#he is more british to me than he is American

[piastriprincess]

the day that i met you (i started dreaming)  ⸻  george  russell  x  reader  .

featuring  george  russell  ,  american!reader  ,  meet  cute  ,  fluff . word  count  1.6k author’s  note  requested  by  anon  ,  i  hope  i  did  it  justice  !  this is my first  time  writing  for  george  but  i  actually  love  the  way  it  turned  out  !  i  know  he  lives  in  monaco  now but  he’s  a  proper  english  gent  to  me  forever  .  i  used  some  details  from  my  own  study  abroad  so  don’t  tell  me  it’s  not  accurate  …   it  is  TO  ME  !  argue  with  the  wall  .  come  tell  me  what  you  thought  of  the  fic  or  send  me  a  req  <3  title  from  kingston  by  faye  webster  .

21:  library  books  and  pouring  rain  .

Your first day in London wasn’t supposed to turn out like this, you think bitterly. 

It had started off perfect, really. You woke up to the sun streaming into the windows of your brand-new apartment flat, a tiny, cozy little place to call home while you did your PhD year abroad. With the heat of late summer still hanging in the air, you ventured out to the university library. Walking down the cobblestone streets of Covent Garden towards the imposing neo-Gothic building, admiring the charming little brick buildings with their flower box windows, you were feeling more inspired than you’d ever been back home. You could picture yourself in a movie, the charming young American heroine taking on a big city for the first time. The library was beautiful too, an airy circular room with books stacked all the way up to a massive domed skylight. Although your dissertation was still a somewhat blurry concept, the stack of borrowed books you’d collected and printouts you’d carefully annotated felt like progress, and you hugged them to your chest like a shield as you walked out through the stately oak double doors. Yes, things were going well in London.

Everything was going so well, in fact, that you didn’t think to check the weather before you left the library. Rookie mistake. 

The first drop fell with a fat, ominous splat on your cheek; it was enough to make you pause in the middle of the sidewalk and look up quizzically at the hazy grey sky. You swear you only stopped for a second, but it was enough. The skies cracked open suddenly, and before you knew it the rain was coming down like sheets and soaking through your shirt. 

You didn’t think. You just broke into a run, sneakers splashing through puddles and arms clutching your precious papers to your chest. By the time you managed to duck underneath the eaves of the nearest building — a cozy, golden-lit little café you hadn’t noticed on your earlier walk — you were completely drenched. 

And now here you are, hair plastered to your forehead, jeans suctioned to your legs. And your research. Oh, your research. The ink on your printouts is as hopelessly smeared and runny as your mascara, and the spines on some of your books are so warped they look like they’re cringing right along with you. Forget the charming heroine, you think — you’re a bumbling fool, completely undone by basic British weather. The pouring rain doesn’t look like it’s letting up anytime soon, and you don’t even have an umbrella. Carefully placing your books on the ground, you slump against the wall, watching the rain blur the sharp edges of the buildings as hot tears prick at the back of your eyes. 

A little bell chimes from somewhere over your head, the café door opens, and then a voice: “Blimey. Are you alright?”

You look up sharply at the man standing above you and nearly gasp. Dashing, that’s the only word to describe him — tall and lean in a way that makes your cheeks heat up, chestnut hair falling effortlessly across his forehead, and big, brilliant blue eyes trained directly on your face. You’re suddenly very aware of how you probably look, makeup smudged under your eyes and your clothes clinging to your body. You wipe quickly at your eyes, straightening up. “Oh. I’m fine, thanks,” you say as you tuck a soggy strand of hair behind your ear, and you hate how hollow it sounds. 

“American,” he says, a note of surprise in his voice. You nod in response. “Well, welcome to London,” he says, smiling, and your stomach flips. 

You try to smile back, but it’s forced. “Thanks. Bit of a rough first day.”

He frowns. “Well. That won’t do. London’s brilliant, you can’t have a bad impression of it right off. Here, take this.”

He holds out an umbrella to you, handle first. It’s sleek, black, expensive — the type of thing carried by a man who plans ahead, who’s never, ever surprised. There’s a little circular logo carved into the handle, three lines converging in the center. Mercedes, you think distantly, although you’re not sure you’re right; you don’t know a thing about cars. You stare at the umbrella, at everything it represents, for an instant longer, then back up at him. “I can’t,” you say reluctantly. “How would I get it back to you?”

That stops him short, and he stands there considering for a moment. You take the opportunity to drink him in again, eyes trailing up the oxford shirt with the rolled up shirtsleeves exposing tanned, muscular forearms, the strong jawline, the full lips. 

“Well, I’m heading home too,” he says finally, with a soft smile. “I don’t mind walking you.” 

You hesitate again. You don’t know him, and normally you would be more suspicious of a strange man knowing where you live. But — and it sounds crazy, but you know it — he’s a gentleman. There’s something in the way he’s looking at you, like the romantic lead of a period drama, telling you it would really be his honor to escort you home. Against all odds, you find yourself wanting to say yes. 

“Okay. But you have to tell me your name first,” you say, raising your eyebrows. You tell yourself you’re being safe, making sure he’s not a serial killer. But really, you just want to know it. 

He laughs a little at that, though you’re not sure why it’s funny, and extends his hand to you. “George. George Russell.” 

You shake his hand, and tell him your name in return. He repeats it, and it sounds like honey dripping off his tongue, sweeter than you’ve ever heard it before. You let him step closer to you and open the umbrella above your heads, and he scoops your books under his arm without even asking you. It’s so ridiculously kind, reminds you so much of home, that your heart does a little stutter in your chest. 

“Right, shall we?” he says, his shoulder brushing against yours as you maneuver slowly down the sidewalk. The contact feels electric, heat pooling under your skin. “So tell me, how’d you end up in London?”

You’re not normally so open with someone you barely know. Maybe it’s the way that he’s the first person on this continent who feels like he’s actually listening to you, maybe you just want him to know you, but you open your mouth and the words start spilling out. You tell him about your dissertation, your family back home, how scary it is to be in a completely unfamiliar world, but exciting too. He’s quiet as he listens, thoughtful in his responses: he’s close to his family, tells you all about his travels all over the globe for work. The walk is all too short. You find yourself wanting to know everything about him now that you’ve had a little taste. 

“Thank you,” you say as you gather your papers in your hands, reluctant to leave now that you’ve reached your destination. “You really didn’t have to do all this.”

“Couldn’t very well leave a damsel in distress, could I?” he smiles at you, those big blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “Wouldn’t have been very gentlemanly of me.”

You smile up at him, and it isn’t forced at all. “Well. Thank you anyway, George.” He’s looking down at you through his lashes, eyes soft. The air between you feels charged, weighty. If this were a movie, he’d kiss you right now, and there’d be nothing gentlemanly about it. You think, for a moment, that you see him leaning in; your eyes flutter shut, and—

George clears his throat, blinking hard. “No problem.”

Your eyes snap open, cheeks burning with embarrassment. You let go of the umbrella, and it feels like you’re letting go of something important, something you should be holding onto with both hands. But there was a moment, you know there was. And he didn’t take it. You turn, walking slowly up your steps, shoulders set just a little lower than they were before. 

You’re fumbling for your keys, about to go inside, when he calls your name. You turn around. “Yeah?”

He shuffles his feet slightly, like he can’t decide whether to walk away or come closer. He’s nervous, you realize, and your heart swoops in your chest watching the soft line of his mouth as he worries his lip in between his teeth. “C-could I get your number? You know, in case you need another escort out of the rain.”

You just smile at him, pulling your phone out of your pocket and tossing it to him with rain-slick hands. He catches it — reflexes surprisingly quick — and starts tapping in a new contact. You watch his brows knit together slightly as he types before handing it back to you, his fingers brushing over yours. You don’t even pretend to ignore the sparks that simmer under your skin this time, and at the last moment you press up on your tiptoes to give him a kiss on the cheek before you head back up the stairs. George goes pink up to the ears and stands there for a moment, fingers pressed against the spot your lips touched, smiling at you like he can't believe you're real.

Maybe you were the heroine all along, you think dreamily to yourself, standing on your stoop as you watch his back retreat into the rain. You just got the genre wrong. He's the one who turns around this time, like he can’t help but take one last look at you before he rounds the corner, and you smile so wide your cheeks hurt. 

Funny that. You were in a romance the whole time. 

[sunshineandlyrics]

Jesse Eisenberg with the press after he won best Original Screenplay for 'A Real Pain' at the BAFTA Film Awards 2025, 16 February 2025.

[a-a-a-anon]

if i had a nickel for every time a male british comedian i like said that on a childhood birthday a patriarch in their family said they were too old to hug and kiss them bc it's girly/gay i would have two nickels???? which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice....

(ade edmondson:)

(jon richardson:)

I went to kiss my granddad once-I would have only been about 7 or 8, but I'd had clearly what my grandad viewed as a landmark birthday. I went to say goodbye, and I kissed my Nana Gwen and went to kiss my Grandad Ron, and Grandad Ron said, "You're a man now. You don't kiss other men anymore." (- meet the richardsons 2.08)

[achillean-knight]

JUST watched a video about the Afton's and I really love their British accents, but I've seen people dislike it so.... I'm curious. Reblogs or comments welcomed, I really want to know people's thoughts on this!

[majorshatterandhare]

Apparently my brain really hates when names have A, U, and R in them, because without fail, every time I go to type Arthur my brain wants to spell it “Aurthur” or perhaps “Aurthr” and every time I go to type Marius my brain wants to type “Mauris” or maybe “Maurius” or maybe “Maurias” its unclear because I *usually* notice my mistake by the end because it’s clear to me those ending are wrong. Brain just really wants “AUR” together.

[writers-potion]

Writing Character Accents in Fiction

Hey there, thanks for the question! I speak English as a second language; most English speakers I encounter aren’t native (yes, including fictional people); thus, this is a concern I’ve explored personally when I write. 

I think the core principle regarding accent writing is this: it shouldn’t be distracting. 

For the same reasons why Stephen King prescribes the basic dialogue tag “said” rather than fancier alternatives like “whispered”, “shouted” or “screeched”, dialogue must be first and foremost easy to read. It must flow like a real conversation – the pace and tone are a lot more important than how specific words are being pronounced by the character. 

Focus on what effect the accent has:

Using adjectives to describe their voice in general. Different types of English (American, British, Australian, etc.) will give off a different vibe, also partly dependent on how your character speaks in general:

Lilting: Having a smooth rise and falling quality; sing-song like. Welsh accent is often described as singing. 

Posh: from a high social class. This is the term generally used to describe the upper-class British accent.

Nasal: this happens when the sound goes through somebody’s nose when they’re speaking. North American accents are more nasal than, say, British pronunciations. 

Brash: harsh, loud, indicative of sounding a little rude. 

Slur: speaking indistinctly; words merging into one another.

Using metaphors.

Her voice was cotton and fluffy clouds. 

When he spoke, the ‘r’s scratched the insides of his throat. 

Mentioning their accent with a brief example(s). 

“Would you like to drink some wine?” she said, though her Indian accent gave extra vibration to her ‘w’s and ‘r’s, making the words sound more like ‘vould you like to drrrink some vine’.

“I want some chocolate.” His syllables were choppy and ‘l’s rather flat, saying ‘cho-ko-lit’. 

Some Tips:

Don’t phonically spell out everything. Perhaps give a few examples in the beginning, but stick to standard English spellings. 

Pay attention to word choice, slang, and colloquialisms. 

An Australian person would say “tram”, not “trolley; “runners” instead of “sneakers”

A Canadian may refer to a “fire hall” – what Americans call a firehouse or fire station

If your character comes from a non-Enligsh background:

Use vocabulary from other languages. 

“What time was the exam, ah? Two o’clock? Jiayou!” → putting “ah” or “la” at the end of sentences + Jiayou means “break a leg” in Singlish. 

“I can’t believe that 4-year-olds have their own SNS accounts now.” → “SNS” is short for “social networking service”, a term used to refer to social media in Korea. This would a subtle difference – even though it isn’t technically Korean at all!

Transpose grammar from different languages. 

For example, in French, plural nouns take plural adjectives (whereas in English, you would speak of ‘white cars’, not ‘whites cars’).

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

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💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

[neroushalvaus]

Tumblr in the 60s

☮ monkeewholock follow

🎉🎉CONGRATULATIONS UNITED KINGDOM 🎊🎊🎉🎉🎉🎉BYE BYE GROSS INDECENCY!!!!🌈🌈🌈 62 countries have now legalized sexual activities between men🌈🌈🌈

🐞 homophilespock follow

SPIRK CAN FINALLY FUCK

🚀 starrfleet follow

They are American, not British... But I'm pretty sure spirk has always been able to fuck since the show is set in the future.

📻 lesbianbobdylan follow

Christ, this is not about your cutesy uwu yaoi otp, go outside and smoke some grass

10,8 t. notes

🌻 flowerpower follow

Politicians are not your friends but damn Kennedy is fine, I look at one (1) picture of him and my head literally explodes

🌻 flowerpower follow

...i just woke up, why is my askbox full

🌻 flowerpower follow

WHY IS HE TRENDING I'M SCARED

🌻 flowerpower follow

guys stop reblogging this it's been like five years i've changed

290,9 t. notes

🎹 nixonsafascist follow

do you think they call him little richard because he has a little. Richard

🎹 nixonsafascist follow

easy website

58,1 t. notes

🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow

Being the only lesbian in your friend group sucks so bad. "beatles or stones??" i will kill you

🗣 lavendermenaceisreal-deactivated72537262

Disrespecting female social groups for male validation? Typical lesbian behaviour.

🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow

Mike Jacker isnt gonna fuck you

🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow

Oh no I think she couldn't handle that

77 notes

✌ draftdodgerdyke

DM me for the addresses of my Swedish and Canadian friends. Do not put your personal information in the reblogs.

