#and a man whos competed for championships

[bvtbxtch]

Don't it Make You Feel | E.M x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: The state championships for the battle of the bands brings in new opportunities for your Fort Wayne band Head Case. Things flip on their head when you meet who you'll be competing against...

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Series Warnings: NSFW! Minors DNI!, Smut, Fluff, Angst (would it be a bvtbxtch fanfic without all three?), mentions of abusive relationships, p in v sex, oral sex, kissing, cuddling, violence, mention of drugs and alcohol, being drunk, romance under the influence. By clicking the read more, you are confirming you are over the age of 18!

Word Count: ~ 7250

Author's Note: Hello everyone! It has been a while since I have posted and I have taken a much needed little hiatus. I am so happy to be back and I have been cooking this fanfic for a while! I heard the song Don't It Make You Feel by Chilliwack and my brain kind of short circuited around how much I love this song, and the rest kind of fell into place!

The large van that you piled into was practically sparking with all of the energy radiating through it. You had taken this sleepy route several times before, the flatlands and farms seeming so miniscule now. You could all feel it. This was your break to get out of Northern Indiana and make a new life for yourselves, there was only one band that stood in the way. You clutched the flyer with your band and their band name in big font. The word final in the center of the page, in big block letters felt so - well, final. There was an urgency about them. You and the boys bounced down the highway in your guitarist’s beaten up, overfilled van. You had all made a mixtape for the adventure, and it sent you flying down the I-69. But none of you felt that you could get to the Whiskey Barrel Bar fast enough. You looked out the window and dreamed of singing in the luxe studio of Round Table Records, the radio signals buzzing in your brain. 

The sun was quickly setting, unlike your determination. The bar was dimly lit with whatever spotlights the dive bar could find. You unpacked your equipment and started your sound check, your heart dropping at every open door, anticipating the meeting between the band you were dueling. You knew that it would be a fierce fight, that if they wanted this even half of what you and the band did, you were going to have to bring your A game.

Your sound check went great, guitars wailing, kicks of the drums setting the pace of your own heartbeat. Your voice had the bar techs raising their eyebrows and bobbing their heads. If there weren’t any more unknowns, you would feel unstoppable; but the question marks over who this ‘Corroded Coffin’ was made you uneasy. 

The posse of bandmates found their way back to the greenroom - if you could call it that. You grabbed your fanny pack and pulled out a bright pink bullet of lipstick, your eyeliner pencil, and a lighter. You leaned into the dingy mirror as you warmed your eyeliner up over the lighter. You pressed the softening kohl to your waterline, smoking out your bright eyes.

“Hey doll, can I borrow that light?” Joey, your bassist, smiled with a cigarette pressed between his teeth. His large frame teetered over you as you leaned up to light his smoke. Suddenly, the door flew open and four mops of hair strutted into the room. 

“Well, well, well. Guess this is our fresh meat…” One man with luscious brown curls sneered. He was tall, pale, and covered with tattoos. His tone was ruthless, but there was a sparkle in his eyes. The rest of his gaggle followed behind him, snickering back at your band in the room. You grimaced at the attempt to intimidate and you rolled your eyes at Joey. He gave you a pat on the shoulder and turned to the man who invaded your space.

“You guys must be Corroded Coffin. I’m Joey, I’m bass.” He held out his hand for the man to shake  “That’s Owen. He’s on drums, and Dave and Jake over there are our guitars. This is-” Joey was cut off before you could step forward with a curt wave. 

“I don’t need to know who your roadie is, tool.” The man puffed his chest out and pressed into Joey’s outstretched hand. “Listen. We don’t need to know who you are, and you don’t need to know us. All you need to know is Corroded Coffin will be the band that kicks your sorry ass back to wherever you came from, got it?” His words shot through the room like knives, instantly raising the tension of everyone there. Joey backed off but you couldn’t help but snort at the mystery in front of you; suddenly all pairs of eyes in the room were on you. The dusty blond haired guy looked to his leader with worry, the larger man, with short curled hair shifted his eyes between their friendly looking fourth and the man squared up in front of your bassist. The last member of the band had a beautiful dark complexion and a friendly face - He looked like the least likely person in the room to want to start a fight. Joey retreated to the ripped leather couch the remaining three members of your band settled around. The man’s combat boots stomped closer to you. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize I asked for your opinion, babe.” He smelled intoxicatingly of whiskey, weed and smokey cologne. You bit your lip to prevent you from straight punching him in the face. “This is a band issue��� why are you even back here? Don’t you have some beers to grab?” That was it. You pushed yourself away from the mirror and into the snarling man’s space. “This is our house, our rules. You’re lucky you’ve stayed back here so long.”

“Oh. I get it. You’re gonna go after the people you don’t even know to try and intimidate. Jeez guys” you turned to your boys staring helplessly at you, a silent plea to let it go. “Sounds like someone is trying to overcompensate for something.” You looked the man up and down, taking an extra moment at his hips. When you met back with his face, you could see bright red cheeks and a furious furrow in his fluffy brows. His breath was heavy, almost blowing the hair off your collar bone with how close the two of you were. Joey rose from his seat and took a few steps toward you, you waved him off and he froze in place.

“Now let’s get something straight. We have every right to be here. I have every right to be here. So are we gonna get along nicely, or keep huffing and puffing like oafs?” You looked past the blubbering man in front of you to the rest of his stunned bandmates. 

“Whatever.” The mess of hair turned to Joey. “Get your bitch under control.” His eyes bore into you. As angry as they were, there was a curiosity, and eagerness to know more about you. Before you could wind back to slap his smug face silly, Joey’s strong arms had grabbed your waist and pulled you back. Another shit eating grin came from the man donned in a battle jacket and tight ripped denim. He retreated back to his band on the side of the green room he had claimed as his. He couldn’t help, however, to glue his eyes to where Joey touched you. He soothingly rubbed up and down your arms and led you to the couch with a hand on your lower back. When you sat, he rubbed a hand on your knee. You caught his eye with an icy, daring stare. Before he had time to react, a large man in dark clothing burst into the room.

“Eddie, you guys are on.”

“Well, kids. I would say it’s been fun, but my Uncle told me it's a sin to lie so…” With a showboaty bow, this so-called Eddie bounced out of the room, followed by the rest of his bandmates.

“Come on,” you hopped up and checked your reflection one more time. “We should watch this”. With a groan and head shakes, the rest of your band followed suit. 

-

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Finale of this year’s Indiana Battle of the Bands!” the host boomed. “We are stoked to have the top two contenders in the state - our Southern finalists, Corroded Coffin,” the bar roared with applause. “And our Northern finalists, all the way from Fort Wayne, Head Case!” There was a polite enough applause for your band, but you knew you were the underdogs, away from home, and eager to win the house over. 

“These two bands will be competing for the grand prize of a recording session with Indianapolis’ very own Round Table Records to produce their very own song! They will also get to feature their song to a panel of Label Executives from around the country and get a segment on Q 95 FM!” Your heart pushed its beat into your throat. 

“Up first, we have Hawkins’ very own Corroded Coffin!” The host ran off the stage and the lights dimmed. You saw the shadowy figures of the boys you met in the dressing room slither onto the stage. The thrum of the bass and kick of the drums made vibrations run up your feet. The lights flickered on to reveal the arrogant sack of shit strumming his guitar like he was making love to it. The familiar riff of For Whom the Bell Tolls.

 You can’t deny, the man has charisma. He excites the crowd, feeds them what they want and then takes it away. He gets down on his knees and throws his shirt at the desperate girls waiting to get at him after the set. His glistening chest is as pale as his face, with galaxies of unreadable tattoos dance across his skin as he moves. His guitar is an extension of him, when he strikes chords, his whole body reacts. His eyes searched the small sea of people who have joined in the mosh and locked eyes with yours. He strutted his way to the other side of the stage where you and your bandmates stood, arms crossed over your chest. A few thrusts of his hips in your direction, as well as a tongue wag and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He laughed as he returned to his microphone to complete the chorus.

“Let’s go,” you whispered to Dave. “We gotta get ready to go up.”

You felt slightly humiliated going up after the tsunami of applause Corroded Coffin received. Luckily, Eddie and his gang jumped right off the stage to the bar, into the arms of waiting women and men wanting to buy them drinks. You didn’t have to deal with any last minute intimidation efforts. You locked in and hugged your boys as the host boomed over the mic. 

“And lastly, our finalists up north, give it up for Head Case!”

-

Eddie sat smug at the bar. Confident the four losers that he had seen in the green room were no match for the absolute sex Corroded Coffin just had with the audience. He turned his back to the stage and faced Gareth, Jeff and Doug with a smug grin, and signaled to the gruff looking barback to get them a round of beers; A celebration, albeit premature, they thought they all deserved. Their faces grew pale with shock, and Eddie choked on his mouthful of beer when your band played their first note. 

You stumbled over snakes of wires and to the dimmed front of the stage. The tech’s stood at the ready to light your bodies. Your sweaty hands gripped the microphone on its stand, emitting a small whine. You looked back and gave a jittery nod and with that, a flourish of drums started, you let out an excited yell into the microphone, the rest felt like a sweaty, loud, heart pumping blur.

Eddie spun wildly around in his seat when he heard you. His gaze transfixed in bewilderment on your figure positioned where he just was. You looked nervous, but still confident. How the fuck did you do that? He felt his face grow hot and the stares of Gareth, Jeff and Doug shifted between him and the stage. It took you to the chorus to really get comfortable, but the audience were still eating you up. You bent down and grabbed hands and sent winks and serenades throughout the crowd. He never won anyone over that easily. 

“If I didn’t know you better, Munson. I would say you’re getting jealous.” Jeff teased, with a pat on the shoulder. Eddie shluffed him off with a grunt and continued to loathingly watch you. 

“Fuck, she’s a natural…” Every ounce of post-gig confidence he had dissolved with Gareth’s comment. They were in trouble.

“Please,” Eddie turned back to the bar and stared into the bottom of his beer bottle. He gestured for one more. He turned back around, nursing his new beverage, to see you crawling on the floor, soaking up all the shouts and hollers everyone was giving you. Your hair had grown stringy, and your skin glowy with sweat. You hopped up off the floor and sauntered over to your bassist. Eddie snorted as you rolled your hips against his wide stance. You plucked at the chords he was to be playing. Eddie would never let someone - especially someone like you - touch his guitar. You were doing this all for show, to distract from…. Fuck, he couldn’t even say subpar music… He hated to admit it, but you were really good. He flipped his curly head back to the bartender.

“Two whiskeys, Del.” He winked. He gritted his teeth and muttered under his breath, “We’re gonna fucking need them.”

You were vibrating with adrenaline. The past 3 and a half minutes seemed to last for hours, and mere seconds at the same time. Your chest was heaving as your band shuttled each other off the stage. Electric current danced across your skin as you congratulated your bandmates and waited, in frazzled anticipation, for the MC to retake the stage. A manicured nail tapped you on the shoulder. You turned to see one of the barbacks with a tray of shots in her hand. 

“Courtesy of the boys at the bar” she purred. You peeked past the tattered excuse for a curtain that separated offstage from on, to see Eddie sprawled out on his barstool. He lifted his glass to you, shit eating grin never leaving his face. You rolled your eyes and turned back to your boys, who had happily accepted the shots, and picked your tiny glass off the woman’s tray. The amber liquid burned down your throat. You grimaced away the urge to spit the liquid back out and shot a wincing smile at Joey. He wrapped his arms around you with a giggle. Nothing could break your excitement - or so you thought. 

