me: sits down to write feeling full of inspiration

chronic pain: no 🙃

What’s up buttercup? L.N

Requested

"Dude, I just can't get her out of my head. I don't think I want to. All I want is to give her everything she's ever wanted." Lando mumbled, waiting for the familiar intro to Warzone to fade from the large screen in front of him. Max couldn't help but roll his eyes at his friend, Y/N and Lando had been a long time coming and Max was ecstatic that the longing lustful looks could finally be coming to an end. Don’t get it confused Max loved the pair but if he had to see the McLaren Driver he called his best friend stare wantingly at the y/h/c girl one more time he’d pull his hair out. "Yeah, sounds like you love her, mate." Max replied matter-of-factly sympathy seeping through his usually playful tone. 

"...Maybe I do." Lando agreed quietly, a soft smile finding its home on his tan face. Even just thinking about his childhood friend caused his heart to palpitate and his palms to sweat. The y/h/c girl had carved a special place in his soul just for her, she’d entwined herself with him from day one. Back when Y/N towered over him and beat him on the kart track more then he’d like to admit. 

“What’s up buttercup?” the y/h/c girl exclaimed loudly launching herself over the sofa the two boy’s occupied. “See I didn’t get an invite to the Mother’s meeting.” Y/N teased elbowing the suddenly silent Driver. “What have you done now Fewtrell… he’s broken.” Y/N muttered accusingly pouting at her lightly bearded flatmate. “Lando’s love life is depressing enough Y/N/N didn’t need you involved” Max shrugged the y/h woman off. Whipping around to face the F1 Driver jaw dropped Y/N gasped. “Little Lando’s growing up… well emotionally.” Y/N laughed, throwing her arms around the tanned man. 

Groaning in response Lando placed his controller down before gently removing Y/N’s y/s/c limbs from his shoulders delicately placing them in his lap, lacing his fingers with hers. Even just touching the young girl caused his heart to flutter Lando just hoped he didn’t look stupid. “So who’s the lucky girl?” Y/N interrogated the man, shooting him an excited grin. At least Y/N hoped it appeared that way, truth be told the y/h girl had overheard the two boy’s conversation before her rather dramatic entrance and it had hurt a little. Karma for eavesdropping maybe? Silence fell over the trio; it wasn't uncomfortable, just had a layer of awkwardness hidden under the surface. Fiddling with the girl's fingers Lando sent Max a frantic stare, his stormy azure eyes begging to be rescued. Imploring to be saved from the growing tension. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you're uncomfortable, Lando.” Y/N whispered hesitantly, removing her hand from his quickly. “I should leave you to it… Promised Dan I'd pop into his stream earlier.” the y/h/c girl stated wearily scrambling to the door of the sitting room. It soon became clear to the otherwise oblivious boys that Y/N was hurt, they couldn’t blame her, they used to share everything and now it probably seemed like they were keeping her out of the loop on purpose. 

Taking a deep breath Lando followed the girl quickly reaching out for her before she could slink upstairs and hide in her room. “It’s you Y/N/N” Lando confessed breathlessly, running a hand over his face in embarrassment. Three simple words and he could have ruined years of friendship. Could have? Who was he kidding? He definitely just ruined their relationship. “What?” Y/N choked out her y/e/c orbs wide at the Drivers revelation. “It’s always been you.” Lando mumbled pathetically cringing at how dumb he sounded. “Oh my God just kiss her you muppet!” Max groaned loudly from the sofa, throwing his head back in annoyance.

"you're still blushing," x damon albarn

I haven't written something for damon in ages so here you all go <333

Pairing: 90s damon albarn x reader

Warnings: nothing :)

Word count: 2.214

༉‧₊˚✧

Having a roommate was always helpful for when you needed to cut the cost of rent, and to have company with someone that you got along with since you either were not far into relationships to be able to move in with a significant other, or you weren’t in a one - in which by having a roommate, made things less lonely. Me and Damon had known each other for quite some time now as Graham introduced us since Damon was looking for a flatmate at a time where, for some reason everybody seemed as though they were already occupied with people they were living with and sharing rent. Perhaps he was a little too late looking into it, but when Damon and I met, it was practically a match made in heaven. Though he wasn’t the first person I’d want to share a flat with, as I had no idea who he even was, just that he was best friends with somebody I was also friends with, he was perhaps, as oddly as it sounds, the best choice for a stranger to share a flat with. We had been living together since his band was working on their debut album, Leisure, and since then we had developed a very close relationship with one another. We both shared love for the same music, read the same books, and he had a personality which formed out of pure ardor and benevolence, which made it very easy to be able to form a strong bond together. It was very enjoyable living with him, as we wouldn’t avoid each other at all. Whenever both of us were present, there was nothing we would rather do than just spend time with one another. When nothing was going for us on weekends, we tended to just sit there on the couch in the living room, drinking warm, hot mugs of tea made by Damon at his advance, simply chatting about anything and everything. We would talk until the sun had gone down, until one of us had practically fallen asleep on the other, which was usually me, giving Damon the chore of putting me into bed, which I would constantly be thanking him for the following morning. At certain points in our friendship it was hard to distinguish whether we had feelings for each other, or if it was just a strong platonic relationship; other people had consistently pointed out our relationship together, and how we supposedly acted as if we were the happiest couple in the world.

After being asked whether me and him were together or not countless times, I had begun thinking about our relationship from an outsider's perspective, and over time I had realised that I was gaining feelings for Damon as I started to take notice of the little things that he would do. The warm smiles that he would give me; his plump, soft lips curving in a philanthropic manner, almost child-like, filled with pure love and adoration for you that you would instantly urge yourself to reciprocate. The unneeded care that would ensue once he realised that I was sick and needed a day off, bringing me a warm cup of tea in the morning, also mentioning that he wasn’t attending his band session later on in the day because I was his main priority, and that music could wait. The way he would rush into my room whilst I was organising my laundry, his lyric book gripped in his hand with a pen in the other, practically begging me to hear the new verse he had surprisingly conjured up in a couple of seconds - my opinion meaning so much to him that he would force me to read his finished songs, changing whatever I thought didn’t suit. And not to mention his features. His angelic, ocean-like orbs, where your eyes would get lost in them instantaneously; causing you to wonder what sort of resplendent alchemy went forth in creating such adoring pools of blue; his foolproof nose, sculpted in everlasting beauty, locked in the middle of his face, showing there was no flaw in his features, that he was the definition of true excellence, and though not a part of his face, the hair from his fringe that would coat over his forehead ever so softly, so elegantly, the strands, though roughly brushed through, looked as if they had been done professionally by his hairdresser. You were unable to pinpoint a flaw on him - he was the embodiment of elegance. You’d simply wonder whether this kind of beauty exists, and to have it living with me, was unequivocally something my heart was unable to handle.

Stepping into the flat that we both shared, I quickly took my shoes off before locking the door. As I wandered around the apartment, the aroma of smoke was easily identifiable, implying that Damon was inside, and smoking. Once I reached the living space, I saw Damon was sitting on the couch, flicking through the channels on the TV. “You alright?” I asked him, leaving the shopping bags on the countertops of the kitchen. He turned to look at me, a sweet smile painted on his lips before he took another drag from his cigarette. Oh, to be that cancer stick.

“I’m alright.” He replied, putting out his cigarette on the glass ashtray in front of him, then getting up to help me with the groceries. “How are you, love?”

“I’m okay. I managed to get everything we needed before we both died from starvation.” I laughed, folding up the now-empty bags that were once brimmed to the full of things we needed.

My gaze was fixed on him as he shut the fridge door as I leaned my tired body on the counter, him making his way after shutting the door to stand as close to me as he could. There was practically no empty space between us as he held me in an embrace, his face hidden into my neck as he played with strands of my hair gently. “I missed you,” He uttered, my heart now swelled in adoration for the man that was holding me, unaware if my body was able to handle more of his tauntings. Once he pulled out of the embrace, he clung onto my hands whilst staring deeply into my eyes. I couldn’t help but blush deeply as I looked into his eyes, getting lost in the essence of his handsomeness. I noticed his warm smile form into a cheeky grin as I realised that he knew I was going red. “You’re blushing.”

Slightly embarrassed, I scrunched my face together and looked down to the ground. There was no way out of it, one day he was going to find out just how much I had grown a liking for him. Instead of responding, I moved away from the situation and headed to sit on the couch, knowing that he would follow suit. Once we sat together, I grabbed the cigar pack that was left open on the table and put a cigarette between my lips, looking at Damon as a form of asking where the lighter was. He immediately grabbed the lighter from his pocket and pressed it, causing a flame to come out. I leaned closer to him to allow him to light the roll of tobacco, my eyes not daring to move away from the sight of the flame. I felt his eyes staring intently at my features, the tension in the air being more prominent than it had ever been before. When it was lit, I instantly inhaled, exhaling sharply to expose the smoke that had quickly built up in my throat.

“What did you do today, Dames?” I asked him, attempting to instigate a conversation. His eyes were still lingering on me whilst my eyes tried everything they could to avoid embarrassing myself again, with another blush.

“Well I went in to do some recording, today was mainly for Graham’s guitar solo so we finished up early,” he answered, walking to the fridge to grab himself a beer, then coming back to sit right next to me. “Graham tells me you’ve got a crush on someone.”

After almost choking on the smoke created in my lungs, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks yet again, the action moving so fast I could feel my cheeks begin to sting. “Ehm- He told you that?”

