talking softly into the device as he leaves the house, his keys pressed tightly in his hand.

“I’m going to regret agreeing to this aren’t I?” You ask the other two, both of them just giving soft shrugs.

“It might end up being fun.” Luke says, pulling his own phone out of his pocket pulling up google as he scrolls through his search results. You watch as Quinn stands from the deck chair rounding the pool behind you, his hands placed gently on your waist as he squeezes past, his lips pressed to your ear as he whispers, “we’re definitely going to have fun.”

You shiver slightly as Quinn lets your waist go, the sudden rush of warm air behind you making goosebumps rise on your arms.

“So, do you have anything you’re hoping for in particular?” Luke asks slowly, a sly smile on his face, as he waits expectedly for your answer. You let out a soft sigh, pushing some loose hair away from your face, “Honestly, I don’t really know, I just wanted a quiet summer, I wasn’t really expecting to be apart of a hometown bachelorette.”

“Think of it more as a chance to see what you want from a date, besides competition can be fun sometimes.” Luke responds, quickly adding, “And you can’t complain you love the bachelor.” You roll your eyes at his words but can’t help to small smile tugging at your lips.

“God I hate when you’re right.”

You flatten out your light green summer dress against your thighs as you look at the reflection in the mirror, jumping a little at a heavy knock on your bedroom door. “There’s someone here for you.” Luke says as he pops his head through the slightly opened door, his mouth dropping open a little as he looks at your reflection.

“Do you think this is okay?” You start turning to face him, tucking your hair behind your ears as you chew on your bottom lip. “I don’t know where he’s taking me, and I thought something cute but function—”

“It’s perfect.” Luke cuts you off straightening his posture before clearing his throat and adding, “You look perfect.” Luke looks away from you his neck burning a bright red as he clears his throat again.

“Thanks, Lukey.” You coo as you pull your handbag off the bed patting his shoulder as you squeeze past him to leave your bedroom, quickly making your way downstairs skidding to a halt in front of the shoe bench by the front door - pulling on your black and white converse before making your way towards the voices in the kitchen.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going or not?” You mumble as you stop by the counter double checking that you had everything you might need in your purse.

“No that would ruin the surprise and if I tell you then it’ll take away half the fu— holy shit.” Your head shoots up at Jack’s interruption of himself, his mouth open in surprise his brother watching amused as he sputters.

“Yes?” You question, glancing over at Quinn who glances between you and his bewildered younger brother before sending you an entertained grin.

“You’re wearing that?” Jack stumbles.

“What, you don’t like it?” You tease.

“No, I do.” Jack rubs a hand down his face, his younger brother giving him a knowing pat on the back as he walks past him to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Should I change? I don’t want you to be distracted on our date.” You coo, slipping your purse higher on your shoulder as you glance down at your outfit again.

Maybe it is a little too much.

I mean it’s not like it’s a real date, and the low cut of the dress is going to make things difficult if he’s taking you to do an activity.

Jack can see your mind start to spin, your teeth digging into your low lip as you adjust the dress a few times, your shoulder sinking as you suddenly become too aware of yourself.

“Nope, nope. We don’t have time for you to change.” Jack interrupts your thought spiral, reaching forwards to clasp your hand in his, “I think I can make this work.” He says, taking one more long look down your body, working his hardest to hold in a grown before shooting a look at his older brother.

“We will be home late. Don’t wait up.” He yells as he drags you toward the front door, not giving either of his brothers time to respond as he slams it shut behind the two of you, ushering you to his car, opening the door for you as you slip inside.

“Jack maybe I should change.” You grumble, crossing your arms over your chest as he slips into the drivers seat, his gaze flicking down to your bare legs, before focusing out the windscreen.

“No.” He says quickly, moving to pull on his own seatbelt before glancing over at you, noticing your belt not pulled over your chest. “We have places to be, my dear.” He adds, reaching over the centre console to grab hold of your seat belt, his hair tickling the side of your face as he pulls it over your chest, clicking the buckle into the slot, before dropping back into his own seat.

“We’re on a slight time crunch.” He admits, glancing down at his watch before putting the car in reverse and backing out of the driveway.

You can’t help but laugh at his urgency. “You sound like you’re leaving the scene of a crime or something.”

Jack chuckles, his eyes lighting up as he navigates the streets, “Well you never know when the cops are going to show up. I’m just trying to keep the night alive.”

“Oh, is that what’s happening?” You respond, glancing out the window at the familiar neighbourhood passing by - Jack’s quick, snarky responses helping ease a little bit of tension.

“Oh yeah, this whole thing is going to be the best date you’ve ever had.”

“It’s the only date I’ve ever had.” You correct quickly, noticing the quick and very dramatic eye roll from Jack as he takes a familiar turn. “Is this leading to the lake?” Your question is ignored another turn onto a quieter street making you shoot a quick glance over to the man besides you, a knowing brow raised.

“Stop trying to ruin the surprise.” He groans.

“What if I don’t like surprises?” You huff, Jack letting out another groan, the smile on his face growing as he slows the car to a stop.

“Trust me, you’ll like this one.” He says as he turns off the ignition, sliding out of the car as he races around to your side, quickly yanking the door open before you get a chance to open it yourself. “My lady.” He says as he offers you a hand to help you out of the car.

You can see the sun descending in the sky as you adjust your dress, watching as Jack shoves the car door closed before holding out his hand for you to take. “Have you brought me here to murder me?” You joke, looking out to the lake, the sun setting a golden glow to the water, Jack’s squeezing yours as he swings them between the two of you.

“Hmmmm, undecided.” He hums - his steps slowing as you take in the set up before you.

The plaid picnic blanket laid on the soft grass, a large assortment of snack laid across the mat as well as two canvases and some paints in the middle. “These are for you.” Jack says as he lets go of your hand to reach down to the picnic blanket picking up the bouquet of daisies sitting on top of the picnic basket, holding them out to you with a wide grin.

“Oh my god, Jack.” You gasp taking in the set up basked in the warm glow of the sunset with a look of awe, quickly taking the flowers from his hands to lift to your nose. “I didn’t know your brain could even imagine something this romantic.” You tease as he ushers you forwards onto the picnic mat, taking the spot opposite you as he lets out a soft chuckle at your words.

“Well I’m glad I can still surprise you after so long.” He says pulling two champagne glasses from the basket, reaching in to pull out a bottle of freshly squeezed lemonade.

“No, seriously Jack this is amazing.” You continue, gratefully accepting a glass of lemonade from him, taking a long sip as you stretch out your legs.

“Just wait until you see desert.” He says with a mischievous grin, clinking his non-alcoholic beverage against yours, ��to spontaneous adventures.” He says.

“To spontaneous adventures.” You echo, feeling the warmth of the setting sun wash over you as you settle more onto the blanket, taking in the scene again in amazement. “So are we just gonna sit here or are we going to do some painting?” You ask.

“Let’s eat some snacks first.” Jack says, picking some cheese and crackers off the charcuterie board before popping them into his mouth and motioning for you to do the same. The tension you felt earlier melts away with each shared smile and joke.

“So tell me honestly,” you start, swallowing what’s left of the food in your mouth before continuing. “What inspired this whole set up? I mean a picnic and painting, seems a little out of the ordinary.”

Jack leans forwards, a mock-serious look on his face as he speaks, “Well I realised we’ve spent so much time together as friends, I want to see if I could pull of something a little more… special?” He pauses for a moment sensing the shift as he adds, “Besides, I’ve always wanted to paint a sunset.”

You raise an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto your lips. “You wanted to impress me with your artistic side? Are you sure you’re not just trying to cover up your terrible drawing skills?”

He throws his head back and laughs, the sound rich and contagious. “Fair point! But I’m confident in my abilities. Just wait until you see my masterpiece!”

With a sense of excitement bubbling in your chest, you reach for one of the canvases and set it on the blanket. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got, Picasso.”

“Watch and learn,” he says dramatically, picking up a brush and swirling it through the paint. You can’t help but giggle at his theatrics as he begins to paint, his tongue poking out in concentration.

As you start to create your own piece, you steal glances at him, noticing the way the setting sun casts a golden light on his face, highlighting his features in a way that makes your heart flutter. You can’t help but feel that this moment is something special—something more than just a casual outing.

“Okay, time’s up!” Jack declares after a few minutes, throwing down his brush. “Let’s see what we’ve created.”

You both hold up your canvases, and the sight makes you burst into laughter. His painting is a chaotic blend of colors that vaguely resembles the sunset, while yours is a collection of abstract shapes and splashes that, while lacking realism, feels vibrant and alive.

“It’s… unique,” you say, struggling to contain your giggles.

“Just like us,” he replies, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

As you both continue to joke and critique each other’s work, the last rays of sunlight disappear, leaving a deepening twilight around you.

“Hey,” Jack says, his voice softer now. “I’m really glad you’re here. This was my favorite idea yet.”

“Mine too,” you admit, your heart swelling at his sincerity. “Thank you for putting all this together. It’s perfect.”

He leans a little closer, the air between you charged with an unspoken tension. “Just wait until the stars come out. I think I have one more surprise.”

“Another surprise?” you ask, intrigued. “You’re going to give me a heart attack at this rate.”

He chuckles, then reaches into the basket, pulling out a small, twinkling string of lights. “I thought we could add some ambiance.”

Your eyes widen in delight as he begins to drape the lights around the picnic setup, the soft glow illuminating your surroundings. It transforms the scene, creating an intimate atmosphere that feels like it’s straight out of a movie. As the stars begin to twinkle above, you lean back on your hands, stealing glances at Jack, who’s focused intently on arranging the lights. There’s a warmth in your chest, a budding hope that maybe this night could lead to something more.

“Alright, now for the grand finale,” he says, turning to you with a playful grin. “Dessert time!”

You sit up, your curiosity piqued. “What did you bring?”He rummages through the basket, finally producing a small cake adorned with whipped cream and strawberries. “Tada! Strawberry shortcake. Thought it would be fitting.”

Your eyes light up. “You really went all out, huh?”

“Only the best for you,” he repeats, handing you a slice before cutting himself a piece. The two of you dig into the soft cake, watching as the sun disappears behind the houses, the start shining a bright white as you finish off the dessert, the side of your face burning.

Turning your head slowly, to glance towards Jack you’re surprised when you eyes meet his, his gaze travelling over your face before he tilts his head, putting his empty plate down besides him and shuffling forwards on the picnic mat, his hand reaching out towards your face.

“Here, you have a little bit of cream on your chin.” He whispers, his body radiating warmth as his finger gently swipe just below your lip, your body shivering slightly as he pulls his thumb away dipping it his mouth quickly to get rid of any evidence of the food he just removed from your face. “Are you cold? Maybe we should start heading back?” He says quickly, his eyes locked with yours as your shake your head quickly.

“I don’t think the cold is the problem.” You try to joke, your hesitant chuckle getting caught in your throat as Jack’s eye light in knowing.

“Oh.” He says softly, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid air as he contemplates the choices he has - your body frozen as you wait for him to decide. “Is it weird to kiss on the first date?” He asks nervously, your shoulders shrugging as you respond.

“You tell me, Jack.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He whispers, his body shifting closer ever so slightly as he hand reaches up to cup the side of your neck, your eyes searching his.

“You’re not.” You say softer then you thought was possible, the anticipation building in the bit of your stomach, his thumb rubbing soft circles against the burning skin on your neck. Jack pauses for just a moment before leaning forwards to close this distance, his lips capturing yours in a kiss so soft you barely even register that they’re touching.

You sigh into his mouth as your hand reaches up to cup the side of his jaw, your movements all the permission he needs to press his lips firmer against yours as his other hand reaches up to cup the other side of your neck, his thumbs gliding along the underside of your jaw, his hands pulling you closer towards him as your lips move in sync.

“Wait.” He says softly as he pulls away, his hands moving up to cup your cheeks, as he smiles, leaning forwards to press one more chaste kiss against your mouth before releasing you, and letting out a shuddered breath. “The mosquitos are gonna come out soon, we should head home.” He says, and you nod, your lips still tingling from where his lips were pressed against them, your head nodding as Jack makes quick work of packing up the date.

His hands held out to help you up off the ground as he folds the blanket up quickly, rushing to bring everything to his car and shove it into his trunk. You meet him at his car, pressing your lips together to try and ease the swelling you know will be starting to show.

“Well, if I don’t win this competition, I’m gonna say it’s rigged.” Jack jokes as he closes the trunk of his car running a hand through his hair as his words give your pause.

The bet.

You forgot about the stupid fucking bet with his brothers.

“Oh.” You laugh, tucking your hair behind your ears in embarrassment.