“Wow… quite the… show you put on out there.” Eddie’s sneering voice made yours and Joey's giggles mute. You broke away from his embrace. 

“Told you I wasn’t a groupie.” You challenged. Eddie couldn’t help but let his eyes rake over your glistening body. Your chest still heaved with excitement. The valley between your breasts shone with extra sweat, your tank top just hiding your bra from view. Your legs were elongated by the tattered shorts and combat boots you wore, tattoos littering your arms and thighs. He couldn’t help but wonder what other ink you had that he couldn’t see. He knew he wasn’t being discreet, but would only blame the beers and whiskeys he had already consumed. You flashed him a disgusted look, which brought him back down to reality. 

“Thought I would bring you one more consolation shot before we send your sorry asses back North.” Eddie’s chortle rattled in your chest. He shoved another small glass into your hands.

“Here’s to being the best frontmen of Indiana.” His eyes swallowed you whole as you rolled yours at him. 

“Whatever Eddie, you’re just being nice so it doesn’t hurt so bad when you lose.” You slammed the shot down and handed him back the empty glass. You whipped yourself back around to your waiting bandmates. Eddie stood dumbfounded, left to retreat to the other men standing behind him, donning matching faces. 

The speakers squealed and the crowds hushed as the MC took his place on stage. The only thing you could hear was your pounding heartbeat in your ears. The mic boomed the winners of the competition, then Head Case’s name was called and everything in your body went numb. The following moments will always be a blur - Ironically, they will be moments Eddie Munson will never forget. Your smile nearly split your face in half. The boys jumped around you and you all rushed the stage. Corroded Coffin clapped politely, but you could feel a shiver of cold run down your spine while Eddie directed his jealous energy solely on you. Joey grabbed your waist and brought you in for a chaste kiss on the cheek. You swore, even over all of the cheering, you could hear Eddie Munson scoff. You turned to him and your grin faltered slightly. You pushed yourself away from your boys and to the microphone perched on the stand. You grabbed the mic and cleared your raspy throat. 

“Thank you all, so much! But let’s give a hand to Corroded Coffin!” You looked over to the wings where the rival band stood in surprise. You waved them on with an encouraging flail of your hand. All of the boys shrugged and with a laugh took the stage - All but one…

Eddie took the stage like a man on a mission. His eyes were burning with rage. You and your band shook hands with the three members of Corroded Coffin. Eddie pushed his way up to you, and you stood almost chest to chest, his aura was intoxicating to you. You gulped, your throat suddenly dry. You flashed him a sorry smile and stuck your hand out. 

“Good job, Eddie. You guys sounded awesome.” Eddie’s face didn’t move. He stayed cold and his chest heaved. 

“You won this round, sweetheart. But let’s be honest here. You won’t last a second in the industry. You’ll have to do a lot of favors to get your music out there. Just like you did to score your musicians.” Your face bloomed bright red and your eyes glazed over. You wanted to run away, to leave the stage and sit in the back of the van and cry until you got home. But this was your win. This was your moment. You willed the tears back into your eyes, jutted your hand out towards his and stared straight into Eddie’s dark brown doe eyes.

“Anything else you wanna say, Eddie? Or can I go back to celebrating with my band now?” You stood, unmoving. It was his turn to turn red. His cheeks flushed pink and his eyes smoldered with loathing. He turned away from you, leaving your hand outstretched waiting to greet him. 

-

Eddie could barely look at you. Fuck, he didn’t even want to be in the goddamn building anymore - he heard the burly MC call your band’s name and not his and he just saw red. What, did you win because you were one of the only female-led acts in the whole competition? God, it had to have been. Fuck you and your charm and talent. It didn’t help that you were trying to be nice too. It would have been so much easier to hate you if you were just an asshole. But of course you weren’t. You were too nice for your own good, but you put him in his place. Your smile on the stage was as intoxicating as the shot he had just taken. Your smooth voice oozed charisma - it was sickly sweet and Eddie hated that he wanted to hear it in the confines of his own bedroom. He heard you get loud, but what your voice would sound like whispering in his ear, what your small moans would sound like as he - 

He needed to get out of here. This was all too much. Your stubbornness, your determination threw him. He was angry and he said things he immediately regretted because he was insecure.  He couldn’t be on stage with you, let alone act nicely to you. He made a beeline for the back door exit. The boys could celebrate without him. Eddie kept his head down, his mouth fumbling with the cigarette from behind his ear pressed between his lips. His head ran into a strong chest with an ‘oof’.

“Hey, what the fuck man. Watch where you’re going.”

“Rough night, Munson?” The smooth bass voice made Eddie swivel his head up in wonder. An older man, in his mid to late 50’s stood. His salt-and-pepper hair had been slicked back neatly. He had on an oversized leather blazer, matched with a dark t-shirt and dark cowboy boots. The man smelled of expensive Whiskey and money. Eddie straightened up and pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and tucked it back behind his ear.

“You’re-”

“Yeah, don’t get your dick in a twist about it” The man chuckled. The force that stood before measly Eddie Munson was Richard Beaucanon - owner and operator of Round Table Records, the man who was supposed to make Corroded Coffin’s dreams come true. He had about half of the record execs and radio hosts on the East Coast in his pocket. He laid a large hand on Eddie’s shoulder and the boy flinched. 

“You can’t be leaving yet, your bandmates are gonna miss you.”

“No they won’t-”

“Are you seriously throwing a fucking temper tantrum because you didn’t win? Because a little girl went to shake your hand and didn’t take your shit?” Eddie was pinned under Richard’s gaze. He was stuck for words. Barely a squeak left his mouth before Richard continued on. “It would be too bad too. Because I was so impressed with the talent I saw today, I wanted to reward both bands with a little something. But I’m not going to do that with a partial band standing up on the stage. So quit your fucking moping because you got beat by some bitch and her pets from up north.” His words gave Eddie a nervous cramp in his stomach. He was quick to call you any name under the sun, but he felt an urge to protect you from the man’s words. Richard sent a hard slap to Eddie’s back and glided towards the backstage area. Eddie punched the concrete wall in front of him and headed to the dingy bar floor to meet back up with the rest of the band - who, unbeknownst to them, were in for a far bigger treat than getting a shoutout from some stupid band up north - led by some stupidly beautiful, kind, sharp girl. Fuck Head Case. 

You jumped off the stage with the rest of your band and Corroded Coffin, absolutely horrified from the encounter you and Eddie had on stage. You didn’t let anyone else in the band know the devastation that happened on stage between you and the other lead singer. Joey kissed the top of your head before heading towards the bar. You stopped to thank your ex-rivals-turned-friends. 

“We didn’t get to properly introduce ourselves on stage.” You shouted over the calamity of the bar. You introduced yourself with a handshake to the three boys standing in front of you with a chuckle. The blonde mop headed drummer came forward first. 

“I’m Gareth” he smiled at you. “This is Jeff, and Doug” you happily took their hands again, but pulled each of them into a hug. As you pulled away from Doug, you were met with the towering, lanky brunette, whose eyes were boring into you. 

“And, of course, you met Eddie.” Gareth offered coldly. 

“Sure did,” Eddie mumbled. “But I need to talk to my band though, so if you don’t mind-” Before Eddie could turn away you found the courage to confront him for his stunt on stage. It was now or never.

“What is your deal, Eddie? Are you that much of a fucking pussy that when you get beat you go all ‘I hate women’? That’s very elementary of you. It’s so interesting. I’ve read a lot about Corroded Coffin and you specifically. The whole ride down here, I was so nervous to meet you, to compete against you, but you’re not scary or intimidating. Hell, to have this much of an attitude, you have to be pretty fucking talented… and I don’t think you’re good enough for this ego you have.” Without letting Eddie speak, you turned on your heel back to the boys standing, slack jawed and left them with a sincere smile and an invitation to come grab shots with you any time. Eddie couldn’t help but watch your hips sway while you walked into the arms of your other bandmates. Fuck, he wanted to punch that Joey guy out. He handed you a shot, and Eddie could see the hunger in his eyes as he watched you tip your head back to shoot back the clear liquor that you were given. 

“Way to fucking go, Eddie.” Jeff hit his chest. It shook Eddie out of his trance and looked at his bandmates with fiery eyes. He changed the subject before he could think too much about how much of a dick he was.

“Yeah, way to go Eddie. Because guess who the fuck I ran into?” He was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. The men looked at him quizzically. Before he could answer, the stage lights returned to highlight Richard Beaucanon on stage. Eddie shook his bandmates and pulled them towards the stage. Richard looked like a marble statue, strong, authoritative, exactly where he needed to be. Eddie quickly turned to sneak a peek at your surprised face. Your perfect lips were formed into an ‘oh’ and your eyes were bright. You knew who he was. 

“Sorry to interrupt the party, folks,” Richard’s voice soared through the venue. “But I have some things to announce. I’m Richard Beaucanon, the owner and founder of Round Table Records here in Indianapolis. I came down tonight because I happened to catch wind of these two talented bands through respective DJs in Hawkins and Fort Wayne. I think I can say for the whole room, we certainly got a great show tonight!” the crowd hollered. You clapped excitedly. Joey and Owen on either side of you, bumping shoulders and holding your hands. You never thought that the Richard Beaucanon would be here - hell even if you won, you doubted he would ever hear your band play. But there he was. “My sincerest congratulations to Head Case for their amazing performance tonight. But I want to congratulate Corroded Coffin as well.” You felt your heart sink to your feet. You were happy for all of the new friends you had made, but Eddie. How can someone so vile get rewarded for such shitty behavior? “I am signing Corroded Coffin to a 2 album deal, as well as the chance to work in the studio for a jam session with the industry’s hottest producers. We got some talent on our hands, y’all!”

You felt your body go numb for the second time tonight. You watched in frustration as the band took the stage to shake hands with the owner of your record label. You pulled yourself away from your bandmates and over to a lonely corner of the bar. You raised your hand for a shot of whatever the hell the bartender could get in your hand fast enough. You needed to think. You needed to think - or maybe not think. The only thing you could think of is numbing this confusion. You sat and ordered two more before Joey came to your side. 

“What you doing, honey? We should be celebrating together!” He squeezed your thigh and his touch felt like poison. You crossed your leg over the other to pull his hand off of yours. 

“I just feel like we were bulldozed. Like what’s the point if we both won? Where’s our special treatment? This feels a lot like home field advantage.” You scowled into your empty shot glass. You raised your hand for another, but Joey signaled to the bartender to cut you off. You whined at him. He got off the stool and spun you towards his body. He also reeked of alcohol - as he should - you thought - they have a right to celebrate; they weren’t the ones that were bullied by a man that’s now getting everything he wanted. Joey’s hands rested on your shoulders. 

“Come on, babe, this is supposed to be our night!” You shrugged Joey off.

“I know, Joe. I just need some time alone to process.” He sighed, disappointed that you weren’t entertaining his advances.

“And that Eddie-”

“Nevermind about him,” you snapped at the man in front of you, mouth shut in rejection. “I can handle him - We can handle him. I just, I just need some time to think, please, Joe.”

“We just wanna celebrate with you, Y/N. Come find us when you’re ready, and maybe drink some water.” God, Joey could be touchy. 

Eddie watched you retreat into yourself in the corner of the bar. He had consumed shots after shots after beer, after whiskey cokes, and between each new beverage, his eyes trained back to you; secretly hoping that someone would come up and save you - but also wishing no one would so he could be the one to come whisk you away. He was conflicted, and angry, but entranced by you. The alcohol was making him lose his composure.

“Why the fuck is she there all by herself?” Eddie slurred into Gareth’s ear. “Like where the fuck is her band?” he chided. 