“So it’s true…” Damon began, placing his drink on the coffee table, a smirk evident on his features. “I thought he was lying, since we usually tell each other everything, but your face says otherwise.” He added, my heart panging slightly as I felt bad that he thought that I didn’t want to tell him. Oh if only he knew it was about him. If only he knew that what I haven’t been able to keep my mind off for weeks on end was him. If only he knew that he’s all that engulfs my mind.

“Who’s the guy?” He asked, as I felt his body shift ever so slightly closer to mine, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as he noticed my stiffness.

“You don’t know him.” I mumbled, staring down at my feet as I felt his breath fan my face slightly, the redness of my cheeks still prominent though I tried to ignore the heat radiating out of them.

“Describe him to me then.” He said, in a teasing manner. Part of me felt that Graham told Damon that it was him, and knowing Graham he probably would’ve done that since he was one of the many who believed that we would’ve been good together since we acted like it. But I wasn’t planning on jumping to any conclusions just yet.

“Uhh well…” I felt my cheeks heat up a bright red again as I looked in Damon’s direction, quickly snatching his beer off the coffee table and taking a sip of it to calm my nerves. “He’s got blond hair, blue eyes…” At this point I was staring deeply into Damon’s eyes, full-well knowing I was redder than ever, hell, I was a tomato. However, as I stared at him, I thought of all the possibilities and chances I would be able to mention to him that I developed feelings for him, and chances that would be handed to me easily. At most, I would probably be forced to go up to him and tell him myself that I liked him, which I had no courage in doing so in fear of absolute rejection. Though the fear of rejection still resonated in my mind deeply, there was definitely no way out of Damon and his questioning - he wanted to know everything, and he wanted to know it all now.

“Hmm… Sounds familiar,” he began, the smirk on his face not leaving any second. “Don’t suppose this crush has a name, does he?”

The next few seconds felt as if they had been stilled. Every single thought that I could have ever mustered in my mind joined themselves together, making my mind and body feel as if the moment we were living in was not real, at all. I felt breathless, ironic to the fact that I had been exhaling large clouds of smoke in the room, but I suppose even when breathing, you can still have your breath taken away from the sight before you. It felt as if I was in a haze, a drunken stupor, a lucid dream that felt far too realistic, but I had never thought that this moment would ever occur in mine and Damon’s time living together, or even in a child-like fantasy, or ever. Our faces were inches apart, my eyes constantly flicking through his bountiful orbs and smooth lips, his eyes fixated on mine, as if he was searching for something. Something to tell him that his suspicions were correct.

“It’s you for god’s sake.” I mumbled before eagerly conjoining my lips with his. I felt as if I rushed myself into it, the feeling enrapturing my mind, my body, and especially my heart. There was no other moment I had felt equated to this as our bodies embraced one another’s, the pair of us slowly allowing what was happening to melt into our minds. My heart was pounding as if my life had depended on it, my mind raced with thoughts so anxious but elated as both our bodies allowed our mouths to brush past one another’s until we were at a loss for breath. Love had never felt so strong, love had never carried this much emotion, this much integrity. I felt as if there was nothing else I had needed other than this moment to characterise its virtue, the intimacy shared overstimulated my emotions, for I felt like balling into tears at this juncture - not out of sadness, but out of pure admiration and alleviation that all this tension over the past couple months was real, that the love we had for each other was real, and not some fantasy that I invoked in my mind. Parting away from him, my eyes were fixated on his features - there was nobody else on this planet that could make me feel such emotion than him.

“You’re still blushing, love.”

Fireheart - Chapter 19

I’m back with another chapter! YAY!

I know, I have no agenda to upload this whatsoever, I’m just trying to get it all up and I still have like 15 more chapters to catch up on D:

For more chapters, head to Ao3! I started updating there earlier on, so there’s way more chapters to indulge in!

For the Masterlist, click the word masterlist, no, no, not this one, the one at the start! Okay, just any Masterlist. All chapters up to this one are in there! n_n

New chapter alert & tiny one-human-tag-party: @tillyrubes10

(If you want to be added to the tag party whenever a new chapter is up, just sing along... I mean, let me know.) 

CHAPTER 19

Move On

Rowan didn’t understand why he had to be the one hiding with the girl. Fenrys had always been the one somehow in charge of the flat. As if being the oldest gave him an advantage in that sense. Not like you can be older than your twin, but Fenrys always prided himself in the fact that he was born two minutes before Connall. And Rowan didn’t have much discussion in the matter, he was three years younger than his flatmates after all. He didn’t normally mind it, he had always been mature for his age, and often thought he was even more mature than the twins combined. Even if Fenrys was 25 already, he still acted like he was 18 most of the time.

“A message for us?” His friend was saying in the lounge.

Rowan closed the door shut. He wanted to listen to the conversation, but he was also aware of the girl standing behind him, and the fact that she probably shouldn’t hear any kind of message coming from Maeve.

“You can have a seat if you want,” he told her as he pointed to the bed.

“Who’s that at the door?” The girl asked in a whisper and surprised him by actually taking a seat as he suggested. She left her duffel bag next to the bed, and sat down, crossing one leg on top of the other.

“Just someone from work.” 

“From the fights, you mean?” 

“Yes, from the fights. That’s not all we do, you know? We act as security in other venues as well.”

Why was he giving her that kind of information? He shook his head, feeling stupid for saying more than what has needed.

“But that guy at the door, he works at the fights, right?”

“So curious all of a sudden.” 

The girl bit her lip, and then shrugged theatrically.

“I’m stuck here, I thought I might as well just spark up some conversation.” She leaned against the headboard, looking bored.

“He works for our boss.” He explained against his better judgment. “Not necessarily at the fights, he’s more like… the kid that runs errands and delivers messages, the bottom of the chain if you know what I mean.” Damn, this girl was good at getting his tongue to loosen up.

“He sounds young,” she said, leaning sideways onto an elbow. She was wearing leather tights and a long-sleeved cream top with a low neckline, and Rowan got a glimpse of her flat stomach as she leaned farther back.

“He’s probably about your age,” he replied, knowing that the information was meaningless. Looking away towards the door, he peeked out again. He could still hear Fenrys talking in the lounge, so he closed the door and leaned against it. The atmosphere in the room was awkward. He had been so rude for no reason with the girl earlier and could feel how she was trying to analyze him now; which was annoying him.

“Can I ask you a question?” She shuffled back, sitting back against the headboard and resting a hand gently over her side. She looked a bit pale again, her lips faintly pink, and Rowan almost asked if she was feeling okay before deciding against it. The image of the girl sitting on his bed was unsettling him, no woman had been in that bed after… after.

“You can ask, I don’t guarantee I’ll reply.” He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for whatever was about to come his way. Anything was better than the memories trying to creep upon him.

“Have you been working at the fights for long? I know this tournament has been popular for years, or so I’ve heard.”

Easy enough question. “Just for a few years.”

“And Fenrys and Connall?”

“About the same, but that’s not my question to answer.”

“And… How old are you? If that might be a question for you to answer. I mean, you look a bit old...” She shrugged, and he almost felt like punching her for it. Old? Please, he wasn’t that much older than her! Not like he would ever punch a woman anyway.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer one first, this is not a fair game otherwise.”

She seemed to think it over, playing with the edge of her top and pouting her lips before she looked back up at him.

“Okay, I’ll give you just one answer.” She smirked at him, and he realized he had so many questions he wanted to ask. 

But no, he did not care. It didn’t matter that she was the youngest female fighter he had seen at the tournament. Or that she was the best fighter he had watched in that place. Nor did it matter that she had survived being beaten up by those thugs and was now acting as if nothing had even happened. It didn’t matter that she was pretending she wasn’t in pain when Rowan could see how she kept clutching her side and clenching her teeth whenever she moved. How she couldn’t find a comfortable position and kept shuffling around on the bed.

“What’s your name?” He asked finally, the question slipping off his lips without his mind’s consent. “I can’t get myself to call you Fireheart, it sounds stupid,” he added when he saw her scowl.

She narrowed her eyes, and her lips pursed to one side. “You ask complicated questions.”

“It’s just a name, and you know ours. You know where we live, you know so much about us already. What are you so scared of? What are you hiding?” He regretted the questions as soon as he said them. He didn’t care, it didn’t matter. He could keep calling her girl, but for some reason, not even having a name was annoying him. After all, she did know who they all were and where they lived, they were at a clear disadvantage. They had all put themselves in danger to host her at their house, the least she could do, was give them a name. After a moment that was almost too long, the girl nodded and smiled up at him. It was a little twisted smile, and it kind of suited her.

“I guess you have a point.” She paused for a moment, and Rowan thought she wasn’t going to tell him after all. “You can call me Celaena.”

Celaena… It was a weird feeling, but he thought the name didn’t suit her, like it wasn’t what he was expecting. 

“Just so you know, I always keep my word... I’m 22.”

At that moment, a knock sounded on the door and Rowan turned around fast, opening the door only an inch and moving his body to occupy the gap so whoever was at the door couldn’t see inside the room.

“Just me,” Fenrys said from the other side, smirking from ear to ear.

Rowan stepped back and opened the door fully. “What did he want?” He asked cautiously.

“Nothing too important, he was just delivering a message. Connall has gone back to work with him, and I’ll have to pull an all-nighter, so I might head to bed and sleep for a few hours.” He leaned to the side, looking at Celaena now standing by the bed. “I guess I’ll see you at the next round of fights.”

“You will. I’m not on for another two weeks though, but I guess I’ll see you then. Thanks for everything Fenrys.”