🙍‍♀️ silvermilk follow

You should be ashamed of yourself.

✌ draftdodgerdyke

huh??

🙍‍♀️ silvermilk follow

I said, you should be ashamed of yourself. You disgust me. I assure you, when the commies attack us, you will not find your silly little post "groovy" anymore.

✌ draftdodgerdyke

Jesus, don't flip your wig

🙍‍♀️ silvermilk follow

My father fought in ww2 for you ungrateful degenerate.

✌ draftdodgerdyke

Don't see what your daddy's unsexiness has to do with me and my lads taking a sexy sexy trip to Sweden.

#anyway only hot guys dodge the draft

587 notes

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow

in every interview i watch of the beatles they are so DONE and trolling everybody, these fucking annoying BITCHES, i need them inside me so badly

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow

#this but not john lennon #i just can't forget the heinous things he said about jesus

idk I actually think it was very sexy of him, stop trying to cancel john in my post

✝️ jesusrevolution follow

The reading comprehension on this website is piss poor. John literally didn't mean he was greater than Jesus or better than Jesus, he was just trying to make a point about the world becoming more secular. Cancel culture has gone too far.

🚷 to-hell-with-the-beatles follow

How dare you say we piss on the poor?? Jesus died for Mr Lennon's sins and it's not "cancelling" to send him a few respectably worded death threats to remind him of that. He cancelled our Lord first!

✝️ jesusrevolution follow

Girl Jesus literally said it's cool, I dropped acid yesterday and saw Him and He told me.

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow

help the girls (christians) are fighting in my beatles thirst post

6,008 notes

🛼 donovandyke follow

I will be glued to the tv today. If you don't want to hear about it, just blacklist #moonlanding !!

0 notes

🗣 claudeberger4ever-deactivated98975287

Hi I'm new to the Hair musical fandom so I'm not super invested in the whole discourse, but I just felt like this needed to be said: Friendly reminder that not being against the war in Vietnam does not make you a bad person!

🥁 ringoforpresident follow

it literally does tho

✌ draftdodgerdyke

Another win for us hot guys

17,2 t. notes

[sunrizef1]

Girl back home

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x wife!reader

Warnings: cursing (I think)

Authors note: this took forever, but now I can actually work on whiv now that I’ve finished this

Summary: Everyone keeps trying to set Logan up, but no one bothers to ask if he's already got a girl (surprise! he does!)

Word Count: 4.2k (jesus)

“What about her? she’s pretty,” Alex asks as he points at the five hundredth model to walk past the Williams garage that day.

If it hadn’t been his home race, Logan might have walked away an hour ago when Alex’s pointing started but instead, he stayed, choosing to endure Alex’s unrelenting matchmaking.

“No, Alex. I’ve already said no to about 50 other girls you’ve pointed out, what makes you think she’d be different,” Logan groans, his head leaning back to rest against the wall behind them.

Alex purses his lips, a frown on his face, “Why won’t you let me get you a girlfriend?”

Logan pauses to stare at the ceiling of the garage for a second before he turns his head to face the man next to him, “I don’t need a girlfriend.”

“Yeah sure man, I’ve seen you stare quietly at a wall by yourself more times than you’d probably admit. If that doesn’t scream “I need a girlfriend” then I don’t know what does,” Alex shrugs before turning back to face away from his friend, his hand coming back up to point at a pretty-faced blonde girl making her way past the garage, even smiling when she locks eyes with Logan, “Ooh what about her? She seems to like you!”

Logan just hums in response, his eyes closing as he leaves Alex to talk to himself.

In reality, Logan truly didn’t need a girlfriend. He had something even better, a wife. Who also happened to be you. You had met when you were kids and had been in love ever since. You liked to joke that it was love at first sight but every time you said it, Logan would wonder how much of a joke it really was.

You had been there for every step in his career, through the wins and the losses, through karting to Formula racing. So when he proposed after the end of the f3 season in 2020, no one close to you was really surprised.

You got married shortly after, neither one of you wanting a big, flashy wedding. Instead, the wedding was small but still nice, just some close friends and family in attendance. Even Oscar had been there and he made sure to reference the event to everyone who wouldn’t understand when around Logan. He loved to talk about the “party” Logan had in 2020 to the other drivers who, frankly, had no idea what he meant.

When he got his move to Formula One, you were over the moon for him. You didn’t worry about long-distance. You had made it work in the past and you both had total confidence in each other to make it work. You continued your degree in engineering and he continued his career in racing. You tried to make it to races when school would let you, which wasn’t often, and he was more than happy to fly you out when he could.

Logan genuinely loved you more than anything. With that being said, this meant that he did not have the time of day for anyone trying to set him up with the Instagram model of the week who had decided to visit a garage.

But at the same time, he also didn’t feel the pressure to share your marriage with anyone. He didn’t really know any of the other drivers very well and if they wanted to know more about him, they could ask. It’s just that no one ever did.

Except, it seems, when they wanted to set him up.

“Hey, Logan!” A British voice calls out to the American, whose head shoots up at the uncommon voice.

“What’s up, mate?” The blonde asks Lando, pocketing the phone where he had just been texting you to ask about your engineering final.

Lando grins and places a hand on the American's shoulder, raising his voice to be heard above the sounds of the paddock, “I was talking to Oscar and he mentioned something about your love life and something about you being lonely, I don’t really remember what he said but anyway, I’m talking to this girl and she has this friend who I think would be perfect for you.”

Logan’s face drops at the brunette's words, a frown replacing his smile, “I’m cool Lando, thanks though.”

Lando furrows his eyebrows, disbelief written on his features, “You sure, mate? She’s sooooo fine.”

Logan just nods his head in response, backing away from the McLaren driver slowly, “Yeah I’m sure Lando, you have fun thinking about your girlfriend’s friend though.”

Lando doesn’t seem to catch the diss as he just glances up and down at Logan before shaking his head and turning on his heel to head back to his garage. Logan sighs before taking his phone back out of his pocket to see another text from you. A grin breaks out on his face as he sees your name.

Logan hadn’t talked to very many of the drivers on the grid, often feeling on the outs of a lot of conversations. So he’s even more surprised to see Charles Leclerc making his way toward him at a club. A club he had only agreed to come to so he coule be Oscar's designated driver, by the way.

“Eyyy, it’s the American!” Charles says, the alcohol clearly present in his voice. The lights are too dimmed but if they were brighter, Logan would be able to see the lipstick smudges around his white collar.

“Hey, Charles,” Logan replies, scepticism laced in his voice. The Monegasque leans closer to him, the drink in his hand sloshing around in the cup.

“I have something to tell you,” Charles slurs a bit, leaning dangerously before a pretty brunette comes up and grabs him, based on her lipstick shade compared to Charles’ shirt, she had already been more than acquaintances with him before this conversation.

Logan glances at the pair before responding dryly, “Oh no.”

Charles grins before pointing back to where he had come from, a dark-haired girl sitting at the table, “That’s Natalie.”

“Navaeh,” the brunette pipes up to correct Charles as he nods in response.

“Yeah, Nivia. Anyway, she’s a friend of mine and she’s been eyeing you all night, thought you’d want her number.”

Logan rolls his eyes at the very clearly drunk couple in front of him, increasing his headache from the pounding EDM, “What an assumption there Charles. I’m actually good though.”

“What?” Charles asks, squinting to see the blonde under the club lights.

“No thanks,” Logan smiles tightly before moving to step around the couple and probably tell Oscar that either they were both leaving or Oscar was getting an Uber, “You guys have a good night though.”

The couple is already too busy sucking face to realize he’s left.

“I just don’t understand why they keep trying to set me up, I’m perfectly happy with you,” Logan complains to you over the phone a few nights later.

You were sat in your dorm, engineering work strewn across your desk and your roommate at a party somewhere. You were trying to get as much work done as possible before Logan came to Austin for the GP so you could spend the weekend with him.

“I mean, have you told them you’re married?” You ask, trying to stifle a yawn as your hand moves to write down the equation for the problem in front of you.

Logan shakes his head, the movement almost imperceptible through the small phone screen, “Nah, but it’s just that no one’s asked you know? I’m just waiting for someone to say “Hey Logan, you got a girl back home?” Before they try and set me up with some Instagram model they know.”

You smile softly as he talks, his hands moving to mess with his blond hair periodically. He eventually looks back to the screen once he’s done ranting and is met with your smiling face filling his phone screen, “What?”

“I love you,” you say warmly, your grin practically splitting your face.

Logan blushes before laughing and shaking his head to hide the redness on his face, “I love you too. I’ll see you next week yeah?”

You look down at the now-completed homework in front of you. Homework that could’ve taken about 2 fewer hours if you weren’t on call.

“Yeah I’m done with this. I’ll turn it into my professor tomorrow and after that I am free. When do you get in?” You ask, shuffling the papers together and sliding them into your bag before moving out of your chair and flopping onto your bunk, sleep clouding your eyes.

“Uhh,” Logan pauses, glancing at his suitcase. In reality, he was supposed to get in twenty two hours and six minutes from when he hung up the call, his flight leaving in three hours and arriving in Austin after a 16 hour flight and a 2 hour layover in DFW followed by an hour long flight to Austin. He would effectively be arriving about a week before any of the other drivers. Besides maybe Daniel. But he couldn’t say any of that. He wanted to surprise you, especially now that you had no work to do. So instead he just hums, “Next week I think.”

“That’s great, babe,” you yawn, a small smile on your lips at the idea of him being back with you again, “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Yeah?” Logan grins.

You hum, your eyes drifting closed slightly, “Yeah.”

Logan notices your less-than-awake state and finally decides to end the call, “Goodnight, I love you.”

You yawn again, your eyes fluttering shut, “Good morning Logan, I love you too.”

The call ends quickly after and Logan glances at the time, grinning when he sees the 8:24 am displayed on his phone screen. You’d both had to deal with the difference in time zones for so long, you probably had all the time zones memorized. Or at least you remembered enough to call out good morning instead of goodnight while he was in Qatar.

His flight touches down twenty-two hours later and the first thing he does is call you.

“Hey what's up?” It's about 10:30 in Austin and the only thing you were doing was picking up barbeque from this place on the edge of campus that your roommate had been raving about.

“Not much, just bored,” Logan replies, his eyes scanning the background of the face time call for where you could possibly be this late.

You glance down at your phone for a second to do the same, eyebrows furrowing, “Where are you? It looks dark.”

Logan glances around slightly before replying, “In a car,” he wasn't lying, he really was in a car. Just one that was ubering to your campus instead of one with his team in Qatar, “Where are you? It's like 10 pm over there.”

“Just picking up some food,” you reply, eyes looking over the moonlit sidewalk that threads through the well-kept grass that surrounds you.

“This late?”

You laugh, “I slept through dinner.”

Logan smiles before sliding forward slightly when the car stops, “Are you just going back to your dorm?”

You look around quickly, “Yeah it's like a quarter mile back though.” You tighten your grip on the bag in your hand, the plastic having started to slip. Maybe your Ugg slides hadn't been the best choice for this walk but you'd manage.

“Oh yeah I know where you are, I remember eating at that place last time I was there,” Logan pulls his suitcase out of the trunk and tips the driver, checking periodically to make sure you hadn't clocked him.

“Yeah yeah, really good stuff and the owner remembered me today, guess I've been there enough times,” You laugh, starting to move back in the direction of your dorm once again.

By the time you had stopped to readjust the bag of food and your shoes, Logan had already started to speedwalk in the direction of your dorm. As he walks he passes enough drunk college kids to fill the football stadium they had all visited so many times.

You're walking pretty slowly, enjoying the moonlight shining brightly on the campus. Your shoes definitely weren't making you any faster to be fair.

“You turn your assignment in?” Logan asks, hoping you don't notice his eyes darting around the campus in search of you.

You nod, reaching a hand up to rub at your sleepy eyes, “Yeah, he even gave me extra credit for turning it in so early.”

Logan nods absentmindedly and you raise an eyebrow as you watch him do it before his eyes lock on something and he abruptly ends the call, “I've got to go, love you!”

You stand staring at your phone with a confused look on your face for a moment, words dying on the tip of your tongue. Weird.

You shake your head before moving to walk again, Logan's weird actions at the forefront of your mind.

Before you can even take a step, someone calls out your name and you turn quickly to see Logan standing there with the biggest grin on his face.

You gasp and wrap him in a bone-crushing hug warmth spreading through you from his arms. You move to spread kisses all across his face and for a few minutes, you both just stand there, not having seen each other in a few months and taking the time to readjust.

“I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulder, unexpected tears starting to spring from your eyes.

He just sets you down before wrapping a hand around the side of your face, “I missed you too.”

You bring a sweater-clad hand up to wipe away a tear before grabbing the food in one hand and grabbing his hand in the other, starting to lead him back to your dorm.

He grabs his suitcase as you start moving, “Is your roommate here?”

“No, you know how she is. She'll be with her new boyfriend for a few weeks so we're fine,” you wave away his question as you walk toward the building a few hundred feet away.

He smiles in response, “Hope you got enough food for two.”

You just laugh joyously.

A week and a half later, you’re stood in the hotel room Logan’s team had provided him, the room much nicer than your cramped dorm room. You had spent the last 12 days exploring Austin with your husband, making up for the time spent away from each other.

You had accidentally slept through Logan’s departure for the morning, waking up to a text explaining that, with your busy class schedule, he wanted you to get as many days of sleeping in as possible but he had gotten you breakfast and it was currently sitting in the kitchen.

You smiled at the text, appreciating Logan’s thoughtfulness. In the kitchen was a coffee from your favourite coffee shop as well as a McGriddle from McDonalds, which, no doubt, hurt Logan to order considering he wasn’t allowed to eat them.

You quickly ate the food, texting Logan to thank him. He texts back surprisingly quickly, considering he was supposed to be in a meeting.