“I don’t know dude. Why the hell do you care? You were a complete ass to her.” Gareth scolded. Eddie waved his friend’s words away from him like smoke blown in his face.

“She’s like the only talented one in their band. Too bad she’s a pain in my ass and she fucking hates me” he chuckled. “She could do better.”

“Yeah, better than you even!” Jeff added. “Go talk to her then, if you’re so worried. Or are you scared you’re gonna come back with third degree burns like last time?” Eddie shrugged them off, downed his drink and shuffled his way over to where you were sitting. 

-

The bar was starting to spin in circles. You did not heed the advice given to you and downed more drinks and shots, some to your own volition, others thrust upon you from new fans or admirers, but you took the drink and shooed them away. You sat there, drowning in your own sorrows, when you felt a presence sit in the barstool beside you. You looked to your side to see the last (and admittedly first) person you wanted to see at the bar - hell ever again. You rolled your eyes and snorted. He looked almost as drunk as you: dark eyes highlighted by red veins around his irises. His pale skin was highlighted in a sweaty glow, and his cheeks were a pale pink. He smelled just as intoxicating as when you first met him, but it was now underscored with tequila and beer. His brows furrowed in what you thought was concern. It made you laugh at him again. 

“Can I help you, sir?” you sneered at him. “Come to give me more advice?” You wanted to turn away from him, to slide off your stool and into the night and hope to never see him again, because the knot in your stomach was getting too much to bare. You hated that Eddie Munson didn’t like you. You couldn’t stand the fact that he thought of you as just another slut that didn’t have talent. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from spiraling.

“I.. I guess I just wanted to check on you.” He scratched the back of his head. “You’ve been sitting here alone all night, I just-” he sighed. Why the fuck did he come over here? He just wanted to be close to you, to get another shot. He liked seeing you smiling and bubbly, like the beginning of the night. He loathed to admit it, because you still pissed him the hell off, but he would do just about whatever it took to see you smile.

“I’m fine. Not that you care..”

“I.. I do though. I shouldn’t have said that shit on stage. I was angry and upset and I really didn’t mean it.” You dared to look at the man and you were entrapped, his slight pout reeled you in. You let your vulnerability show as your eyes twinkled with uncried tears. 

“You mean it?” you whimpered. It took everything for Eddie to not pull you into his chest and take you away from this shitty bar. A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be sitting in a dark bar, tears staining your face. He fucked up so badly. He smiled tightly at you and nodded.

“How about we start again?” He stuck his hand out towards you. “I’m Eddie Munson, and I’m a big fan. Can I buy you a drink?” You tried to hide your smile, to no avail. You both giggled and you grabbed his hand. 

“I'm Y/N L/N, and I’ll let you buy me a drink only if I can buy you one after.” You offered. The two of you giggled as Eddie waved the bartender over. 

“One of whatever the lovely lady wants and a whiskey for me.” You beamed at Eddie and gave the tender your order. If the alcohol you already had didn’t knock you on your ass, being around Eddie sure would. 

Time flew, and you felt like if you weren’t holding onto the bar, you would drift away. Eddie told you about Hawkins, and being the resident freak, about how he thought he would die in Hawkins High and that Corroded Coffin wouldn’t ever go anywhere. You told him about living in Fort Wayne and wanting to play at the Embassy Theatre with all of your being. You wanted to go to Jacob’s School of Music, but couldn’t pay the tuition. How you longed to get out of Indiana, and to some place far away from your shitty dad, and without your band - a point of conflict for you because you loved them all, but they were a band long before you came around, and Eddie’s point about being a girl in a band that doesn’t respect women is hard. Head Case was the first time you had ever been taken seriously. Eddie listened intently, your filter was broken with the alcohol and Eddie’s intoxicating presence. Two hours ago, you were sitting alone, hating the man that was sitting with you now, and you had no idea how you were just going to turn around and go back home. 

On the other side of the venue sat Joey and Owen, entertaining the groupies that came to chat. But Joey’s eyes laid fixedly on you, sitting with the fucking loser that talked so much shit about their band earlier that night. 

“I don’t fucking like that Eddie guy,” he seethed. He ran his fingers through his dusty brown curls and gritted his teeth. 

“Don’t like him or don’t like that he’s flirting with your girl?” Owen teased. Joey sent him a smack to the chest. 

“I don’t like the fact that he said some really out of pocket shit, and she’s still sitting there talking to him like a dummy. I should go get her,” Joey slid out of his chair and past waiting fans towards you. 

“I’ll fucking solve this Munson problem” he whispered under his breath, and cracked his knuckles.

You and Eddie laughed loudly. You let out another small snort that made both of you laugh harder. Eddie couldn’t believe that something so perfect could be packaged into a person like you. You went to push the metalhead on the shoulder and slid off your stool with a ‘woop’. Instinctually, Eddie grabbed your arm and waist to prevent you from falling to the floor. His face dropped dangerously close to yours; all it would take is for you to lean up and your lips would connect. It didn’t seem like a bad idea. As you closed your eyes and willed your body to do what it thought it should, a firm hand pulled you backwards and out of Eddie’s arms. Your back flew flat to a toned chest. A familiar stubble glided across your ear.

“You’re drunk and it’s time to go.” Joey’s smooth voice sounded rough and stern. It sent a shiver down your back. Eddie jumped out of his seat and towards Joey. 

“I think she can make decisions for herself, big man,” Eddie threatened. 

“She can barely fucking stand. Think I’m gonna leave my girl with a fuckhead like you?” Joey scoffed. Your eyes finally surrendered the tears that wanted to fall all night as Joey pulled you to the door. 

His girl. His girl?! You hadn’t mentioned anything about him. Why weren’t you two together earlier in the night? He was confused, angry, and (although he would never admit it) slightly heartbroken. He grabbed his leather jacket that he had perched on the back of the stool and pushed through the crowd and out the door after you. He had time to see your small body being crumpled into the back of a taxi. Joey was about to duck in after you, but saw Eddie standing stunned in the cool Indiana night. He stalked towards the man now clenching his fists in anticipation.

“Hey, Munson. I’m gonna tell you a little something. You’re a fucking loser, bro. She’s not into one night stands and she would never date a fucking freak like you. So back the fuck off before I have to put you in place myself.” He pushed Eddie back, but all Eddie could focus on was you hanging out the window, silently pleading with the fuckass in front of him. 

“Hey, Joey is it? Fuck yourself. Make sure she gets home safe. Take her to her hotel room, or wherever the hell you’re staying and tuck her in and stay the fuck away from her.” Eddie pushed his index finger into Joey’s chest. “Or I will drive up to Fort Wayne and kill you myself.” Eddie leaned around the man in front of him and waved to you. You sent him a nervous smile and a wave. Eddie stepped back and leaned against the wall and watched your cab disappear into the night. You sat backwards in your seat to watch Eddie’s figure shrink into nothing before turning back around with a sigh. Joey rested a hand on your bare knee and rubbed circles into your skin that felt like sandpaper. 

“Let’s get you back to the hotel and nice and comfy, doll. Okay?” you silently shook your head at the boy beside you, wishing it was the mopheaded, dimple-cheeked boy you sat with at the bar all night. 

Eddie let out a long sigh and crinkled his nose with a heartbroken sigh. He pulled the cigarette hiding behind his ear and popped it in his mouth. At least he could finally have his smoke. 

You woke up with the same pounding in your head that you felt in your heart. The slow streets of Indianapolis were bustling already. You glanced over to the alarm clock on the side table in your small hotel room, reading 11:42am. You groaned, grabbed the glass of water by your bed and sat yourself up. You loathed getting back into a van with your bandmates and going home. In protest to all the fibers in your body, you packed your small bag, got yourself ready for the trip back home and shut the door to your hotel room behind you. 

The rest of your band sprawled across the lobby, waiting for you and Joey. They looked as bad as you did; Owen and Dave looked as green as the tacky carpet and Jake had barely lifted his head to wish you a good morning. You sulked to the reception and dropped your key on the desk with a tight smile. The young woman who took your key gasped in remembrance.

“Oh! Someone left a note for you.” She slid a small, tattered piece of paper folded into a messy square. You picked up the note cautiously. You unfolded it. It took a moment to realize what you were reading, but when you did you continued with a shy, excited  smile.

Your pulse quickened when you finished reading the note. You held it to your heart and said a thank you to the woman smiling knowingly at you. You pulled it away from your chest to make sure the ink was still preserved when the note was hastily snatched from your hands. 

“What’s this?” Joey’s voice taunted. You could hear the sneer in his voice, but it was panged with insecurity. His eyes glazed over the note and looked at you in surprise. His voice was playful to everyone else’s ears, but you could feel the venom in his words.

“Look, guys,” Joey got the attention of the waiting boys in the lobby. They glanced over to the two of you. “Y/N Has a little admirer.” Your eyes were burning with angry tears. You lunged for the note, but Joey was faster. He wagged his finger at you as he read the chicken scratch. You wished you could snap it off. 

“Wow, Eddie Munson underestimated you… Do you care to elaborate?” His eyes bored into you. The room was constricting and you needed air. 

“Nothing, Joey. We were just talking.”

“Oh, this was about when he called you all those lovely names in the green room? Or backstage?” His eyes narrowed and yours fixated on the floor. You squirmed under Joey’s gaze, your bandmates feeling just as awkward as you now. 

“He said he was-”

“Oh I know, I can read.” Joey stepped towards you, but didn’t lower his tone. “What did you do to convince him otherwise? God who would have known what would have happened if I didn’t take your sorry ass back last night? God, Y/N that was embarrassing.”

“Joey, knock it off man, it’s no biggie. We were all drunk last night.” Jake defended. He was silenced by the sharp look he received. 

“Yeah, but we don’t get taken advantage of like she does. Hope it was worth it, doll, because you don’t need men like Eddie Munson in your life, and you won’t be seeing him anymore.” Joey sauntered over to a garbage can in the lobby and shredded the flimsy paper in his hands, along with your heart. His eyes never left yours. Your breath was caught in your throat and the molten tears finally spilled down your eyes. You grabbed your bag that had been dropped on the floor and stormed out of the hotel. The gaggle of shocked men followed behind you, each one giving Joey a disappointed glare on the way out. Dave was the last out, Joey following behind him. 

“It was for her own good.” Joey tried to reason. Dave shook his head and scoffed him off. He swung the keys on his finger before hopping in the shabby van. You found your seat in the back by the instruments and pulled your Walkman out of your bag. You hastily shoved your headphones over your ears and desperately hoped the booming bass of the Beastie Boys would drown out any of the men’s voices. It was going to be a long ride back home.

Part two soooooon...

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[ilovejevsjeans]

Why is it no one has a problem with Nico Hulkenberg, a man whos only achievement is most F1 starts WITHOUT A PODIUM, returning to F1 after two years with no seat but a man with 8 wins, 32 podiums, 3 pole positions and 16 fastest laps coming back after a year off is impossible?!?! Make is make sense!

[coochiequeens]

Yet another case for SheWon.com. Not just any case, one where a grown ass white dude was allowed to compete against an 11 year old girl of color in the name of inclusiveness.

By Amy Hamm February 22, 2024

A trans-identified male is set to compete against women as the reigning Women’s Snooker Champion at the English Women’s Snooker Championship on May 24 in Walsall, UK. Jamie Hunter, 27, became the top women’s player following a semifinal victory against a young girl last year.