How could you forget about the whole reason he was doing this?

The only reason he was doing this.

“Yeah, I don’t know how they’re going to top that performance.” You let out another tense laugh as you open your own passenger door and slide into the car - trying to ignore the way Jack tilts his head in confusion at your sudden shift.

“You feeling okay?” He asks as he follows you into the car.

“Yeah, just really tired all of a sudden.”

“We better get you home then.” Jack’s smile is gentle, as he places his hand on the head rest of your seat before reversing back onto the main road - your body folding in on itself as he makes quick work of the drive home - his hand resting awkwardly between the two of you, as if he was waiting for something.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jack asks as he pulls into the driveway, killing the ignition of the car before turning to face you, “That kiss didn’t make things weird did it?”

“No, Jack.” You say quickly, adding “It’s just part of the competition, right?” You don’t glance at him as you let yourself out of the car, hurrying back inside to escape to your room.

Stupid fucking competition.

#nhl #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes smut #luke hughes smut #quinn hughes smut #series #may the best brother win

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h0neylevi · 6 months ago

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Levi Month - Day 21 (Post-War: Children)

cw: canonverse/post-war, written with fem!reader in mind, suggestive sexual content, established relationship, mostly domestic fluff

word count: 857

“I found condoms in Falco’s room today.”

You peek over the top of your book to find Levi frowning in the bathroom doorway.

He had quietly retreated into the room several minutes ago for his usual nighttime routine, leaving you with the job of locking up and shutting off the lights. If relinquishing that task hadn’t been enough to clue you in that something was wrong, the familiar little scrunch of concern that is now etched between his eyebrows says everything. He’s worried.

Despite his obvious displeasure, the revelation still makes you smile. It isn’t the news necessarily–that isn’t as shocking to you as it apparently is to Levi. You’ve witnessed enough by accident of Gabi and Falco hurriedly pulling away from one another in the empty kitchen to know that something was going on.

But the second bedroom–first door on the left down the hall–is actually a guest bedroom. In the years since you and Levi have relocated and the restoration project began, a number of people have used it–Connie, Jean, Onyankopon, even you–but it seems that Levi has subconsciously deemed it Falco’s. It’s so like him to reveal his feelings in such an unintentional way. It’s cute.

You decide to tuck away that knowledge instead of antagonizing him for once and shrug.

“At least they’re being responsible,” you reply and return to your book.

Quietly, Levi crosses the room, a look of dissatisfaction still polluting his expression as he sinks onto his side of the bed.

“You’re not worried about it?” he asks.

You turn, meeting his concerned gaze with a sardonic tilt of your head. “Tell me you weren’t thinking about sex at his age.”

His lips purse slightly, and you know you’ve made your point when the tips of his ears begin to turn a faint shade of pink. “I wasn’t acting on it,” he says as if that makes any real difference.

You laugh. “Well, I think that was more because of your circumstances than anything else.”

He doesn’t say anything to refute what you say. Instead, Levi settles into his side of the bed, propped upright on the pillows next to you. With a slow sigh, his hand finds your thigh much like it does almost every night. It’s an idle touch, one that you’re not even sure he realizes he does anymore, but it still causes you to scoot closer, seeking out his warmth.

“That doesn’t mean they should be having sex. They’re kids,” he continues, seemingly still preoccupied with the topic. “Maybe we should talk to them.”

“Gabi and Falco are almost eighteen, Levi,” you point out, not looking up from your page. “I’m sure their parents have already had that kind of talk with them. Pretty soon they’ll have little ones of their own running around. And that’s what we fought for anyway, right? For people to live and fall in love. Have families, grow old.”

He doesn’t reply.

For a few minutes, you sit like this, absorbed in your book. Coaxed into comfort by the slow caress of Levi’s thumb on your skin. Some nights, Levi will read over your shoulder, and you think that’s what he’s doing again tonight, until–

“Have you ever thought about it?”

You don’t look up when you ask, “About what?”

“Having kids.”

Your eyes stutter on the page before freezing entirely. Any attempt to recall anything you just read is impossible, so you carefully bookmark your place at the end of the chapter and set the book aside.

Levi is already watching you when you turn, the expression in his one good eye now open and passive.

“I have,” you tell him slowly. “But never seriously. Never thought I’d get the chance to.”

He nods to assert he knows what you mean. It’s difficult to dream for a future when each day feels like it may be your last. It’s a feeling you’re both well accustomed to.

He keeps his gaze fixed and even in a way that makes your heart flutter. “And now?” he asks.

You swallow.

An implication sits in the air that you’re sure is intentional. You’ve been by Levi’s side as a comrade for almost a decade but as his partner for only a fraction of that time, only revealing your feelings a few months after the battle at Fort Salta. Thankfully, he had reciprocated.

And now, he’s asking if you want children with him.

Scenarios immediately flash through your mind. Ones of Levi holding a little boy with his eyes and your nose. Others of a little girl with both of her parents wrapped around her finger.

It conjures an indescribable feeling, but if you had to choose, you think joy might be the closest thing to it.

“I’d like that,” you finally say, eyes focusing on him once more. “But we’re not exactly young anymore. We’d have to start trying soon.”

There’s a small twitch of his mouth upwards–the tiniest of movements that you’ve come to recognize as the precursor to mischief. So when he reaches to pull you in for a kiss, you’re not surprised when he says, “We can start trying right now.”

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x fem!reader #captain levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levimonth24

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andvys · 9 days ago

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The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ chapter one

⭐︎ Welcome and Goodbye

Warnings: hurt/no comfort, angst, mentions of death, gore, post apocalypse, mentions of being drugged, mentions of SA (not actually happening here), allusions to sex trafficking, dark themes, mean!Steve, grumpy!Steve, grumpy x sunshine

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve can't stand your presence, won't accept his friends' pleading to let you stay with them, nothing will change his mind, he wants you gone... he really does.

Word count: 7.5k

Author's note: first chapter ya'll, I know there isn't much action yet but trust me when I say it's gonna get wild in here. @hellfire--cult is my assistant as always, so don't forget about her, she proofreads AND she writes with me (don't listen to her)

⭐︎ series masterlist

⭐︎ prologue

☀︎

It’s not the nightmares that wake you from your sleep this morning, it’s not the lingering fear and the anxiety this world has brought upon you, it’s the silence, the ray of sunlight peeking through the curtains that Nancy had closed last night. The mattress is soft beneath you, the covers are warm, your hair is sprawled over the pillow under your head, smelling of shampoo, floral and sweet, a luxury in this world, to smell nice, to be clean, to wake up in safety, fully rested, you can’t remember the last time you woke up like this, you can’t remember ever waking up like this since the world has ended, and every day you find yourself missing your small apartment you left abandoned in New York. You wonder what happened to it, if it was one of the buildings that burned down after the big cities were bombed, when the government, the military still thought that the end of the world could be stopped, that the monsters could be stopped.

You don’t look back a lot, there is no point to it, to grieve something that will never come back again but a part of you feels sad for the girl you were before the evil had spread, before you had to adapt to the ugliness this world has brought, before you had to accept that the real monsters weren’t the creatures.

A sinking feeling takes over when you register the voices downstairs, loud and angry, filled with rage and hatred – hatred for you, for no reason at all.

The lump in your throat grows, bigger and bigger each passing second.

He doesn’t want you here, and it didn’t change overnight.

You swallow harshly, and throw the covers off yourself, your feet hit the cold ground when you stand up. You look around the room, Nancy’s room, that she kindly let you stay in. You find the clothes she picked out for you, probably in one of the abandoned houses. You reach for the pants, a pair of denim jeans, you grab your belt and your thigh holster, surprised that it’s still on the desk where you had left it last night, a part of you expected Steve to take it from you and only give it back when you are by the gates and ready to leave this place, like he wants you to.

It felt nice to be around people again, people your age, ones who didn’t turn you away or had ill intentions for you. Eddie and Nancy were sweet and welcoming, they provided food and a place to stay, they made conversation, the way people used to do before all this.

It makes you sick, knowing you have to leave today, by yourself, to know that you won’t get a good night’s sleep again, to know that you won’t wake up so peacefully tomorrow morning – if there will be one for you.

You throw the black shirt on, before you lean down towards the different pairs and sizes of shoes she had left here for you. They are different from your converse, which have too many holes in them already, the sole is wearing off. They used to be your favorite pair but it’s time to abandon them now too, you pick a pair of combat boots this time and tie the laces tightly.

You stop by the bathroom first, to wash your face and brush your teeth, you drown out the angry voices that belong to Steve and Nancy, you know they are fighting because of you. She wants you to stay, he wants you to leave, he doesn’t care to hide his distaste.

You stare at your reflection in the mirror, taking in the sight of yourself. You haven’t changed much, you think. Your hair got longer, you lost weight but that isn’t a surprise to you, you have gone days without food or even water, too many nights you struggled to fall asleep because of the hunger and the emptiness in your stomach.

A sigh escapes you, a sad one, you know what is waiting for you downstairs.

“Steve, she is all alone, we can’t just let her go like that!” You hear Nancy say when you slowly make your way towards the staircase.

“You know we have a supply limit. We rationed water and food for three people only, and now we would have to do it for one more?” Steve scoffs, and from what you have seen of him yesterday, you can imagine the look on his face and how he is crossing his arms over his chest, stubbornly.

“No one else would take her in! Everyone left in Hawkins are old people who can’t even fend for themselves properly–”

“She didn’t ask to stay,” Steve interrupts, not allowing her to finish her sentence. “Besides, I give two shits about her, Nance.”

His words shouldn’t sting the way they do, he is nothing but a stranger, his harsh words shouldn’t even touch you… and yet they do.

“What is wrong with you? You weren’t like this at all!” Nancy’s voice seems shocked, taken aback by the words that just left his mouth.

You hear his scoff, his humorless chuckle, “oh really? I thought you weren’t like this either! Before you would have threatened a stranger with a gun to their head, and now you let some random girl just use our things and let her stay!?”

“She seems nice, Steve!”

A part of you wants to run down the stairs and break apart the fight, you never planned on staying, you never wanted this to happen, all you wanted was shelter for the night and a new map, you never meant for this to happen.

You stand frozen in place, holding onto the railing of the stairs.

“She ain’t going to replace Barb if that’s what you think.”

Silence follows after, no words are spoken, nothing, just silence, for a minute or two.

You know he’s hit a nerve, you know he aimed for the kill with that. It fills you with guilt, knowing that this is only about you, that your presence prompted him to throw something at her that he knew would hurt her.

“You’re bringing Barb into this!? Are you seriously bringing back what happened to Barb?!” Nancy’s voice of disbelief rings in your ears.

“I am not bringing anything back, all I’m saying is she is not a pet, or a doll to keep you both fucking company!”

“She is a person!”

“She is a nuisance!”

You suck in a sharp breath, that one stung. You know you aren’t welcome here, you aren’t – weren’t welcome anywhere, it never really hurt to be turned away, so you won’t let it hurt now either.

You start making your way down the stairs, slowly and quietly. You ignore the beating of your heart as you step into the hallway and make your way into the dining room to get to the kitchen where the silence is suddenly deafening. You step where they can’t see you and you take in the sight of both of them as they stand across from one another, he is leaning against the kitchen island, glaring at the girl that welcomed you with nothing but kindness. Her arms are crossed, her eyes are burning with anger and disbelief, but mostly with disappointment.

“Wow Steve, you sure sound like your dad there.”

You watch and wait for his reaction, you see the way he tenses up, the way he furrows his eyebrows and frowns at her, he huffs loudly and drops his arms to his sides, shaking his head at her.

“See? She comes along and we fight, when we never fucking did this whole year!”

“How could there be any time to fight when we spent it grieving–”

Before she can say anymore, and reveal something that they might not want you to know about, you clear your throat and step into the kitchen, making them both snap their heads towards you.

“You guys don’t have to fight because of me, I’m not staying here, that was never my intention. I was passing through, like I told you yesterday,” you tell him, looking at him only for a second, not wanting to look any longer and see the false pity. “I appreciate what you have done for me, Nancy. You and Eddie, you have done more for me than I could have asked for, but I’ll be on my way now, and out of your hair,” you mumble the last part to the man before you, who is avoiding your eyes now, choosing to look at the hardwood floor instead.

“Good, got your map?” Steve asks, not caring about saying anything else to you.

Nancy scoffs at him, clenching her fists, she shakes her head. She can’t believe what she is hearing, what he is saying, the hatred in his eyes he holds for someone he doesn’t even know, how he is ready to turn someone away and send them to their death, because this is what is waiting for you behind these walls.