“You’re welcome, Fireheart.”

Celaena chuckled, grabbed her duffel bag, and took a step towards the door. “You can call me Celaena today, or if we ever ran into each other outside of that dungeon.”

Rowan scoffed while Fenrys’ laughed brightly at the joke. It shouldn’t be funny, that place did feel like a dungeon to him. After all, he was a prisoner of his life choices and was trapped there until his sentence was over.

Celaena walked the few steps left towards the door and squeezed past Fenrys onto the hallway. “Don’t mind me, I’ll see myself out.”

“Your keys are on the little table by the front door,” Fenrys called after her, “and your bike is in the garage down on the lower level... Maybe Rowan could show you where it is.”

“I’m sure I can find it on my own.”

Rowan stepped into the hallway as he remembered how Fenrys had explained she had passed out right after leaving the alley. “Do you even know how to get back to your place from here?”

“How hard can it be? Rifthold is pretty easy to navigate. How far are we from the gymnasium where the fights take place?”

“Ten minutes from here to the Fossa.” He replied. “That’s what we call it.”

“Easy, thanks again.”

Celaena finished walking down the hall and into the lounge, and Rowan found himself taking another step forward.

“Thinking about following her?” Fenrys asked in a hushed tone as he watched her walk away.

“What?” 

“Come on mate, I’ve known you for years, and I can tell when something’s cooking in that brain of yours. You don’t trust her. You think she might bring us trouble somehow. Are you thinking about following her to see where she goes?”

“No, I…” Was he? He was puzzled, there was something about Celaena that just didn’t make sense to him. “No, I’m not. I’m done with this. She’s gone, and we can go back to our normal lives, move on. She can keep fighting, do her thing, and we’ll do our jobs. We will go to work, make money, pay back our debts, and be out as soon as we can. We’ll follow the plan.”

Fenrys nodded, but there was a twisted smirk on his face that wouldn’t leave him. “As you say.”

“Fenrys, tell me you haven’t fallen for the girl. Please, she’s like, 8 years younger than you!”

“What? No! Don’t be stupid, she seems more like... I don’t know… A little sister,” he said dreamily. “I always wanted a little sister.”

Rowan grabbed him by the shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “Listen to me, she is not your sister. She is not your problem to worry about, okay? We don’t need to get ourselves in deeper shit, let the girl be.” He shook Fenrys lightly, tightening his grip. “You are not her guardian, okay? You already did more than enough.”

Fenrys pushed Rowan with a palm against his chest, shaking his head as he turned around and started heading towards his bedroom. “Don’t you worry mate, everything will be alright.”

As Fenrys closed his bedroom door, Rowan ran a hand through his long hair and let out a loud sigh. He loved his mate like a brother, but sometimes he wished Fenrys would give fewer shits. His interest in Celaena was going to get them in trouble if he didn’t drop the subject. 

He couldn’t wait to be out of it all, for their debts to be paid so they could finally be out of the lifestyle they were living. 

Rowan walked towards the window in the back of his room and looked down to the street. Only a few seconds later, a black motorbike sped out of the garage, Celaena’s blond hair dancing in the wind behind her as she accelerated towards the city center. 

One less thing to worry about.

After talking with Fenrys earlier on, he was mostly convinced that Cain wasn’t going to be stupid enough to say or do anything at the fights; the matter was most likely resolved. Cain was a vengeful prick, but they didn’t think he would go after Celaena or any of them outside of the Fossa again, not if he knew what was best for him. Fenrys, Connall, and Rowan were known to be a tight team, and Cain had been around for long enough to know that if he messed with one of them, he’d be messing with all three.

Rowan slumped on his bed, looking up at the roof and trying to ease his mind, to convince himself that he was right. He was hoping that by the end of the tournament, he would have made enough money to pay most of his debt. Maybe one more tournament after that one, and he could finally be free of Lyria’s legacy.

Bond’s New Flatmate (Chpt. 3)

“Were you born in a barn?”

[James Bond X Reader X Q]

[Word count; 2800 (ish)]

[Prompt; James is beginning to get fed up of how the reader is unable to notice him in all aspects, even if he lets his pride in the way and refuses to show any form of interest in her. Finally tying to aim for a change, James has a surprise in store for the reader only to come across a few ‘minor’ complications when putting it into action…]

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

[A/N: I tried to make this as entertaining as possible! So I hope you enjoy the world’s husband Q being up to his shenanigans once again!]

“I heard Madeleine is coming to visit soon. How’s that going?” Q said, walking over to his laptop and began typing, while Bond stood at his desk with his hands in his pockets.

“That’s one of the reasons I’m here. She’s visiting on Monday-”

“That’s great!”

Bond shook his head immediately, “I need you to get her off my back.”

“Seriously?”

“I’m still trying to avoid her at the moment. I’m occupied with...other things at the moment.”

“Do enlighten me. Why are you avoiding her again?”

“She’s a bit more clingy than I thought she would be.”

“Really how so?” He said with a sense of sarcasm in his tone.

“This isn’t funny. Think of a child with their favourite blanket, one that they cannot let go of at all and refuse to leave. That describes what I am trying to avoid at the moment.”

“Ouch. Those blankets do tend to be quite old and rugged.” He pulled a face at Bond, trying his best not to chuckle as the man glared at him. “Can you please get her off my back?”

“I’ll see what I can do...Not like I have a choice anyway.” He mumbled.

Bond began to smile when Q raised the question, “What is it you’re occupying yourself with? M hasn’t left you any assignments has he?”

“No.” Bond lengthened the word, watching Q finally figure out what he was talking about.

“Does this have anything to do with Y/N by any chance?”

“Yes.”

Q huffed in a ridiculed manner and shook his head, “I’m telling you. There’s something strange going on with Y/N. I fear the next time I see her she’ll probably blow up my flat again and I can’t keep paying for insurance, they’ll think I’m intentionally doing it to get money out of it. All because I said a few things.”

“Are you sure this is Y/N we’re talking about? Burning a flat out of revenge for a little light hearted flirting? Now that doesn’t sound like her.” He said sarcastically, sipping his tea. Q smiled to himself as he continued typing on his laptop, he was working in his workshop as usual when James decided to pay his colleague a visit, after all they finally had a mutual connection and that was you. So Q was no longer avoidable in this situation. For the past couple of weeks, you had been popping in and out of the flat, returning late and hadn’t spoken a word to James or held a conversation. You were just too busy to see him now you had gotten a job elsewhere at a place you hadn’t even told James either as part of a private hire investigative/forensic scientist. You had slightly been off also ever since James had a conversation with you about Q, in which you clearly stated to him that you weren’t really looking to reminisce past memories, to which Bond responded with a laugh.

“I’m being serious. Another question, is she usually so - antisocial? She’s been ignoring me the past week. Probably plotting something...”

“Yep. That is Y/N we are talking about.” He chuckled. “My dear wife does have a bad habit of completely ignoring everyone.”

James felt a sudden distaste at the tip of his tongue once he heard the term ‘wife.’ He suddenly would feel this itchy feeling creeping in that made his skin crawl and heart thump. It wasn’t pleasant.

“Anyway why are you so bent on gaining Y/N’s attention? Is there something I don’t know about? Remember James, she’s still married.”

“Oh please.” James hissed defensively, “I don’t do married women.”

“Wasn’t Lucia married when you went to bed with her?”

“Widowed.”

“What about that other one from Croatia?”

“Recently divorced. Come on Q, you should’ve known that.” He tutted.

“Harriet, that minister’s daughter from Sweden?”

“Ok, maybe that’s the only one you have on me but her husband was elsewhere. It’s also part of the job, incase you weren’t aware. Other than that I don’t do married women! Especially not Y/N whom I have no interest in.”

“You don’t find her attractive whatsoever?”

“Nope.”

“Harsh. Not even a little bit? Nothing there for her? Even if she worr a full face of makeup, prepared to go on a date?” Q smirked proudly, sipping his tea once again.

“Pft. Of course I don’t. No. That’s wrong!….God no….No.” James laughed quickly, interrupting Q. He tried his best not to get flustered in front of Q, especially over someone he hadn’t even considered having feelings for...possibly. It all made sense to him at that moment. The way he felt neglected suddenly when you ignored him, busy with work. He felt a sense of emptiness, unable to hear your laughter at something ridiculous on the television, in which he would insult, or laugh at serious situations he had tried to talk about, he couldn’t help but crack a smile at those moments. Even tell you off when you stole one of his shirts, sometimes to wear, most of the time to use for some practical experiment of some sort, meaning he’d have to reprimand you for it. It wasn’t like you two had an argument, you both were just too busy to pay attention to each other...And it was only a fortnight! Actually, the main problem was that you were too busy stressing yourself with work that you hardly even saw James, even when you returned to the flat late you were straight off to sleep and gone by the next morning. “I’m concerned for her as a friend and a flatmate...and for my safety. Not used to the silent treatment, it’s very concerning.”

“Alright fine.” Q sighed, “I know something that’ll get her attention. But you have to do this perfectly otherwise she’ll walk in and completely ignore what’s in front of her.”

“I’m listening.”

------------------------------

The weekend had finally arrived and you were able to take a well deserved rest. You spent most of the morning asleep and noticed James wasn’t in the flat so you decided to accept a friend’s invite and head off out with them for the day.