Hunter first rose to prominence during the English Women’s Snooker Champion finals in 2023 after he came out victorious against Mary Talbot-Deegan, finishing 3-1. Hunter had managed to make it to the finals after he beat out Ellise Scott, an 11-year-old rising star in the snooker world, taking 2-0 against her in the semifinal grouping. The event had been Scott’s debut in the tournament, and, prior to her match against Hunter, she had achieved three match victories against experienced female opponents.

Hunter had been participating in women’s cue sports since 2021, just one year after he “came out” as transgender.

Prior to transitioning, Hunter played in a mixed-sex amateur league for five years. Speaking with Snooker Zone in 2021, Hunter admitted that he had no intention of competing professionally until he discovered that there was a women’s tour.

“Until this year, cue sports was just a hobby, something I done once, maybe twice a week, but now finding out about the Women’s snooker tour, I believe that will change,” he said at the time. “They make out as if I played snooker as a man, I was rubbish, so decided to do it in the women’s instead. I changed my gender for my wellbeing and my life, not for anything else.”

Hunter received significant backlash after his 2022 US Women’s Open win, when former women’s world champion Maria Catalano criticized the policies enabling males to compete against females. In an interview with The Sportsman, Catalano argued that women’s snooker should exclude males from female categories, as some rugby leagues have, to ensure fairness for women. 

“We have fought so hard for our rights in the past – myself, Reanne Evans and others got people to write letters to allow us to play in leagues and clubs that banned women. I don’t believe that women can compete against men on a level playing field in sport. We are wired differently, we think differently. We are mentally different,” said Catalano. 

The World Professional Billiards and Snooker Association (WPBSA) publishes a mixed sex international ranking of players. The highest-ranking female on their current list, Mink Nutcharut, is listed at 119.

In response to the criticism of his wins against women, Hunter has framed the backlash as transphobia.

“Everybody’s human. Regardless of what choices you make. You should treat everybody with respect,” said Hunter speaking to a BBC journalist last fall. Bizarrely, Hunter was interviewed while he sat in a gaming chair in a dark bedroom — which he refers to as “the dark girl cave.” The room has a transgender pride flag pinned up on the wall behind him.

The upcoming English Women’s Snooker Championship is set for May 24, 2024. It is being organized by the English Partnership for Snooker and Billiards (EPSB), which is the national governing body for the sport in England. They describe their goal as creating a “structured coaching environment that will inspire all regardless of gender, ability, or ethnicity to fulfil their potential in our sport.” 

The EPSB has a diversity, equity, and inclusion policy with a lengthy section on discrimination, including a ban on any “condition, rule or practice [that]… particularly disadvantages people who share a protected characteristic.” As for their list of protected characteristics, the EPSB includes “gender, gender identity, marital status, sexual orientation, race, colour, nationality, religion, age, disability, HIV positivity, working pattern, caring responsibilities, trade union activity or political beliefs.”  

The English Women’s Championship is set to take place at the Landywood Snooker Club in Walsall, UK, on May 24.

This is not the first time a male has dominated women’s cue sports, sparking backlash from players and fans.

Last November, a female pool player refused to compete against a trans-identified male opponent at a women’s championship in Wales. Lynne Pinches received an outpouring of support as video began to circulate showing her walking away from the table after being matched to play against Chris Haynes.

Days later, two more female pool players refused to compete against Haynes in solidarity with Pinches during the Ultimate Pool tournament in Blackpool, UK.

In January, Pinches headed an effort to launch a lawsuit against the World Eightball Pool Federation (WEPF) and Ultimate Pool Group (UPG), accusing the governing bodies of subjecting women “to direct sex discrimination and harassment on the grounds of sex.”

What does he have to gain from this?

ENTRY FEES AND PRIZE MONEY

Entry: £30

Winner: £200 

Runner-Up: £100 

Semi-Finalists: £50

[afterglowsainz]

we used to have more | oscar piastri

part 2 part 3 part 4

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: while working as community manager in formula 1 you have to follow a rule of no fraternization with the drivers, which keeps you and oscar from being together

fc: different girls from pinterest

warnings: some characters have names (because there’s only so many y/f/n that i can use), some mentions of oscar’s girlfriend as her ex

a/n: so i have this one shot called guilty as sin? (that you should totally go read) and i’ve been thinking about expanding on it a little because i keep getting ideas around the same concept so welcome to an au version of my own fic in smau format, enjoy!

—

liked by oscarpiastri, lissiemackintosh and others

yourusername another season, another year of trying to make f1 fun for the girlies🎀

view all comments

lissiemackintosh do you just casually serve face like this on a random thursday?

yourusername occupational hazards 😝

username my girl is back !!!

username she’s so classy i love her

username i need the girlies that find her clothes to find everything in this dump asap!

username my icon

username y/n please stay in f1 forever thank you❤️

username oh to be a woman in f1

username FINALLY

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip mclaren’s oscar piastri was seen this weekend next to y/n y/l/n (the community manager of f1 social media) on different occasions. the people who sent us the videos said that oscar was the one that looked for her and approached her every time

tagged oscarpiastri and yourusername

view all comments

username yeah no

username pls lord let this be fake news

username he. approached. her. every. time.

username idk they look kinda cute together

username hoping and praying this was just for content or something

username nooo y/n is one of the f1 female icons, dating a driver would be such a setback for her 😩

username pls if she wants to date a driver then it’s her business, doesn’t take away everything she’s done for women in motorsports

username i love y/n and oscar separately, together …. uhmmm

username omg my faves!!! i hope they date they’d be so cute together 🥰

liked by exgirlfriend, logansargeant and others

oscarpiastri back to my roots in baku 🏎

view all comments

username good luck this year 🧿🧿🧿

username manifesting a championship as we speak 🕯

username ugh look at him i just KNOW a future F1 champion when i see it

username omg the ex girlfriend liked 🫣

username are we about to see episode 37283 of them getting back together after breaking up? 😅

username he looks so cute in that go-kart🥺

username let’s go oscar 🍾🍾🍾

landonorris 👊🏽👊🏽👊🏽

oscarpiastri 😉

username nonchalant king!

lissiemackintosh’s instagram stories

[caption 1: milesbaldwin, declanmurray] [caption 2: yourusername my 💗]

liked by miguelsossa, exgirlfriend and others

yourusername always hustling as you can see 🧘🏽‍♀️

tagged milesbaldwin

view all comments

username so beautiful 🤩

username the outfitttt >>>

username my fashion icon fr

milesbaldwin working hard or hardly working? 🧐

yourusername you’re one to talk

milesbaldwin i’m being attacked here pls defend my honor declanmurray miguelsossa

lissiemackintosh y/n is right miles you took two naps in one hour while we were making content

milesbaldwin !!! declanmurray miguelsossa

declanmurray girls be nice to miles

milesbaldwin 😁

declanmurray it’s past his bedtime

miguelsossa 🤣🫵🏽 milesbaldwin

username i love their friendship😩

username wtf oscar’s ex liked her post and unliked it 😭

liked by f1wags and others

f1gossip mclaren’s oscar piastri was seen this weekend with his ex girlfriend at the paddock together, emerging rumors of possibly getting back together after six months of breaking up

tagged oscarpiastri and exgirlfriend

view all comments

username not again

username does this man doesn’t know there’s other women alive?

username guys leave him alone he’s competing for the trophy of who can get back with their ex the most times

username but … but … y/n ….

username i thought they were together too 😩

username i honestly prefer him with y/n than back with his ex for the millionth time

username guys they’re holding hands… it’s over

username my guy really lost the game of getting over your ex

[elierlick]

Pundits keep claiming that there are no trans men competing with other men. In reality, there are dozens of amazing trans men playing in the men's leagues, including some impressive Olympic athletes. Here are 5 trans sportsmen who recently joined men's divisions:

Japanese champion boxer Shindo Go generated much interest when he announced he was rejoining the ring in the men's division after transitioning. He just had his first trial fight in December, narrowly losing (29-27) to his opponent. He's set to return professionally this year!

Brazil's champion table tennis player Luca Kumahara began playing against other men in December. He quickly became a finalist in a national competition, defeated only by the championship winner. The 29-year-old trans man is currently providing commentary at the Olympics after playing in the 2012, 2016, and 2021 games.

Loui Sand is a Swedish handball player. He thought he would have to retire in 2019 when he transitioned but Kärra HF contracted him to play on the men's team shortly after! Unfortunately, like too many trans athletes, he had to end his career early in 2022 due to harassment.

Danny Baker started boxing when he was just 14. After transitioning in his 20s, he became Britain's first professional trans boxer in the men's division. He's already won several matches against cis men and continues to fight his way up the ranks!

Finally, fencer Bobbie Hirsch joined his college men's team last year as their first trans male fencer. He placed in the NCAA regionals only weeks after starting. I want to highlight Bobbie because, like many other young trans men, he will undoubtedly make history with his athletic skills.

Know anyone else who didn't make it onto this list? Let me know in a comment or reblog!

[the-flaneur]

the worst attempt of nnn ever

pairing: f1 grid x gn!reader [headcanon]

ft. the whole 2024 grid

summary: technically everyone wins, aka who's most likely to fail nnn the quickest

warnings: shitpost/crack, very suggestive content and some 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut

[masterlist] [requests]

fail first

lewis

this man has zero discipline when it comes to you

absolute zero, zip, zilch, nada

normally he's on you 24/7

but when it comes to the end of the season and most things have been tied up and he dgaf, what better way to end each week than by fucking your brains out

aka 25/8 times a week

so when you attempt to propose to do nnn "for fun" on the 31st, he glares at you, calls you dumb before fucking you silly overnight (until the 1st) so that you never suggest it again that month/year

(he also bribes other drivers and wags to make sure that you are NOT included in their nnn plans)

zhou

shockingly in second place

but only cause he loves you too much, finds nnn a weird tradition (when you explained the basics) and just wants to snuggle with you and sweetcorn in bed

like why make yourself unconfortable and horny when he could just be happy and satisfied (and still horny) with you :D

lando

man is so fired up about the championship battle that he doesn't entertain the notion and just fucks you the minute november starts just to make sure you know not to fuck with him

he only manages to hang onto longer than lewis and zhou cause he was tired and forgot what time it was

carlos

had planned on competing with lando, since they had done it the year before, and the year before that (aka when they were teamates)

but when he found out from you (who found out from lando's partner) that they had already failed, he said to try for a few days

you said you didn't want to

"but it might be good for us" carlos had complained, saying something no one had ever said

and so you just like seduced him like five days later then BAM WHAM, he's back to blowing your back out

not that he needed that much encouragement

pierre

just wanted to fuck you in peace for halloween after you showed up in a very hot outfit

but then charles was like oohhhh we should try this

(f u charles)

but then almost cried in the shower when he realised he couldn't jerk off either

you heard him whimpering, laughed about it and then sucked him off

he tried to hide it, but charles found out anyways

max

is usually too busy to fuck you during race weekends so, he just failed when he like normally fucked you

cause he wanted to fuck you

cause yeah...

so....yeah...

oscar

likes to pretend he's disciplined and has lots of mental restraint

(he doesn't have restraint when it comes to you)

tried to keep some distance, aka by not arriving together at the paddock

but then failed after he saw you with franco, got jealous, said f this shit and then took you in his driver's room

checo

didn't give two flying fucks

only got interested cause evens was talking about it

but throws the challenge out the windoow the minute you insinuate that he seems "weak" about you

kmag

thinks its childish but still wanted to try it

got actually comfortable with it, until you made a sexy joke

hulk

lasts longer cause kmag found it childish

but still wanted to try it too after kmag told him about it

ocon

just wanted to beat gasly

lance

wanted to fuck you

so he complained to his father about the challenge and how you were going give him a reward at the end

so evil stepmum kdrama style, lawerence comes in and tries to give you envelopes of cash to get you to fuck stroll

you gleefully refuse

you manage to negotiate three ashton martins, a ferrari laferrari, and more, before still teasing him

to which he just gives up, and waits for you

george

for those actually dedicated to doing it, he set up the betting pool and "official" rules