You nod your head and eye him slowly, his jaw is clenched, his eyes filled with something you can’t fully read, you see the disbelief in her whole expression – he hasn’t always been like this, the shock in her voice proved it, you wonder what happened to him, you wonder what made him so… cruel.

“Yeah, I’m gonna go now–”

“What’s happening here?” Eddie’s voice interrupts you, he stops beside you, wiping motor oil off his hands with a dark blue bandana, he scans your faces, notices the tension in the room, right away. One look at Nancy and the deep frown and he knows what is happening.

You can’t even open your mouth to answer his question before Steve beats you to it.

“She was just leaving,” he glares at his friend, warning him with his eyes not to try anything, but Eddie isn’t like Nancy, he won’t fight, he won’t argue, he simply won’t listen to him. “Got the map, right?” He asks again.

“You know what,” Eddie starts, already grinning at his friend. “I lost my last copy. And requesting one in the community takes a long while, which I already took care of. Callaway is preparing one but you know… gotta scavenge to find a good updated one and that ass is a fucking sloth.”

Steve pushes himself off the counter, furrowing his brows, he purses his lips as he shakes his head in confusion, “what– are you lying?”

“Absolutely not,” Eddie shakes his head, already stepping closer to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder, not letting you go anywhere. “So, no. Sweetheart here can’t leave without a map. The only copy is the one for when we leave–”

Steve sighs again, probably for the tenth time this morning.

“We’re not leaving.”

“--And we’re not giving our personal map away so… until there is a spare one, she has to stay.”

Your cheeks heat up when Steve glances at you, the hazel in his eyes darkens, the frown on his face deepens. You feel weird beneath his gaze, you don’t like this, you don’t like staying somewhere you’re not wanted but Eddie is persistent, Nancy is too, and you don’t want to be by yourself again, not yet. You can’t look into his eyes any longer though, or at his face, so you look down instead.

Steve knows not to argue with Eddie, it’s no use, not with him, the look on his face tells him that Eddie is ready to bite his face off if he even dares to utter another word about you leaving. He still doesn’t hide his distaste for you, and he scoffs at his friends, looking between Nancy and Eddie, he shakes his head in disappointment, “you know, this is exactly what will get you both killed,” he grumbles before he storms past you and out of the house.

Eddie murmurs words under his breath as he shakes his head, before he turns to you, noticing the frown on your face, the uncertainty.

“Come on, you are helping me with something today.”

You finally look up again, glancing at him first, at the kind smile directed at you, the warmth in his eyes so different from the coldness in Steve’s. Nancy offers you a small smile too but the tears in her eyes aren’t hard to miss, the sadness in her features, the disappointment – maybe you should have left when he told you to.

“I– um, I can find a map somewhere else, I’ll go–”

“No.” Nancy shakes her head, “you’re staying, that’s final.”

“He doesn’t want me here,” you speak, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I want you here,” she argues, shrugging her shoulders.

“So do I.” Eddie nudges your shoulder, still smiling just as softly as before. “You’re staying until he– we’re ready to leave, we’ll go together when the time is right.”

You don’t understand why they want you here so badly, why they even care as much as they do, you understand him more, better.

You welcome their company with open arms though, appreciating it more than anything. You have been on your own for too long, you hated every minute of it, no matter how normal it became to you, you hated it, you don’t want it anymore.

Eddie doesn’t wait for you to say yes – he won’t let you leave anyways, even if you insisted.

“So… have you ever gone fishing?” Eddie asks you, beginning to lead you away when he hears Nancy’s soft sniffle, knowing she won’t want comfort or sympathy from him or you. There is only one she would want it from, but that one is long gone, so the only thing he or anyone can do is give her the space that she needs in moments like these.

He shuts the door behind him.

The wind is soft against your skin, warm and pleasant, the sun shines down on you, bright and golden rays hitting the lake and the grass surrounding you, it doesn't feel like fall yet. There is a boat by the shore, slightly moving every time the waves slosh against it.

Eddie is humming beside you, enjoying the warm day, the silence. It’s easy to forget what’s out there when you take in your peaceful surroundings and breathe in the fresh air. You remember the rotten smell in the first few months before winter came, you remember the dead birds on the ground, the apples that fell from the trees, infested by maggots, it was disgusting and you constantly had to wear a mask as to not gag after every breath you took of this rotten world.

You feel sad every time you think of how you will never smell flowers again or grass after the rain, how you will never see a field of sunflowers again, even when a part of you always hoped that the one behind your house was somehow spared by this world – it would have to be a miracle and miracles are something rare nowadays.

You wonder what this place looked like before, if any flowers grew surrounding the field in front of the lake, if it was filled with people in the summer, if any teenagers have snuck down here to throw bonfire parties, to jump into the water in the middle of the night, to share a first kiss, to come here to be alone, to cry, to enjoy the silence, to enjoy the view.

Places that were once filled with people, are now abandoned, haunted with the sound of what once was, of something that will never be again. It’s not only the world that has changed, people have too.

“Do you wanna try?” Eddie asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Hm?” You tilt your head to the side, furrowing your brows at the curly haired man before you.

He chuckles, noticing the confused frown on your face, the lost look in your eyes. You were distracted, far away from here.

“I know I’m handsome, didn’t think you’d be so distracted by my beauty,” he smirks and rolls his shoulders.

You can’t hold back the giggle that falls from your lips, the playfully arrogant look on his face, the plastered smirk. You have only known him for a couple of hours, yet you can already tell that this man loves to tease people.

“I was actually distracted by my surroundings, I was wondering what this place looked like before… you know.”

Eddie nods, his smiling fading a bit, he looks down at the rod in his hand, “it was nice, I mean it still is, considering everything,” he pauses, pointing at the big willow tree that was somehow left untouched by this new world. “Flowers used to grow right here though, lots of ‘em. Bet you would’ve loved that.”

A smile grazes your face, you nod at him, “I know I would, there used to be this big field of sunflowers behind my parents’ house, it was beautiful. I got lost in it as a child though… once or twice.”

Eddie chuckles at that, “or thrice?”

You squint your eyes and smile sheepishly at him, making him chuckle again, “that’s cute.”

You nudge his shoulder with your own, “you think me getting lost is cute?”

“Hey, you’ve come a long way since then, look at you, traveling through the country without getting lost,” he teases, nudging you back.

“Who says I didn’t get lost a few times? I might’ve taken one too many wrong routes and got off the path.”

“Oh no, sweets,” Eddie shakes his head at you, “I think you’ve taken the right ones, they lead you right here and now you’re with us, you’re on the right path.”

Eddie can see the bit of confusion in your eyes, like you don’t understand him, just like you don’t understand Nancy, he knows there must be reasons for that, he can’t even imagine them though.

You look away from his warm eyes, to his arms, to the tattoos and the scars that linger on his skin, his hand is holding the rod tightly, his fingers are adorned with rings, you can tell that they are a part of him, just like the tattoos, every single one of them has a meaning. You look back into his eyes – Eddie is still a stranger to you but there is a certain energy around him, you can’t help but feel safe with him.

“You are really kind, Eddie. You and Nancy, I appreciate that a lot.”

The tone in your voice is sad, he can tell that much, he can see it too when you cast your eyes on the ground.

“Hey, I think we could use some kindness in this world, don’t you think?” He smiles softly.

Your lips curl upwards, you nod slowly, though you stay quiet for another second or two.

“Steve doesn’t seem to share that opinion with you…” You murmur quietly, a little scared to touch that topic but still curious. You heard what Nancy had said to him, it left you wondering all day. “He is not very kind, and he doesn’t want me here.”

“He’ll come around,” Eddie says, shrugging. “Besides, we’re not staying either, as soon as the RV is done, we’re leaving, together.”

Nancy had told you about it, about the community, a safe haven, somewhere far away, on the shores of California. Her family is there, her mother and her siblings, Mike and Holly, and other survivors who were led away from here by a man named Hopper. For months they hadn’t heard from them, didn’t know if they had made it there or not. Steve was positive that they had died just like everyone else did – but then, a few weeks ago, the radio station in their living room had finally given a signal, after months and months of waiting, it finally came to life, and through came the voice of Dustin Henderson, Mike’s friend.

Eddie had started fixing the RV right after. He didn’t want to waste more time staying in Hawkins, in the small gated residential that is now only filled with a few old people who refuse to leave their homes behind, they will die here and they’re okay with that. Eddie and Nancy aren’t.

“Nancy told me Nevada is your destination?” Eddie asks, continuing after you nod. “It’s on our way, we’ll go there together.”

You like the sound of that, you like the thought of not having to continue your travels by yourself, because it gets quite lonely, sometimes unsettling.

You want to go home, to your family, to your parents and your brother. You know that there is a great chance that they have left, that they have found some place else to stay but the last time you have spoken to them, when you were still able to call, when you were still in your apartment in New York, they were set on staying at the house. Your dad said that it was safe to stay, that gates and fences were built around the town, around the neighbourhood, nothing could come through.

“I’d like that.” You wish you could smile, you wish you could believe it, but you know that Steve doesn’t want to leave and you can’t imagine Eddie and Nancy leaving without him. “Steve doesn’t want to leave though… why is that?”

At that, Eddie falls quiet for a moment, his back hunches, his lips curl into a frown, sadness flashes in his features.

“He uh,” he pauses to take a deep breath, “he doesn’t want to leave his best friend, Robin.”

When he looks up at you, he notices how you get lost in your thoughts for a moment, millions of questions flash before you, questions you want to ask but won’t, out of respect. You open your mouth a few times, though no words come out.

There is this feeling inside of you, that heavy yet hollow feeling that takes home in your chest that tells you everything you need to know, it’s a feeling you have mistaken for anxiety before, when you didn’t know yet what it actually was.

“...Why isn’t Robin going too?”

Eddie hesitates, turning to look at the lake, he takes a few deep breaths, blinks as he stares ahead.

“She uh, she wants to stay here.”

“Oh.”

Eddie tries to smile, though it seems forced.

“But you don’t want to, and neither does Nancy,” you point out, knowing that she can’t wait to get out of here.

Eddie shakes his head, pressing his lips together as he breathes in, “no, I wanna be with my friends and my uncle.”

“He’s in the community too?”

Now he smiles genuinely, “yeah, he is there. Bet he is on a boat all day, catching fish for everyone. That’s something he always dreamed of actually, living by the ocean, going on boat tours, he never got the chance to before, when he wasn’t struggling with money, he was taking care of me… I can’t believe the world had to end for him to live a better life.”

You smile sadly, you can see that his uncle means a lot to him, you can tell that he misses him strongly.

“Yeah, well… life is weird, most people don’t fit into this world, most people are guided by fear and hatred now but… some have it the other way around, I suppose, as crazy as that sounds.”

Eddie nods at that, a soft chuckle falls from his lips as he looks back at the water, “honestly, this still feels like a fever dream.”

It did to you too, it felt like a dream you desperately wanted to wake up from, a nightmare like none you have ever experienced before. You don’t even remember what it was that made you realize that your old life was over, that nothing would go back to the way it was, that this was your life now and for always – perhaps it was the evilness that had awoken in most people you have encountered, or maybe it was the gruesome ways you watched people getting killed, or maybe it was the loneliness and the lack of life on the streets.

You doubt that Eddie had changed much, you feel like he had always been this way, kind and openhearted.

You wonder about Steve though, you have heard what Nancy said to him.

“What uh, what about Steve? Was he always like this?”

“You mean was he always an asshole?” Eddie asks, chuckling.

Your face flushes at that, and you quickly shake your head.

“No, I-I mean–”

“Come on, sweetheart,” Eddie tilts his head, eyes flashing with amusement, “he is kind of an asshole but to answer your question, no, he wasn’t always like this, he was always protective but now it’s more than that, he’s… everything is a threat to him now, everything he doesn’t know is danger.”

“So… I’m a threat to him?”

Eddie chuckles again, he shakes his head.

“I don’t think you could look like one even if you tried. He is just wary, he’ll come around though.”

You huff at his words, frowning a little, you’re well aware that people think you’re an easy target. Your experiences from the past, ones that happened not too long ago even, are proof of that.

“Well, even if he saw me as a threat or anyone else for that matter, I wouldn’t blame him.”

Eddie furrows his brows, “this world, the monsters are the real enemy.”

You once thought so too, back when you were still naive, still untouched by this world.

“There are worse things than monsters out there, Eddie.”

There’s no smile on your face now, no softness in your eyes, the tone in your voice is serious. A chill runs down his spine, something about the way you said it, worries him. He wants to ask, he wants to know what you are talking about, though a part of him already knows the answer to that.