He filled you in on how his morning had gone before asking when you’d get to the paddock for the race. You replied that you’d be there soon, quickly sliding on a light jacket over your tank top and jean shorts, preparing for the Austin heat.

Considering you had never been in the COTA paddock before, you would rather be in any situation other than your current one. There were about three hours until the race and you had no idea where the Williams garage was. You had gotten in just fine but, for some reason, you couldn’t find the blue of the Williams employees anywhere.

Logan wasn’t answering his phone, which you expected considering he had already been reprimanded for being on his phone during a meeting once this morning. Now you were left by yourself, trying to navigate the busy paddock.

You were somehow in a sea of orange, eyebrows furrowed. You turn in a quick circle, eyes setting on a curly-haired man in an orange polo who you take a few quick steps towards, hoping he can help you with directions.

“Excuse me,” you call out to the man who turns around swiftly, eyes pulling across your figure before landing on your face.

“How can I help you, love?” The man replies, a British accent laced through his voice and a sharp grin on his rosy lips.

You glance around slightly, leaning away from the man’s hungry gaze, “Do you know where the Williams garage is?”

He nods his head but keeps his eyes locked on your face, his smirk unfaltering, “Yeah, yeah, it’s just down that way.”

He points to nowhere in particular, moving to lean against the wall you’re standing near, “What’s your name, darling?”

You have to hide the smirk that tries to escape you at the fact that this man clearly has no idea you were married and also clearly thought you’d be an easy girl to flirt with considering his unwavering confidence.

You tell him your name and a grin breaks out on his face, “Pretty name, I’m Lando.”

Ah, so this was Lando. You had only ever seen him with his helmet on and from what you heard from Logan, his current behaviour made perfect sense. Logan hadn’t talked a lot about the Brit but he had mentioned him a few times considering he was Oscars teammate.

You hum, glancing around amusedly around the garage. You and Lando talk for a few more moments before a shorter figure clasps a hand on his shoulder. You lock eyes with the newcomer, grinning when you see a familiar boy standing behind Lando.

"Hey Osc," You smile at the Aussie. Oscar glances sideways at Lando, eyes shifting across his face before they turn to you. You just smile sweetly at the man who reciprocates the grin back at you.

"Hey," Lando glances confusedly between the two of you at Oscar's response. When Lando's confusion goes on a bit too long, Oscar turns and swings an arm around your shoulder, effectively moving the both of you away from the still-confused McLaren driver.

"I assume you're looking for Williams, then?" Oscar asks, running his free hand through his hair which had already begun to stick to his forehead from the Austin heat.

You hum in affirmation, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as the two of you step into the sun to make your way to your husband's garage.

Oscar makes conversation as he pulls you along, talking to you about how his season had gone and also asking a lot of questions about your engineering classes.

“I’d do a video for you, shock all your classmates,” Oscar says when you tell him you had to do a presentation explaining the engineering behind a piece of machinery and you had chosen a Formula 1 car.

You laugh, shaking your head as you do, “Yeah? I'd take you up on that, but I have a driver who'd be much easier to get a video from.”

Oscar snorts, smiling as you reach the Williams garage, “Lando?”

You roll your eyes as the name leaves his lips, hitting the back of his head with the small bag in your hands, “Don't get me started on Lando. You know he tried to set Logan up with one of his friends?”

Oscar furrows his eyebrows, “What?”

“Yeah, Lando said you told him Logan’s love life was lonely or something like that,” You reply, glancing around passively in search of your husband.

Oscar somehow manages to furrow his eyebrows even deeper, mouth opening and closing in disbelief, “That’s not what I said at all.”

“Tell him that.”

You both walk into the garage after that, you move to make conversation with Benny who’s sat to the side, surprise crossing his face as he sees you.

Oscar, though, spots Logan and makes his way to him quickly. He clasps a hand on the blonde's back who turns to face him with a grin, “What’s up Osc?”

“Lando was flirting with your wife,” Oscar states flatly, trying to push down the grin on his face.

Logan blinks a few times in an attempt to understand what the Aussie just said, “What- why?”

“Don’t think he knew she was your wife, mate.”

Logan rolls his eyes before turning around slightly to resume his conversation with his engineer. He stops mid-turn and swings back around to Oscar quickly, eyes wide, “My wife’s here?”

Oscar laughs at the American's face, stepping out of his line of sight so he can see you conversing with Benny.

Logan grins, sliding past the other boy to step toward you as quick as he can, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Oscar can’t hear what you two say to each other but he can see the love painting your faces as Logan plants a kiss on the top of your head. Benny smiles at the two of you, walking away to let you two talk.

As Oscar leaves the Williams garage, he briefly debates telling Lando you were married, especially to Logan, but he eventually decides not to. He’d figure it out eventually. Also might help to have him learn the hard way.

You sat in the garage for the entire race. But when Logan ends the race in eight, you’re jumping up happily to follow the Williams employee guiding you to where he’ll be.

The moment he’s done being weighed, he runs over to you, pulling his helmet off and unzipping his suit to his hips.

He grasps the side of your face, pulling you to him as he kisses you softly. He pulls away slightly and rests his forehead against yours, lifting a hand to grab the one you have against the side of his face, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.

“Thank you for being here. I love you.”

You can’t help the lovely laugh that escapes you, throwing your head back a bit to escape the heat rising on your cheeks, “I love you too, dork. I’m so proud of you.”

He smiles before leaning to catch you in another kiss.

Lando had finished the race in 4th. Not bad considering who had finished in front of him. He’d already talked to his team so he was now just roaming around, looking for someone to talk to.

He locks eyes on you and takes a few steps toward you before someone comes running past him. He looks over to see Logan grasping your face in his hands before pulling you down into a kiss.

He can’t help but stand in shock for a few moments although he can sense a couple people walking up next to him. He glances beside him to see Charles and Alex, both also staring at Logan in disbelief.

“What the hell?” Lando asks, to no one in particular. Luckily, or unfortunately, for him, someone has an answer.

“Are you lot staring at Logan and his wife?” Lando doesn’t look over to catch the amused look on Oscar’s face as he asks the question. But Alex does, and he furrows his eyebrows at the younger man.

“Sorry?” Alex asks the Aussie who just smiles and turns back to the couple, still smiling in each other's embrace.

Charles is the first one to notice anything and he smacks the other two on the head when he does, “They’re both wearing wedding rings.”

Alex blinks for a second, caught in the strange reality that he hadn’t noticed his teammate wearing a wedding ring the whole season. He pulls out his phone to go through old photos and low-and-behold, Logan’s wearing a ring in every single one.

“Jesus Christ,” Lando mumbles, running a hand through his damp curls, “I flirted with her.”

“Yeah,” Oscar nods, hands on his hips, “I probably wouldn’t talk to Logan for a while if I were you. Unless you want to find out how they do it in Florida.”

Lando gulps at the boy's words, of course, having no idea how they “do it” in Florida but only assuming he’d end up with a black eye. Oscar has to stifle a laugh, knowing Logan would most likely just laugh it off if Lando genuinely apologized. Not that Lando would.

Oscar's eyes drift across the trio of confused drivers, most likely all going through their memories of the times they had tried to set Logan up.

“You told me he was lonely,” Lando finally whines out, turning back to Oscar who shakes his head.

“I told you he was lonely because his girlfriend couldn’t make it to any of the races. If you would listen, you would’ve heard that part.”

Lando has no defence to that and turns his head back again to watch as Logan laughs at something you said, fingers intertwined together.

When the news spread across the paddock the next day, Logan received a lot of incredulous texts from drivers and employees alike, all shocked that he was in a relationship, let alone married.

Logan didn’t read any of them, he was too busy hanging out with you.

Except, of course, the message from Oscar that included three specific drivers all with their eyes wide as they stared at him and you.

——————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[azulpitlane]

british slang I ln4

pairing: lando norris x american!reader summary: pranking lando is the only way he can finally get off his phone notes: hi🧍‍♀️i accidentally disappeared but this semester hit me harder than i expected and im honestly out of ideas so idk what this is masterlist

“Babe what does leng mean?”

“Leng? Why are you asking?” Lando responded confusingly while he scrolled through his phone.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you watch him keep his gaze on his screen. It was a bad habit that you quickly picked up on early on your relationship, but now that you were finally living with Lando you were hoping he would spend less time on his phone considering your time together was limited with his constant traveling.

There had been few times you had even caught him messaging his friends, some who were women, while he was suppose to be spending time with you. Though you weren't a very jealous person and trusted Lando more than anything, it didn't sit right with you that he was messaging other girls during your time together. You had brought it up to him a few times where he promised to put it down and spend more time with you. Little liar.

“Some british guy at the gym called me leng this morning.” you replied trying to sound nonchalant.

“What?” Lando finally tore his gaze away from the screen, confusion etched on his face. You fought the urge to smirk as you stared at him acting clueless. “And what did you say?”

“I asked him what that meant and he just laughed and then said I had a nice ‘bunda’?” you revealed, trying your best to keep a straight face.

Lando's brows furrowed in bewilderment. "Are you serious?"

“Yeah, but I figured out what bunda means!” you said excitedly.

“And what does it mean?” Lando asked, now fully engaged in the conversation as he sat fully sat up from his laid back position.

“Accent!” you declared triumphantly.

“Baby, what?” he responded, confusion quickly turned to exasperation. “Why would you think it means accent?”

“Because afterwards he said im ‘so american’ so when he said I had a nice bunda he was referring to my accent.”

Lando pinched the skin between his eyebrows and held back a groan, “Y/n, no. Leng means attractive and bunda means butt. That guy was flirting with you.”

"Oh," you muttered, "then I probably shouldn't have exchanged numbers with him, right?"

"YOUR NUMBER? WHY WOULD YOU-" Lando's voice rose in disbelief, his eyes widening in shock.

"I thought he was just being friendly! I wanted a new gym buddy, and he said he bet he could improve my stamina so I think he wants to give me some workout tips," you explained, barely able to contain your laughter.

"HE SAID WHAT? NO, WHO IS THIS GUY?" Lando's frustration was clear now, his protective instincts kicking in.

"Well, his name was-" Before you could finish, Lando cut you off.

"You know what? You're not going to that gym alone anymore," he declared firmly. You almost let out a scoff feeling as your small prank failed as you watch him pick up his phone again and get back to scrolling as he laid back down on your bed.

You laid down next to him and pretended to be engrossed in your phone, stifling your giggles as you exchanged messages with your friend about your current situation. You ultimately decided to keep the prank going and you could sense his gaze on you, his curiosity evident in the subtle glances he casted your way.

"That guy- you deleted his number, right?" he asked as he looked at you.

"Hm? you feigned innocence, tilting your head slightly to peer at him through the corner of your eye.

"Yeah, the gym guy. You deleted his number?" he pressed, a hint of urgency in his tone.

"Oh, him," you replied nonchalantly, tapping away at your phone with deliberate slowness. "yeah."

He looked at you suspiciously as he fully turned to look at you, "So who are you texting?"

You maintained your facade of innocence, keeping your gaze fixed on your phone screen almost as payback. "Just a friend," you replied casually, your fingers moving across the screen as you kept texting your friend.

Lando's suspicion only seemed to grow as he observed your behavior. "Just a friend, huh?" he echoed, his tone laced with skepticism. "What are you guys talking about?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, pretending to be engrossed in your conversation. "Oh you know, just some fitness tips," you quipped, your voice tinged with amusement.

He gasped loudly and reached for your phone, but you quickly pulled back just in time. "Y/n Y/l/n do not tell me you are even entertaining this guy right now while you lay right next to me."

"Well it's a hobby of yours that I decided to pick up." you replied keeping your phone out of reach.

"I do not do that!"

You raised your eyebrows then casted a glance at his phone that was still on, sitting on his lap. He followed your gaze and scrunched his nose lightly, "Okay maybe I do it sometimes."

You gave him a pointed look and he blinked slowly, "See, now you know how it feels trying to talk to someone who's too busy on their phone." you replied.

Lando's expression softened "Okay, okay, I know it's a problem, but this time I swear I won't do it again." he promised earnestly, his gaze pleading for forgiveness.

You tilted your head and he almost pouted at your lack of response, "I swear it on everything, I swear it on racing! If I do it again, I shall never race again." he declared with a serious face while crossing his heart.

You giggled slightly at his dramatics, 'Alright, alright," you relented, "I'll hold you to it drama queen."

He smiled, his eyes sparkling with mischief, and playfully tackled you back into a laying position. Hovering over you, he pressed gentle kisses all over your face. "Huh, you are better than my phone," he murmured teasingly, his lips brushing against yours.

You grinned up at him and pulled him closer, savoring the closeness and intimacy of the moment. Before you could deepen the kiss, he pulled back and said, "Come on, let's make up for some lost time, we could go down to that new mini golf place."

You pulled him back down and replied, "Or we could stay here and make up for the lack of morning sex today."

His eyes widened slightly at your bluntness, "Yes-yeah-we could- we could do that."

You giggled at his slightly flushed face and connected your lips once again.

"Wait! You still haven't deleted that guy's number." he exclaimed as he pulled back from you.

"Ohhh well he was never real." you replied as you shrugged lightly.

Lando blinked in surprise at your revelation, confusion crossing his features. "What do you mean he wasn't real?" he asked, his tone tinged with curiosity.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his reaction. "I made him up to mess with you," you confessed, a playful smile dancing on your lips.

His expression shifted from confusion to amusement, and then to mock indignation. "You are such a muppet," he exclaimed, squeezing your sides.

"Yeah, yeah." you replied while playfully rolling your eyes. "Now keep kissing me Norris."