(no charles...touching and edging yourself is not "illegal" but you're running the sPIrIt of the challenge)

but like lost out in the second week, when he saw you were having an amazing hair day

said ok i wanna pull on it *with grabby hands* and then gave up

(everyone mocked him relentlessly afterwards)

valterri

super chill about it

tried it only cause you wanted to try it for fun

actually found it hard to be away from you (only cause you love him so much too)

but you managed to reach the third week before simply saying

"that's enough"

franco

had never heard of it

but defs wanted to try after he learnt a about it

got really pissed off by the second week cause you were also teasing him sooooo much

but you kept refusing

basically had to beg his way into convincing you "near" it, and only seeing him get really pouty did you give in

yuki

swears and glares daggers at you the entire three weeks

but he's gotta prove that big things come in small packages

and actually makes it almost to week four before passing out from sheer horniness

fernando

actually lasts longer than most people thought he would

(liam spitefully calls out that he thought nando's blue balls would fall off)

is happy he is technically the best wdc at nnn (even moreso that lewis lost first)

makes it to like the last couple of days

you get bored and tired

so now fernando is bored and tired and just fucks you

alex

certified genz brainrotter

ofc know what it is, and is demandin to win it and prove he's at least NOT a lost in one area (his words not yours)

makes it to the last few days, before you trick into letting you give him a handjob

tries to argue technicalities with george

but by then nov its over and he just gives up

charles

used all his ferrari training in patience to last this long

wanted to tell you to kys when you suggested it

but eventually he got soooo into doing it, he was policing you

however he losses cause he was stupid

you're on his jet

he forgets time zones exist

thought he won

sent a gloating text message to the gc

and [redacted] beats him on the technicality

liam

this man is going all in no regrets, gambling style 😎

even if he didn't propose it, he's definetly the most eager to prove himself (especially to fernando and checo)

he's setting up strict rules to ensure that his dick does not get anywhere near you when sleeping, eating or breathing

(in the last few days he desperately asks you to sleep in the guest bedroom cause he's this close 🤏 to caving in)

however, he resists and gets bragging rights over everyone for the rest of the year.

fail last/succeed

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[lov3darlings]

darlings thoughts, figureskater!reader (18+)

cw: smut obviously, cock warming, implied sugar daddy, age gap

thinking about being lando norris' controversially young gf who acts like it's a six year age gap is not thattt big. besides f1 fans are not new to controversial relationships in the new grid. he's spoiling you with whatever he can. new blades with your name on it and his initials in very tiny font that the cameras can't catch. he's buying you multiple replicas of the same dress so that he can tear it off of you after every competion.

irrespective of your stance on the podium. well, it does matter. when you get the gold he's the sweet guy but anything less than that awaits a punishment. he says that he's pushing you to your best abilities better than you coach.

each quad jump, spin, new world record made or broken foesters rewards like those stella mccartney shoes you said you wanted, that vera wang dress, a Laferrari, his fingers, his cock. whatever you like.

"there's my champ, my girl," he says pulling you into a hug as the gold medal hung around your neck and another grand prix final champion title, metaphorically, on your shoulders. "you were amazing out there as always," he mumbled into your neck making you blush. his behaviour even in bed is usually sweet, singing your praises as he stretches out your cunt.

the green dress, previously adorned in rhinestones and glitter torn down to shreddes on the bedroom floor along with your skin coloured tights. the gold medal and team jacket somewhere along the pile of clothes.

"lan—"you sobbed, coming undone on his cock. "your sweet cunt was made for my cock," he groans, bullying his cock into your cunt until he came. his cum painting your walls white. lando shoved his middle and ring finger into you cunt, stuffing the sitcky liquid back. your legs were already aching from the competion. you sure would be sore tomorrow.

he adjusts himself between you thighs. your legs over his shoulder and his face between your weeping cunt. already overstimulated, you try to push him away as he peppers kisses on your sore cunt. "don't you dare push me away. you're gonna take it like the champ you are," he bits on your inner thigh. "aren't you one doll? aren't you my champ, my pretty girl?" he asks before lapping up at your juices.

he knows how much you crave his praise, his validation. motherfucker knows how to get his way to you heart and your cunt.

lando is undoubtedly a jealous man and it shines (in bed) when you have pair performances for gala.

"didn't know he paid for the skates and dresses you wear huh?" he cocks his head to side. his cock burried in you but not doing anything. "baby please," you mumbled, trying to move in his lap to get some friction but his arms on your waist kept you in locked in a place.

"please what, darling?" he smirked. "please just do something," you buried your head in his neck. "something like this?" he asks, suddenly thrusting in you earning a squeal of a moan. "yeah," you breathe in.

"well then gorgeous, come on beg for it, say who you belong to," he pinches your waist. "baby please, please fuck me, i belong to you. please, please, please just fuck me." yeah you weren't afriad of a little begging if it meant he fucked you well.

"mhhm, say it a little louder," he said. you obliged, repeating your pleas again. "again." "can't hear you." "beg for it more." "once again." he made you repeat yourself again and again until he was satisfied and the words were drilled into your brain. only then to reward you.

lando excitedly awaits the end of season. his obviously, but more so yours. finally when he can drag you all around the world for a few months before you need to start preparing for another season of winning. but not only that, he loves when his beloved comes into his arms running after winning yet another world championship.

he can finally make her try both the dresses so that he can take his painfully slow time to tear it off of her and reward you by leaving you breathless in the monaco night. in his yatch, car, paddocks around the world, everywhere he pleased and by sneakily stealing away your ability to walk for a couple of days.

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Month - July 2024

🏅- Talk about an Olympic comeback!

1. U.S. proposes ban on airline fees for seating parents next to kids

Parents should't have to pay a fee to sit next to their children when flying, according to the White House, which is moving to ban airlines from charging families extra to be seated together.

Under a rule proposed Thursday by the Department of Transportation, airlines would be required to seat parents and kids 13 and younger together free of charge when adjacent seating is available at booking.

2. A spinal injury killed Adriana Ruano's dream as a gymnast. She just won Guatemala's first Olympic gold medal as a shooter.

Ruano was training for the 2011 world championships in gymnastics, a qualifier for the London Olympics the following year, when she felt pain in her back. An MRI showed the then-16-year-old had six damaged vertebrae — a career-ending injury.

But on Wednesday, she came back as a shooter and won Guatemala's first Olympic gold medal.

3. Woman swept out to sea rescued after surviving 37 hours in 6.5' waves, drifted over 50 miles.

A Chinese woman who was swept out to sea while swimming at a Japanese beach was rescued 37 hours later after drifting in an inflatable swim ring more than 80 kilometers (50 miles) in the Pacific Ocean, officials said Thursday.

4. Afghan Sisters Escape The Taliban To Achieve Olympic Dreams

Sisters Yulduz and Fariba Hashimi are set to become the first female cyclists from Afghanistan to compete in the Olympics. The siblings fled their country after the Taliban seized power in 2021 and cracked down on women's rights, including banning women from participating in sports.

5. Stem cell therapy cures man with type 2 diabetes

A 59-year-old man had been suffering from diabetes for 25 years, needing more and more insulin every day to avoid slipping into a diabetic coma and was at risk of death. But then Chinese researchers cured his disease for the first time in the world. The patient received a cell transplant in 2021 and has not taken any medication since 2022.

6. Seventh person likely 'cured' of HIV, doctors announce

A 60-year-old German man is likely the seventh person to be effectively cured from HIV after receiving a stem cell transplant, doctors announced on Thursday. The man received a bone marrow transplant for his leukaemia in 2015. The procedure, which has a 10 percent risk of death, essentially replaces a person's immune system.

7. Every country has now banned the use of leaded gasoline in cars

Three and a half decades later, in 2021, Algeria became the last country to ban it. Leaded gasoline is now banned from being used in road vehicles in every country. It is a big win for the health of people around the world.

----------

That's it for this month :)

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Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to share this post with your friends.

[genderkoolaid]

He is competing in the women’s division because he has not undergone hormone replacement therapy or gender reassignment therapy, despite identifying as a trans man. In fact, Bacyadan has proudly claimed several times that he has never taken testosterone and even stood up to the Russian vovinam team in 2023 after they requested that his gold medal win be nullified because he was a “man”. Bacyadan won the 2023 world championship in women’s vovinam, a Vietnamese martial art that combines elements of boxing, judo and wushu, a Chinese martial art. If Bacyadan earns a medal in Paris, he will become the first trans male medallist in Olympic history. He told ABS-CBN News that he is proud to represent the LGBTQ+ community. “We will perform better to make a difference,” he said. “My biggest motivation is my family, my tribe in Kalinga, and the people who believe I can win a medal at the Paris Olympics.”

[cheriladycl01]

Pushed Down and Down - Grid x Driver! Reader

Plot: Suffering with mental health issues as a driver isn’t easy - but when people actively don’t help it can only get worse.

Based on that one tiktok edit sound.

A/N: as someone who struggles with her own mental health this was a true comfort for me to write and reread. Drivers who talk about their mental health and how they do struggle literally have my whole heart (Lando, Lewis etc)

Warnings: Talk of mental health, depression, anxiety, etc, all drivers are a little mean to Y/N

From a very young age you were told you wouldn’t be able to do karting, and you wouldn’t get very far as it was strictly a man’s sport.

Your mum tried to sway your opinion as you were clearly the athletic type and get you into gymnastics or dancing. But the smell of the petrol and the adrenaline you got from going round the tracks was like nothing else.

Your dad on the other hand fully supported you, he was a mechanic so he did struggle to afford decent gear for you but you made do with what you had.

This however never stopped you, and as a child going into a teenager and young adult it didn’t affect you too much. You took your wins as and when they came and you worked hard for them and you took your losses as opportunity to learn from.

Oh how you wish you could go back to those days.

You proceeded to be asked in 2016 if you wanted to compete in British F4, you had your License and it seemed like you were this up and coming British talent.

You came 1st in the British F4 championship in 2017 right after Lando Norris and Max Fewtrell won the years before you. The two behind you being Oscar Piastri and Logan Sargeant. You didn’t win a race for the whole season, just pure consistency.

You then came third in the UAE F4 Championship in the same year. Oscar and Logan were also in that series with you. Logan being right on your toes coming in second place. This season you were close to taking your first win, but Logan had crashed you out taking the win for himself and leaving you down in P8.

Both Oscar and Logan of course moved up to bigger and better things in 2018. Both of them moving up to doing Eurocup Formula Renault whereas you weren’t offered anything.

In 2018 you competed in Formula 4 United States and came second place again. Your team let your American team-mate pass you on the last race of the season through team orders even though you were on equal points.

You took the loss and moved on because that just the kind of race driver you WERE.

In 2019 you were promoted to F3 and got to drive with Max Fewtrell, Logan Sargeant, Yuki Tsunoda and Liam Lawson. You came second and you actually were insanely close to Robert, but it never felt like a win. You were with Prema, and you fought tooth and nail.

In 2020, Oscar and Logan rejoined you in the feeder series and were in the same team as you as you remained with Prema.

Prema, unfortunately for you and Logan prioritised Oscar and with an insanely dominant year for Prema Oscar won the championship through the help of team orders. There were many chances for you to take wins but you knew you couldn’t get promoted to F2 just get, even though you spend to years in Prema and come second both times.