“I–” Before he can utter another word, he watches the way your eyes widen as you touch his shoulder without forcing your eyes away from the lake.

“You got one! I think you got one!” You point at the line that keeps jerking forward.

“Oh!” Eddie jumps up, lifting the rod back up in the air, he starts pulling the fish up. His tongue pokes out between his teeth, a look of concentration taking over his face now.

“You got it, you got it!” You clap your hands excitedly, making him chuckle beside you as you jump on the grass.

“Alright,” Eddie murmurs, not even struggling against the strength that keeps pulling at the rod, “get the net for me, please.”

You bend down and reach for the net that he threw down earlier. You pick it up, and follow him to the shore.

“You’re next, sweetheart,” Eddie grins at you, “gonna let you catch the second fish.”

“That’s one big fucking fish! Good job, Eds!” Nancy exclaims with joy as she serves the big plate in the middle of the table.

Steve looks up at Eddie to see if he is smiling proudly, instead he sees him scowling.

“It… wasn’t me.”

Steve and Nancy slowly turn their heads to you, to see you wiggling in your seat, excitedly.

“I caught the mackerels,” Eddie grumbles as he reaches for the freshly baked bread, “she caught that one.”

Steve hides his surprise well, though he still looks at you as he sips on his whiskey before he reaches for the bowl of cooked potatoes.

“Wait, you fish?” Nancy asks as she sits down beside you.

You shake your head, smiling at your new friend, “nope! But I’m strong and I learn fast!”

You ignore Steve’s sighs and his incoherent words that he grumbles under his breath. You look at him from the side though, catching him glaring at you.

“I can tell!” Nancy chuckles as she turns to Eddie, “you’ve got some competition.”

“I fucking know, Nance,” Eddie mumbles, pretending to be mad, like he didn’t cheer when you caught that fish. He turns to Steve, who not only fills his own plate but also Eddie’s and then Nancy’s.

It’s a sweet gesture, one that shows you that he isn’t as heartless as he pretends to be.

“Thanks man,” Eddie grins, to which Steve doesn’t even smile or look at him, he turns to you though, looking into your eyes intensely – no smile, no kindness, nothing. It’s hard to look past his cold behaviour, to take him in fully, he is so robotic and rude, even when he isn’t speaking to you, he is mean, you can’t see anything else but that. You don’t expect him to put dinner on your plate like he does for his friends, you are not welcome here in his eyes but you also don’t expect him to hand you the bowl.

You reach for it, taking it from his hands, he immediately withdraws when your fingers touch his, like you are venom.

“I can take you to the greenhouse tomorrow!” Nancy smiles as she picks up her fork, stabbing it into the steamed carrots. “I’ll show you our crops, we’ve got a lot of carrots growing, right now!”

Steve glares at her, he wants you gone by the morning, he’s made it loud and clear when he came back earlier while you were out fishing with Eddie.

Nancy ignores him, Eddie does too, he is too busy taking apart the fish on his plate. But you, you can’t unsee the disapproving look on his face, it makes you squirm in your seat, it takes away your appetite too.

“I’m still surprised by how much food you have–”

“It isn’t much,” Steve interrupts you as he takes a bite of his food, his eyes practically pierce through your soul, making you cower. He acts like you will take away everything.

Nancy’s angry eyes do little, she even kicks him under the table but he ignores her.

“It’s much for someone who had nothing for months. Besides, I didn’t think that vegetables and fruit could still grow, there’s a lot of rotten land out there.”

There is no regret or guilt in his eyes, he can tell that you hadn’t had much to eat, that yesterday’s dinner and all the food on the table tonight, is a real feast for you.

“I’m sure there are other places out there that have more food, you’ll find your way there.”

Eddie sighs loudly beside him, shaking his head, though to keep the peace at this table, he bites his tongue.

Nancy leans back in her chair, she clenches her jaw, not hiding the anger she has got directed at him.

“Yeah… I’m sure I will,” You murmur quietly before you pick up your fork and start eating, forcing the food down that you were excited for.

He looks down at you, not blinking, not moving. You chew your food slowly unlike the night before. You tuck your hair behind your ear and pull the sleeve of your sweater over your free hand. There are dark circles under your eyes, like you haven’t slept in days – and you probably haven’t until last night, even that wasn’t enough to catch up on all that you have lost. You probably haven’t had a warm meal in weeks, maybe months. You probably haven’t felt safe since the day the world has ended. But he can’t care, he shouldn’t, it will only make things complicated, it will only do damage.

“We will,” Nancy exclaims.

“What?” Steve asks, forcing his gaze away from you.

“I said, we will find a place like that out there, in fact we will find our way to California together, she is coming with us as soon as the RV is ready.” Nancy says with a loud and determined tone, not caring to go soft on him anymore.

Steve slams his fork down, making you flinch. He stands up, nearly causing his chair to fall over. He grabs his gear that he threw on the coffee table earlier.

“Where are you going?” Nancy frowns, also getting up.

“To Robin. I can’t believe you two are still going on about this,” he scoffs, taking one last look at you before he storms out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

You sit quietly, looking down at your plate, no longer feeling the hunger in your stomach.

Nancy sighs loudly, she looks up at the ceiling, her jaw still clenched. She sits down again, and picks her fork back up.

You lift your head and glance at Eddie, “is Robin…”

“The best friend who doesn’t want to leave the community, yeah.” He glances at Nancy, for only a split second, before he looks down again and continues eating.

Nancy clears her throat before she looks at you, she knows you’re curious about her, about why she isn’t here, why she isn’t coming too.

“Her parents are really strict, they don’t allow her to leave Hawkins,” she explains, hesitating for a moment, “and… Steve doesn’t want to leave without her, so…”

“Oh,” you nod in understanding, squinting your eyes as you look at his empty space. He is so angry, so hateful towards everything and everyone. “Is he… are they like in love or something?”

Eddie laughs at that, shaking his head, “mmm… no… trust me, birdie’s type is more… people like you.”

Nancy looks down with a smile and flushed cheeks.

You tilt your head to the side, “oh… you mean non grumpy?”

They both chuckle in amusement, the questioning and innocent look in your eyes is funny to them both.

It takes you a moment to realize why they are so amused by your question, and you grow flustered once you understand.

“...Oh!”

That still doesn’t answer your question about him.

“Now eat up, sweets,” Eddie says, gesturing to your nearly untouched plate, “forget that grumpy asshole.”

Nancy looks down with wide eyes, taking a deep breath as she starts eating again too, “kinda hard to when he acts like this.”

Yeah, it is hard to forget that man and his glaring eyes, the cold shoulder and the mean comments that are meant to drive you away as fast as possible. You know he is probably counting down the hours until you’re gone and he doesn’t have to see you anymore.

Tomorrow you will be alone again, all by yourself, with no one to talk to, with no one to laugh with. You will be back on the road and you will turn around after nearly every step that you will take, you won’t have a warm dinner and a hot shower, you won’t have that feeling of safety, you won’t sleep again, you will spend another winter fighting for your life -- if you even make it that far.

So, you try, you try to forget him, you try to enjoy this moment with Eddie and Nancy, you try for as long as you can, even when it gets late and Nancy excuses herself to take a shower while you and Eddie clean the kitchen together.

A comfortable silence settles between you both, you wipe down the counter while he washes the dishes. You can tell that he is thinking hard about something, you noticed that he always frowns really strongly when he gets lost in his own head.

You grab a fresh towel and lean against the counter beside him, reaching for one of the washed plates, and you start drying it.

“Can I ask you something?” He finally breaks the silence, and you know you’re about to find out what went on in his head.

“Sure.”

“Earlier you said that there are worse things than monsters out there,” he pauses and puts the sponge down, putting the washed cutlery on the counter for you to dry, he wipes his hands with the towel that was thrown over his shoulder and he crosses his arms over his chest when he turns his whole body to face you. “What’d you mean by that?”

A quiet ‘oh’ falls from your lips. You don’t answer his question right away, taking your time to finish drying the plates. Eddie doesn’t push you, waiting for you to be ready, and when you are, you turn to face him, as well.

“I meant people.”

He only raises his eyebrows at you.

“People are bad, Eddie. You can’t even imagine what it’s like out there,” you sigh, not hiding the fear in your eyes. “People will do anything to survive, they will take anything they want, anyone they want…”

His brown eyes that were previously filled with confusion and curiosity are blank for a moment, his eyebrows stay furrowed until your words fully dawn on him and his features pull into a look of shock, understanding.

“Oh,” he whispers softly as his arms fall to his sides.

“There are no rules out there, anyone can get away with anything. I’ve seen people kill others for cans of food, for ammo or water. I’ve come across people who didn’t take me in so kindly, all I got was stale bread and a cell to sleep in for the night and those weren’t even the worst ones.”

Eddie frowns, he doesn’t open his mouth to speak, not knowing what to say yet.

“I’ve heard rumors… of young girls and boys being sold, traded for weapons and other things. I didn’t want to believe it.”

His face pales at your words, he shakes his head slowly, disbelief is written all over his face.

You swallow the growing lump in your throat, take a deep breath, you try to ignore the chills that run down your spine still from that night.

“A few days ago, maybe a week… I was looking for food at a gas station when a sick person snuck up on me, nearly ripped a hole into my head when it grabbed at my hair. I fell onto broken glass,” you pause to show him the wound on your shoulder, “that fucker nearly got me, I couldn’t reach my gun fast enough, I thought I was done for… Someone saved me, a man.”

Eddie swallows, bracing himself for what he is about to hear.

“Scared me more than that sick person, honestly. I didn’t trust him, but he helped me, got me alcohol and bandages for my wound, and offered me water and food. He told me that he lived in a nearby community, that his wife and his kids were there too. I was naive. I was tired and desperate for shelter, I fell for it and I almost paid for my stupidity.” You pause, feeling your heart race from just telling the story. “I had a bad feeling but I still got into his car, and it only took two minutes for him to pull out a syringe. I knew right then and there what I had gotten myself into.”

“Jesus,” Eddie whispers, eyeing you worriedly.

“I fought, I-I don’t know how I got myself out of that one but I did.”

You try not to think of the way you had almost lost that fight, how his hands grabbed at you, how scared you felt, how you thought that your heart was gonna jump out of your throat, how he nearly stabbed that needle into your neck if you hadn’t managed to kick your heel into his groin, buying you that time that you needed to get out of there and jump out of the moving car.

“I ran into the woods, I didn’t want to get back into that town and risk him coming back for me… with more men. I was lost for days, at one point I thought that I wouldn’t find my way back out of those woods but I did, I made it out and I got here. Steve was the first person, the first man I stumbled into after that. I-I was a little scared… but he looked harmless compared to the one before, and even if he wasn’t, I would’ve taken him over anyone else.” You admit, looking down at your hands.

Eddie is stunned, he doesn’t know what to say after all of this. He is shocked and horrified. He knew that people were cruel, even before all of this, but he never thought that they would turn into this. He looks down at you, sadly, he is glad that worse didn’t happen but what you went through was bad enough.

“People are like that…?”

You nod, “yeah… it’s rough out there… when you’re alone.”

Eddie didn’t want you to leave before but now? He would fight Steve to make you stay.

He places his hand on your shoulder, squeezing softly, he looks into your eyes, giving you a promising look, “you’re not alone anymore, alright? You’ve got us–”

“But Steve–”

“It doesn’t matter what he said, he wouldn’t let you out there either if he knew about this. He is not that cruel, I promise. You’re with us now and you ain’t leaving without us.”

Eddie makes a promise, and you can tell by the look in his eyes that he won’t break it.

“Okay,” you whisper, smiling softly at him before you turn away and pick up your task again.

Eddie keeps looking at you though, with a smile that slowly fades and eyes that flash with sadness. He has only known you for one day but he couldn’t help but grow protective of you already, just the way he felt when he was still in high school and he took in all the lost sheep who were looking for shelter from all those hungry wolves.

He won’t let you out there on your own, he won’t let Steve throw you out to the wolves who have gotten even hungrier.

Eddie had dealt with so much guilt when he was dragged into this world two years ago. He had no chance of saving her, but he can save you. He knows you will die if you go out there alone, with or without a map. You can’t depend on your luck alone. It got you this far, but how much more is there for you to use?

And as he chats away with you again, to distract you and himself from the sudden fear of what else they might encounter once they leave the community, you two don’t hear the creak of the stairs as someone goes to their room after spending the last minutes perched on the kitchen’s doorway.

Someone whose eyebrows were furrowed in the middle with worry, with guilt. He didn’t know it was that bad out there. He didn’t know the monsters weren’t the only ones killing, and from what you told Eddie, the bite of a demobat seemed a far better outcome than being taken away by some random people for them to do, god knows what with you.