"Don't have to ask me twice baby." He grinned before leaning down and capturing your lips together.

more notes: yes i am aware the ending is awful but i wrote this during the suzuka gp and i was stressed enough with that. goodnight. (also just reached 800 followers WOOO thanks guys🥹)

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[iimplicitt]

OFF TO THE RACES | LN4

parings: lando x cowgirl unnamed fem! character (faceclaim bella hadid)

summary: the mclaren team gets taken to a rodeo ahead of the austin grand prix. lando takes the saying; “save a horse, ride a cowboy” a little too literally. let’s take Jesus off the dashboard, he’s got enough on his mind.

warnings: 18+ smut!!, car sex (it’s crime don’t do it), unprotected p in v (also don’t do this), one night stand, lando in a cowboy hat, hickeys, spitting, praise, size kink? kind of, lando has a thing for making her cry (in a good way), social media posts towards the end

wc: 3.8k

a/n: i’m a born and raised texan so don’t come for me with the stereotypes in this LET ME DREAM

Sweat coated his skin as they walked, the road cracked and uneven as they made their way up to the exposition center turned rodeo. It was Zak’s idea, a bonding experience he said for Lando and Oscar even though that was completely unnecessary. They probably spent too much time together as is.

Their boss smiled at them, already sun burnt a bit as they got closer and closer to the blaring country music. “You can’t get a more American experience than this!”

Lando and Oscar looked at each other for a moment before shaking their heads, smiling despite how ridiculous this all seemed. Lando had no interest in watching animals run around in dirt while shitty music blared through speakers all the while someone’s beer might be spilling on him. Then again, maybe he was being cynical and the South was about to be full of surprises.

The whole venue was crowded, making it seem even hotter despite the setting Texas sun. There was a carnival going on as well, a good chunk of people still running around playing games or going on rides. The other half were pouring through the large open doors, the Mclaren Formula One team being a part of it.

It was loud, the metal ceiling and walls echoing the sound of music and people talking and shouting. It was lively, he could admit that. Maybe it would even be fun drunk, but that was a big no go in regard to the rule book of a race weekend.

Someone met them near the entrance, a man who clearly worked with the venue based on the obvious cowboy get up he had on. Boots, hat, the whole thing. Zak did most of the talking while Lando and Oscar looked around curiously, watching as people bustled about and waving at those who recognized them.

Eventually they were led to a section close to the floor, front row seats to all the action. Neither driver really knew what to expect, but the very last thing Lando was anticipating was seeing the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on riding out on horseback.

He was awestruck immediately, his eyes not leaving her as she made her way around the perimeter, smiling and waving as she went. Fuck, she was stunning. Her skin was tan and glowing, her grin bright and brown hair tucked loosely under a cowboy hat. He felt his heart skip a beat as she got closer and closer to where he was sitting, and Lando became acutely aware of himself as he leaned his elbows against the railing. Hoping he didn’t look like a dumbass and for once hoping he didn’t look too British.

Would she even be interested in an Englishman? The thoughts running through his head were ridiculous but everything seemed to go mute as she passed right by him. Tipping her hat down and sending him a wink before the horse continued on its path.

“Careful mate, I think you’re drooling.” Oscar laughed from next to him, nudging him knowingly.

“Shut up, Osc.” Lando barely spared his teammate a glance before he tracked his gaze back to her. Watching in awe as she did whatever the hell she was doing, maneuvering the horse expertly around obstacles, dirt kicking up around her but her face didn’t give anything away but pure determination and focus. He’d never seen anything so graceful.

The rest of the night he kept an eye on her whenever he was able to, his gaze flicking up to the big screen to catch her name anytime she was shown on camera. When she laughed at something her friend said, her head thrown back and eyes crinkling, he thought the earth was opening up underneath him with the desperation to hear the sound of it.

When the rodeo was over, Oscar just about had to drag him away from the railing to get him to leave. “I’m sure this is how your fans feel,” the Australian joked, not at all bothered by the glare Lando was throwing his way.

“I’m not her fan. Merely an admirer.”

“And I'm sure that’s the mindset all your fans have. Besides,” he gestured to where a decently large group of men were waiting near the exit at the back of the expo center shouting her name. “Seems she already has groupies.”

Lando ticked his jaw, not seeing how waiting around would help them at all. He didn’t want to pull the I’m an F1 driver card because then he’d come off like a complete arse. So, cutting his losses he followed everyone else and headed into downtown Austin to find a bar to attend.

Not that he saw the point given; no drinking.

The music was even louder in the bar that was also combined with that he knew very little about like line dancing. Mulling over his water as he scrolled through his phone, he hesitated for a moment before typing her name into instagram.

“Christ,” he muttered. Every time he saw her she seemed to get prettier.

He debated on following her but he knew someone somewhere would take notice and spin it into something it’s not. Even if he wished there was something to blow out of proportion.

Someone bumped his arm and his thumb hit the follow button.

Lando blinked at his phone for a moment, watching her follow count tick up by one and he squeezed his eyes shut. Letting out a sigh he shoved his phone back in his pocket, no point in undoing that hiccup given she’d see the notification. Some small part of himself, or maybe a larger portion, wanted her to take notice. Take an interest, and maybe follow him back. Hell, he’d beg the universe for a DM if he had to.

Oscar appeared and gestured with a hand, smiling as if he knew something. “Look who it is.”

Following his friend’s gaze, Lando looked around before his eyes fell on what Oscar was looking so fucking smug about.

There she was, barely twenty feet away and leaning against the bar. Her smile was contagious as she talked with her friends animatedly with her hands.

“Go and talk to her.”

Lando spun around, looking at Oscar as if he just suggested he commit suicide. “What?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Since when are you nervous when it comes to girls? Just go and say hi.”

“I’ll look like a stalker who followed her here from the rodeo.”

“Right, like she even remembers seeing you.”

Lando's hands went to cover his heart, his features warped into offense. “Ouch, Osc. Low blow.”

The Aussie was hearing none of it as he lightly took hold of Lando’s hoodie and shoved him in her direction. “Thank me later.”

His annoyance wasn’t all that genuine, in fact he was thankful for the shove of encouragement as he made his way over to her. Fuck, was his hair alright? Did he smell bad? He’d been sweating all day. He hadn’t even talked to her yet and she had his mind reverting back into his insecure teenage self.

She caught his eye before he was too close, recognition flashing briefly across her face as her friends continued to talk. Her smile slipped into something more sultry- more knowing. Like she knew exactly why he was here. He wouldn’t be surprised if she got approached a lot, she was stunning.

He came to a stop, her friends' voices slowly fading into silence as they all looked at him. The air tense and a bit awkward but he forced a casual laugh. “Hi.”

Was that really all he had?

She bit her bottom lip, clearly amused by him before he was finally graced by the sound of her voice. “Howdy.”

Even that was heavenly.

“Do people here really say that?” Stupid non flirtatious things were pouring out of his mouth.

Her and her friends laughed, looking at him as if he was a court jester and he wanted to punch Oscar next time he saw him.

“Do you really say cheerio?”

This time he laughed, feeling more relaxed and he shook his head. “No, I don’t at least.”

Her pale green eyes slated to her friends for a moment, something silent passing between them and before he knew it they were alone. She gestured her head for him to come and stand beside her and Lando obliged like a lovesick puppy.

She leaned in close, the smell of her perfume mixed with polished leather was addictive and he wanted to bottle up the scent and keep it forever. “For the record,” she began, her accent light but noticeable. “I do say howdy as a greeting.”

He grinned at her, leaning down to match the level of her gaze and her slight whisper. “It’s cute.”

Her eyes flicked over his face, taking in his features and for the briefest moment her gaze danced over his lips. Making him feel dizzy and he wondered what the woman was doing to him.

She leaned back slightly and took a sip of her drink. “I saw you at the rodeo earlier.”

“I’m glad I’m memorable.”

“You’re hard to miss. You don’t exactly scream you’re from the south. Especially wearing this when it’s almost a hundred out.” She tugged lightly at the string of his hoodie, her lips pulled back in a playful smile and he wished he could just grab her and kiss her. The thought was overwhelming but he had to remind himself not to be an absolute creep.

“Well, it seems the stars are aligning then. I was hoping I’d get to run into you at some point.”

“You sure you didn’t stalk me Mr. Norris?”

He blinked at her. “You know who I am?”

Her cheeks were dusted a rosy pink as she waved her phone at him, his instagram page glowing at him and he shut his eyes. “That was an accident and a coincidence that you happened to be here.”

“Aw, and here I was being flattered.” She scrolled through his page, a giggle leaving her as she came across a picture of him in the ocean with mud all over his face and wearing a pair of sunglasses.

“No, don’t look-“ he tried to cover her screen with his hand but she took hold of his wrist and playfully shoved him away.

“This is golden.” She laughed. “This is what millionaires get up to?”

“You’re looking at all the wrong pictures.” He tried to reason, surely blushing as he made to cover her phone again and she pushed him away, this time with her hip and he felt his mind slip into a numbness that craved her touch again. She was pressed against him now, laughing for another moment before she eventually followed him back.

Her back pressed against his chest, turning to look at him over her shoulder and flashing the screen at him. “There.”

He looked down at her and completely ignored the phone, one hand falling to her waist absentmindedly as his other arm kept him upright against the counter of the bar. Her face was so close and he took in every minute detail. The way her skin glowed, dusted with a faint blush. Her nose was adorable and long lashes fanned out over her glowing eyes.

She was breathtaking.

The feeling of pure want coursed through every nerve in his body, acutely aware of the pressure of her against him. Her jeans tight around her hips and thighs before beginning to flare out and her top was snug fitting and complimented her wonderfully.

His grip on her waist tightened and he heard her breath hitch as she blinked up at him, her pupils blown wide and the smile that stretched his lips was anything but innocent.

Lando had her.

They barely made it into the back seat of her truck before his mouth was colliding with hers in a way that was almost violent as they fell back onto the seats. Lando settled himself between her legs, grinding against her in a way that was shattering his sanity second by second.

Her nails raked up from his neck and into his hair, a groan escaping him and being swallowed up by her mouth. She tasted sweet and had the faint taste of whiskey on her tongue, utterly maddening and he would never get enough of it.

“Take this damn thing off,” she managed to say between bites and kisses, tugging impatiently at his hoodie.

He smiled into the kiss, his hands blindly taking hold of the hem of the fabric before breaking away for a moment to rip it over his head. The truck was a bit cramped but he’d make it work, his mind was consumed by her at the moment and he wanted this to last for an eternity.

Her nails dragged down his body, letting out a content sigh as she took in the sight of his tanned skin and muscle, her fingers hooking into the belt loops of his trousers and the way she looked up at him would’ve been enough to send him over the edge. The sight was heavenly and the innocent look to her in that moment as her brown hair fanned out around her like a nimbus was devastating.

Lando reached forward and took hold of her cowboy hat that had gotten knocked off and placed it on his head, sending her a wink.

When a mewling sound left the back of her throat he raised a brow at her and he felt his cock get impossibly harder. Lando smiled down at her knowingly as he began to undo his belt. “Is this really doing it for you, darling?”

Her eyes nearly looked black with desire as her gaze trailed up from what his hands were doing to his face. “You have no fucking idea.”

He tugged his belt off and tossed it to the side, but before he worked on undressing himself further his fingers danced out and began undoing each button of her too tight shirt. Her breasts had already been tugging at the seams so when he popped one open they practically spilled out for him. No bra and on display and the sound that left him felt primal.

Lando needed her. All of her. Everywhere and every second of the day. If he could have her the way he wanted as he pleased he even considered fucking her in the middle of the paddock if she let him.

His fingers trailed down further and made easy work of her belt and zipper before he leaned back and took hold of each of her legs to rest them on his shoulders. “Lift up for me, baby.”

She didn’t hesitate as she lifted her hips for him and the immediate submissiveness made his mind melt into a puddle of pure desire. He tugged her boots off and then her jeans, and when the sight of her lacy white underwear graced his vision he suddenly wished they would’ve had the patience to get to the hotel.

“Fuck, I bet you taste incredible.”

But there was simply no room. He half debated on saying fuck it and bring her to the bed of the truck so he could ruin her in every way he was dreaming about, but that would probably lead to an arrest and a very unhappy meeting with the team and stewards.

“Please.” Her tone was needy, desperate even as she lifted her hips to him in an attempt to get her closer. There was already a damp spot appearing and Lando wanted to take her away and keep her to himself for the rest of his life.

“Where have you been all my life?” He sighed, his fingers dancing down her thighs and delighting in the way she trembled against his touch. “Tell me what you need.”

She bit her lip so hard he thought it might bleed and his hands dug into the soft flesh of her thighs, earning himself a moan from the back of her throat. “Use your words, baby. I need to hear you.”

“Fuck me, please.” She yanked his hips flush against hers by his belt loops. “And please lord, keep that hat on.”

His grin was wicked as he leaned down to capture her lips again, open mouthed and sloppy. His tongue dancing against hers and exploring, teeth clinking together as he pulled himself out from his trousers and used his other hand to tug her underwear to the side.

Lando never skipped foreplay but he was desperate and so was she. Not to mention she was practically dripping already and when the tip of his cock rubbed against her entrance and clit he shuddered as she let out a gasp, her nails digging into his back.

“You’re so fucking wet for me, darling.”

“Please,” she choked out, pulling him even closer by the back of his neck and kissing him.

When Lando sank into her till his hips were flush against hers he knew he finally found salvation. Purpose is what it felt like. The missing part of his life that he hadn’t even been aware of but now made him whole. He groaned into her mouth, matching her moan.

She was so warm and tight, the muscles of her cunt clenching around him. “You take me so well,” he ground out as he pulled his hips back and watched as he sunk back into her pussy slowly. The sight was other worldly. He wanted to film it but he was now determined that this would not be the last time he had his way with her.

She grinded her hips against him, matching his agonizingly slow rhythm and trying to get more. More satisfaction and he laughed at her desperation before burying his face in her neck, sucking and biting as he continued the slow pace.