This was when Red Bull noticed you and backed you paying for the rest of your career which was lucky really considering your dad wouldn’t have been able to afford another season for you in F3 with all the debt he was already in.

2021 came around and Red Bull helped you further your career getting lots of sponsor shops along the way and finally securing you an F2 seat for the 2022 season.

In 2021 you finally won a championship, but you didn’t feel like it was a win. Everyone had something to say about this achievement, that you’d only won thanks to the team, and that it wasn’t driver capability. As a young 21 year old these comments really affected you going into the F2 season.

Once you got into F2 in 2022, you were head to head with Felipe Drugovich. Red Bull also came forward asking for you to become a reserve driver for Red Bull alongside your F2 driver Liam Lawson. You were back in the standings with Logan too, Oscar having won back to back championships and now becoming the golden goose on his route to F1 with Alpine.

This year halfway though the season you had to experience the unfortunate passing of your dad, the only true supporter you ever had. It was utterly dismal for the few races that came afterwards.

The season was closing out and there were only 3 points between you and Felipe with Theo and Liam not far behind. With a dramatic qually in Abu Dabi that had most of you at the back of the pack when starting the race, you prevailed winning the race and taking the championship.

You got out of that car celebrating only to see your team not there for you. You awkwardly celebrated with the team of the drivers from 2nd and 3rd place but you couldn’t understand why they weren’t there for you.

But he was there for you…

Christian Horner in his Red Bull team gear, white envelope in his hand that he presented you in the quiet room.

He was the first person to truly believe in you and see see potential apart from your dad and it was refreshing getting the contract that was going to sign you on as a rookie along with Oscar and Logan in the 2023 season.

F1

Liked by y/user, f1mia and others

f1: BREAKING: RedBull announce Y/N Y/L/N to drive for them in 2023 meaning all seats for the season have now been filled.

#f1 #redbull #womeninthepaddock

View all comments

user1: oh Lord I’ve followed her since F3, so proud of her!

y/user: this is a dream come true! I can finally tell my mum I made it!

lewishamilton: so proud of everything you’ve done to get women this far in the sport @y/user

user2: god they just keep on ruining this sport

redbullracing: So excited to have Y/N join us on the team!

-> y/user: I’m so thankful to you guys to be given the opportunity!

user2: oh this year is gonna slap.

maxverstappen1: welcome to the RedBull Family!

First was the Bahrain Grand Prix, it was your 3rd time in and F1 car and you were obviously very nervous. It was your first race weekend and you didn’t know where to place yourself.

The whole weekend didn’t really feel like your debut it just felt glazed over with Sergio Perez leaving and no longer being in F1. A lot of the team had hushed whispers around the situation, and Max tried his best to make you feel welcome but his awkwardness made that hard.

“So like what do you do, you drink beer?” Max awkwardly asks as you’d both been sat in the hospitality together waiting for Christian or one of the engineers to come grab you.

“Oh erm, no I don’t drink at all actually” you smile with a little furrow in your brows.

“Oh … right” Max sighs and thankfully that conversation was cut short when Christian came round the corner to collect you both.

You both were racing and for a rookie you had incredible tyre management making the agreed one stop strategy seemingly start to work despite the temperature on track. You were very quick, maybe even more quick than Max.

However coming out the pits, your tires are already starting to complain and tyre marbles are going left right and center.

Y/N Radio: What happened guys, my tyres are degrading so quickly I thought we agreed on hards?

Static was all that was received back.

Y/N Radio: Guys did you put me on softs?

Race Engineer: Sorry Y/N mess up at the pits, pit in 5 laps.

And once word got out to the other teams that they’d fucked up your race strategy and that you were basically free game your race was pretty much over.

P4 wasn’t bad considering the mistakes made, but you knew you’d could have gotten a podium on your first race.

“Y/N amazing first race in F1 you really know how to make an entrance to the sport huh?” The interviewer says cheerfully happy that you’ve done as well as you did.

“Yeah” you say with a smile.

“Not happy with the result it seems?” She pushes and you sigh.

“I’m of course so happy, getting P4 was amazing and I know my team are happy and I’ve made eveyone at home really proud. Thank you dad and I hope you’re watching! But it’s always a little … disappointing? I don’t really know if that’s the right word for how I’m feeling right now, when the outlook of something is going so well and external forces out or your control tamper with that it’s not a nice feeling. I’m really proud of the team today and of course Max had a great win today so we collected a lot of points for the team and remain top in the constructors” you explain and she nods slightly shocked with how open and honest you had been.

Eventually you were taken away by your PR manager who was starting to worry about what you were saying, a little scolding that you weren’t sure what for afterwards.

People spoke too, Lando and Oscar shocked you most.

“Y/N was kinda dangerous on track today, can’t believe she was that ballsy as a rookie man” Oscar said having know you the best driving with you for as long as he had.

“She’s talented for sure but I can’t help but feel like she’s gonna wash out” Lando admits with a sigh.

Was he right, would you have one good season and then that was it?

Things went the same in Saudi this time you managed to place your car in pole position, leading the race while Max had an unfortunate start from P15.

However after team orders came in to let Max take over once he got to a close enough gap behind you made you obey the team, not wanting to get on their nerves and make them regret choosing you. After that a botched pit stop and Oscar driving like a lunatic and bumping into your side left you down from P2 to P6

“Y/N what an incredible drive despite all that happened and you’ve hauled some good points for the team! How are you feeling?” The interviewer asks pushing the mic closer to you.

“Hot, I’m so hot right now” you joke trying to lighten the mood, wiping the sweat away from your forehead.

“Yeah I can’t imagine with this heat and the fact that the car is incredibly warm here” she smiles back and you take a breath before answering the second question.

“Yeah I mean today didnt go as planned. I got pole, I was on track to win, I did everything right but I just don’t think it was meant to be today and you know I’m going to fight really hard in Australia and see where we can get us hopefully something better than what I’m doing now” you say with a polite tight lipped smile and nod before going to the call down room.

You sat against the cold plastic door of the room head against it as you held in your tears. You always told yourself to never cry over a loss as you can’t expect to win them all. But this was supposed to be your race and you can’t help but feel like if you had Max behind you defending the incidents with the pits stop wouldn’t have occurred as you wouldn’t have done that second pit stop that cost you time.

In debrief you couldn’t believe what you were hearing.

“Are you kidding?” You laugh looking towards Max and then back at Christian.

“You didn’t move out the way from Max quick enough and you should have caught up quicker! What were you even thinking out there colliding with Piastri like that!” Horner announces making your cheeks flush a little red from embarrassment.

You didn’t think the collision with Oscar was your fault, but maybe it was.

Then you’d heard Daniel talking to Carlos, and your thoughts continued to spiral.

“She’s a tricky one mate, can’t see her having that seat for long” Daniel admitted to Carlos at the restaurant they were at with some of the other drivers.

Y/N was sad when she didn’t get an invite seeing as many of them were there but she didn’t take it to heart having fun eating alone while people watching.

“Yeah, I wonder how many times they have to tell her team orders” Carlos had added.

The next race was Australia.

You had the faster car, better starts and you beat Max going into turn one. It was a ballsy move on your part but it was clean racing, no damage done.

Race Engineer: Y/N give back position now

Y/N Radio: But I have the faster car Zayn, I got fresher tyres and my deg is fine. I have the stats don’t tell me I’m wrong when I’m the one in the car

Race Engineer: Y/N Max is fighting for the championship, team orders slow down and give position back

And so you did, you gave Max his position back and trailed behind him creating a DRS train behind you, Hamilton and Alonso not being able to pass you to potentially overtake Max.

After this race you started to keep a mental health diary and your coach thought it would be a good idea to see a therapist to help with your quick thinking and decision making on track, of course not for your mental health and you start to struggle with coming to the terms that Max needs a second driver and that’s what Red Bull hired you for.

So you became his second driver.

Constantly being criticised by the team and Horner, constantly having Max tell you that you need to be a second driver for the season and that’s it. Nothing else. Having interviewers wondering why you keep having these near misses.

When your home Grand Prix the British Grand Prix came around you’d just about had enough of being called a second driver. You took matters into your own hands. You spend hours in the sim working out the best angle for the corners of Silverstone and seeing how much you could push the provisional car down the straights.

When it came to qualifying you smashed everyone out the park in all three sectors. The media were buzzing at your stone face for the duration of the weekend.

“Y/N what an amazing qualifying for you, you were really flying out there. And your starting on pole tomorrow with Max behind you, is there going to be team orders to let him through?” The interviewer asks smiling at you.

“I mean there have been the whole season no?” You laugh with less sparkle and glimmer in your eyes than the start of the season.

“Yes, so you’re saying Max will be let ahead tomorrow!” She asks and cock your head to one side.

“He’ll be asked yes” you nod before you leave.

Race day came and you did not listen to team orders.

Race Engineer: Y/N let Max through, then we’ll pit you first to defend the lead while Max pits.

Y/N: what about, no? Come on guys, I’ve done everything for the team you’ve wanted me for. Just let me race him.

Race Engineer: Max will race you too hard, you risk loosing both the cars Y/N let him through.

Y/N: im sorry, but i have to do this for me, to prove I’m as good a driver as i try to be.

Race Engineer: Y/N don’t do this.

And with that you celebrated your first race win. Max had ended up DNFing when he got a little caught behind and skidded onto the gravel trap trying to make up too much time to catch you.

It was a full Brit Podium, you Lando and Lewis. You were thankful you had both of them there to celebrate with you as your team didn’t show up again. Probably all consoling Max on his first DNF of the year. He wasn’t happy at all and you could tell.

“Are you okay?” Lewis had asked you as you guys had stepped away from the podium. The man wasn’t blind and could see the disappointment on your face when no one was there to congratulate you on your first win and celebrate with you.

“M’fine” you say shortly before leaving and going straight to your drivers room, tears following. You spend hours writing away in your self help book. But you couldn’t wallow it was time to take on the words of Taylor Swift in her Reputation Era.

You never thought something you loved so dearly could kill of your spirit so quickly and easily. But Max go tougher as the season went on. Only allowing you one more win in spa where you once again ignored team orders. Max was incredibly unhappy with you up there on the podium and you just knew the media would have something to say about the awful tension between you and Max. He didn’t celebrate with you in Spa only the third place podium which happened to be Charles.

The Red Bull team member immediately celebrated with Max and Charles, as much as you tried to join in however you weren’t able to get close enough. You were royally fucked off.

Singapore felt like a breath of fresh air for you when it happened, it was a new feeling that had your toes curling as you pressed on the brakes knowing that Carlos and Lando were leading with you hot on their tales and Max being nowhere in sight.

Celebrating with them felt different, but everyone could tell that the happy bubbly girl who they’d started the season with was no longer apparent.