James managed to return to his flat by 6.00 pm. It was already pretty dark outside, considering winter in Britain was just - brilliant. He managed to go shopping for different ingredients and had really taken Q’s advice to heart. What was his advice? To make you a home cooked meal. Bond’s idea was to spoil you with a home cooked meal and somehow manage to use his wits to steer you into the direction of beginning to like him, which seemed ridiculous to him at first but there was something about you that he just couldn’t clear from his mind. In the space of a little over an hour, James managed to cook you your favourite dish (choose name) and set the table with a bottle of wine and light the candle in front of it. He sat two plates neatly with the cutlery and had almost finished cooking when he heard the door open.

You began to smile , surprised at the smile of your favourite dish coming from inside the dish as you noticed James was dressed impressively in casual clothing. He was in a navy blue t shirt with a pair of black jeans and trainers, after all he overheard you talking to a friend about how you were into guys who dressed in casual clothing quite a lot of the time, yet could suit up when they needed to.

“What’s this?” You asked, amazed by the sight.

“I figured you’ve been busy with work and deserve a home cooked meal to relieve some of that stress and we eat out a lot so tonight I’m just throwing something together.”

“That’s so sweet, I can’t believe you’d do this and I’m surprised you knew my favourite dish.”

“Of course I’d know. I do listen when you talk to me. You do know that right?”

You smiled as James poured you a glass of wine. “Loving the casual look as well, it suits you.” You winked.

Just before you could step any further towards you looked back for a moment smiling before collecting the glass.

“Ever heard the expression were you born in a barn?” James laughed, shaking his head.

“Yes of course I have and I find that very rude considering I can’t close the door on a guest.” James began sipping his drink when he saw Q walk through the door and instantly he spat it out, glaring at him.

“I guess she wasn’t born on a barn at all. Thank you for keeping the door slightly ajar for me Y/N, I do appreciate it. There was a quick phone call I had to make. Oh what a beautiful scene, I’m not intruding on anything am I?” He looked directly at James, smiling to find the man growling under his breath.

“The little shit…” James thought, giving a fake smile.

“I’m really sorry I should’ve known you were going to make dinner. If I had known-” You apologised looking at James.

“Don’t worry. Dinner for two can turn to three...right?”

“Excellent.” Q responded as you told him to make himself comfortable inside while you headed off with James into the kitchen.

“I really hope you don’t mind the fact I invited Q over.” You said, reaching for another glass. James grabbed another plate and looked at you smiling, “Of course I don’t. Why would I be bothered?”

“Thank you, for all of this.” You placed your hand on his chest for a moment, smiling before you left to go and join Q inside the front room.

Dinner was not awkward at all...There wasn’t any tension...Q definitely wasn’t scared of what James was going to do with a knife and fork in his hand. You looked on at the two, it was a tense atmosphere and you were starting to enjoy yourself ever so slightly as you poured the two more wine, especially for James who you could have heard growling at Q if you were sat where he was.

“So, Bond, you never told me you were a cook.” Q said to break the ice, smiling as he gulped on his wine.

“I don’t cook often because I’m never in my flat, remember?” Bond said, trying his best not to make it sound so sharp and harsh. “Then again we all have tricks up our sleeves don’t we?”

“Unfortunately some of those tricks usually don’t go accordingly to plan do they?” Q chuckled.

You were seriously enjoying this. You watched the two trade sly remarks to one another and didn’t even need to speak to keep the conversation going. That was until things started to get slightly out of hand and you could tell Q was beginning to get a little frightened in James’ presence.

“Alright children, that’s enough. You argue like my colleagues at work and I need a break from that.” You tutted, “James, you know this reminds me of that time we went to the pizza parlour and you made the restaurant manager feel uncomfortable because asked if the food was okay.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” James smiled at Q’s direction. You could sense Bond was all for making Q jealous of your friendship, except it had the opposite effect. You knew Q best, he was a lot smarter than that.

“Y/N, you remember back in Oxford, how we were a part of the unstoppable trio. You me and Jonathan in the chemistry lab working on quite the discovery.”

“Oh yes, in fact I do remember. We were all pretty spontaneous back then.” You cautiously said, looking over at James as the man raised his eyebrows at the word ‘spontaneous.’

“Spontaneous you were indeed.” Q winked, “Once Jonathan, who seemed to be the third wheel at the time, had left us I remembered when we both thought it would be a good idea to make sparks fly inside that lab...and not only from the -”

“Out of all people to talk about to, you decide to talk to my flatmate? Can we not, while we’re having dinner?” You interrupted quickly before he could go into detail, getting all flustered, that was when your phone began to ring. “Oh, I’ve got to pick up this call, must be work. I’ll be right back.” You walked off to take the phone as James turned to Q.

“You came up with this whole idea just so you could ruin it!” Bond hissed.

“What makes you think that?”

“Don’t try that crap with me Q. You better tell me the rest of this story.” He said, glaring at Q,who began to smile.

“Like I said, Y/N is very spontaneous, she could be adventurous if she wanted to. I thought she was quite the casual woman at first, her idea of a romantic night was simply just to have a night of binge watching television, playing video games and having snacks but she’s more open to anything really. It takes a lot to keep up with someone like her, good thing I was always able to in those encounters. In that chemistry lab was the first of many times. Not only in there though, that would be very wrong. The way she took those bottles and…” Q started into his glass, smirking and took a quick gulp before he looked back up at James, “Actually maybe that is a story for another day.” He smiled, noticing how interested James was.

“You a little shit.”

“Now, that is a rude thing to say to your guest. Why would you call me that? Were you thinking of having a romantic evening in with my wife?”

“Your wife. Wife. It is a funny word isn’t it? Usually ot associates those who I don’t know - live together, spend time together, not four years apart and later for the husband to discover she is sharing a flat with another man.”

“Hey, I never said our marriage was perfect.”

“You hadn’t seen her for four years! That’s hardly a marriage at all if you ask me. She’s practically single.”

“I trust you enough not to try anything on with dear Y/N.”

“What if I don’t have to try anything? What if she’s already onto me?” James winked.

“Now that would be absurd considering you don’t do married women, remember? And besides, Y/N is a lot smarter than you think she is. She wouldn’t come onto someone she isn’t attracted to even if it was a matter of life and death.” He chuckled.

As the tension started to build you joined the two once again, noticing James holding his fork upwards with the bottle of wine completely finished. “Why hello Y/N. We were just discussing how Bond’s girlfriend Madeleine will be visiting soon from Austria. On Monday.”

James’ eyes bulged immediately, his breathing began to run sharp, he was infuriated.

“I knew it! I knew they were dating! But girlfriend, sounds very serious. If she ever visits - actually go to a hotel room I think that would preferable. Congratulations.”

Q could sense James’ blood boiling as he clutched the glass of wine in his hand.

“Well, lovely dinner James. It was absolutely delicious, I should start visiting more often.” Q said, quickly wiping his mouth with the handkerchief.

“Please don’t.” He said sternly, low enough so both of you couldn’t hear him.

“Y/N, it’s been a pleasure spending all day with you, hopefully we can do it again sometime.”

“Yeah, alright, if you say so.” He leaned in and gave a quick kiss to your cheek then winked at James and left quickly before James could attempt to throw the fork at him.

“He did not need to do that.” You muttered under your breath rolling your eyes before you turned to James, “What was that all about? He left real quick.” You said curiously.

“I don’t know. M called him for something.”

“At this time of the night?”

James nodded as he cleared the plates.

“You said something to him didn’t you?”

“He just came up with some terrible ideas that’s all.” Bond chuckled as you rolled your eyes.

A Study in Pink

Pairing: It Had to Happen: Jude Law John Watson x Sister!Reader

Warnings: Lots of Pink

A/N: Sort of a pair to go with The Courier... siblings everywhere.

Light flooded the messy room and Sherlock Holmes shrieked, throwing his hands up against the stinging brightness as John Watson chuckled. The doctor finished opening the curtains as he notified his friend, “I do hope you remember that my sister is coming for a visit Sherlock. I expect you to be on your best behavior and to put on something more than your nightclothes. She is a proper lady and you will treat her as such.” “Of course my dear Watson. I wouldn’t dream of doing otherwise.” John turned to give him a look that said I’m serious and I don’t believe you but Sherlock wasn’t looking at him, having moved to fiddle with something on one of the many tables in his room as he nonchalantly asked, “When is she due to arrive?” “I’m to retrieve her from the station at half-past two.” Sherlock moved to steer him out of the room, “Right. I’ll be otherwise occupied until four o’clock. Do not disturb me.”