Steve’s heart was torn as he went into his room, sighing as he dropped his bag to the floor. He felt his stomach twisting with emotions, with nerves, with feelings that he couldn’t quite figure out at the moment. It was all too dangerous, everything was. But maybe now that Eddie knew how dangerous moving around was, the idea of leaving was no longer brought up to him.

And you… He wants to strangle you.

Your feet drag you down the stairs, rubbing your eye lazily as you try to wipe the sleep away from you. You kept thinking of the conversation with Eddie, and you wondered how in the world were you going to be in the same place as someone who just didn’t want you breathing their same oxygen. There was no way you could possibly stay a long time with someone like that.

The smell of coffee filled your nostrils, something you just couldn’t believe you were smelling yet. Something you never thought you would smell ever again. Nancy must be awake, and you couldn’t wait to ask her what you could help with today, but the moment you crossed the kitchen’s doorway, you were surprised to see brown brushed hair, a broad back facing you, wearing a plain white t-shirt and some black sweatpants.

Steve turned around, his eyes clashing with yours for just one second before placing a cup on the counter, filled with coffee.

“We have milk, but we save it. I can only offer black coffee and some sugar.” You were not expecting him to hand you coffee. You were not expecting a good morning from him at all, and for you, this gesture was his way of saying it.

“I– It’s okay…” Your hands grabbed onto the cup and then poured six spoonfuls of sugar, making Steve wince at the sight.

“God, just like Munson–” You heard him scoff as he turned away from you and your eyes looked at his broad back as you watched him pour coffee into his own cup. You immediately brought the cup to your lips as he turned to face you again.

“T–Thank you.” His jaw clenched for a second, taking a sip of his coffee at the same time you did. Silence filled the room and you could feel just how awkward everything was. What were you supposed to say now? Should you be the one to tell him you might be staying? That Eddie is not letting you leave? Your mouth opened only for his voice to interrupt you.

“If you are planning on staying here, you’ll have to do chores and tasks like we all do.”

“Huh?” Your eyes widened as you looked at him. He was looking at his coffee as if it were the most interesting thing in the world before his sharp gaze turned to you.

“We shift our tasks daily. We don’t do the same thing everyday. Patrolling is a two men job–”

“You were alone that day–”

“Eddie had an emergency and it was time I had to go home anyways. There’s fishing, cooking, cleaning, gardening, patroling.” You were blinking absentmindedly at him as he kept talking and you couldn’t believe he was letting you stay. With conditions, but he was letting you fucking stay.

“Wait, are you serious?” Your voice was small as you asked the questions, “I can stay?”

“Who’s staying?” Nancy walked in, her hair a matter mess on her head, which made Steve scoff in disapproval, only for her to shrug at him as she went to get a cup from the cupboard.

“She is staying.” Nancy almost dropped the cup as she heard Steve’s words, her eyes widening as she looked at him and then back at you. “And you better not make me fucking regret this.”

His eyes were locked with yours and for some reason he felt a shiver running down his spine. Something that was telling him ‘you did the right thing’. He better have. Whatever just told him he made the right decision, better not fuck him over. Nancy turned to jump in excitement your way, smiling as she started to tell you what tasks you could take on, while you stared between her and him, not understanding what was going on yet.

Maybe he can convince you to stay, and maybe that is the key to making Eddie and Nancy stay. To forget the idea of leaving Hawkins. He can’t leave Robin. He doesn’t understand how Eddie and Nancy can easily leave her behind. He just hopes you don’t do the exact opposite.

God, he really does hope he did the right thing.

☀︎

taglist: @prettyboyeddiemunson @thesickestqrmydcll @tvserie-s-world @crispystarfishhottub @sophal22 @definitionwanderlust @talkativecarnation @mysticalwoolenfroglegs @ariesandwolves @mortqlprojections

#steve harrington series #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things angst #grumpy x sunshine #apocalypse au

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cressidagrey · 1 month ago

Text

Such A Mystery - Part 7

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)

Summary:

Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.

Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.

The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry), Jos Verstappen

Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Happy New Year! Chapter count is continuing to go up, because I need to halve this chapter after hitting 6k. Should be 10 parts. Hopefully.

Arthur did eventually show up with enough McDonald’s in tow to feed an army.

Fries, Nuggets and even including apology milkshakes.

“I am really sorry,” her little brother apologised to her, looking distraught.

Colette exhaled slowly, trying her hardest not to laugh at the sheepish look on Arthur's face.

"The next time, maybe you should think before you post. But then I clearly didn’t do that either,” she said drily.

“I mean, karma is the guy in the car coming straight home to me, did amuse me very much,” Vic said brightly.

Arthur blushed deeply, and ducked his head in embarrassment. He set down the bags of takeout on the counter, and then looked up to her to apologize again, his eyes wide like a puppy begging for forgiveness.

"Come here," Colette said with a sigh, holding out her arms for him. "I love you, ma petite puce."

"Colette!" Arthur complained with a grimace, but she just grinned.

"Oh you'll always be my little flea," she teased her younger brother.

"Oh god, don't call me that," Arthur complained, letting her pull him into a tight hug. He let out a long suffering sigh. "I said I was sorry!"

"I know you are," she said, patting the top of his brown hair, even when that meant that she needed to stand on her tiptoes to reach. "But the fact remains that you were an idiot before."

Arthur groaned in embarrassment and dropped his head to her shoulder in defeat.

"Eat your fries," his voice was muffled. "And please tell me you have some salad or something in the fridge so Max doesn't kill me for feeding you nothing but junk food."

"I do have some salad in the fridge," Colette said and ruffled his hair. "I'll eat lots of veggies, I promise. And I’ll even tell Maxie that I blackmailed you into getting me fries, if you want,” she suggested brightly.

Vic just snorted. "Let's just get that back in the living room and we can put on Sky News and bitch about the commentators."

"You guys are awful," Arthur protested, but he was already gathering their food and following along obediently. "The comments on Sky Sports are not nearly as bad as you make them out to be..."

Colette rolled her eyes and instead collapsed onto the couch, wriggling to get comfortable, because her back was still killing her.

Arthur was also very wrong. Danica Patricks definitively was that bad. Colette could just stare at the train wreck in front of her.

"Vic. Why in the world has Sky Jos on there to talk about Maxie's anger issues. What anger issues?" she demanded. Max didn’t have anger issues. Who in the world had come up with that? This was utterly ridiculous!

Victoria stared at her. "You don't know?!" she asked, sounding shocked.

"Know what?" Colette demanded. "Enzo deleted every social media app in existence from my phone. Why do people think that Max of all people has anger issues?!"

"George Russell," Arthur mumbled. "He said some...things."

Things. George Russell had said some things.

Colette sat up a little straight at that, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What things?" she demanded. "What did he say?"

Victoria and Arthur exchange a look.

"He may have said that he wouldn't want Max to date his sister because he is sure that his girlfriend is the one dealing with his anger issues?" Arthur offered.

"He. Said. What?" Colette bit out.

No wonder there had been this tone in Max's voice when they had talked this morning...No wonder he had sounded upset, when that George fucking Russell had pretty much accused him of hurting her. And of course, he hadn't wanted to worry her, so of course, he hadn't told her.

Victoria reached out and grasped her elbow, as if she worried Colette would jump up and attack the screen.

"You need to stay calm," Vic said firmly. "You can't get worked up, it's not good for you, and it's not good for the baby," she warned her.

"I will murder George Russell," Colette growled in response.

"No murder," Victoria said in a no-nonsense voice. "You can't kill him, he's not worth it. And you can't have this stress, for your health. And the baby."

Colette huffed but she was still seething.

Only to then have Danica Patrick pipe up from the TV Screen: "What are your thoughts on your son’s supposed anger issues?"

"He doesn't have anger issues!" Colette snapped. "I have anger issues right now! I am going to find George Russell and punch him in the face!"

Arthur stared at her with an ill-hidden combination of horror and fascination.

Victoria laughed again, but it was mostly out of surprise and disbelief. "Well, at least we know that your temper is firmly intact," she said dryly.

"I'm sure Max is going to loooove seeing you this worked up over this," Arthur grumbled.

Colette had a lot of problems with Max's father, but at least for once she actually agreed with him:

"On the circuit…as soon as Max lowers his visor, he turns into a lion. He is really motivated and the only thing that matters is winning. It was always in him. What I see in Max now, I saw in karting," Jos answered Danica's question. "But that’s not the same Max you see when he is at home. On the race track, he is a lion, but at home, he’s a teddy bear. He got that from Sophie. He’s very sweet, very gentle…Incredible protective of the people he cares about."

For the first time in recent history, Colette found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with Jos Verstappen.

"He is a teddy bear," she mumbled in agreement. "The sweetest thing on earth. And that bastard has no idea what he's talking about," she bit out.

"Of course Max is a lion on the track," Arthur said with a scoff. "We've witnessed that ourselves. Everyone in the paddock knows that Max is a machine when he's in his race car, but George has his head up his ass if he thinks that Max is aggressive off the circuit."

"We all know that Maxie is the gentlest, most generous person out there," Victoria agreed, shaking her head. "George Russell is clearly jealous and is making stuff up just to get attention."

Colette just huffed.

"So you don't think he has anger issues?" Danica Patrick pushed.

"What kind of a stupid question is that?" Colette grumbled in response, her shoulders taut with anger.

Arthur laughed and Victoria squeezed her arm.

"No," Jos answered flatly.

Danica Patrick, who was clearly fishing for a different reply, seemed a little thrown by the firm response. But she rallied quickly enough to pivot: "And what can you tell us about your son’s relationship with Colette Leclerc?"

"Oh, come on!" Colette snapped.

"They have been together for a very long time," Jos replied simply, his accent strong as ever. "…since back in Karting. I don’t think anybody believed that that relationship would last, but they did prove everybody wrong."

The answer was unexpectedly charming and sincere.

Colette found herself blinking at that, surprised at how fond he sounded when talking about her and Max. Even Arthur was gaping stupidly, and it looked like Victoria was struggling not to choke on her drink from surprise.

"I think the great thing about Colette is that she understands his life, his career. She has a brother who does the same job as Max, so she was always incredibly supportive of him," Jos continued. "She is there for him. She supports him completely, and she’s been there for him through the good times and the bad. I don’t think Max would be the man he is today without her."

Arthur and Victoria stared at the screen with dropped jaws, stunned into silence.

"Is that Jos actually giving a heartfelt compliment?" Arthur muttered in disbelief.

“I think he is?” Victoria responded questioningly. This was certainly a new experience for everyone.

On the screen, Jos continued: "I have been watching their relationship for over half of Max's life, and Max really did pick the right girl."

"Your son hasn’t talked a lot about his relationship," Danica said leadingly.

"Oh, you won’t get anything from him," Jos said with a snort. "He’s very protective over her, always has been. Especially with her in her current condition."

Colette’s eyes widened and she immediately put a hand over her stomach in a protective gesture.

"Fuck," Victoria cursed.

“Did he seriously just do that?” Arthur croaked. “Did he just tell all of F1 - no, all of the world - that Colette is pregnant?”

All three of them just gaped at the TV.

Danica Patricks looked like a vampire that had just tasted blood. "Her current condition?" she asked, her voice honeyed sweet.

"Yes," Jos confirmed simply. "The baby is supposed to come any day now. We’re all incredibly excited for the new addition to the family. I mean, it took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough."

He said like it was a joke. Like it hadn't taken them the better part of 3 years and 2 miscarriages.

Colette’s whole body had tensed, her heart clenching painfully in her chest as the words echoed in her mind: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough. Those words felt like a punch to the gut - like a mockery of all the pain and disappointment and suffering.

All the stress and anxiety and anguish that they had gone through. All the tears and the desperation and prayers for a miracle.

And all of it reduced to a cheap, dirty joke.

"I am going to throttle him," Victoria said, her voice shaking.

"Get in line," Arthur grumbled, looking equally enraged.

Colette just sat there staring fixedly at the screen, feeling like her whole mind had gone numb.

It was one thing when Jos made his snide little comments to them, but it was quite another when he decided to talk about that on international TV. He made it sound like their troubles to conceive had only been a matter of not trying hard enough.

It felt like a gut punch. Colette had always known that Jos had no idea how hard the last couple of years had been for them, but now, in light of his comment, it sounded like he somehow assumed it had all been their own fault.

They had kept both miscarriages quiet...had only shared it with a handful of people. She knew that Max had told Vic about it, but he had never told his father.