The season closed, and honestly your team, Max and Christian all seemed like 2024 wasn’t worth sticking around for … as a great driver you owed it yourself to find your worth in F1 and that wasn’t with Red Bull

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[keepthedelta]

thinking about the rosberg family and how a kardashian or dts style documentary about them would be amazing.

you have keke rosberg, a hard racing cigar smoking legend of motorsport from one of it's most dangerous eras, whose name literally means pixie rose mountain. the man who basically invented formula one in finland but was hated by his own media for being too cosmopolitan and when they tried to recognise his achievements refused to let them put his face on a postage stamp because he wouldn't make money off of it. studied to be a dentist but missed the entrance exam and became a racing driver instead. got out of having to take german in school by persuading the master that he would never need it but as soon as he met a hot older german woman went so insane over her that he proposed just months after meeting her and agreed to make it their primary language at home. set a record for the fastest lap in f1 history that lasted until 2004, won his first f1 race and then won a world championship before he won his second. known as a crazy racer who would go through you if you didn't let him past. also the softest dad who loves his baby boy more than anything else.

then there's sina, the coolest person in the rosberg family. was so hot and smart and talented that a man willingly sacrificed his cultural identity to be her husband. professional interpreter who knows a bunch of languages and taught them to her polyglot son. married a f1 world champion but hated his driving so much that she drove herself everywhere, even to events that she attended with him. showed up finland's independence day ball in a suit and bow tie against all dress customs. planned to give birth on her own because it's basically the same thing as going to the dentist, and she doesn't need a man for that. has an f1 champion husband and son and still banned f1 talk in her house for nico's entire career. got so nervous watching her baby race that she vacuumed the entire apartment each time. ditched her husband in dubai so that she could make it to the track to see nico become world champion in person. got drunk and talked about keke's sperm on live television.

nico rosberg, the saddest wettest kitten who ever lived. the most beloved baby in the world. cried at everything as a child. cried when he lost at tennis and when he won. uber competitive. incredibly athletic, competing internationally in karting and tennis. total nerd who had no trouble with his schoolwork despite missing school constantly and got accepted into imperial college london to study engineering. at the time the youngest person to ever drive an f1 car. the biggest single cause of sexuality crises in motorsport since 2006. was once sponsored by the german version of mtv. nicknamed after a teen pop sensation. met the love of his life when he was four and hit her over the head with a bucket while they were making sandcastles. had an incredibly difficult incredibly public divorce from a man he was never legally married to. dropped the mic said thank u, next and is so so happy in his retirement. has stripped down to his underwear on television and done a river clean up in designer coats. boy mom to an orange cat, girl dad to human children. loves his daughters more than anything, the kind of man who will leave a 2 million dollar car on a hill to hitchhike, with his videographer, to his daughters's christmas party. can pinpoint the amount of time lost in a corner exactly and needs everyone to know about it. deeply annoying, absolutely hilarious, incredibly kind.

and of course, vivian. ceo of the rosberg family. still planning the long game revenge on nico for hitting her with a bucket when they were children, born in germany, studied design in milan, can party harder than f1 drivers. has done the interior design for private jets, because apparently that's a thing. owner, creator and namesake of the best rated ice cream shop in the balearics. makes her daughters matching outfits for a taylor swift concert and publicly teases her husband for not being a fan. stages elaborate christmas photos with a different colour theme every year. wore a white dress with turquoise louboutins and chanel bag to match nico's race suit in one of the most iconic and yet deeply underappreciated wag moments in f1 history. ruined them with champagne but didn't care. wants her children to be happy. definitely pegs her husband.

most interesting motorsport family of all time. forget dts, i just want to know about them

[willowsnook]

princess (18+)

request from @anyarhancock Bacon, tomato, rye, with mikes way - I’m begging you to make it HOT

lando norris x quadrant!reader

My heart is only yours to break

—----------------------------------------------

When you got a call from Max Fewtrell asking if you were interested in being a Quadrant athlete, you were hesitant. With the battle for the Women’s Snowboarding World Championship heating up, you weren’t sure you had time to commit to something else. It ended up being your friend Keegan who convinced you; he had been one of their athletes for a while now and loved it. He knew you’d be the perfect fit. 

A month after signing the contract, you did some shoots with them, and they started to sponsor you, vlogging some halfpipe events. You’d met most of the team so far besides Lando Norris, who was the CEO. Being a professional athlete, there was a lot of gossip in the “industry,” and a lot of it painted him as a young playboy who needed an attitude check. Keegan was practically in love with the man, so you had hoped it wasn’t true, but your first interaction said it all. 

After flying from the US to London for a team meeting, you were talking with Max about an upcoming competition when Lando finally made an appearance. He was supposed to be there hours ago but was just now showing up, sunglasses on, and clearly hungover. 

“Hey mate,” Max said with a smile you knew was masking his irritation. “I don’t think you’ve met y/n yet.” 

“Hi,” you said, sticking your hand out. Lando mumbled a greeting before leaving your hand stretched out to go to where the coffee machine was. You gave Max a look, and he tried to smooth it over. 

“He’s not always like that, I promise,” he reassured you. “He’s just going through some shit.”

“Yeah, like a whole bottle of vodka,” you muttered. Walking into the conference room, you sat next to Keegan, chatting about the upcoming Olympics he was competing at.

Ten minutes later, Max started the meeting and you followed along, listening to new ideas being thrown around and events that were coming up. 

“For the past couple of months, our content from competition vlogs has been doing the best, so we really want to keep that up,” Max said. “Y/n, great job so far; I'm excited to see what content you get in two weeks.”

“About that,” you started, carefully choosing your words. “That competition is a qualifier, so I really would like to be heads-down. I don’t think I’ll want to get any content for it.”

Keegan nodded in understanding beside you, his silent support reassuring you.  Max opened his mouth to respond, but Lando interrupted with a sharpness that sliced through the moment.

“You do know you signed a contract to create content for us,” he said, leaning forward slightly, his irritated tone matched by the flash in his eyes.

The room went uncomfortably silent. All eyes turned to you, but you met Lando’s gaze without flinching, your jaw tightening.

“I didn’t realize signing the contract meant I should prioritize this over my actual career,” you replied, your voice cold and steady. “You know, the one that caught your attention in the first place.”

A flicker of something—was it guilt?—crossed Max’s face, but Lando didn’t back down. If anything, his expression hardened.

“It wasn’t my attention you caught,” he shot back, his words laced with an edge that made Max wince beside him.

You let out a humorless laugh, shaking your head slightly. “Of course not. It’s pretty clear who makes the decisions around here.” Your eyes flicked pointedly between Lando and Max, the tension crackling like static electricity.

Lando’s jaw tightened, his posture stiffening, but it was Max who tried to step in, his voice soft yet firm. “Guys, come on, let’s not—”

“No,” you cut him off, keeping your gaze locked on Lando. “Let’s not pretend this is something it’s not. I agreed to collaborate, not to give up everything that matters to me. If that’s a problem, maybe we should reevaluate this entire arrangement.”

Keegan shifted uncomfortably beside you, unsure whether to intervene or let you hold your ground. Max glanced between you and Lando, his expression torn.

Lando’s lips parted as if to retort, but whatever he was about to say got swallowed by the weight of your words. For a moment, it seemed like he might actually relent—but instead, he pushed back his chair abruptly, the screeching sound echoing in the room as he stood.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice low but simmering with frustration. “Do whatever you want.”

He strode out of the room without another glance, leaving behind an awkward silence that hung heavy in his wake.

“Y/n, that’s fine. Don’t worry about filming,” he said, and you smiled appreciatively at him. “Let’s take a little break.”

You stormed out of the room, Keegan hot on your tail as you bypassed the place's amenities and headed straight outside. 

“Y/n, wait up,” Keegan called out to you, and you whirled at him. 

“You got me involved in this shit,” you yelled at him. “You know how much pressure I’m under! This was supposed to be fun and a mission I could get behind. I don’t need to work for an asshole.” 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry about today,” Keegan said, and your anger faded at his wounded puppy dog face. “He had a bad race last week and isn’t doing well.”

“So it’s been said,” you replied. “I have bad runs too, but you don’t see me being a dick to people I don’t even know.” 

Meanwhile, Lando was scrolling his phone, still stewing outside of the room. 

“Wel,l that went great bud, thanks,” Max said sarcastically, approaching him. 

“I don’t like her,” Lando said, not looking up from his phone. 

“You made that pretty clear,” Max shot back. 

“She’s cocky, rude, and not the kind of person I envisioned representing this company,” He said, finally looking up to Max, who just rolled his eyes. 

“She’s the same amount of cocky as you are and I don’t care; we can’t get rid of her.”

“Why not?” Lando questioned. 

“She has brought in twice as much money as anyone else here,” Max told him. “Look, I get it’s different. She’s bigger than anyone else we’ve signed, which means she gets more leeway with us; that’s just the nature of the business.”

“How has she even brought that much business?” Lando complained. 

“Same thing as you, but with guys,” Max said, and Lando looked at him confused. “Dude, you know she’s hot. Just like you have a million fan girls who buy our merch and support us, she has a million fanboys. It’s just how it goes.” 

“Well, I don’t like it,” Lando muttered. 

“You don’t have to like it,” Max retorted. “But if you’re going to be an asshole to her, I think it’s best that you just stay away. 

—-------------a month later---------------------

Putting the finishing touches on your outfit, you did a little spin for yourself, admiring your work. Your friend Bella giggled beside you, watching you check yourself out.

You were staying with her in London and meeting up with some of her friends at a club tonight to party before you had to head back to reality in a couple of days. 

Your season had a month-long break, and you had spent most of it travelling snowboarding in pretty places that you hadn’t been to before. At the end of the break, you flew out to see Bella and to cosplay being a normal person for a week. You and Bella had grown up together, and she moved overseas for college and never went back. 

Bella made you take a million pictures in the mirror before the two of you finally headed down to get an Uber to a new club you were going to. The line by the door was a mile long, and you sighed, not enjoying this part of a normal lifestyle. But fate was in your favor; as you stepped out, one of the doormen caught sight of you and recognized you instantly. He waved both of you over, much to the annoyance of the people in line. 

“Are you y/n, y/l/n?” He asked, and you nodded. He was around your age and very cute, so you gave him your best smile. “I’m a big fan; you’ve got the championship in the bag.” 

“Thank you, I sure hope so,” you replied warmly. 

“You two can come in right through here,” he said, gesturing for you to move through. You kissed his cheek as a thank you, and he flushed red; you could hear his fellow doorman chirping him as you walked away. 

“It is very irritating how many men trip over their feet for you,” Bella grumbled from next to you.

“Would you rather us wait in that line?” You teased, and she sighed. 

“No.”

“If it makes you feel better, it gets old,” you told her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“All these guys want me because they think I’m hot and know I’m rich,” you told her. “They want me because I’d look pretty on their arm, nothing more.” 

“Only you would find a way to complain about attention like that,” she joked, and you laughed. Her friends were at a table insid,e and you joined them, greeting the ones you already knew. You got bottle service for the table, you’d use your money on the girls anytime, and you started to let loose. 

Many drinks later, your bottle service was up, and you found yourself waiting by the bar to get a drink. 

“I think I owe you a drink,” a voice murmured in your ear, smooth and self-assured. You turned, already bracing yourself, to see Lando standing behind you. He looked annoyingly good in his all-black outfit, the tailored fit highlighting every inch of his confidence. But the memory of your last encounter simmered beneath the surface, and your annoyance returned in full force.

“I think I’m good,” you replied flatly, turning back to the bar without giving him a second glance.

Undeterred, he slid into the spot next to you, close enough that his cologne's subtle, expensive scent filled the air. You hated how much you noticed it.

“Don’t be like that,” he coaxed, his voice light but carrying a hint of challenge. His eyes drifted down your figure, unapologetically lingering at your chest before flicking back to your face with a smirk.

You scoffed, narrowing your eyes. “You do realize I’m not one of your usual girls who’ll fall at their feet for you, right?”

His jaw tightened, but the corner of his mouth curved in a sly grin. “And you realize I’m not one of your usual guys who’ll let you walk all over them, right?”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the amused twitch at your lips. “Trust me, I’ve met guys like you before. All charm, no substance.”

“Funny,” he shot back, leaning casually against the bar. “I was about to say the same about you. Except, in your case, all bark, no bite."