“Lando, harder.” She gasped out, clutching at his shoulder with one hand while her other twined in the curly hair at the nape of his neck that was peaking out from under the cowboy hat.

He pulled back, teeth tugging at her skin before he released it with a pop. He got a little carried away, a hickey on her neck already forming but he couldn’t find himself to care as he got lost in the sensation of her cunt around his cock. She was perfectly made for him.

His hands pressed into the seat on either side of her head. “Open.” His tone was sharp and her lips parted immediately at the command. He smiled as he let saliva drip from his tongue and into her mouth, not giving her a moment to get a grip on reality before he then spit on her at the exact same time he pulled his hips back and snapped them hardly forward, burying his cock even deeper inside her.

She let out a cry, pleasure mixing with pain as he brushed against her cervix before pulling back and dragging against her g-spot, only to repeat the process over and over again. Bending her knees up so he could get a better angle, his thrusts brutal and being driven mad by the sound of his name being cried from her lips.

“So fucking gorgeous,” he said through heavy pants, watching her unravel beneath him and when his eyes caught sight on her naval the sound that left him didn’t even sound like himself.

Lando could see the outline of his cock as he fucked her, her smaller and skinnier size making it easier. “Oh fuck, you’re gonna kill me, baby. Look at you.” He pressed a hand gently to her stomach, feeling himself thrust in and out.

She bucked against him at the added sensation, tears streaming from her eyes and leaving pretty trails of mascara down her cheeks.

“Lando, oh my god—“ a scream left her as his other hand began rubbing tight circles into her clit. “I’m gonna—“

“Do you want to come on my cock, darling?”

She nodded, words lost on her and Lando knew he was on the verge of crashing as well. Feeling each of his nerves winding tightly. “Why don’t we come together, can you do that for me?”

“Yes, yes, yes. Please.”

“Such a good girl,” he praised, his tone soft. A complete antithesis to the almost violent pace of his cock slamming into her.

He switched the direction of his fingers on her clit. “Now, darling.”

Not a moment later she was convulsing against him, her cunt clamping down in his cock and Lando groaned out her name as he threw his head back, his cum filling her up nicely as the muscles in his stomach clenched. Sweat was coating both their bodies, all the windows completely fogged up and he felt delirious as he collapsed on top of her, settling comfortably between her hips and still buried inside of her.

He could both feel and hear her rapid heart beat, her warm breath coating the side of his neck as she buried her face in the crook of his shoulder.

“God, I love the English,” she muttered breathlessly against him and he laughed, loving the way she fit so snugly against him.

“And I’m in love with this form of southern hospitality.”

She snorted, the sound heartbreakingly adorable and he never wanted to let go of her. “All I said to you was howdy.”

He turned his face to hers, pressing a kiss against her forehead. “Say y’all.”

She raised a brow at him but complied. “Y’all?”

He groaned and kissed her through her laughter. “I’m done for.”

Eventually, and not with any thrill, he had to pull out of her and she shivered as he did so. Picking up his discarded hoodie from the floor, he gestured for her to sit up. “Lift your arms,” his voice was soft and his heart clenched as she smiled at him, doing as told.

He didn’t know what was wrong with him but he felt like he was struck by cupid’s arrow or something. Lando didn’t want this night to end and he wanted to see her tomorrow. And the next day, and the next. He wanted her by his side till he was rotting away in the earth.

He needed to thank Oscar next time he saw him.

Slipping the hoodie on her, he brushed the hair out of her eyes and dusted his thumbs over her cheekbones as he cradled her face. The air was quiet but not tense, a comfortable silence and he sighed slightly through his nose.

“What?” She asked, her brows furrowed and her smile timid. A bit shy despite the events that just unfolded.

“Would it be mental to ask you to come to the race this weekend?”

His eyes caught her tongue as it darted out to wet her lips, which were slowly forming into a grin. “I would love to, but I don’t know anything about it.”

He shrugged, pulling her in gently by hooking a finger into the collar of his hoodie she was wearing. “Just cheer for car number four and I’ll be on top of the world.”

She bit her lip, eyes searching his before she nodded. “Okay, but I want to do something for you.”

“You don’t need to—“

“It’ll be fun.” She reached her hands up and straightened the cowboy hat on his head. “Besides I haven’t seen enough of you dressed like this yet.”

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, youruser, oscarpiastri and 307,284 others

landonorris am i doing this right?

photo creds and tour of austin courtesy of youruser

*tap to load more comments*

userone: THIS IS EVERYTHING

youruser: you are definitely doing this right

landonorris: taught by the best

oscarpiastri: i’m still waiting on a thank you

landonorris: shut up

usertwo: i need to know the tea

userthree: AND WHOS THE GIRL???

f1wags

liked by 56,029 others

f1wags oh? who’s this? potentially a new wag spotted in the paddock this weekend at the usgp and rooting for lando norris!! some sources say they were seen together afterward, but nothing is set in stone yet! pictured is; youruser

*tap to load more comments*

userone: OH MY GOD THEY WOULD LOOK SO GOOD TOGETHER

usertwo: right?? i hope it’s true

userthree: lando dating a cowgirl is not something i knew i needed

userfour: ew? really? not an american LMAO

userfive: she’s literally stunning what do you mean

usersix: the way she was screaming and cheering for him has me SOBBING she already seems so supportive

userseven: everyone needs to chill we don’t even know if they’re together, just because they follow one another doesn’t mean anything

usereight: you must be fun at parties

youruser

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lilyzneimer, iamrebeccad and 67, 892 others

youruser south side of heaven

*tap to load more comments*

userone: PLS TELL ME THATS LANDO

usertwo: oh my god?? all the wags liking it???

userthree: CHAT PLS I NEED HER AND LANDO TO BE REAL

userfour: he’s been seen in texas NUMEROUS times over the break istg i think they are dating

landonorris and youruser

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 702,299 others

landonorris happy birthday pretty girl

*tap to load more comments*

userone: oh. my. GOD

usertwo: I KNEW IT

carlossainz55: the black and white made me think she had passed

youruser: i thought i missed my own funeral

landonorris: i hate you both

userthree: IM LOSING MY MIND WKSKSJW

userfour: he looks so happy IM SOBBING

taglist: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @ashbone @c8lap1nto @taasgirl @stopeatread @dying-inside-but-its-classy

[kaleidoscopic-quiddity]

i know i shouldnt be suprised but sinners being out for less than a week and already tumblr is fandomifying and 'poor wet pathetic cat'-ifying the main white man villain of the movie is so... disapointing??? like did the fucking point of the movie really go over your heads that badly or are you just willingly ignorant and stupid?

AND BEFORE ANYONE STARTS; im not saying you cant like remmick, he's a very interesting character, a great villain, and jack o'connell gave a great performance playing him, nor do i care if you think hes sexy, I think hes sexy

but i think to come out of a movie where vampires serve as a metaphor for how black american communities have the life sucked out of them by white people via cultural appropriation (remmick wanting to use sammie's gift to summon his own ancestors) and forced assimilation (all the turned vampires singing and dancing along with remmick's irish folk song and dance juxtaposed with the blend of cultures during sammie's song in the juke joint) and for your main take away to be 'aww the main villain is just a misunderstood sadboy' or 'idc abt the atrocities he looked sexy doing them (when the atrocities in question were racism)' then youre just being so disengenuous and antithetical to the whole point of the film?

and dont come at me with the 'let people enjoy things' bullshit, sinners is a movie FUNDAMENTALLY about racism and racial dynamics in the united states, and i do think focusing on your little y/n x [whiteboy of the month] fics and 'hes so babygirl' posts do actually stunt your own critical engagement with the message this movie was trying to convey to its audience

i think its also a disservice to remmick's character; the moral nuance that comes to light when you consider his position as an irish immigrant to the US, a victim of the colonialist british empire just like the black main cast (although in a very different way) and how, whilst his desire to reclaim his ancestry and heritage is understandable and even relatable, his pursuit of sammie and willingness to kill literally everyone else at the juke joint is allegorical for how, regardless of their own marginalisation, white people will prey upon and steal from black culture(s) and destroy/disenfranchise black communities to serve their own interests, and the movie is NOT subtle about this either, delta slim literally lays it out for us "white folks like the blues just fine, they just don't like the people who make them"

idk im yelling into the void here, the ppl im complaining about are never going to give a shit about racism or even just critically engaging with art when theres a new cute whiteboy to write fluff and angst about, but its just soooo annoying to see, yet again, how fandom spaces, which SHOULD be about uplifing and celebrating art in all its diversity and complexity, once again is nothing more than people ignoring anything that actually makes them have to confront reality and filing off the serial numbers to slot characters into pre-determined fanon molds so they can pump out incorrect quotes and coffee shop AUs en masse until the media iliterate heat death of the universe

[5sospenguinqueen]

He’s Just Ken | Lando Norris x Volleyball! Reader

Summary: Lando tries to tell the Grid that he's dating an Olympic Volleyball player but instead, they publicly accuse him of lying to them.

Warnings: None? Swearing. Fluff.

Requested: Yes by Anon (here)

2024 season, slightly skewed timeline haha

Face claim is Jordan Thompson but also rando pinterest pics used. American Volleyball player to fit in with 'the twist'

F1 Masterlist

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landonorris just posted

liked by ln4, maxfewtrell and others

landonorris non-race weekends mean quality time with my trophy and watching the olympics opening ceremony 

2,004 comments

maxfewtrell don’t objectify me like that. i’m more than just your trophy 

→ landonorris you wish you were my trophy 

teamusa can we count on your support?

→ user1 um, he’s british so no..?

logansargeant looking forward to volleyball

→ landonorris absolutely

→ oscarpiastri it’s just sad now

→ user2 he’s not allowed to enjoy volleyball?

georgrussell63 look, guys, he’s trying to act like a wag 

→ alex_albon okay, moving this to social media is a step too far, mate

→ charles_leclerc c’mon, let him have his delusions. he’s not hurting anyone but himself 

→ landonorris they’re not delusions! 

→ user3 what is this about???

mclaren one of our favourite pictures 

→ oscarpiastri can we get him some mandated therapy?

→ landonorris i’m not mentally unwell! 

ynln_usa just posted

liked by landonorris, logansargeant and others

ynln_usa and i thought i looked good. let’s hear a little commotion for ms. eiffel 

3,481 comments

teammate1 okay but you do look good. nothing looks better than team pride

→ ynln_usa AMERICAAAAA 🦅🇺🇸

→ user4 i love how unhinged she is

user5 what is lando doing in the likes 

→ user6 logan is also here

→ user7 yes because she’s a usa volleyball player and he’s patriotic af. lando makes no sense  

→ user8 logan follows the usa volleyball insta account

logansargeant good luck 🇺🇸 liked by ynln_usa

→ user9 this interaction has my whole heart. my two favourite (and only) american athletes 

→ user10 yn and logan meet when?

teamusa that’s our girl! 

→ georgerussell63 lando’s imaginary girl

→ oscarpiastri like he could get her, she’s tall and he’s him (this comment thread has been deleted)

landonorris good luck on your first match

→ user11 sit down vroom vroom boy, not going to happen

→ user12 ha, like lando could bag the volleyball goddess. she’s a real athlete 

→ alex_albon the people have spoken

Group chat texts Twitch Boys + 2023 babies 

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ynln_usa just posted

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and others

ynln_usa first match down. my thighs are chafed and my voice all yelled out but i am pumped! 

4,416 comments

logansargeant what a game! looking forward to the rest of the season

→ ynln_usa thanks for the support 

user1 now oscar’s joined the group of drivers following her

→ user2 and charles

→ user3 poor logan can’t gatekeep her anymore

oscarpiastri looks intense 

→ ynln_usa says the extreme driver 

georgerussell63 lads, what’re we thinking

→ alex_albon just further reinforces our point

→ charles_leclerc she looks very cool

→ user4 what are they all doing here

→ user5 why are they all being suspicious

→ user6 nothing better to do on a weekday? 

landonorris i’ve never seen the stars and stripes look so good

→ danielricciardo norizz is back again

→ landonorris don’t you start 

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oscarpiastri just posted

liked by mclaren, ynln_usa and others

oscarpiastri lando’s dragging us to the olympics to feed into his delusion

2,814 comments

landonorris i’m not lying! 

user7 anyone else notice that all of the drivers in paris at the moment have been focusing on the usa women’s volleyball team?

→ user8 alex and george both posted this match, and their pic included player 12 as well??

→ user9 put some respect on yn ln’s name

danielricciardo where was my invite?

→ carlossainz55 and mine?

→ landonorris neither of you have publicly called me a liar. this isn’t a fun little trip. this is me proving a point! 

→ danielricciardo so it’s a holiday out of spite?

→ charles_leclerc we are having a great time though

alex_albon i’m willing to go along with his delusions if it gets me more free holidays 

→ logansargeant me too

→ georgerussell63 lads, no. we were supposed to be staging on intervention. i made a powerpoint 

landonorris i hate all of you

mclaren bring us back a croissant 

→ oscarpiastri only if you can find me a sane teammate 

→ mclaren deal

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ynln_usa just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, alex_albon and others

ynln_usa luckily, i look better in silver than gold 

16,812 comments

ynln_usa on a serious note, i am blown away by the immense support i have received this olympic season. a massive thank you to the loml @/landonorris for being at the finals (and bringing along some friends) i could hear you screaming in the stands

→ user10 excuse me!! loml lando norris?? since, uh when

teamusa a silver medal and a hard launch. what a day for our champion

→ ynln_usa help, i’ve been captured by a bunch of men who drive in circles

→ teammate any of them single?

landonorris you look so cute with your medal! my olympic silver medalist, everyone 

user11 i feel like this isn’t reaching enough people because all of the comments are just congratulating her on a silver medal. where are the people freaking out about the pinned comment? 