The door was shut in John’s face before he could do anything and he sighed, he’d tried- now all he could do was pray to God that he didn’t do anything drastic while you were there. He looked at his watch, he still had a few hours before he needed to retrieve you so he might as well get some paperwork done for his practice. He was just heading into his room when there was knock on the front door and he went to answer it. As soon as your brother opened the door you pushed past him, “I hate our family, John. All of them. They are so dull and… and… tedious.” He was still sort of standing in shock and you turned to give him a soft smile, “Except you of course. I hate everyone save you.” He finally recovered, “Did you come here on your own? I was supposed to retrieve you and escort you back… it’s not safe for a lady to be walking about alone. I thought your train wasn’t going to arrive until later.” You rolled your eyes, “I just had to get away from Harry so I found one that allowed me to leave earlier.” “It can’t have been that bad, (F/n).” You gestured to your dress, “Do you see what he has me in? This pink atrocity… That infernal man knows I hate the color and forces it upon me just to infuriate me. He even insisted I wear this idiotic little hat.” You flicked it with your finger and then mocked your eldest brother, “ ‘You will be meeting the amazing Sherlock Holmes. You have to look your best, (F/n)’ I highly doubt a man as eccentric as you and the papers describe cares whether or not I wear a silly hat in this dreadful shade of pink.” John looked you over with a bemused expression-he had to admit it was the brightest shade of pink he’d ever seen and didn’t lack for frills and bows. You scowled at him, “Show me to your room.” He raised an eyebrow at your demand, “You’ve only just arrived don’t you want-“ You shook your head violently, “Now, please.” He led you to his room only to be shoved out and have the door shut in his face…again. He leaned against the doorframe with a sigh, he’d forgotten how Harry could so easily work you up into a tiff by insisting you wear certain dresses or taking you to places where you were expected to be seen and not heard- among other things. He was about to knock on the door, curious as to what you might be doing in his room, when it opened and you stepped out to provide an answer to his question. You had changed into a set of his clothes- a white shirt tucked into grey trousers with suspenders- and loosed your hair from its prim bun under the hat, shaking it out with a hand as you let out a relieved sigh, “I can breath again. I swear I’ve never been so glad to be rid of anything in my entire life.” “You can’t wear that, (F/n). It’s not proper for a young lady to wear a man’s clothing.” You leveled him with a flat and serious look, “I will wear what I please, proper or not. Father has already disowned me for not marrying that idiot as he demanded of me. So sod proper.” John let out a resigned sigh and you flashed a triumphant grin before throwing your arms around his neck in a hug, “Oh I’ve missed you so terribly, John.” “And I you” he exclaimed, returning your hug tightly before letting go when he heard Sherlock’s voice behind him, “I thought you said she was a proper lady, Watson. From what I see, she is a lady but far from proper.” You ducked behind your brother as a blush colored your cheeks and John scolded his flatmate, “I also told you to behave.” You rested your forehead on his back as you grumbled, “This is all Harry’s fault. I hate him. Him and that ghastly pink dress.” John turned to wrap you in a hug, reassuring you, “Chin up, little sister, you were the one who said sod proper remember? Sherlock hardly cares as he is rarely ever proper himself.”   There was a deep bark causing all three of you to jump and look in that direction before you gave a wide grin and dropped to your knees as its source, John’s bulldog, bounded towards you, “Glady!” You took him up in your lap as he licked at your face and you giggled, “You are heavier than I remember. Someone has been feeding you well.” He rolled off your lap and looked up at Sherlock as he let out another bark, as if to name the man as his source of extra food, and John gaped at him, “I told you not to feed him anything more, Sherlock. What have you been giving him?” You scratched at Gladstone’s ears as they began to argue and then looked up at your brother, “Come now, John. He looks healthy enough and he’s obviously happy. Let Mr. Holmes alone.” John flushed red, having forgotten you were there, and offered you a hand, “My apologies, dear sister. It seems in living here I’ve forgotten my manners.” You took his hand, gracefully lifting off the floor before he linked his arm with yours and faced Sherlock, “Sherlock I’d like to introduce you to my younger sister. (F/n). (F/n)- the great Sherlock Holmes.” You offered a hand for him to shake and a shy smile as you dipped in a curtsy, “A pleasure, Mr. Holmes.” To your surprise he bent to graze your knuckles with a kiss, eyes locked on you the entire time, “Please call me Sherlock and I can assure you with one hundred percent certainty that the pleasure is all mine, Miss Watson.” You went an interesting shade of red and John pulled you away from him with a glare, “Would you like some tea, (F/n)? You must be tired from traveling.” You gave a little nod, tugging at the hem of your trousers, “Some tea would be much appreciated and perhaps some socks?” He looked down at your bare feet, “What happened to yours?” Sherlock gave an amused grin as he answered for you, “They were pink.” “Correct” you hummed and John scowled, “I believe Harry may have gone a bit too far with that.” “And I refer you back to my previous statement of my hatred of our family.” He sighed, “Save me. I remember.  Allow me to get you some socks in a less garish color before your feet freeze and you catch cold.”        

Not one of Them - Epilogue 1: Payback

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

A/N; Alright, here we go. Epilogue No.1. Have fun and I'll say something about it at the end ;)

. o O o .

Tuffnut Thorston, or better known as Crazy T, let his gaze wander over the crowded dance floor below him. Just as usual, people were dancing and swaying to the music he decided to play and in his opinion, this was the best job in the world. It was his decision that influenced the people's mood, his decision whether those guys over there would go crazy over some Metal music, whether those smaller groups of girls would shyly hob back and force with their drinks still in hand or whether couples would more or less make out openly right there in front of everyone. It was fun!

Today was different though. Today, he also intended to influence the people's mood but in a different way. It made him a bit nervous but then, it wasn't his plan and he only played a small role in it. He only needed to get the ball rolling.

"Any idea when it's going to start?" he asked, but his sister who sat at a table behind him just shrugged.

"No idea. She said someone would tell us when to start. Could be any moment now or still be hours. You know how those guys are, on it like rabbits."

"Thanks, Ruff. I didn't need that picture in my mind!" answered another female voice as she approached the private table up here at the mixing desk.

T turned and greeted the newcomer with their usual high five. The young woman with the wild blond hair and voluptuous curves still grimaced but neither T nor his sister were earnestly concerned about Cami's innocence of mind. She'd traded in that card a long time ago.

"It's true though. I don't know about her but he can be a bit demanding sometimes," Ruffnut replied with a smirk and T grimaced. He knew that his sister regularly banged random blokes but he didn't need to hear her talking about it. Time to change the topic.

"I still can't believe you knew about this!" he said reproachfully. "Honestly, C. H is a friend of mine, a warning might have been nice."

The blonde just shrugged. She made a specific gesture toward one of the waiters and then slumped down on one of the empty chairs. "I see him as a friend, too," she stated nonchalantly and inspected her fingernails. "We're kind of the same, after all. Always on the hunt. And from the few times we clashed, I can say that he's one of those who never makes things complicated. I like him."

"Why did you make this bet then? Honestly, that was just disgusting!" Ruff said angrily and T nodded. He was all for playing tricks but this bet was a bit over the top, even for his taste. Cami, however, just rolled her eyes.

"There never was a bet!" she sighed exasperatedly. "Honestly, what do you think of me?"

"That someone did make a bet with that bitch. And there were enough people around you who heard you talking."

The waiter came with Cami's order and she took a big sip of her cocktail before she answered.

"Yes, Ruff, I talked to her. But I didn't make a bet with her! She was new in town and I wanted to meet her, this self-proclaimed Sex-Goddess," Cami snorted.

T and Ruff exchanged a knowing smirk. "So, you felt threatened on your thrown?" Ruff asked with a grin.

But Cami ignored her. "She claimed she could have any man she wanted for as long as she wanted. Which is hilarious! Even men aren't stupid enough to put up with someone like her for long, no matter how good the sex is. But she didn't stop bragging. Honestly, I've never met someone this annoying and I know a lot of people. Anyway, I called her a show-off and... might have mentioned that I know at least one guy she wouldn't be able to keep chained to only her bed for long. She took that as a challenge, I guess..." Cami grimaced and shook her head.

"Honestly, I never expected Haddock would fall for her seduction. But hey, he's a big boy and it's not like it would hurt him to be used for only sex." She took another sip of her drink and then placed the glass back on the table between them. When she continued talking, she sounded apologetic. "I swear, I didn't know about this 'fake relationship'-thing she was playing on him; not until he send me all that stuff the other day. I would have said something long ago if I'd known! And I definitely didn't know that Eret was part of her game, either. I still want to scratch her eyes out for that. Tricking a playboy into sex is one thing. Tricking an uninvolved girl into a disgusting lie of a relationship though?" Cami angrily shook her head.

"Well, then let's just hope there are enough other people who think like you," Ruff stated dryly. "That's kind of what Haddock's idea was, right? Not the gory part, but..." she trailed off and T stepped in.

"So, what exactly is the plan then? You said you need my help, but for what exactly?" he asked, glancing at his mixing desk. All he'd gotten was a message from H where he'd explained the situation. He'd said that C would contact him and explain the rest.

"Oh, you'll love this!" Cami grinned. "You have this App here at the club, remember? The one where you announce special theme-days and people can make song requests and all?"

T nodded. Nearly every regular visitor to this club had this app on their phone. It was convenient; they even could put in a warning when the club was full and the waiting line outside too long.

"See, I have this neighbour," Cami went on. "Justin. He's an adorable dork. He programmed a little bug for me and –"

"And you banged him in return?" Ruff threw in.

"Actually, no, I didn't. He's far too awkward for casual sex. But he's a nice guy and once fell for a girl like Heather as well. He was all too willing to help."

"Adorable awkward dork," Ruff mused. "I might need to pay him a visit someday."

T grimaced. "He programmed a bug, you said. For our App? How does that work?" The thought made him a bit uncomfortable. Surely, neither C nor H would do something to compromise him in his job or harm this club in general, but still...

"Yeah. He gave me this," Cami held up a small USB-stick. "I just needed to plug it into your computer here, and –"

"Wait, wait, wait!" T interrupted her. "You broke into the office just now?"

Once more, Cami rolled her eyes. "Of course, I didn't! I convinced one of your security guys to open it for me."

"Which one?" Ruff cackled. "Scott or Throg?"

"Scott," the other girl replied. "I promised him a weekend at my mum's holiday house in return."

"Uhg, really?" Ruff shuddered. "Fair warning, he can get a bit annoying. Never stops talking about himself."

"Ah, he's not so bad," Cami replied with an insinuating smirk. "You just need to keep his mouth otherwise occupied and then he's fantastic company." Both girls began to snicker and now it was on T to roll his eyes.