Her hands were shaking with anger. The urge to throw something - anything - was almost overwhelming as the words echoed in her head over and over: It took them long enough, they definitely practiced enough.

How could he have been so cruel? How could he go and announce it on international television and make it sound like it hadn’t been the hardest thing that either of them had ever been through?

It felt like a betrayal. Colette had never expected much out of Max’s father, but this? This felt like twisting the knife in a still-healing wound and pouring salt into it.

It felt like a stab to the back. Jos had no idea. No idea how hard it had been to keep the hope up. No idea how much it had hurt with every failed test and every lost dream. And no idea how much they both had longed for the baby that was growing within her.

And now he was just treating it like it had been a matter of not working hard enough, as if it had been an easy task and they had simply taken their sweet time to do something that came naturally to most people.

Her mind would have continued to turn into circles...if there hadn't been a sudden stabbing pain low in her abdomen.

Colette winced as the pain flared. It was a shock, and her hands immediately flew down to press against the source of the pain.

"Are you alright?" Victoria asked immediately. Colette clenched her teeth as the cramping pain seemed to grow even worse, before easing.

"Just...just a cramp," Colette managed to breathe out. "It's fine. It's fine. I just- it just startled me, that's all."

She tried to assure herself that it was nothing. Just Braxton Hicks - just the body preparing for the labor, the pain sometimes got intense. But something about it felt...off.

"Is that the first one today?" Victoria asked her. "You winced a few times this morning."

Colette thought back to this morning, recalling how she had woken up with a stabbing pain in her lower back. She hadn’t thought much of it then, since her muscles hadn’t been happy with her in a long time at this point - and it had passed pretty quickly after a few minutes.

"I'm not sure, I-" she started, her breath catching.

There was pain again, another stabbing contraction.

"Are they getting stronger?" Victoria asked, her voice sharpening.

The pain receded after a few seconds, and Colette had to force down the urge to curl up on the couch with her hands on her stomach as she tried to take deep breaths."It's nothing. I still have 4 weeks," Colette said with a shake of her head.

The words sounded like a prayer. Because she wasn’t due for at least another month, after all. This was just the Braxton Hicks contractions that her doctor had warned her about. The practice contractions that were supposed to help get her body ready for labor, nothing to worry about.

It was just her body preparing for the birth, that was all.

But the pain came back again, and this time, Colette couldn't quite suppress the gasp as she closed her eyes and tried to breathe through it.

"Colette," Victoria said, her voice sharp. "I don’t think they’re just practice contractions. The way you’re tensing and wincing...this is the real deal. I think you’re going into actual labor."

“No,” Colette said, her heart lurching in her chest. “No, no, I’m not…I’m not supposed to go into labor until January, this is- this is not supposed to happen.”

She had just hit her 36th week, and she was due at the start of January. It was far too early for the labor to start.

"I don't think the baby cares about that," Victoria said with a laugh. "Come on, we'll need to get you to the hospital."

"No, I can't be in labour. Max isn't here," she disagreed.

Colette felt a fresh wave of panic wash over her. The very last thing she wanted to do was start labor without Max there, and Max was currently in the middle of a race on the opposite end of the world.

“Where’s your hospital bag?“ Victoria asked her, all business. “Where’s are the car keys? Arthur is driving.“

“What, no!“ Arthur squeaked. Arthur clearly looked terrified, his eyes growing like saucers as he stared at them. "No - no, I don’t think I can-"

But Victoria was already rounding on him. "Oh yes, you can. Just get the keys and get the damn car ready. I‘ll help Colette get her things, and you'll drive us."

The authority in her voice was intimidating enough that Arthur didn’t dare to disagree with her, and he nodded mutely and hurried away to look for the car keys.

Colette was torn between laughing at her brother’s expression and panicking over the fact that her labor was actually starting.

Just like that, she felt frozen in place a few moments longer, before Victoria snapped her fingers in front of her face. "Hey, no freezing up. We need to get moving. We need to get to the hospital, and your kid doesn’t care that it still needs 4 more weeks. So come on, come on, get your things."

It snapped her out of her temporary daze, and she managed to focus back to the present again. "Right, yeah," Colette mumbled, and she quickly went to get her hospital bag.

She had already packed it, just in case - but she had definitely not expected to actually use it.

Her hands were shaking as she picked it up, the whole situation still not entirely sinking in yet. Max was not here. She was going to have her baby without him here - that wasn’t how it was supposed to be!

But the pain came back again, and her body seemed to agree that there was no time left to waste.

She winced through the contraction, and Vic’s face tensed as she saw it.

"How are you doing?" she asked, watching her worriedly. Colette had to take a deep breath, trying to keep breathing as the pain faded out again. "I’m-” she started, but that was the same second that Arthur appeared again with the keys.

"The car is ready," he said, sounding very much like he’d rather bolt.

"Right," Victoria said, and she looked at Colette. "We gotta go. You good to go?"

Colette felt a surge of panic as the truth of leaving to go to the hospital finally sank in - she felt very much like her entire body had seized up. But Arthur was already waiting at the door with an expectant look on his face that did not look at all reassuring, and Victoria had picked up her hospital bag and was ushering Colette’s towards the hallway.

The contractions didn’t seem to care about any of her feelings, anyway.

"Come on," Victoria told her quietly. "We're gonna go and have a beautiful birth, and when you're done, there’ll be a healthy baby in your arms, okay?"

Colette was sure that her face had gone pale, and her hands were shaking as she slowly made her way through the hallway. Victoria led her the entire time, supporting her as they moved.

She was more than grateful to slip into the backseat of the Audi and her hands could claw themselves into the buttery soft leather interior.

“Are you sure we can’t wait for an adult?“ Arthur asked weakly.

“You are an adult. You literally drive race cars for a living,“ Victoria snapped.

Colette would have laughed at Arthur’s terrified expression in any other situation, but at the moment, she really wasn’t up to find anything funny.

“Just drive the damn car, Arthur!“ Victoria snapped, and Arthur flinched, his eyes wide as saucers.

A whimper escaped Colette as another contraction gripped her, and she curled up in the back seat, both hands clawed in the seat as the wave of pain ebbed away again. Her breathing was ragged, and she felt like she was slowly coming apart at the seams.

"Keep breathing," Victoria’s sharp voice came from her left side, and she felt a cool, smooth hand on her forehead. "Just keep breathing. You're doing great."

The words managed to cut through the panic, and Colette managed to gasp out a shuddering breath. “I-” she choked out, “I can’t…I can’t do this without Max, I-”

"You are doing it," Victoria cut in, her voice steady and sharp like a blade. "You are doing it, and you are going to be fine. Max will be by your side the moment he can, but you will make it until then. Just keep breathing and keep talking, you’re doing great."

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viceroywrites · 6 months ago

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deja vu - part 1

i decided to make a full-fledged multi-chapter fic out of this idea that i posted a few days ago with a cyoa ending potentially

thanks so much to everyone who showed so much love for it and hope you enjoy this series!

this is my first time writing for gravity falls so i hope to do it justice!

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

original fic idea | part two

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii /

@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby

He wasn’t in bed.

You woke up in the middle of the night to find the space beside you empty, the blankets cool to touch, indicating that a warm body had not even slipped into the sheets. Begrudgingly, you slip out of the warm comfort of your bed to search for your lover.

Your bare feet pad against the wood floorboards, creaking with each step you take. Your fingers balancing a candle that you used to illuminate the way, too lazy to try and turn on the lights.

You descend down to the basement, pushing open the metal door that reveals an intricate lab full of oddities and gadgets with a triangle shaped portal looming just behind the glass window. You let out a yawn, approaching the figure that had his back turned towards you. His six-fingers spin the pen in his hand effortlessly as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand.

Your soft yet groggy voice calls out as you place your hand on his shoulder, “Ford, come to bed. Your research will be here in the morning.”

Stanford jumps at your sudden touch before relaxing when he hears the sound of your voice. He puts his pen down, placing his hand over yours with his thumb running soothingly over the back of your hand, “I’ll be there soon, just head back upstairs. I just need to finish this last equation that's been driving me mad the whole day.”

“Stanford…” You say with an edge to your voice, knowing that he could easily stay up the rest of the night working tirelessly on this portal that he had been working on for the past few months.

“Alright… I concede. You win this round, my dear.” Ford sighs, turning to face you finally with a tired smile. He gets up from his seat, pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head before following you up the stairs but not before looking back at the portal.

You had the dream again.

It always starts the same. Walking down a staircase, the floorboards creaked with each step you took. Your eyelids feel heavy almost as if you’re resisting the urge to fall asleep. Your feet carrying you down to a basement. The warm flames of the candle you hold illuminating the way.

Your fingertips push the cool metal frame of the door to reveal a figure sitting in front of a desk, facing away from you. Your hand reaches out to touch their shoulder and as they turn around to reveal their face to you, you awaken.

Your eyes open abruptly, staring at the dark ceiling as your alarm echoes through the empty room. Slowly sitting up in bed, you instinctively reach across to turn off your alarm and turn on your lamp before your hand reaches to open the drawer of your bedside table, feeling around for something. Your fingertips brush against leather and wrap around the item, pulling it out to reveal a journal.

These dreams happened almost every night over the years. It had gotten to a point where you started logging them, just trying to find any pattern or meaning behind them.

You turn to the page labeled ‘The Basement’ - adding another tally mark in the margins that you used to keep track of the frequency of each dream. You close your eyes, trying to conjure up any distinguishable features from this mystery person but nothing new arises.

Sighing, you shut the leather-bound journal, putting it to the side.

Now was not the time to be worrying about your cryptic dreams, you were supposed to be getting ready for the trip you had been planning for the past few months.

A road trip through the Pacific Northwest, starting in Northern California and making your way up to Seattle.

You hop out of bed to start getting ready for your journey ahead. After completing your morning routine and slipping on some comfortable clothing for the long drive, you make your way to the kitchen, grabbing the map that was stuck to the fridge with a magnet from your alma mater, Backupsmore.

Having already packed your bags into the car the night before, your feet make a beeline out the door, wanting to hit the road before sunrise to give you enough time to hit the places you wanted to visit on the way up to your final destination for the day, Portland.

Unraveling the map in your lap, your eyes scan over it, reviewing over the route you had planned out today. Your gaze lingered on one particular spot you had circled closer to Portland that was unlike any of the stops you had chosen.

Gravity Falls.

You couldn’t explain what drew you in to choose this town to stop in out of all the surrounding towns near Portland. You knew that you had an old friend, Fiddleford, who had moved out to this area to do research. You had even visited him once during his time out there. However, you hadn’t heard from Fiddleford in years, correspondence seemingly dropping off as he stopped answering your calls and your letters always ended up returning to you.

Trying to push aside thoughts of your lost connection, you put your car in reverse, pulling out of your parking spot and heading out onto the open road. The winding roads take you through the lush forests that enveloped the region. As each hour passed, you could see the sun slowly starting to make its way up the horizon and decided to stop to watch the sunrise at Redwood National Park.

After the brief stop that you used to stretch your legs and grab a cup of coffee, you make your way back on the road. Your original plan was to stop at almost every National Park on the way up to Oregon but after hitting a pocket of traffic that put you behind a whole hour, you decide to skip a few stops and make your way directly to the town of Gravity Falls, figuring it would be your last stop with the remaining amount of daylight you had left.

Unfortunately, you had hit another bump in the road, pretty much derailing the first day of your methodically planned out trip.

Your car had suddenly stopped in the middle of the forest about five miles out from the town.

Cursing under your breath, you step out to assess the cause of your delay. Your hands pop open the hood of your car, breathing a slight sigh of relief when you don’t see any steam or smoke. Figuring that the most likely cause is the battery dying on you, you pull out your phone, trying to look up the nearest towing company to hopefully bring you into town to get it looked at.

As you’re waiting for the screen to load due to the poor signal out in this forested area, a gruff voice calls out, asking if you need a hand.

You look up to see a red convertible with the phrase ‘El Diablo’ etched on the side on the other side of the road. Its owner, a man with gray hair, glasses and a stubbled yet chiseled jawline, wearing a black tank, a shiny medallion that sat on his exposed graying chest hairs, and a brown leather jacket, stares back at you, one hand on the steering wheel while his arm dangles lazily outside of the rolled down window.

You pause, taken aback as something about his features seems… familiar. You quickly snap out of your stupor, realizing you’ve just been standing there in silence.

"Uhm… yeah if you have jumper cables, I just need to get my car running to get to the next town and hopefully get a replacement battery,” You reply, figuring this option would be way cheaper than hiring a whole tow truck.