→ user12 she won a silver freaking medal. that’s more impressive than dating someone below her league 

lilymhe i was on the edge of my seat the whole time! congratulations, girly 🥈 (alex facetimed me the whole time so i could watch the match)

→ ynln_usa you mean, lando didn’t give you a ticket? i’ll tell him off for you

→ landonorris how many times do i have to tell people? i didn’t invite them for a nice trip. i was proving a point! it was a petty trip

→ user13 one hell of a trip 

landonorris @/oscarpiastri @/charles_leclerc @/georgerussell63 @/alex_albon @/logansargeant read the caption, boys 

charles_leclerc amazing match

oscarpiastri what a game! 

logansargeant fuck yeah! USA! 

georgerussell63 i’ve never been so invested in a volleyball match before 

alex_albon well done, team usa

user14 the f1 drivers are being so polite. it’s adorable 

landonorris just posted

liked by logansargeant, maxfewtrell and others 

landonorris my baby won silver 🩶🪙

3,304 comments

user1 okay but that picture in front of the eiffel tower. slay 

→ oscarpiastri thank you. some of my best work

→ user2 oscar.png when?

→ landonorris it’s only a good pic because he had good models 

→ oscarpiastri *model. she’s barbie, you’re just ken

ynln_usa big wins for us both this year

→ landonorris you’re my biggest win

→ danielricciardo cringe  liked by ynln_usa

→ landonorris stop it. i saw that, sweetheart

carlossainz55 you used to call me baby…

→ ynln_usa do you want him back?

→ landonorris babe, wtf

→ ynln_usa i’m sorry but carlos is my fave driver and i don’t want him to be sad

→ landonorris dumped.

charles_leclerc okay we get it now. we’re sorry we doubted you

→ georgerussell63 yeah. please stop making out in front of us 

→ landonorris vengeance! 

→ ynln_usa have you not learnt that he’s petty yet? he dragged you all to paris just to prove he was dating me

alex_albon her silver medal is far cooler than your miami trophy 

→ landonorris i agree but shouldn’t you be nice to me like the others?

→ alex_albon no. i never outwardly said i didn’t believe you, just that she was out of your league 

→ ynln_usa thank you, alex. it’s amazing what men can do if they make you laugh 

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Bonus

logansargeant just posted

liked by ynln_usa, lilymhe and others

ynln_usa from toddler terror to olympic silver medalist, you’ve been a pain in my ass since we were kids, and i couldn't be prouder to watch you win big 🇺🇸🍾 tagged: ynln_usa

2,302 comments 

ynln_usa the childhood best friends to professional athletes pipeline is real

landonorris so you knew i was telling the truth the entire time! 

→ logansargeant yeah

→ landonorris why didn’t you tell the others!

→ logansargeant was funny 

oscarpiastri i’m sorry but this reveal is even better than finding out lando was telling the truth about dating yn

→ user3 wait, so all these comments were because they didn’t believe he was dating yn

→ alex_albon would you have until their recent posts?

→ user4 no tbf

charles_leclerc you sly dog! you let us bully him for no reason

→ logansargeant it’s what he gets for just trying to casually slip it into conversation and not introducing her like a gentleman should 

→ landonorris i brought usa volleyball themed cupcakes! 

georgerussell63 this is the best thing i’ve seen all year 

mclaren you’ve caused both our drivers to need a lot of therapy. we’ll send the bill your way 

→ ynln_usa it’s alright, i’ll cover it. i have to deal with them untherapised otherwise

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A/N: So, sorry, Anon. It wasn't until I'd written this up and then realised I'd completely left Max out of it. So sorry but hope you still enjoy!

As always, request open!

[foldingfittedsheets]

I, like I suspect many of the tumblr populace, ran into the issue in my youth of reading a lot of words I never heard spoken. My vocabulary has always been above average but my implementation is often flawed.

Like the day I told my dad I was the epitome of something and he laughed in my face. It wasn’t my fault that I didn’t correctly intuit the emphasis. (Mine was Ep-i-TOME vs Ep-i-to-ME).

My dad didn’t apologize for his rudeness but after my initial disgruntlement I just learned to roll with it. I’d get corrected and laugh it off. Some words were more frustrating though because it necessitated having to rework the word in my brain every time I read it. Like a few years ago when I learned I’d had “seneschal” wrong for decades. (I can’t explain why I thought it was sen-shull and not sen-es-shawl)

I learned that I had harbinger wrong during a Transformers movie without needing to embarrass myself. Thanks, Shia Lebouf. (Har-bing-er (wrong) made way more sense than har-binge-er (right) but no one asked me)

At this point in my life though I’ve managed to work out most of the kinks. I don’t often get corrected anymore.

But there’s one other snag that crops up between me and my beloved. I’ll confidently say a word and they’ll go, “That’s not how that’s pronounced.”

“Yes it is,” I’ll say, very firmly. Because in these cases I’ll generally have heard with my ears and repeated a word verbatim. I’ll know I heard it, so it can’t be wrong.

And pretty much every time I’ll be saying the British pronunciation instead of the American one. I’ve consumed enough British media that often it’s the only time I heard certain words said and I never realized American English handles it differently.

In some cases I’ll switch to the accepted American one. But they can pry machismo out of my cold dead hands, the American version is so stupid I can’t even handle it. I now recognize we stole the Spanish word but we made it worse.

[formulakracing]

“well that’s too bad” — k.r.

pairing -> kimi räikkönen x dcc!reader

word count -> {typed this one on my phone}

warnings -> banter, lots of flirting, some sexual innuendos, kimi being protective, the grid being a bunch of goofballs/down bad, some cursing, light pda

a/n -> this is a request based off of this ask! anon, i love you and thank you for sending in an ask so that i could write about one of my favorite drivers (can we also talk about long hair kimi like…) i hope y’all enjoy!

"who is that?"

a blonde peers around the garage, cocking his head as the figure strolls toward the row of paddocks. licking his lips, he folds his arms across his chest.

"i don't know, but whoever she is, she's gorgeous. absolutely stunning."

the object of sebastian vettel’s desire brings a phone to her ear, her plush lips parting, brow furrowing. whatever she was doing, she was deeply invested, as she stopped dead in her tracks to make the call.

the fellow drivers gather around the blonde, almost gawking. there was no doubt this woman was absolutely ethereal, the gentle rays of the morning sun accentuating her features. a pair of low rise jeans hung from her hips, a white long sleeve clinging to her torso. a luxurious purse hung from her shoulder, the bag accessorized with all sorts of trinkets and a bow.

the most striking aspect of her outfit was the pair of cowboy boots on her feet, the black leather worn from years of wear.

an interesting choice, especially in monaco, but it suited her.

she was regal, carrying herself with an aura that exuded dominance and grace. and to sebastian’s delight, she started to make her way in the direction of the red bull garage.

was she single? there sure wasn’t a ring on that left hand. but she could have opted to leave it at home, where it was protected from the public eye.

it was a gamble really.

and sebastian was more than willing to take his chances.

"do you think i could get her number?"

"you? please. you wouldn't stand a chance."

"come on nico," lewis hamilton, british driver for mercedes scoffs, rolling his eyes, "and you think you could?"

“well, i guess we could ask her if she’s ever been to paris—“

"you guys really know how to make me chuckle," another voice cuts in, his spanish accent seeping into every word, "a woman of that caliber? she probably wouldn't even look in your direction—"

"hi boys!" a chirp rings out through the red bull garage, "i'm looking for my husband. i tried calling his cell but i couldn't reach him. do y’all know where he is?"

her voice was sickeningly sweet, thick with the twang of an accent.

not just any ordinary accent.

an american accent, a drawl that sebastian only heard from one region of that country.

the south.

clearing your throat, you survey the array of men milling about in the garage. you recognize them all in an instant, as your husband had dotingly shown you photos over the years. before you stood fernando alonso, sebastian vettel, lewis hamilton, nico rosberg, and daniel ricciardo. an elite group of drivers, but they did not compare to the man you were searching for.

it wasn't even close.

you were looking for a finnish man, fair in complexion with fluffy, golden locks of hair. a hue that reminded you of sunlight pouring through the leaves of a forest. he was shorter in stature, but muscular, with piercing, icy blue eyes.

well, piercing to some, but to you, they were beautiful, brimmed with nothing but adoration and joy. often, you would gush to him about how his eyes were like the summer sky. he detested this, grumbling how they weren’t that special, but you could always make out a boyish grin, his dimples making an appearance.

taking a step back, sebastian studies you, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. as you give your name to nico, a bell rings in his head. he couldn’t quite place a finger on it, but it sounded familiar.

almost like he had heard it before. mentioned a few times, actually.

“who’s your husband?” fernando puckers his lips, placing his hands on his hips, “is he an engineer? a mechanic? part of the media?”

“he’s a driver.”

“a driver?” lewis’ eyes widen, “are you sure? we would remember one of our own bringing a woman like you around the—“

“will you all stop pestering my wife?”

a rumble from behind you earns a flinch from the drivers. swiveling on your heel, you feel your mouth curl into a dazzling grin.

“sugar! i’ve been looking all over for you! this place is a maze.”

sebastian can’t help but feel his mouth fall open as kimi räikkönen scoops you up into his embrace, squeezing you tightly against his chest. giggles erupt, bouncing off the walls as he peppers your face with kisses, a giddy squeal rising in your throat as he murmurs sweet nothings into your ear.

shaking his head, lewis almost can’t believe what he’s seeing, “you have got to be shitting me.”

“you’re telling me!” nico mutters, glaring at sebastian, he arches a brow, “is this the woman he’s been rambling about for months on end?”

“she is,” daniel clears his throat, finally finding his voice, “you guys didn’t put that together the second she started to speak? you can tell that woman has lived in texas all of her life. she’s wearing cowboy boots for fuck’s sake. you guys really amaze me sometimes.”

“well sorry we’re not all detectives like you!” fernando pouts, throwing his hands in the air, “we were all under the impression that—“

“the impression that i was just some helpless little bunny makin’ her way through?”

your snarky words cut through, sending a ripple of shock throughout the boys. their heads turn, pairs of eyes falling on you.

clicking your tongue, you raise a hand, pointing at sebastian, “y’all know it’s rude to stare, right? i could feel you watching me from a mile away.”

kimi wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer, “why didn’t any of you let me know she was here?”

“they thought i was single,” you can’t help but feel a smirk begin to grow as the boys stutter, scrambling to find some sort of response that wouldn’t set kimi off any further.

“well that’s too bad,” finding your hand, kimi intertwines your fingers together, “because you’re my wife. you guys hear that? she’s mine. off. limits.”

“heard you loud and clear,” fernando flashes the finnish driver a thumbs up, “my apologies, kimi.”

“don’t apologize to me,” kimi snorts, “apologize to her.”

as the boys hang their heads, you can’t help but feel a chuckle tumble out as they start speaking in unison, like some schoolboys being chastised.

“we’re sorry.”

“that’s better,” tugging on your hand, kimi motions his head in the direction of his own garage, “come on, my love. let’s go.”

peering over your shoulder, you shoot the group one last wink, scrunching your nose slightly. giving them all a wave, you blow a kiss.

“it was nice to meet y’all! but if you’ll excuse me, i would like to be with my husband. hopefully you’ll all fare better on the track than how you court women. bye now!”

and as you walk away, kimi brings your hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the gentle skin.

“i love you.”

linking your elbow with his, you lay your head on his shoulder, your heart cozy with bliss.

“and i love you, ice man.”

and for the rest of the day, the ice man would bear a radiant smile.

a sort of grin the rest of the grid had never seen before.

and that was all thanks to his cheerleader.

his wonderful, talented, smoke show of a cheerleader.

the one who happened to be not just any cheerleader, but his wife as well.

and if anyone wanted you?

well, that was too damn bad.

[burrowswomen]

❥ SO AMERICAN ━━━━━ JOE BURROW

: ̗̀➛ word count: 5.6k

: ̗̀➛ warnings: nothing

: ̗̀➛ noor speaks: this took me over a month to write.. so i hope you guys all enjoy!!! (i recommended reading this in ur best british accent to truly get in character)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you moved from london to the bay area when you were seventeen.

back home, in london you had never thought much about your ‘accent’—it was just how you spoke, how the people in the uk spoke. but in high school, it became the first thing people noticed about you. the moment you opened your mouth, the teasing started. the way you pronounced words, the slight differences in your vocabulary—it was all fair game for mockery.

so you stopped talking as much. it was easier that way.

but in college, things changed. your accent had softened a bit by then, and instead of being something people laughed at, it became something they found interesting. you had decided to major in journalism, hoping to get a career in digital content creation. by the time you graduated, you landed a job with the los angeles chargers before applying with and getting the job with the cincinnati bengals’ social media team.

you thought you were past the days of people being caught off guard by how you spoke.

but california was one thing. ohio? the middle of basically nowhere? yeah, your accent stuck out again.

whenever you had to interview players for tiktok, there were always multiple takes—not because you messed up, but because the guys needed a second to adjust. they never meant anything by it, but it was obvious that your voice wasn’t what they expected. ja'marr and tee would always end up joking around, slipping into their own exaggerated british accents, making you roll your eyes but laugh anyway.

but joe?

he hated social media. he understood it was part of the job, but if he could avoid it, he would. he’d rather hide behind his helmet than have a mini mic shoved in his face. getting him to agree to even one short clip was nearly impossible.

but today, you had finally gotten him to say yes. just one question. ten seconds, max.

you weren’t about to waste the opportunity.

you hit record, holding up the mic as joe stood in front of you, hands on his hips, already looking like he regretted saying yes.

"so the question of the day is—"

you didn’t even get to finish before joe burst out laughing. 

you sighed. you were used to this by now.

“joe.”

“i’m sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “let’s try again.”

you gave him a look but restarted. “so, what is your favorite—”

before you could finish, joe stepped out of the frame, laughing again.

“joe!”

“i’m sorry!”