"Alright, back to the main point. You hacked our App! What are you planning? And does Mala know about it?"

Cami sobered up again and a calm smile spread across her face. "Yeah, don't worry. Your boss knows I kind of hijacked her club tonight. She knows me after all. And she knows Haddock and Astrid and what kind of girl Heather is. She's okay with paying her and Eret back. She just didn't want to know too many details and be involved directly in any way.

"And the plan is that you get most people off the dance floor. Play some slow love ballad. The happy couples in this room aren't the ones we need anyway. Then I'll send a specific song request, a codeword. It'll only work once and then the bug should inactivate itself. But once I did that, the App will send an announcement to everyone who has your App on their phone. Nearly all phones in here should start beeping at once. That should draw enough attention so people look it up directly. The announcement contains what Haddock send me, Heather's and Eret's bragging about how they tricked them. He blacked out a few parts, those who would be too detailed about his friend, I guess. But you get the idea anyway. Everyone will know what they did and believe me, no-one is going to like it. She went way too far!"

T nodded but there was still an unanswered question. "And what are we waiting for? I mean, why not do it now? As soon as people know, Heather and Eret will have a hard time fooling anyone else. Isn't that the point?"

"Ah, where would be the fun in that?" Cami smirked. "No, I had an idea that went a bit further and Haddock agreed," she took another sip from her drink, obviously holding the twins in suspense on purpose. Taking her time, she put the glass down and leaned back in her chair.

"I invited her here today," she finally went on. "Told her I want to pay my respect for her accomplishment. She'll walk in here, expecting to be hailed as the one who captured Hiccup Haddock. I'm sure there are those who would have admired her for that. But as I said, she went too far. Instead of congratulations, she'll only get insults and scorn. For someone who's so obsessed with how people regard her, a humiliation like this will be worse than being dragged to court, believe me. And it'll stick in the people's mind. She'll never be able to pull something like this ever again!"

Ruff, who seemed to have heard this part before, nodded before asking another question. "How do you know when to send this announcement though? I'm pretty sure at least Eret has our App as well. They won't show up here when they know everyone read this."

Cami glanced at her phone. "A little bird is going to tell me when it's time," she murmured mysteriously. Then she glanced up and grinned at Ruff's and T's confused expressions. "Her brother isn't all too happy with what she pulled off, either. I know Dagur from an... ah... other club. He's a decent guy and didn't know about the game she and his flatmate played. Just that they both also slept with other people, but that was nothing new. Usually, those people knew about each other, after all.

"Anyway, he'll tell me when they left his flat and are on their way. They won't stop just to check their phones, assuming they notice them beeping at all. And I arranged for them to be on the special guest list so they don't have to wait outside, either."

Cami looked at them both with a smug expression and T couldn't help but feel similar. He'd meant what he'd said earlier. He considered H to be a friend even when the man barely ever let anyone near him, metaphorically spoken. No-one but A, that is. T had wondered about what kind of relationship those two had shared, had been slightly worried about them during the past months and now was glad to know they'd finally made up their minds.

For about half an hour, not much happened. C and Ruff had started to talk about men again and T tried to tune them out and concentrated on his music instead. But when a short and slightly metallic sounding battle cry and the noises of a vibrating phone echoed toward him, he turned toward the girls again. Cami had her phone in her hand and a mischievous smirk spread across her face.

"Alright," she announced. "That's the signal. Your turn now, T. Slow and intense." She flashed him a grin which got her two pairs of rolling eyes.

"So, Haddock and Astrid won't be here for this payback?" Ruff asked instead. "I know I would want to be there if the bitch who played a trick like that on me gets grilled."

Cami gave her a thoughtful look. "Me too, I guess. But, no, they won't be here. Something about never wanting to see them again, I think," she shrugged. "Works for me," she pushed her chair closer to the railing as to have a better view of the dancefloor below. "This way, I can brag about how it went to him tomorrow. So much more fun!"

Shaking his head at her eagerness, T turned once more to his mixing desk when the song playing right now came to an end.

"Alright, guys," he called into his mic. "Have a little break and relax for once. I'm giving you slow and lovely. Don't blame me!" He started the track – Taylor Swift, not what he played often – and thereby got the ball rolling.

It was sufficient to say that everything worked as Cami had planned.

. o O o .

I freely admit that I didn't think much about any revenge when I first planned this story. I mainly focused on Hiccup and Astrid getting together. But as I wrote it out, Heather and Eret became even more horrible and I realised that, yes, there had to be some kind of payback.

Now, I don't think any legal means would work. Hiccup bought all those things for her and freely gave them over after the breakup. And as bad as it is, cheating and playing tricks isn't illegal last time I checked.

And I can't see (this) Hiccup or Astrid planning some ambush to beat them up either. Because that would be illegal!

After some while of thinking about it, I then came up with this idea. I'm sorry if some of you are disappointed but, personally, I have to say I like this outcome. Hiccup has more friends than he thinks, I guess. ;) And it was a Hel lot of fun to write! :D

The next epilogue might take a bit longer or might be up tomorrow, who knows... xD But it will be fluff and smut!

Epilogue 2

[MF] The Death of Alice Grey

The last time I saw Alice Grey her body was strewn across the pavement below my office window. Staff were warned not to look outside after she had jumped from the roof. Driven by some unknown instinct, most ignored the advice.

A bristling, nervous energy developed as news of Alice’s death percolated through the department. The odd whisper and sob pierced the increasingly suffocating sense of disquiet. Many simply sat in silence, not sure what to make of what had just happened.

Told to stop working, yet unable to leave until the police had arrived on the scene I sat at my desk fiddling with a small roll of Sellotape. I was trying to see how far I could push it with the end of my pencil before gravity took over and pulled it against the desk.

The office manager Greg formally announced there had been a death outside the office, a fact we had all been aware of for at least an hour. His statement struck me as a feeble attempt to wrest back a modicum of control over events.

Seeing me sat alone at my desk, Greg took the opportunity to plop himself down opposite and ask how I was doing. It had been clear since our first meeting Greg was attracted to me. With a CV full of unexplained, gaping holes and a less than enthusiastic work ethic, it’s fair to say said attraction had a large part in my being hired and retained.

Greg and men of his ilk appeared under the illusion that talking to women as if we were lost children to be shepherded to safety was the direct route to our hearts. He shook his head and looked pained on mentioning Alice’s name. Whether this was a genuine reaction to Alice’s death or the slow dawning that an entire day’s business would be lost will never be known.

I watched the beads of sweat collecting around his pink forehead, before feeling his hand just below my shoulder. A slight rubbing motion quickly followed. He offered a forced smile and I managed to reciprocate with something similar. When he eventually removed his hand, I noticed my body relax as I finally allowed myself to exhale.

Once the police gave us permission to leave, I decided to walk home through the park for a change. There was a light, misty rain which felt as though it might wash away the claustrophobia which had enveloped me in the office.

As I walked in the fresh air, I noticed myself smiling.

My flatmate Suzi was curious about my early return. She seemed slightly put out by my presence, four hours earlier than usual. I mentioned Alice Grey’s suicide and she politely feigned concern before offering to make me a cup of tea.

*

I awoke from a nap with the sun streaming through the window. I felt disoriented, unsure of whether I’d been sleeping for minutes or hours. I glanced up to see Suzi standing over me, a look of concern on her face.

“You were calling out to someone. I thought it was me, but when I came in the room, I heard you saying Alice.”

I looked out the window unsure of what to make of Suzi’s words. I felt her hand on my shoulder and turned towards her as she was walked out the room. I wasn’t sure what I was feeling, if anything. I felt like calling out to her.

That night I decided to walk back to work. It was late and the only hint of change was police tape cordoning off the entrance to the building. I stood with my hands in my coat pockets surveying the scene. I looked up at the roof, half expecting to see Alice peering back down at me.

A group of teenagers walked past, taunting me in an alien language. I probably looked strange to them, their future a decade hence. I felt the urge to tell them everything, warn them they were in danger, just like Alice and I. I realised attempting any such thing would be futile, so instead I smiled at them, causing a ripple of hysterical laughs as they walked past.

Feeling a shudder of cold I decided to go home.

I found the atmosphere in the office over the coming days unsettling. The slow, but predictable return to normality disturbed me. Long, icy silences broken only by whispers soon gave way to idle chatter and the odd ripple of laughter in reaction to the usual office ‘banter’.

I felt like screaming.

Inconsequential memories of Alice stored away over the previous four years returned to me. Our working in different sections and my avoidance of most of the office social events meant our interaction was minimal. Each day new memories of doors being held open and glances exchanged in the corridor rose up from the deepest recesses of my mind.

I recalled how annoying I found her general countenance. From overhearing some of her conversations around the office, she had struck me as crushingly uninteresting, constantly surrounding herself with others. I remember judging this as a likely attempt to make up for the character she so desperately lacked. I repressed such uncharitable thoughts, telling myself I had no reason to judge another person, let alone one who had recently died.

An email went around giving details of Alice’s funeral service. Greg made it clear anyone affected by the tragic events, or suffering mental health problems should feel comfortable approaching HR. The dark irony of anyone suffering an existential crisis being met by the charmless corporate lackeys Glenda and Mark did not go unnoticed.

As the rest of the office gradually returned to near normality, I felt a growing anxiety both at work and at home. I felt an urge to learn more about Alice Grey and how she came to the decision to end her life as she did. The fact that her suicide had so surprised everyone filled me with intense unease.