"Of course, I have jumper cables, toots - look at my car, you think I haven't been stranded out here myself." The stranger chuckles, making an effortless U-Turn with one hand before pulling his car close to yours. Your cheeks warm at the nickname given to you by this man you met literally seconds ago, This guy’s a total silver fox.

You step to the side to give him access to hook up the jumper cables after he fishes them out of his own trunk. You both stand in silence while he attaches the cables to your car before his deep voice cuts through, "So uh, what brings you out here? You just driving through?"

You almost chuckle at his awkward attempt to make small talk, "Sort of. I'm doing a whole road trip through the Pacific Northwest. I was gonna check out this town ahead, Gravity Falls, before I make my way up to Portland."

The older man blinks, expecting you to just be passing through the town at this time of a day. Normally, tourists only stop into town in the early hours of the day on their own journeys up north. His lips spread into a grin, pulling out a business card from his leather jacket. "Well, if you're stopping by, you gotta check out the Mystery Shack! One stop shop for mysterious oddities!"

You take the business card with a giant question mark on the front. He retreats back to his car, turning on his engine before nodding over at you as a signal for you to start up your own engine. You slip back into the car, slipping the card into your pocket before turning on the ignition. You breathe a sigh of relief as your car stutters back to life. Glancing up, you see him grinning back at you before the two of you step out of your respective vehicles.

“Thanks again for your help… sorry, I didn’t catch your name. I’m Y/N.” You say, extending your hand out in gratitude. The silver fox’s large hand envelops yours, shaking your hand firmly, “Stan Pines, nice to meet ya. It’s no problem, wouldn’t want to leave a lady like yourself stranded in the middle of the woods.”

“Do you say that to all the ladies that end up stranded in the woods?” You can’t help but tease, earning a hearty chuckle from Stan. “Well, let’s just say that’s not a common occurrence out here. So you thinkin’ about stopping by the Mystery Shack?”

You pause, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you thumb the edge of the business card Stan had given you. On one hand, you should probably be heading back on the road to make it to Portland and this Mystery Shack sounded like a tourist trap. On the other hand, the sun was starting to set and you weren’t keen on driving through the forest in the dark. Maybe it would be best if you stayed the night in this quaint town and start again the next morning. As you look up at Stan, you make your decision, deciding to appease the man who helped you so graciously.

You also had to admit you found him quite charming and curiosity got the better of you.

“Sure, lead the way.” You say with a casual shrug. Stan grins, “I’ll make sure you get a personal tour of the Mystery Shack. No need to worry about other tourists.” Your eyebrow raises in amusement before slipping into your car, “What, you know the owner?” You blink at the smirk that spreads across Stan’s lips, “Sweetheart, you’re looking at the former owner, Mr. Mystery himself.”

You bite back a giggle, “No wonder you were laying it on thick, just trying to get more tourists to visit, huh?” Stan rolls his eyes mirthfully “Hey, I was trying to lend a helping hand… though I have a good sales pitch, don’t I?” He grins, shooting finger guns towards you with a wink.

This’ll be interesting. You think to yourself as you follow behind Stan in your car, pulling into the empty lot of the Mystery Shack. You snort, seeing how the S dangles off the side spelling out Mystery Hack, before pointing it out to Stan as he exits his car. His features grimace as he grumbles out, “I noticed” before beckoning you to follow him, twirling his keys on his index finger.

Stan proceeded to give you a detailed tour of the Mystery Shack, spinning elaborate tales surrounding the variety of taxidermy animals that he had mismatched together. Despite the absurdity of it all, you can’t help but get sucked into his tales, seeing the clear passion and excitement he had for this place. You burst out into laughter at the sight of the Sascrotch to which Stan beamed at, “Good one, right? Probably one of the highlights of the Mystery Shack.”

You weaved your way through the shack, though there were certain sections of it that looked oddly familiar. Almost like you had walked down these hallways before. A wave of deja vu hit you as you walked through the doorway into the gift shop. “Usually this is the part where I try to sell people on an overpriced souvenir but I have a feeling that the whole schtick isn’t gonna work on you, is it?” Stan admits.

“Probably not but I’ll take a look around and see if there’s anything that catches my eye.” You chuckle, making your way around the space as your eyes scan the various trinkets. Your fingertips run across the mugs with question marks painted on them. You decide to use this opportunity to make small talk as you mill around the gift shop while Stan leans back against the counter, “So, you said you’re the former owner? Who owns it now?”

“One of my former employees, Soos. Kid’s been working for me since he was… well a kid. Only person with as much passion as me about this place.” Stan says, glancing over at the Employee of the Month picture that still hung behind the counter that showed a younger Soos. “What made you step down as owner?” You hum, thumbing through the t-shirt rack.

Stan smiles fondly, “Me and my twin brother actually just got back from traveling, we’re only in town for the summer. It was always our dream to travel the world together by boat, and we finally got to make that happen.” You look up, smiling at how warmly he spoke of his brother. Stan catches you staring and crosses his arms defensively, “What?”

“Nothing,” You say, shaking your head before thumbing through the assortment of keychains and stickers that were displayed. “So twin brother, huh? What’s he like?”

“You’re sure asking a lot of questions… not sure if I should be flattered but it feels like I’m being interrogated by a government official.” Stan comments with a grin. You pause with dramatic effect before looking up and admitting, “Well technically, I do work for the government.”

Stan freezes, his stance becoming defensive as he looks you up and down, “Oh shit, really? Man, these cover-ups are getting better and better but I swear I haven’t broken any laws… recently at least.” Your warm laughter fills the room, finding the look on his face priceless, “Relax, I work for the National Parks.” Stan’s posture relaxes at the realization and he rolls his eyes, “Alright, you got me good. So what do you do? Are you like a park ranger or something?”

“No, I’m a geoscientist. I pretty much study rocks and fossils. Kinda boring day to day but sometimes I’ll come across a precious gemstone and keep it for myself… even though we’re not supposed to take anything off a dig site.” You admit sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Using the government’s resources to your own advantage? I like the way you think.” Stan chuckles.

You pick out a magnet to add to your fridge when you return as a reminder of your side quest at the Mystery Shack. Stan rings you up though you notice a significant markdown in the original price after he insists on giving you the employee discount. As you walk out of the gift shop outside, you round the corner back to your car.

Little did you know that you would run into the man that you once loved as someone with a long tan trench coat was outside fiddling with a device with his back turned to you. Stan elbows you in the arm to catch your attention, "That's my poindexter brother that I mentioned, Ford. He's always working on some geeky invention."

"You know I can hear you, Stanley?" Ford sighs, turning around to face you two.

Time slows down as he meets your eyes, memories flooding back to him before landing on the last memory he had of you - your back turning away from him, your hand slipping through his fingers after he chose to continue with his research despite your pleas.

He freezes, seeing the woman that left him all those years ago, "Y/N?" He calls out to you.

You blink, staring back at this man that you had never met before calling out your name.

Stan is just as confused as you are, looking between the two of you.

You tilt your head in confusion, “Uhm… sorry, have we met before? How do you know my name?”

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfiction #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls x you #stan pines #stanford pines #stanley pines x reader #ford pines x reader

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ginnsbaker · 3 months ago

Text

All Of Your Pieces (1 - Honey! I shrunk the kids! 18+)

Summary: Wanda accidentally shrinks your kids while trying out a spell that would benefit both of you in the bedroom; Jimmy and Darcy attempt to find out more about the Hex, particularly when they discover a remarkable detail about you. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Tags: Smut, Campy Humor, Language

A/N: I've been working on this series since late August and have finally figured out what to do with it, enough to share it with you all. The story will be told in three parts: Westview (The Missing Town), Pre-Westview, and Post-Westview. This follows some events in WandaVision, but it's very canon-divergent. It's going to be different from my other works (I've never written humor before and I'm quite insecure about that), as this one is very plot-driven but at the same time, still very much Wanda x Reader (especially in parts 2 and 3). Updates will be every Wednesday. Chapters will be 2.5–3.5k words long, except for the ending chapters of each part, which are twice as long. So, without further ado… More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Honey! I shrunk the kids!”

Wanda bursts into the basement, apron billowing out like a cape. Except, there's no draft down here; that apron shouldn't be moving like that at all. But then again, considering your wife’s claim, maybe the laws of physics are taking a day off.

You glance up from the miniature model home you’re meticulously working on, unsure if you heard her right. Did she really just say that?

“You what?”

Wanda, flushed and a little breathless, skids to a stop in front of you. “Okay, so I was experimenting with a new spell, one that was supposed to…” She bites her lip, hesitating, her face glowing a deeper shade of red. “...it was supposed to do something else, but it backfired and... well, it’s not important right now!”

“Jesus, Wanda.”

Your poor, beautiful, occasionally clumsy wife stands there, teetering between a freak-out and a fit of giggles.

“It was an accident! I didn't mean to!” Wanda shrieks, causing the room to tremble from her panic.

Wanda's powers have always been a wildcard. You can child-proof the entire house in a day, but that definitely doesn't cover child-proofing Wanda herself—especially not when your kids are involved. Luckily, the boys have inherited some special abilities of their own, which leaves you as the sole non-superpowered member of the household. With that in mind, you know better than to panic. Getting worked up alongside her would only escalate things, and you’re not exactly keen on being shrunk next.

“Okay…where are they now?” you ask as calmly as you can manage.

Wanda takes a deep breath and leads you to the living room. You trail her in silence, clutching at composure. It can’t be that bad, right? The distant sound of playful music trickling through the house almost makes it seem like everything’s fine. You hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that you think about it, it’s like your brain has learned to associate that kind of tune with situations that somehow always end in collective sighs of relief.

Sighs, giggles, and applause—sounds that don't belong to Wanda or the boys.

Where are they coming from?

Before your mind can completely sink into the oddities of your life here in Westview, Wanda halts in the middle of the living room. Your eyes dart around, searching for Billy and Tommy, but they’re nowhere to be seen.

“Where?”

“Right there,” Wanda points toward the coffee table, her finger trembling slightly.

You squint in the direction she’s pointing. Next to the TV remote, two tiny figures wave up at you—your sons, each about the size of your thumb.

“Oh my god, they’re tiny!” you gasp, covering your mouth with your hand. You expected them to be at least half their normal size—a size they might grow out of eventually.

“Shhhh, Y/N!” Wanda hisses, pressing her index finger to her lips. “The neighbors might hear you.”

Neighbors. Which usually means just Agnes from next door. There’s literally several meters of spaces between your houses, but somehow, she always manages to hear things she shouldn’t and pries like she’s in some perfectly timed routine.

Wanda kneels by the coffee table, her eyes soft. “I told them to stay right there until we sorted this out.”

The twins start making noises, sounding like tiny bells, though still hard to make out. You pull out a magnifying glass from your back pocket—has that been there the whole time?—making sure your sons are okay. As soon as the lenses zoom in on their faces, you're relieved to see them laughing uproariously, seemingly unbothered by their predicament.

“They seem... happy?” you say, lowering the magnifying glass.

“They think it's hilarious,” Wanda grumbles, her lips curling into a pout.

“So,” you sigh, pushing yourself to your feet. “Any ideas on how to fix this?” You're tempted to suggest just letting it run its course, waiting for the spell to fizzle out, but you know Wanda wouldn’t go for that. She's fiercely protective of the twins, and you can't blame her—it’s all her handiwork, after all.

Then you hear it—a hiccup. Another follows, and then another, each one a little louder than the last.

Before you know it, Wanda's a sobbing mess.

You cup her face in your hands. “Hey, hey...it’s okay,” you murmur, gently brushing away a tear with your thumb.

Wanda’s breath hitches as she looks at you, her eyes brimming with worry. “What if I can’t fix it?”

“We will,” you promise, looking into her eyes.

A collective ‘awww’ rings in your ears, pulling you out of the moment. What the hell—where did that come from? You've had this creepy feeling of being watched lately, and it's only getting worse.

Wanda brings you back to focus when she nuzzles into your palm. “Oh, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You give her a small, lopsided grin and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Good thing you’ll never have to find out.” Something passes over her eyes as soon as you say it, but it vanishes in a split-second, replaced by a moment of inspiration.

“Wait,” she bursts out, stepping away from your embrace. “I think I have an idea.”

She heads straight for the fridge, and you trail after her, holding your breath.

“I’ve been trying to reverse it, but my magic isn’t cooperating. It’s like... it’s tangled,” Wanda mutters, yanking things out of the fridge.

You scowl, arms crossed, watching her. “Tangled? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. The more I try to fix it, the worse it gets. Like it has a life of its own,” she says. she says. After a few more seconds of rummaging, Wanda finally grabs a tetra pack of chocolate milk—the twins' favorite.