“my accent is barely there! i don’t know what you’re laughing at!”

joe shook his head, still grinning. “nope. it’s still very much there.”

you rolled your eyes. “joe, you’re literally the most american person ever, so don’t.”

he smirked. “yeah, whatever.”

-

after the tenth try, y/n didn’t even bother continuing. she just sighed, shaking her head as joe continued to smirk at her, clearly amused.

"i can't work under these conditions," you muttered, wrapping the mic cord as you stopped the video. "this is why i just stick to ja'marr and tee."

joe huffed out a laugh, still standing with his hands on his hips. "yeah, because they don’t make fun of you at all, right?"

you shot him a look. "oh, they absolutely do. but at least they answer the question before they start acting like i just walked out of a sherlock holmes novel."

joe grinned, but he was still trying to hide his laughter. she could tell.

she glanced down at her phone, debating if she should attempt one more take or just give up entirely. she was pretty sure if she tried again, joe would just find another excuse to laugh. it was rare to even get him in front of the camera like this, but now she was realizing that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as opposed to it as he let on.

"alright, burrow," you said, stuffing her phone into her pocket. "you win this round."

joe lifted an eyebrow. "i didn’t know this was a competition."

"everything is a competition," you shot back, before turning on your heel to leave.

"so you’re just gonna give up?"

you glanced back at him, smirking. "oh, i’ll get you on camera again. just you wait."

joe just shook his head, still grinning as he walked away.

but after that, something changed.

he stopped avoiding the social media team so much. he still wasn’t exactly eager to be in videos, but he didn’t disappear the moment he saw her coming towards him, either. he didn’t roll his eyes when she approached him with a mic. if anything, he almost seemed like he was waiting for it.

you noticed the way his teammates looked at him whenever you came around, smirking like they knew something you didn’t.

and maybe they did.

but it was safe to say, you did not get that ten-second clip.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

a few days passed before y/n attempted to interview joe again. she wasn’t in a rush—if there was one thing she had learned since working with the team, it was that patience was key.

so when she spotted him on the field during practice, standing near the sideline with his helmet tucked under his arm, she decided it was time.

"alright, burrow," she called as she approached, phone in hand, mic already clipped onto it. "rematch."

joe turned, squinting against the sunlight. "rematch?"

"last time, you didn’t even let me get the question out without laughing," she said, stopping in front of him. "so, we’re trying again."

he huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. "i didn’t laugh on purpose."

"yeah, yeah, tell that to the footage i have," she said, unlocking her phone. "so, can i get a serious answer this time?"

joe sighed, as if this was the biggest inconvenience of his day, but she could see the slight smirk pulling at his lips. "fine. one question."

y/n grinned, lifting her phone. "okay. If there were an alien on the team, who on the team would it be?" 

she barely got the words out before joe pressed his lips together, his shoulders shaking.

"joe," she warned.

he exhaled, trying to compose himself, nodding. "okay, okay. i got it."

"Who on the team might be an alie—"

joe broke again, tilting his head back as he laughed, completely stepping out of frame.

y/n groaned, stopping the recording. "you’re impossible."

joe wiped his hand down his face, still grinning. "i’m sorry, i really am. it’s just—i don’t know, it catches me off guard every time."

"my accent is barely even there anymore!" she argued, shoving her phone into her pocket.

joe raised an eyebrow. "it’s very much still there."

she rolled her eyes. "you’re just so american, that’s why."

"yeah, whatever," he muttered, shaking his head.

she let out a dramatic sigh. "safe to say, i’m never getting this done, huh?"

joe shrugged. "maybe next time."

"so there’s a next time?" she asked, tilting her head.

he paused for a second before smirking. "we’ll see."

as he walked away, y/n just stood there, watching him go.

and despite failing yet again, she couldn’t help but smile.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it became a thing after that.

y/n wasn’t sure when exactly, but somehow, joe burrow—the man who avoided social media at all costs—had become her biggest challenge and, oddly, her most entertaining subject.

he never outright agreed to being filmed, but he also never walked away when she approached him, phone in hand, mic ready. instead, he’d give her the same exasperated look, like he was dealing with the biggest inconvenience of his life, before sighing and saying, “one question.”

and every single time, without fail, she never got her answer.

if it wasn’t joe laughing at her accent, it was him making some dry remark that threw her off completely, or worse, making her laugh instead.

one afternoon, after practice, she found him near the bench, towel slung over his shoulder, sweat still clinging to his skin. prime time for a quick interview.

"joe, what’s your go-to hype song before a game?" she asked, phone up, recording already rolling.

joe took a sip from his water bottle, considering. "hmm. probably something really good."

"like?"

"i don’t know, taylor swift or something."

she blinked putting her camera and mic down. "you’re lying."

he shrugged. "am i?"

y/n narrowed her eyes. "name one taylor swift song."

joe paused for a beat, then smirked. "that’s classified."

"oh, you so listen to her," she accused, pointing at him. "swiftie joe is real."

"never said that," he said, amused.

"never denied it either."

he just grinned before walking off, towel draped over his shoulder.

y/n sighed, but she wasn’t even annoyed.

she had a feeling their little game was just getting good.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

joe adjusted his helmet, ready to run the next play, when something in his peripheral caught his attention.

you.

you were standing on the sideline, laughing at something justin—one of the social media guys—was saying. the two of you were standing close, heads tilted toward each other as you scrolled through something on your phone. joe didn’t know why he was paying attention to it, but he was.

"what’s happening over there?" joe asked, nodding in your direction.

ja'marr followed his gaze, then snorted. "looks like they’re tryna decide which ugly picture of us to post."

joe glanced at him, then back at you. you were still laughing, your head tilting back slightly. justin was grinning, clearly proud of whatever he’d just said.

joe didn’t know why, but it bothered him. just a little.

"his name’s justin, right?" joe asked, keeping his tone casual.

"yeah," ja'marr said, stretching his arms over his head. "j something.."

joe hummed in response, eyes still on you. he wasn’t sure what it was—maybe it was how close you were standing. or the way justin kept leaning in slightly when he talked. or maybe it was the fact that he’d never seen you laugh like that at something he said.

"bro, why you acting like that?" ja'marr asked, smirking.

joe frowned. "acting like what?"

"like you care."

"i don’t," joe said quickly. too quickly.

ja'marr just laughed, jogging to his position. "yeah, aight."

joe rolled his eyes, shaking his head. he didn’t care. he really didn’t.

but when the next play started, his focus was slightly off. and he definitely wasn’t looking at the sideline again.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

after practice wrapped up, you were still on the field, scrolling through clips on your phone while justin stood next to you, pointing out which ones would do best on tiktok.

"this one's solid," he said, tapping the screen. "ja’marr’s gonna hate you for it, though."

you rolled your eyes. "when does he not?"

justin chuckled before checking his watch. "i gotta go edit some stuff. you good here?"

you nodded. "yeah, i’ll be in shortly."

he jogged off, leaving you standing there, still reviewing footage. you were so focused you didn’t notice joe walking up until his shadow crossed over your screen.

"what’s so funny?"

you looked up, surprised to see him. "huh?"

"earlier. you and justin," joe said, nodding toward the facility where justin had disappeared. "what were you laughing at?"

you raised a brow, confused at the random question. "oh. he was just showing me some clips of ja’marr messing up his words. it was funny."

joe nodded slowly, like he was considering something. "you two seem close."

you blinked at him. was he… making conversation? joe burrow?

"i mean, we work together," you said, studying his expression. "same as me and you."

joe scoffed. "not the same."

your brows furrowed. "how is it not the same?"

joe shrugged, glancing away like he didn’t want to answer that.

you tilted your head slightly, then smirked. "wait a minute…"

his eyes snapped back to yours, slightly guarded. "what?"

"are you jealous?"

joe’s face stayed neutral, but his ears—clear as day—turned red. "no."

you grinned. "oh my god, you are jealous."

"i’m not," he insisted, but the way he shifted uncomfortably told you otherwise.

"joe," you teased, stepping just a little closer. "if you wanted me to laugh at your jokes, you could’ve just said that."

joe huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "i don’t care if you laugh at my jokes."

"mhmm."

"i don’t."

you stared at him for a second before sighing dramatically. "well, that’s a shame, ‘cause i was gonna say you’re actually kinda funny sometimes."

joe smirked. "only sometimes?"

"don’t push it, burrow."

he chuckled, shaking his head as he started walking off. "see you inside, london."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that lingered even after he was gone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

later that afternoon, you were back in the media room, editing clips from the day’s practice. the familiar sound of pads hitting the turf and players yelling filled your headphones as you sifted through footage, piecing together something that would do well hopefully.

justin leaned back in his chair next to you, watching over your shoulder. "so, you and burrow, huh?"

you froze for half a second before playing it off. "what about me and burrow?"

justin smirked. "you tell me."

you turned to give him a look. "there's nothing to tell."

"right," he said, dragging out the word. "so he wasn’t all weird earlier when he saw us talking?"

you scoffed. "he wasn’t weird."

justin shot you a knowing look. "so he was something."

you exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "i don't know what he was. probably just bored. or nosy. or both."

justin hummed, unconvinced. "uh-huh. i don’t think i’ve ever seen him ask about what you’re talking about before."

"maybe ‘cause we were laughing kinda loudly," you pointed out.

"i mean, he did call you ‘london’ on his way out," justin said, raising his eyebrows. "don’t act like that’s normal."

you rolled your eyes. "he's called me that before." lie

"he really hasn't."

you opened your mouth to argue but realized… justin was kinda right. joe didn’t really use nicknames for people, —especially for you.

justin grinned at your silence. "see? i knew it."

"there's nothing to know," you insisted, turning back to your laptop.

"mhmm. we’ll see about that," justin said, leaning back with a smug look on his face.

you ignored him and focused on your work, but the thought lingered—was joe acting different around you? and if he was… why did it make your heart race just a little?

you quickly composed yourself before, you shook your head, trying to shake off justin’s teasing. "either way, it doesn’t matter. staff and players aren’t even allowed to be involved with each other outside of work. it’s in the contract."

justin leaned forward, a smug look crossing his face. "ahh, see, that’s where you’re wrong."

your brows furrowed as you watched him click around on his computer. a few seconds later, he pulled up a digital copy of the social media team’s contract. he scrolled for a moment before stopping and turning the screen toward you. "go ahead. read it."

you hesitated before leaning in, eyes scanning the document carefully. you searched for the part you were sure existed—the rule that prohibited any kind of relationship between players and staff.

but it wasn’t there.

your eyes narrowed as you read the section over again, then a third time just to be sure.

"wait," you muttered, your finger tracing the lines of text. "so… there’s actually no rule against it?"

justin leaned back in his chair, arms crossed with a satisfied smirk. "nope. nowhere in the contract does it say staff and players can’t date. it just says you have to remain professional in the workplace."

you blinked, still rereading the section as if the words would suddenly change. "that… doesn’t make sense. i thought it was a rule."

"nah, it’s just an unspoken thing. probably to avoid drama or whatever. but technically? totally allowed," justin said, watching your reaction closely. "why? thinking about breaking a nonexistent rule, london?"

you immediately rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t ignore the way your heart had started beating a little faster. "no, i was just—i don’t know, i thought it was a thing."

justin grinned. "yeah, well, now you know it’s not."

you shook your head, sitting back in your chair. "well, doesn’t matter. not like it applies to me anyway."

justin raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "uh-huh. sure it doesn’t."

you ignored him, turning your focus back to your work. but now, the thought lingered. there’s no actual rule.

you weren’t sure why that information sat so heavily in your chest. maybe it shouldn’t have changed anything.

but somehow, it did.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

over the next couple of months, things started to shift—not in an obvious way, but in the little things. joe was still the same guy, still hated social media, still keeping his distance from the cameras when he could. but he didn’t avoid you anymore.

he was still a challenge to get on camera, but sometimes, if you caught him at the right moment, he’d answer a question. nothing long, nothing groundbreaking, but it was progress. and then there were the other moments.

like when you’d make a joke, and he’d actually laugh. not just a small chuckle, but an actual laugh, the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners. or when he’d linger a little longer after practice, standing just close enough to the media team that you knew he was listening, even if he pretended he wasn’t.

and then there was today.

you were standing on the sideline during practice, waiting for the right moment to grab a quick clip for social media. the team was running drills, and you were half-watching, half-scrolling through your phone when joe walked up beside you.

“you waiting for someone?” he asked, nodding toward your phone.

you looked up at him. “yeah, actually. waiting for you to agree to be in a tiktok longer then 15 seconds.”

he scoffed, shaking his head. “not happening.”

you smirked. “figured as much.”

there was a comfortable silence for a moment before joe glanced at you. “so… do british people really drive on the left side of the road?”

you looked at him, raising a brow. “no, joe, that’s just a myth. we actually drive upside down.”

he rolled his eyes, but you could see the corner of his mouth twitch like he was fighting a smile. “i’m serious.”

“yes, we drive on the left,” you said. “the same way you americans drive on the right.”

he gave you a look. “why do you say ‘americans’ like that?”

you blinked. “like what?”

“like—i don’t know,” he shrugged. “like you’re separating yourself from us.”

you tilted your head. “are you not american?”

“no, i am,” he said slowly.

you grinned. “exactly. you’re so american.”

joe frowned. “what does that even mean?”

“oh, you want a list?” you teased. “fine. one, you love football more than anything. two, you are from ohio. three, you’re obsessed with your—”

joe held up a hand, cutting you off. “first of all, i play football. i kinda have to love it.”

you laughed. “see? proving my point.”

he shook his head, but he was smiling now, and for a split second, you forgot this was the same guy who used to avoid you and the cameras at all costs.

“you’re ridiculous,” he muttered.