I had told myself I wouldn’t go to the funeral. I had even notified Greg of the fact, telling him it would be too difficult less than six months after my father’s death. This was a lie, but Greg was predictably understanding. This time I received a squeeze on the elbow to go with the forced smile.

The night before the funeral was sleepless. My mind and body were tense and alive to something I couldn’t fully perceive. Several times I awoke from strange dreams drenched in sweat. I forced myself to stay awake, until I no was no longer able.

In the morning I found myself seeking out appropriate funeral attire. Suzi asked where I was going and did her best to hide her annoyance upon hearing that I would be home after the service. She gave me a robotic hug, before wishing me good luck.

I nodded and felt sick.

I sat on the bus on the way to the crematorium looking at the people around me. An elderly woman muttered to herself between hacking coughs. A boy absentmindedly kicked the back of the chair in front of him, itself occupied by a tense looking man who kept nervously checking his watch.

I wondered how different these people were to Alice Grey. I also wondered how Alice might have looked on her way to work on the day she took her life. I pushed the thought out of my mind and watched as a man got on the bus and tried to talk his way out of being slightly short of the required fare. He got lucky and without saying a word the driver gestured him to join the glut of humanity squeezed into the main body of the vehicle.

I felt slightly nervous as I approached the crematorium, a building which at one and the same time appeared both fittingly and un-fittingly mundane for a place in which to mark the passing of human life. I felt the immense urge to turn around and be free of the whole thing and Alice Grey forever. I noticed some colleagues, but far fewer than I was expecting. I looked around for Greg but couldn’t spot him. I suspected the huddled sobbing were close family members.

I decided against approaching anyone, preferring to go unnoticed and avoid being drawn into conversation. Instead, I inspected the picture of Alice in the centre of the foyer area. She looked entirely normal. I don’t know why I was expecting otherwise. Everyone who takes their own life looks like everyone else, there’s no way of guessing. The Alice in the picture was neither beautiful nor unattractive, a half smile discernible on her somewhat flat face. She had straight brown hair and her pale face were home to large, almost pleading eyes. Something about her appearance continued to annoy me.

I managed to find a seat at the back of the room in which the service was held and listened to the speeches given by Alice’s family and a couple of friends. Her life, as described by her loved ones, struck me as utterly inconsequential. I wondered if these were honest accounts. Could so little be said for twenty-nine years of human existence?

Following the speeches, we all watched as Alice’s coffin made its way into the cremation chamber, before filing out into the foyer area.

I passed through the crowd and straight outside, where I succumbed to the urge to smoke for the first time in several months. I heard the crunching of feet on the gravel path and looked up to see the vicar approaching.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he said, with a kind, but rehearsed smile offered up to hundreds, if not thousands of mourners over the years.

I forced a smile in return. “Thank you, well I’m just a colleague, well, was a colleague of Alice’s. I didn’t know her very well.”

“Well it’s good of you to come and pay your last respects nonetheless. It’s a terrible tragedy when a young life is cut short,” the vicar said, almost as much to himself as to me.

My lack of response led the vicar to look at me expectantly and continue, “Don’t you think?”

No, I didn’t. But I knew that wasn’t what the vicar, or anyone else wanted to hear.

“Perhaps in her death, Alice achieved something she’d have never been able to in life. Part of me admires her for that.”

The words surprised myself as much as they did the vicar. I looked up to be met by his troubled expression, clearly discomforted by the inference of my words. He offered a slight nod and quickly turned back towards the entrance of the church as I exhaled the last of my cigarette and left.

I didn’t feel like waiting for a bus, so walked across town. The sun had come out and I enjoyed its warm radiance against my pale skin. As ever, the coming of spring felt like a new beginning, even if each passing year brought what, deep down, felt like less opportunities than the last.

I looked at the people I passed, their existence shaped by forces largely unknown to them and over which they had little control. With the end of her life, Alice Grey had eschewed the predictability which shaped most peoples’ lives. She had momentarily pushed back against nothingness, before being accepted back into it.

It was more than could be said for most, including myself up until her death.

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My Top Posts in 2021

#5

What’s up buttercup? L.N

Requested

"Dude, I just can't get her out of my head. I don't think I want to. All I want is to give her everything she's ever wanted." Lando mumbled, waiting for the familiar intro to Warzone to fade from the large screen in front of him. Max couldn't help but roll his eyes at his friend, Y/N and Lando had been a long time coming and Max was ecstatic that the longing lustful looks could finally be coming to an end. Don’t get it confused Max loved the pair but if he had to see the McLaren Driver he called his best friend stare wantingly at the y/h/c girl one more time he’d pull his hair out. "Yeah, sounds like you love her, mate." Max replied matter-of-factly sympathy seeping through his usually playful tone. 

"...Maybe I do." Lando agreed quietly, a soft smile finding its home on his tan face. Even just thinking about his childhood friend caused his heart to palpitate and his palms to sweat. The y/h/c girl had carved a special place in his soul just for her, she’d entwined herself with him from day one. Back when Y/N towered over him and beat him on the kart track more then he’d like to admit. 

“What’s up buttercup?” the y/h/c girl exclaimed loudly launching herself over the sofa the two boy’s occupied. “See I didn’t get an invite to the Mother’s meeting.” Y/N teased elbowing the suddenly silent Driver. “What have you done now Fewtrell… he’s broken.” Y/N muttered accusingly pouting at her lightly bearded flatmate. “Lando’s love life is depressing enough Y/N/N didn’t need you involved” Max shrugged the y/h woman off. Whipping around to face the F1 Driver jaw dropped Y/N gasped. “Little Lando’s growing up… well emotionally.” Y/N laughed, throwing her arms around the tanned man. 

Groaning in response Lando placed his controller down before gently removing Y/N’s y/s/c limbs from his shoulders delicately placing them in his lap, lacing his fingers with hers. Even just touching the young girl caused his heart to flutter Lando just hoped he didn’t look stupid. “So who’s the lucky girl?” Y/N interrogated the man, shooting him an excited grin. At least Y/N hoped it appeared that way, truth be told the y/h girl had overheard the two boy’s conversation before her rather dramatic entrance and it had hurt a little. Karma for eavesdropping maybe? Silence fell over the trio; it wasn't uncomfortable, just had a layer of awkwardness hidden under the surface. Fiddling with the girl's fingers Lando sent Max a frantic stare, his stormy azure eyes begging to be rescued. Imploring to be saved from the growing tension. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you're uncomfortable, Lando.” Y/N whispered hesitantly, removing her hand from his quickly. “I should leave you to it… Promised Dan I'd pop into his stream earlier.” the y/h/c girl stated wearily scrambling to the door of the sitting room. It soon became clear to the otherwise oblivious boys that Y/N was hurt, they couldn’t blame her, they used to share everything and now it probably seemed like they were keeping her out of the loop on purpose. 

Taking a deep breath Lando followed the girl quickly reaching out for her before she could slink upstairs and hide in her room. “It’s you Y/N/N” Lando confessed breathlessly, running a hand over his face in embarrassment. Three simple words and he could have ruined years of friendship. Could have? Who was he kidding? He definitely just ruined their relationship. “What?” Y/N choked out her y/e/c orbs wide at the Drivers revelation. “It’s always been you.” Lando mumbled pathetically cringing at how dumb he sounded. “Oh my God just kiss her you muppet!” Max groaned loudly from the sofa, throwing his head back in annoyance.

216 notes • Posted 2021-11-15 18:36:35 GMT

#4

The world | M.V

The warm early morning Monaco sunlight eased the y/h/c girl out of her dream. The sunbeams that had managed its way through the cracks in the curtains like a gentle hand making it’s path over her y/s/c face. It wasn’t until Y/N felt a limb that wasn’t hers grip her waist securely did she remember. For the first time in what felt like forever she wasn’t waking up alone. Turning over the y/h/c girl gently removed the pale arm that restrained her, a grin settling on her delicate features. He looked so peaceful, almost angelic, his eyebrows not in their usual furrowed state. Sighing happily Y/N debated whether to get up and start the day or just embrace the warm body next to her. Spotting her camera on the bedside table the young woman couldn’t help but giggle lowly to herself, her mind already set on her next action.

“What are you doing prinses?” The male finally spoke sleepily, his ocean eyes refusing to greet the girl. Ignoring the man's question Y/N continued positioning herself to get the perfect angle. Unhappy at the lack of response Max’s pale hands made their way up the girls thighs lightly digging in. “Max stop moving!” Y/N whispered lazily, swatting at the hands that had made their home on her y/s/c legs. Cracking his eyes open Max couldn’t help the chuckle that vibrated from his chest, he’d woken up to Y/N in plenty of precarious positions but straddling him with her camera in her hands was definitely a new one. “Make sure to get my good side” the Dutchman teased, pulling a small face before returning to his usual small smile. There were only a few things that could crack a genuine smile from the young man getting a place on the podium, seeing his mother and sister after weeks apart and her.

She looked beautiful. In fact Max would argue that she’s never looked more desirable, her hair still messy from their late night activities with an old red bull shirt almost swallowing her figure. Max used to think it was a shame she hid her amazing body from him even if it was only for the five hours of sleep they’d aim to get but now he loved seeing her relaxed and content. Carefree looked good on her.

“I want to remember every detail before you leave again.” Y/N shrugged, having placed her camera aside and begun running her fingers through her boyfriend's light brown locks. She hadn’t meant for her statement to sound so depressing but they both knew it was true before long Max would be packing his bags to fly miles away for yet another race. “Why don’t you come with me schatje?” Max mumbled hoping maybe this time he could convince Y/N to join him. Sighing, the girl pulled her fingers away leaning back putting her weight on her heels “You know I can’t Maxie… I have work and responsibilities here.”