“I’m hoping this will do the trick,” she says, giving the carton a shake.

You cock your head, clueless on what’s going on. “Honey, what’s going on?”

Wanda mumbles, barely glancing up as she vigorously shakes the carton. “Just doing what it says—’Shake well before serving.’”

You roll your eyes, muttering, “This woman...”. Then louder, you ask, “I mean, what’s the chocolate got to do with our tiny children?”

Wanda stops mid-shake, a look of realization dawning on her face. “Oh, right,” she slaps her forehead. “You can’t read minds. I keep forgetting,” she chuckles, setting down the carton with a sheepish grin.

There it is again—a chorus of laughter from somewhere far off. Your mouth twitches at the sound—it’s really starting to get on your nerves. You make a mental note to bring it up with Wanda later.

Wanda gathers herself, then pitches her plan. “Instead of directly casting a spell on the twins, I think it’s safer to enchant this chocolate milk.” She picks up the carton again, giving it a final shake. “The idea is to infuse the milk with a spell that will gradually restore them to their normal sizes.”

You nod, beginning to understand what she’s trying to do. “Sounds less risky than zapping them with more magic head on.”

“Exactly,” she agrees, her eyes lighting up with excitement. You’d swear she’s getting a kick out of this macabre parenting hack—kids and all. The background tune keeps playing, like a promise that the universe won’t let things turn to shit. You’re wondering if maybe Wanda hears it too.

“This way, the magic is diluted and can adjust more naturally with their systems. It’s like... sneaking the cure into their bodies,” she says, snapping her fingers, red swirls of magic emanating from them to the carton of milk.

“I'm so proud of you, baby,” you say, leaning in for a quick kiss which she happily accepts. “For finding a fix, I mean. The whole shrinking our kids thing? Still not great.”

–

“What kind of spell do you think Wanda was going for?” Darcy asks, her eyes fixed on the credits rolling across the screen before it fades to black. She’s really gotten into Wanda’s little show, a welcome distraction from the freezing depths of hell that is New Jersey in November. Though exciting things are finally happening to her, the timing couldn't be worse.

“No clue,” Jimmy mutters, his attention glued to the laptop in front of him. It’s been two days since Quantico sent him to look into the bizarre case of a missing town—a phenomenon almost unheard of in the 21st century. Upon arriving, they discovered that the town in question, Westview, was enveloped by some sort of anomaly—or a Hex, as Darcy has started calling it, referring to the hexagonal shape of the barrier encasing the town.

Around the same time as the discovery, S.W.O.R.D. agent Monica Rambeau was quite literally sucked into the anomaly by accident. The only breakthrough has been Darcy Lewis’ detection of the signals, providing them with a window into the mysterious shroud, even helping them identify some of the show's characters as actual residents of the town.

But overall, they're still desperately trying to piece together why this is happening and how to stop it.

Darcy peeks over at the data on Jimmy’s screen. “Find anything new?”

Jimmy sighs in frustration. “No, not really. Everything we dig up just adds more questions instead of answers.”

“Like what, for instance?”

Instead of answering directly, he slides a thick file across the table toward her. “See for yourself.”

Darcy catches the file and starts flipping through it. Murmuring, she says, “So, Google finally returned search results?” The stack of papers is downright daunting. Jimmy’s right—any mountain of information would raise more questions than answers.

“No, not Google,” Jimmy corrects her. “Stark's highly confidential database did. The woman Wanda's married to in Westview? She’s not in any public records. Turns out her records were wiped clean two years ago.”

Darcy looks up, puzzled. “Why would Stark's company have this?”

“Just read, Darcy. It’s all in there,” he says, turning his full attention back to his research.

Darcy frowns slightly and begins scanning through the pages more attentively. It takes her a few minutes to piece together the information she's reading, with her mind going in different directions and still burning with curiosity about the spell Wanda botched.

Finally, she reads aloud, somewhat incredulously, “Subject was recognized as S.H.I.E.L.D.'s youngest marksmanship prodigy prior to recruitment by Stark Industries following the dissolution of S.H.I.E.L.D.. Subsequently provided tactical support on multiple classified operations in conjunction with the Avengers initiative.”

She sets the file down thoughtfully. “Kinda reminds me a bit of Romanoff or Barton. Total badass. I hadn’t pegged Maximoff for that crowd.”

“What crowd did you have Wanda filed under?” Jimmy asks, just out of curiosity.

Darcy’s gaze drifts off, a dreamy smirk on her lips. “Honestly? I always pictured her—or anyone for that matter—swooning over someone more…mythical hammer than tactical espionage.”

Jimmy snorts to himself at Darcy's whimsical take and says, “Of course, you’d say that. Thor's everyone's type.”

“He’s yours too?”

“Yeah, why not,” Jimmy shrugs, his tone more reluctant than sarcastic, which only amuses Darcy more.

“So,” Darcy begins, “Wanda's settled down in New Jersey, married to a woman? I mean, good for her. They all deserve a break. Maybe even an early retirement.”

Jimmy lets out a long, tired sigh, like he's just about done with everything. Darcy notices and raises an eyebrow. “What now?”

He barely glances up. “Like I said, everything’s in there. Just keep reading.”

Darcy groans but goes back to the file, flipping through the pages again. She’s about to make a snarky comment when something catches her attention—something that has her eyes practically popping out of their sockets.

“It… it says here Y/N’s dead.”

“That’s right,” Jimmy responds without missing a beat.

“Not snapped five years ago. Dead-dead.”

“Yep.”

Darcy stares at the page, disbelief all over her face. “That can’t be right, can it?”

Jimmy finally swivels his chair to face her, looking as tired as he sounds. “That’s what I’ve been trying to wrap my head around for hours. If aliens and superheroes are real, maybe bringing someone back from the dead to star in a sitcom isn’t so far-fetched, right?”

–

You carefully pull the blankets up over Billy, smoothing his hair and whispering a soft good night. Tommy’s already half-asleep, but you make sure to tuck him in just as snugly, brushing a kiss on his forehead. Wanda stands in the doorway, watching you, her heart swelling in her chest. You were so clueless when she first had the twins, but now, being a mother just seems to come naturally to you.

And you pulled it off in a week, while the twins stretched into six-year-olds just as fast.

“Honey,” you call softly, noticing the way she’s lost in thought. “Aren’t you going to say good night to our boys?”

Wanda steps into the room, giving each of the boys their good night kiss. You pucker your lips, silently asking for your turn, and she playfully swats your arm, whispering, “Not here, baby.”

You pout, giving her your best puppy-dog eyes, which only makes her smile. Without warning, you grab her hand and hurriedly pull her out of the boys' room, making a beeline for your bedroom. Wanda’s laughter fills the hallway, and just as you reach the door, you suddenly sweep her off the ground, lifting her into your arms.

Wanda lets out a shriek, her laughter infectious, and you can’t help but grin, even as you let her thump onto the mattress—a sloppy, graceless drop. You follow her onto the bed, rolling onto your stomach to peer down at her, still sporting that stupid smile.

“So, about that kiss you owe me,” you whisper, hovering closer, teasing her with your proximity.

Wanda nods distractedly. “I think I can manage that,” she murmurs, and then her lips are on yours.

It starts simple and sweet. Though soon, her tongue is gently nudging your lips apart, and it quickly becomes anything but. Her hands slip down to your back, pulling you close until her heartbeat hammering against yours. You break away, lips trailing down to her neck, exploring every dip and hollow, your tongue darting out to taste her skin. When you hit that spot just behind her ear, the one that always drives her wild, she gasps.

“Don't start something you can’t finish,” she warns, her voice already thick with want.

“Who says I won't?” you shoot back with a wolfish grin.

You both fall into a familiar routine, as easy to slip into as the back of your hand. There’s no hurry, just the two of you moving languidly—whispering against skin, giggles turning into sighs and breathy moans. Sometimes, being with Wanda feels like a desperate need, as if not having her completely would literally be the end of you. But it’s moments like these that are your favorite—the ones where you’re barely even trying, yet she still comes apart at your touch, at the mere feeling of your fingers on her.

Eventually, you both settle down, a contented sigh escaping you as you curl up against Wanda, your skin slightly damp with the effort of your love. You like this, being the little spoon, hiding your face in her neck like you’re hiding from the world, though you vaguely recall a time when it was usually her in your arms.

As you’re staggering on the edge of sleep, Wanda’s fingers gently massage your scalp, her lips dropping soft, pensive kisses on your forehead. You're almost out, but one last question keeps you from drifting off entirely.

“Wanda, that spell earlier that shrunk the boys—what was that about?” you mumble, your words slurring into the dream nipping at your consciousness.

Wanda’s laughter rumbles through her chest, nudging you slightly from your drowsy state.

“Come on, tell me,” you coax, giving her side a playful pinch to keep her talking.

“It’s embarrassing,” she mumbles, her face turning a delightful shade of pink again that spreads down her neck and chest. Her coy reaction wakes you up some more. As a twisted kind of payback, you run your tongue rough over her nipple, snatching a sharp gasp from her. Moving up, you hold her flushed cheek, making sure she’s looking right at you. Your thigh presses between hers, and it doesn’t take long before she’s wet and ready again.

“Are you going to tell me, or do you plan on sleeping with a wet pussy tonight?” you whisper, brushing your lips against the corner of her mouth. Under different circumstances, Wanda would scold you for your crudeness, but right now, she's too worked up to care. Your dirty mouth has always been one of the most irritating yet irresistible things about you. Even having kids hasn’t changed that.

“I was trying to... enchant your...” she starts, but then your hand tightens on her butt, spurring her subtle grinding movements. By this time, she’s practically dripping onto the sheets, her thoughts scattering as the tightening sensation below her stomach builds.

“My what?” you push, smirking as you watch her fumble for words. You hoist her leg, resting it on your shoulder, laying her wide open. You slide two fingers inside her, fucking her slowly while your thumb brutally circles her clit. As she hesitates to answer, you hook in another finger, drawing a sharp cry of pleasure from Wanda. Your gaze stays locked on your wife, a part of you as surprised as she might be at your boldness tonight.

All day, she’s haunted every corner of your mind, fantasizing about stealing a quick, desperate moment while the twins are asleep or at Agnes’s. But there’s been something—an unnameable restraint—holding you back from indulging those wicked impulses. It isn’t until the boys are asleep, the house quiet, that those invisible chains start to loosen. That’s when you can finally allow yourself to desire Wanda the way you really want to. The way you’ve always been meant to.

“Your... clit,” Wanda finally spits out, seeing you've drifted off, stuck in your head. “I thought I could make it... well, longer. Like a...” She chokes on the words, too embarrassed to finish.

“Like a cock?” you throw out crudely, looking down at her impishly.

Wanda nods, mortified but also a little defiant. “Wanted you to fuck me with it,” she mumbles, finding her backbone now that the secret's in the open.

“I am fucking you,” you whisper hotly right into her ear. “But if you want it like that, all you have to do is say the word.”

Wanda clenches around you at the thought of doing it like that in the near future, her breath hitching. “Please,” she mewls, the word dripping with need.

“Good girl,” you growl, cranking up the pace as you drive your fingers harder inside her, making her gasp and arch towards you. “You can come.”

With a choked whimper, Wanda surrenders, her body seizing as her orgasm washes over her. She soaks your wrist, the clear fluid trickling down onto the sheets, but you don't stop, pushing through every pulse of her release until she's quaking, utterly wrecked beneath you. You patiently wait until her spasms subside before slowly pulling your fingers away.

Wanda's hand shoots out, stopping your movements. “Stay,” she implores, sounding like she's on the verge of tears. You're momentarily startled by her reaction, concerned something might be wrong. Swiftly, you slide your fingers back where they belong, nestled deep inside her.

“Okay, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” you murmur, pushing back the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead with your free hand. Exhaustion begins to cloud your senses as you sink down beside Wanda, still keeping your hand where she wants it.

“I'm sorry for needing you so much,” Wanda murmurs, her voice shaky with tears you can't see, your cheek pressed against the pillow beside hers.

“Don't be,” you mumble, half-lost to sleep as she clings to you more tightly. “I’m here.”

“You love me,” she says, a hint of wonder, of fear.

You nod, lips brushing the nape of her neck. “And you love me,” you murmur back, your eyes slipping shut. “I'm not going anywhere, Wanda.”

“For now,” she whispers to herself, once your breathing evens out in sleep.

Tears betray her then, and she clamps a hand over her mouth to keep quiet. But just before her sobs fully break free, she flicks a finger, a thin red wisp of magic ensuring you stay deep in sleep.

With you unaware, Wanda surrenders to her grief.

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