“and you’re american.”

he rolled his eyes again, but he didn’t walk away. and that? that made you feel something.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

as much as you loved your job, today had drained you. between filming, editing, and keeping up with the constant content demands, you were exhausted. so when practice finally wrapped up and most of the staff started heading home, you packed up your equipment as quickly as you could, ready to do the same.

the hallways were mostly empty as you walked toward the parking lot, the sounds of your footsteps echoing against the walls. the air smelled faintly of turf and sweat, a reminder of the hours spent on the field earlier.

your mind had already started drifting—thinking about how good it would feel to collapse into bed—when you heard footsteps behind you. you didn’t think much of it at first. plenty of people left around this time. but then—

“y/n.”

the familiar voice made you pause mid-step. you turned, your eyes landing on joe burrow a few feet away. he was out of his usual practice gear, now in a hoodie and sweats, his hands tucked into his pockets.

“you leaving?” he asked, nodding toward your bag.

you raised a brow. “no, i’m actually planning to sleep here tonight.”

joe’s face scrunched in confusion. “really? why?”

you stared at him.

his lips parted slightly, realization dawning on his face. “oh.”

“yeah, joe,” you said, amused. “i’m leaving.”

he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head at himself. “right.” he hesitated for a second, then shifted his weight. “i’ll, uh… i’ll walk you to—uhm, your car.”

you stopped, looking at him.

“okay…” you said slowly, trying to figure him out.

he just nodded, stepping into place beside you as you both started toward the parking lot.

for the first few moments, neither of you spoke. the air was cool, the last remnants of daylight stretching long shadows across the pavement.

“so,” you said, breaking the silence, “do you always offer to walk staff to their cars, or am i just special?”

joe huffed out a laugh. “nah. just you.”

you glanced at him. “hmm.”

another pause.

“you’re quieter than usual,” you observed.

he shrugged. “long day.”

“tell me about it.”

“yeah?” he asked, glancing at you.

“yeah,” you sighed. “i swear, i spent half my time just trying to get tee to answer one question without him messing around. and don’t even get me started on ja’marr.”

joe smirked. “sounds about right.”

you rolled your eyes. “sometimes i think you guys make our job harder just for fun.”

he didn’t even try to deny it.

by the time you reached your car, the parking lot was almost empty. you stopped beside your driver’s side door, unlocking the door with your keys, just as you were about to reach forward to open it, joe reached forward and pulled the handle open for you.

you hesitated, your eyes flicking up to him. “thanks.”

joe shifted slightly, his fingers tapping against the edge of his hoodie pocket. “uhm.”

you stilled, waiting.

he took a breath. “would you wanna get coffee someday?” he asked, then quickly added, “or tea. i know british people like tea.”

your brows raised slightly.

joe burrow was asking you to coffee. or tea.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the car. “you're asking me?”

his jaw tightened. “yeah.”

you let him sit in his lie for a moment before smiling.

“yeah, sure.”

his eyes met yours. “yeah?”

you nodded. “yeah.”

he exhaled, something almost like relief flashing across his face.

“alright,” he said, stepping back.

you slid into your car, still half in shock at what had just happened.

“goodnight, joe.”

“goodnight, y/n.”

he shut your door gently, gave you a small nod, and turned back toward the facility.

you sat there for a second, gripping the steering wheel. then, finally, you shook your head, a grin creeping across your face as you started the engine.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

you weren’t exactly sure what you were expecting when joe asked you to coffee, but it wasn’t this.

it wasn’t him actually following through with it, texting you the next morning with a time and place already picked out. it wasn’t him choosing a quiet, locally owned café instead of some big-name chain. and it definitely wasn’t you sitting across from him now, in a corner of the shop, feeling surprisingly… comfortable.

it had been a while since you’d been on anything that remotely resembled a date. not that this was a date. you didn’t think it was, anyway.

joe had been waiting for you when you arrived, standing outside with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, glancing down at his phone before looking up when he saw you approach. he gave you a small nod, the corners of his mouth twitching up into the hint of a smile.

“you actually showed up,” you said, half-joking, half-surprised.

joe let out a small chuckle. “you thought i was gonna bail?”

“i mean, you don’t even like social media. why would i think you’d voluntarily spend time with someone from the social media team?”

“touché,” he said, pulling the door open for you.

and now here you were, sitting across from him, your fingers wrapped around the warmth of your tea as you watched him take a sip of his coffee.

“so, do you always drink tea, or is that just something you have to do because you’re british?” joe asked, tilting his head slightly.

you rolled your eyes, setting your cup down. “yes, joe. it’s a legal requirement. we sign a contract at birth.”

his lips curled into a smirk. “figured as much.”

“but no,” you said. “i just like it. coffee’s fine, but tea’s better.”

joe scoffed. “wrong.”

you gave him a pointed look. “so american.”

joe raised an eyebrow. “you always say that. like it’s a bad thing.”

“it’s not bad,” you said. “you’re just… very american.”

joe leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “explain.”

a smirk played on your lips as you leaned forward slightly. “first of all, you guys think everything is better when it’s bigger. portions, cars, houses—”

“because it is,” joe interjected.

“second,” you continued, ignoring him, “you’re all obsessed with football. and no, before you say it, i don’t mean actual football. i mean whatever you guys are playing.”

joe scoffed. “whatever we’re playing?”

“yeah, the one where you barely use your foot,” you teased.

joe shook his head, taking another sip of his coffee. “anything else?”

“oh, plenty,” you said. “but i don’t wanna hurt your feelings.”

joe narrowed his eyes, shaking his head with an amused expression. “you talk a lot more when it’s just us.”

you paused for a moment. he wasn’t wrong.

for most of your life, you’d been the quiet one. the one who held back, who let other people lead the conversation while you carefully picked your moments to speak. but around joe? it was easy.

“guess i do,” you admitted, stirring your tea absentmindedly.

joe didn’t say anything right away. he just watched you, his blue eyes studying you in a way that made your face feel a little too warm.

you cleared your throat, shifting the conversation. “so, why’d you ask me to coffee?”

joe shrugged. “felt like it.”

you narrowed your eyes. “that’s not an answer.”

“sure it is.”

“joe.”

he exhaled through his nose, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. “i don’t know,” he finally said. “i just wanted to.”

for some reason, that answer felt more honest than anything else he could’ve said.

you held his gaze for a moment, then looked down at your cup, a small smile tugging at your lips.

maybe this was just coffee. maybe it was nothing more than two coworkers grabbing a drink.

but deep down, you had a feeling this wasn’t the last time you and joe burrow would be sitting across from each other like this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it all happened so naturally that you hadn’t even realized it was happening.

one coffee date turned into two. then three. then, one day, instead of coffee, joe texted:

"you eat dinner, right?"

you had laughed at the message, typing back: "no, i survive solely on tea and biscuits."

and that’s how coffee turned into dinner. dinner at small restaurants tucked away from the city, where the waitstaff knew joe by name but treated him like any other customer. dinner that turned into longer nights spent together, conversation flowing as easily as the wine you sometimes shared.

then, somehow, dinner at restaurants turned into dinner at his house. or yours.

at first, it was a casual suggestion. joe had an off day and didn’t feel like going out, so he said, "why don’t we just cook something?" and you agreed, not thinking much of it.

but one night, as you stood in his kitchen, chopping vegetables while he stood behind you, looking over your shoulder, something shifted.

"you’re doing that wrong," he muttered, reaching past you to grab the knife from your hand.

"oh, i’m sorry, gordon ramsay," you said, rolling your eyes. "by all means, enlighten me."

joe chuckled, shaking his head as he took over. "just watch."

you crossed your arms, leaning against the counter, watching as he cut the vegetables with precise, practiced movements. "you do this often?"

"cooking?" he asked, glancing at you. "yeah. gotta eat."

"right," you said, biting back a smile. "good observation."

he smirked, nudging you lightly with his elbow before continuing to chop.

you watched him in silence for a moment, taking in the way his jaw tensed in concentration, the way his hands moved with confidence.

and before you could even think twice about it, you said, "you know, i like this."

joe paused, glancing at you again. "like what?"

"this," you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "cooking together. just… us."

for a split second, something flashed in joe’s eyes. something softer, something unreadable.

"yeah," he said after a moment. "me too."

then, before you could process it, he was leaning in.

his lips brushed against yours so lightly at first that you almost thought you imagined it. but then he kissed you, his hands settling on your waist as he pulled you closer.

your breath hitched, fingers gripping the fabric of his hoodie as you kissed him back.

the knife clattered onto the cutting board, long forgotten.

dinner could wait.

—

one kiss turned into more.

more nights spent together. more stolen moments between work and practice, more teasing remarks that carried an undertone of something deeper.

until, one night, as you were curled up on his couch, your head resting against his chest while some movie played in the background, joe murmured, "be my girlfriend."

it wasn’t a question. it wasn’t even hesitant. it was just… fact. like he had already decided and was simply waiting for you to confirm it.

you tilted your head up, meeting his gaze. "was that your way of asking?"

joe smirked. "was i supposed to get down on one knee?"

"well, it would’ve been more romantic," you teased.

"next time," he said.

"next time?"

"yeah," he said, his fingers tracing absentminded circles on your arm. "like when i ask you to marry me."

your breath caught in your throat. "bold of you to assume i’d say yes."

joe just shrugged, completely unfazed. "you will."

and, well… yeah. he wasn’t wrong.

—

being joe burrow’s girlfriend came with a lot of things. attention, sure. but also late-night drives, laughter-filled mornings, and the kind of quiet moments that made you realize just how much you loved someone.

meeting his parents was another thing entirely.

you had been nervous, of course. but his mom had welcomed you with open arms, his dad had given joe a look that very clearly said, "you better not screw this up," and by the end of the night, his parents were treating you like you had always been a part of their family.

which led to now—where you basically lived at joe’s house.

you still had your own apartment, technically. but considering that the majority of your clothes, your toiletries, and even your favorite tea were now at joe’s place… yeah, you weren’t there very often.

"you know you live here now, right?" joe said one evening, as you stood in his bathroom, brushing your teeth with your toothbrush you had kept in his bathroom.

"i do not," you said, words muffled by the toothbrush.

"you do," he insisted.

"just because i spend a lot of time here doesn’t mean i live here."

joe gave you a look. "you have more clothes in my closet than i do."

you shrugged, spitting into the sink before looking at him. "so?"

"so," he said, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "just move in already."

you stared at joe, toothbrush still in hand, as his words settled over you. "just move in already." like it was the easiest decision in the world. like he had already decided it was going to happen, and he was just waiting for you to catch up.

his eyes were steady, watching you for any sign of hesitation, but all you could do was laugh, shaking your head as you set the toothbrush down on the counter.

"what?" joe asked, his smirk turning into something softer, more curious.

you leaned against the sink, arms crossed. "you didn’t even ask. you just told me to move in."

joe tilted his head slightly, like he was thinking it over. then he shrugged. "so?"

"so," you repeated, mimicking his tone. "that’s not how it works."

"okay," he said, straightening up. "will you move in with me?"

you let the question linger for a second, enjoying the way joe was watching you like he already knew the answer. because of course he did.

finally, you sighed dramatically, shaking your head as you walked past him, brushing your fingers against his arm.

"gosh, you’re so american."

joe turned, following you as you headed toward the bedroom. "what does that even mean?"

you threw him a grin over your shoulder. "figure it out, burrow."

and, judging by the way he was smiling as he chased after you, he already had.

[petermorwood]

A day or so ago, @dduane reblogged a long post - a Canadian magazine article from 1966 - about the Americanisation of Winnie the Pooh.

It's an Impressive Tirade in which the writer (Sheila H. Kieran) says what she thinks about letting Walt Disney have a free hand with a foreign Children's Classic.

There's mention of the previous Adaptation Endeavour, "Mary Poppins" (1964) but it's very brief, perhaps with an eye to limited column space - or maybe because All Was Said Already in a previous review.

There is, however, rather a lot about the English characters being given American accents, and about the inclusion of a new character, an American gopher (which, the article suggests, looked vague enough to the Kieran children - its target audience - that it might as well have been a mole or a beaver).

*****

And that reminded me of another bit of American Animalisation done by Disney, in the 1949 short "The Wind and the Willows" - though in this instance it's visual since the voices are, for the most part, suitably British.

They include Basil Rathbone as narrator, and a horse who sounds like George Formby. In some scenes the horse actually looks like Formby, so this voice may not be entirely accidental.

Badger, however, sounds like a Scotsman - the worst kind of stage Scotsman at that - rather than how I used to "hear" him as a C. Aubrey Smith-voiced crusty retired colonel.

That, however, is just personal preference.

However, Disney's Badger is not a proper British (more correctly, European) badger, Meles meles. Here's one, which though not the most amiable of beasts in reality, still manages to look fairly affable ("I say, old chap, whatever are you looking at?")

Instead he's a North American badger, Taxidea taxus, which not only has a less affable expression ("Hey, bud, you. Yeah, you. You lookin' at me? You lookin' at ME?") but, more important, different stripes.

Here's Disney's version alongside mine. The correction took about five minutes of pixel-tweaking.

Disney's animators could have got it right from the outset just as easily, because I'm pretty sure the reference library which provided costume info for Rat's tweed Norfolk jacket and britches included picture-books of natural history.

Come to that, any "The Wind in the Willows" after the unillustrated first edition would have been enough, and there must have been at least one copy lying around for story adaptation and scene-description purposes.

The first illustrated edition came out in the UK in 1931, and its artist was, at author Kenneth Graham's request, the very same E.H. Shepard who had illustrated the Pooh books just a few years previously...

...while this Arthur Rackham colour plate is from an edition published in 1940 in New York.

So those books wouldn't have been impossible for Disney to get.

The problem, however, is that if a word ("badger", for instance) is well known to mean one thing here, it may be Too Much Trouble to find out if the same word means something else there, with the result that finding out can sometimes come as rather a surprise.

Check the UK / US meaning of "suspenders" to see what I mean... ;->