“What about my responsibility to show you how much you mean to me. To be able to show the world how much I love you. To be able to go out on that track and know that my girl is watching me from the side. That no matter what happens whether it’s good or bad she’ll be there waiting for me.” Max declared stubbornly, almost pouting like a child. “Would it really mean that much to you?” Y/N quizzed already knowing the answer her y/e/c orbs drinking in the man below her. “It would mean the world.”

229 notes • Posted 2021-08-11 21:50:01 GMT

#3

Quadrant Family L.N

“This is what I used to do with pregnant women.” Jon stated after adjusting the workout for Niran yet again. “Y/N does it all the time” the older man continued nonchalantly not realising what he’d just implied. “You’re pregnant?” Niran jokingly asked his friend, suddenly forgetting the YouTube video currently being recorded. “Yeah, 12 weeks.” Y/N nodded a small smile finding a home on her face. A baby may have not been in her and Lando’s five year plan but the pair couldn’t be happier. In fact as soon as the pair saw the positive test they’d been ecstatic. 

“You can edit that out right?!” the y/h girl asked suddenly panicked. “Yeah why?” Niran asked, adjusting himself on the mat, sitting up to shoot his younger friend a worried look. “Might not be a good idea to tell the Quadrant family before I tell my dad” The young female said hesitantly, awkwardly picking at her jumper sleeve, already imagining the phone call she’d definitely receive. If there’s one thing she’d like to avoid like the plague it was a lecture from her Dad. Even though she’d moved away from the family home back in Oxford her Father still hadn’t really accepted the fact that his little girl had grown up. 

“You haven't told your Father!” Jon spluttered, pausing his movements the weights for the next exercise long forgotten. “I didn’t want him to get stressed” the y/e/c eyed girl weakly responded anxiously running a hand through her y/h/c locks. 

“Y/N his baby is having a baby he’s going to have a heart attack!!” Jon exclaimed loudly continuing  to rant all the colour draining from his face. Scoffing Y/N pulled a face at the older man practically pacing in fright. “You think I don’t know that! He almost passed out when he found out I was dating a racing driver… and then when he found out it wasn’t a Red Bull driver I thought he’d had a bloody aneurysm.” Y/n muttered ignoring the stern glare she was receiving from the anxiously striding older male. “Why’s no one having a go at Lando last time I checked it takes two to make a baby!” Y/N shouted, throwing her arms wildly in the direction of the McLaren driver practically wetting himself from laughing. 

“Maybe because I’m not related to Christian Horner…” Lando scoffed a boyish grin settling on his tan features but quickly dropped it once he noticed Y/N’s stern face. “Maybe I should just shut up…” Lando trailed off embarrassment clear on his face. Nodding sarcastically Y/N replied “You think?” sending the Brit a middle finger before walking back into the house ignoring Lando’s pleads and attempts to apologise. 

259 notes • Posted 2021-11-06 18:28:53 GMT

#2

Who’s the baby daddy? M.V

The busy sounds of the packed paddock brought Y/N a sense of relief, it had been a while since the smell of burnt rubber and motor oil filled her nostrils and she wasn’t ashamed to admit she’d missed it. The half hidden sun felt good on her y/s/c arms after the somewhat depressing weather of London, even though the weather reports had speculated rain the heavens were yet to open and turn the track a dark charcoal. “So who's the baby daddy?” The voice that interrupted her could only belong to one person brave enough to wake the y/h/c woman from her thoughts. Turning on her heel Y/N debated hitting the man for scaring her slightly or to embrace him, it had been a while since she’d seen the Dutchman. “Well it’s not yours is it Max so I don’t see how it’s any of your business?!” Y/N teased a faux look of anger filling her delicate features. Shrugging the usually austere man smirked, “I don’t know it could be.” He retaliated. “You may be my Father’s golden boy Verstappen but if you even looked at me funny he’d castrate you and then fire you.” Y/N argued ignoring the odd looks her statement had received. “It’s been boring without you here Y/N/N” Max revealed readjusting his famous Red Bull cap it was a nervous habit he’d picked up a few years ago and no matter how much he tried to stop he couldn’t. “Yeah well I had to give Dad some time to digest this.” Y/N explained gesturing to her very prominent baby bump. “He nearly had a heart attack when I told him.” Y/N continued her face lighting up at the memory of her usually stern Father spluttering at her announcement. 

Christian Horner had always been somewhat resentful at the fact that his firstborn was no longer a little girl who thought boys were gross and told him everything. “You know Christian he probably wants to kill whoever's responsible.” Max shrugged, his stormy eyes noticing how the girl tensed at his statement. “Does he know who’s responsible?” the male asked gently but the pair both knew the subtle message hidden in the question. Shaking her head Y/N ran a hand through her y/h/c locks the frustration at the question already building. Don’t get me wrong she wasn’t enjoying dodging the question in fact she wanted to scream it from the rooftops but something within her stopped her every time. It’s not like the Father had been committed to her in fact she was 100% sure she was just another conquest to him. Just a girl he’d managed to trick into his bed after the Monaco GP. 

“It’s not like I need him Max.” Y/N mumbled, suddenly finding the ground very interesting, cursing the fact that the hormones currently flooding her body made her cry like all the time. “Let me take you to hospitality.” Max offered awkwardly gently resting a large hand on the girl's shoulder discreetly looking around to see if anyone had noticed the crying Horner and if they did he hoped they knew he wasn’t responsible for the tears currently cascading down her face. He didn’t mind people thinking he was a dick, in fact the haters only spurred him on, they gave him the motivation to succeed but even he didn’t want to be known as the man who makes women cry. Hurriedly wiping her face Y/N frowned “Don’t you need to talk to the team or something? I’m sure i can find it by myself, it's not my first race weekend Verstappen.” Y/N joked her tone was uneven due to the small outburst. “They can wait.” the Dutchman insisted quickly brushing a rogue tear away from his friend's face. 

Guiding the younger woman tenderly Max couldn’t help but ponder the identity of Y/N’s mystery man and Father-to-be. “So Monaco huh?” Silently Max cringed at how blunt that sounded especially when he felt Y/N stop for a second. Max could have kicked himself sometimes he really did fail to filter his thoughts. “Does that mean he’s a driver?” Max stumbled through the sentence quietly. Rolling her y/e/c orbs Y/N sighed she loved Max with all her heart but sometimes he really could be so stupid. “You know he is Max.”

A/N I don’t know if I’m going to leave it like this or make multiple endings with different drivers so you can choose?

265 notes • Posted 2021-10-04 18:09:59 GMT

#1

Caught in the act L.N

“Lando stop moving, I'll get it in your hair otherwise.” the y/h/c girl threaten playfully pausing her action to shoot a small glare at the McLaren Driver. “It’s cold.” Lando whined in response, pulling away from the girl’s gentle grasp on his face. “The sooner you sit still the sooner it will be over.” Y/N reassured, fighting the urge to roll her y/e/c orbs at the man's actions you’d think he’d be used to it by now. “Fine, just seriously don’t get any in my hair.” Lando replied, sticking his tongue out at the girl before bursting into a fit of giggles. 

“Oi Norris open up I want that hoodie!” Max yelled banging on the door causing the young pair to jump. “DON’T COME IN!” Lando called out a look of pure panic filling his tan face. “Why? You fucking?” Max snickered to himself still banging on the bedroom door. Smacking Y/N’s y/s/c arm frantically Lando gestured at the makeup wipes on the bedside table. “I’m coming in, you better be decent.” the Englishman on the other side of the door declared clumsily opening the door eyes tightly shut. “Fewtrell just open your eyes.” Y/N groaned pausing the tv show the couple had on as background noise. “Is it safe?” Max questioned the girl hesitantly, blindly turning to face the direction her familiar voice had come from. “Yes.” Y/N scoffed ignoring the pointed glare from her boyfriend. 

“Oh my God… what are you doing!” Max asked, stunned at the scene in front of him. There Lando sat bashfully donned in a pair of sweats and wearing an avocado green facemask. “Skin care..” Lando mumbled nibbling on his lower lip in anxiety. Blinking rapidly Max nodded, taking a second to absorb the sight. “What did you want Max?” Y/N asked kindly, the silence between the two boys getting ridiculous, honestly you’d think Max had walked in on some really weird freaky shit. Breaking his trance the man readjusted his glasses “the black hoodie with the red on it.” Max explained miming pulling at the strings of a hoodie. “I think… I think that’s my hoodie.” Y/N replied, gathering her y/h/c locks and tying it up.  Scratching his face in confusion the male frowned “but it’s massive?” 

Y/N shrugged at his statement. “I just like oversized stuff, it's not a crime.” the girl stated teasingly. Humming Max nodded “Explains why you like that oversized baby.” he declared pointing at Lando sat on the bed no longer embarrassed at being caught having a spa evening. “I’ve had a very stressful season and I want to look good for that Quadrant video coming up.” Lando sighed dramatically slumping against the pillows. “I thought you said you weren’t a diva?” Y/N argued, referencing Lando’s interview with Pato O'Ward during the Mexican Grand Prix, stifling a giggle at the Driver's unamused face. “Did you want to join us Maxie?” Y/N offered noticing the other man still stood at the doorway. “Yes please…”

281 notes • Posted 2021-11-09 22:49:24 GMT

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