You turned to him fully this time, your eyes flashing. “Careful, Lando. Push too hard, and you might get bit”

His grin widened, and for a second, you weren’t sure if he was irritated or impressed. “Big words,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken. “But I’m not convinced.”

Before you could respond, you were interrupted by someone saying your name. 

“Y/n, is that you?” 

You froze as you turned around to see your ex-best friend staring back at you, a look you knew to be fake on her face. 

“In the flesh,” you replied, a tight smile on your face. The last time you had seen her, she was at your door, crying her eyes out about how her sleeping with your boyfriend was a mistake and that she couldn’t lose you. That was two years ago. The bartender interrupted her next words and she turned to order a drink. You quickly reached behind to grab Lando’s arm, pulling it to wrap around your waist. He stiffened at the contact, but Sophie turned back, eyes catching his arm placement, and he understood. 

“How have you been?” She asked, taking a sip of her old-fashioned and wincing, which made you smirk. She only ordered those to impress guys she wanted, even though she hated the taste. 

“I’ve been good, busy,” you said, not wanting to give her anything more to work with. Lando bowed his head to rest on your shoulder as he eyed this girl. He liked her even less than he liked you.

“And who might this be?” She asked, and you smirked. You knew she followed Formula 1, and you were proud of yourself for thinking so fast on your feet. 

“This is my boyfriend, Lando,” you said, and you felt his grip tighten against you. 

“Nice to meet you,” he offered and Sophie beamed. 

“How long have you been together?” She asked, and you started to answer but Lando beat you. 

“Just a couple of months,” he started. “I saw that video of her face-planting during one of her events and knew I just had to have her.”

You could tell he was enjoying this, but your elbow into his side was instinctive. 

“Ope, sorry babe, are you okay?” You asked innocently as he rubbed his ribs.

“All good, princess,” he said, smirking and your smile tightened at the ridiculous pet name. 

“You should really come visit us sometime,” Sophie said and you visibly stiffened at the mention of “us” which didn’t go unnoticed by either of them. 

“I don’t think so,” you said sharply, and Sophie rolled her eyes. 

“When are you going to get over that? I miss you,” she complained and you laughed. You genuinely could not believe what you were hearing. 

“Are you serious?” You asked incredulously. 

“Yes!” She exclaimed. “Look, you weren’t a good girlfriend to him, and that’s okay. You just couldn’t help outshining him all the tim,e but he forgives you.” 

“It’s hard not to outshine someone who’s a fucking loser,” you snapped, and she flinched. “Let me tell you the same thing I told you 2 years ago: don’t say my name. Don’t call me. Don’t talk about me. My life became so much better once I cleaned the shit from it.” 

Lando snorted from behind you while Sophie’s jaw dropped. You turned, dragging Lando with you back towards your friends. 

“Friend of yours?” He said with an amused smile on his face. 

“Something like that,” you responded, rolling your eyes. Lando had come with Max, who you saw chatting with Bella at the table. 

“Y/n!” He yelled as he saw you. He hugged you, and you gave him a big smile. “Has Lando been forgiven yet?” 

“I pretended to be her boyfriend in front of this random girl, so I think so,” Lando replied and Bella gave you a look. 

“Sophie,” you told her, her nose scrunched up. 

“Ew.” 

The drinks kept flowing and the night became very hazy. The last thing you remember was dancing with someone very inappropriately before the world faded. 

Groaning as you came back to the world the next morning you tried to sit up but were restricted from something weighing you down. Opening your eyes, you saw an arm wrapped tightly around your naked waist, holding you down to the bed. Eyes traveling up his body, you wanted to cry the second you saw that curly hair. 

“NO!” You yelled, throwing your hands to your face. Lando jolted awake, searching the room for whatever caused you to yell before glaring at you. 

“Will you shut the fuck up? I have a headache,” he complained, and you moved your hands to his neck to strangle him. He pulled your hands off, holding them down on the bed while hovering above you.

“If you wanted round two, all you had to do was ask,” he said wickedly, and you groaned. 

“Tell me this is a nightmare, and I just need to wake up,” you begged and his smirk widened. 

“You weren’t saying that last night,” he teased. 

“Moment of weakness,” you groaned and he scoffed. “Did we actually have sex?” 

“Afraid so, princess, not my best performance, though, considering you forced multiple tequila shots down my throat before we left the club,” he admitted. 

“Good thing I don’t remember it then,” you said, slipping out of bed. The soreness between your thighs meant that it still was probably above average but you weren’t going to say that. Lando’s eyes tracked you as you made it to the bathroom, and he felt himself starting to get hard again. Squeezing his eyes shut he laid back on the bed, trying to think of anything besides you being naked in the shower. 

You came out five minutes later, not bothering to hide your body from him. You looked through his suitcase and pulled out a quadrant hoodie to pull over your head, along with some boxers that would look perfect for your walk of shame home. Everything Lando did to distract himself went out the window as he stared at you in his clothes. 

Your eyes flickered to the rising tent under the covers and you smirked. 

“Something wrong baby?” You teased, and his cheeks blushed. 

“Don’t be a tease,” he muttered, but his hand slipped under the blanket and you took a step closer. He pushed the comforter back and your eyes widened at the size of his cock but you quickly masked it with indifference. 

“So this is what I got to see last night,” you said, bringing your fingertips to trace the base to his tip. Lando let out a deep breath, shutting his eyes while trying to control his breathing. “Did me showering get you worked up?”

He didn’t respond but you swiped your thumb over his tip, pressing gently, causing him to groan. 

“Maybe just a little taste before I leave,” you teased and his eyes shot open, his hips involuntarily bucking up. Leaning down you stuck your tongue out, tasting his precum and swirling it around his head. 

“Fuck,” he growled. “Please give me more.”

You took him completely in your mouth and to the back of your throat before pulling off with a pop. 

“Too bad,” you said. “See you around Norris.”

With that, you got up and grabbed your purse, heading out of the hotel. He was too stunned to say anything. 

—----------a month later-------------------

You were coming off a bad competition weekend when Max called you, begging you to fly to Vegas for the F1 race. He wanted to film some content and had the perfect idea. 

A hot lap between you and Lando. 

You only agreed because you felt bad about producing less individual content as your season ramped up. Max assured you it was fine a million times, but Lando’s original comments were still in your mind. 

So here you were on a Wednesday afternoon at the track, fiddling nervously while Max set up the camera in the car. Lando strolled out of the garage, dressed down in sweats and a McLaren sweatshirt, and you shoved the image of what you knew he looked like under those clothes far out of your mind. 

The roar of the engine echoed through the garage as you tugged the helmet over your head. Lando was leaning against the McLaren, his trademark smirk plastered across his face as he watched you strap yourself in.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, his voice dripping with faux concern. “It’s not a Sunday drive, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, climbing into the passenger seat. “Please, Lando. I think I can handle a little speed.”

“A little speed?” He laughed, sliding into the driver’s seat with a flourish. “Oh, you’re in for a surprise.”

The car rumbled to life as he revved the engine, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Last chance to back out. I won’t judge you—much.”

You shot him a confident smile, adjusting your grip on the straps. “I’m not the one who’s going to be scared, Lando.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “We’ll see about that.”

The moment the car hit the track, the world blurred into a dizzying streak of color. Lando threw the car into turn after turn with expert precision, the g-force pressing you back against the seat. But instead of the scream he was clearly waiting for, you let out a laugh—loud and exhilarated.

“This is amazing!” you yelled over the roar of the engine, your grin wide and infectious.

Lando’s head snapped toward you, a flicker of disbelief in his eyes. “You’re enjoying this?”

“Are you kidding? Go faster!” you challenged, your laughter echoing in the small cabin.

“Faster?” he repeated, shaking his head in mock offense. “You’re supposed to be clinging to the seat, not cheering me on!”

“Maybe you’re not as intimidating as you think,” you teased, shooting him a sideways glance.

His jaw dropped, though he quickly masked it with a smirk. “Alright, then. Let’s see if you’re still smiling after this.”

He floored it, the car screaming down the straight before diving into a hairpin turn. Instead of shrinking back, you leaned into the experience, your excitement only growing.

As the lap came to an end, Lando pulled into the pit lane, cutting the engine with a flourish. He turned to you, still grinning, but there was a hint of something else—admiration, maybe—in his gaze.

“You’re full of surprises,” he admitted, pulling off his helmet and running a hand through his tousled hair.

You shrugged, unbuckling your harness. “You’re not the only one who likes living on the edge.”

He leaned in slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “Careful, you keep talking like that, and I might start to like you.”

You laughed, stepping out of the car. “Who says you don’t already?”

Max stood by, watching the interaction between the two of you. He had known his best friend long enough to know what the look on his face meant as he watched you walk away. 

“I don’t like her, Max, she’s cocky and rude,” he fake imitated Lando, mocking his earlier words. “And look at you now: smitten.”

Lando scoffed, “I’m not smitten. We are just friendlier than we were.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” Max said, grinning. “You like that she isn’t falling at your feet.” 

Lando didn’t say anything, but they both knew he was right. 

—------a month later------------

To celebrate the end of the year, Quadrant had gotten a massive Airbnb cabin in Vail, and you were very excited, especially since you hadn’t seen Keegan in a while. Also, you could use some relaxing snowboarding. The championship was in a month and would come down to that last run between you and one of your competitors. 

It was almost blizzarding when you landed, but you were just thankful that your flight hadn’t been delayed. Finding an Uber took forever due to the weather, but finally, a brave soul in a very big truck picked you up. You dragged your suitcase through the snow and quickly punched in the code Max had sent you opening the door. 

Lando padded into the entryway, amused at your snowy state. You flipped him off in greeting, but he ignored it, picking up one of your bags to help carry to your room. 

“I have some bad new,s princess,” he said as you reached the room he had apparently picked out for you. 

“Stop calling me that,” you replied.

He ignored you, “you were the last flight in. Everyone else has been delayed until Wednesday.” 

“You’re joking,” you said in disbelief. That was in two days. 

He flopped onto your bed, giving you a wide grin. “Just you and me.” 

The two of you did not exchange a word for the next 24 hours. Lando mainly stayed in his room streaming with Max, and you wandered around the cabi,n switching from reading to watching trashy TV. It was actually kind of nice. You made dinner the first night, leaving some for Lando, which he texted you to say thank you for, but other than that you stayed out of each other's way. 

Tuesday evening, you were engrossed in your book, a hockey romance, which made you flustered. Usually, you’d be at home so you had access to your vibrator when reading a book as filthy as this one, so now you were suffering. 

Closing the book, you headed upstairs and to your bedroom. You passed the bathroom that Lando was currently showering in but noises coming from inside had you stopping. Pressing your ear to the door, it sounded like he was whimpering but not like crying. After he let out a string of curses and groans of frustratio,n you realized what he was doing. 

Debating what to do for a couple of seconds, you turned the handle and opened the door. Lando heard you enter and poked his head out from behind the curtain. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked, but you didn’t answer; you just pulled your shirt over your head, and his eyes widened as he watched you strip. Once you were naked, you moved to the shower and he reached out a hand to help you in. He didn’t say anything; he just waited for you to make the next move. 

“I’m going crazy in this house,” you said. “So all I’ve been doing is reading romance novels, and I need some kind of relief. I’ll help you out if you help me out. Nothing more, nothing less.” 

He smirked and started to reply, but you held your fingers to his lips. 

“No talking,” you said, Lando's breath hitched as you knelt before him, the warm water cascading over both of your bodies. Your eyes locked with his, a silent understanding passing between you. This was about release, nothing more.

You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his already hard length. He inhaled sharply at your touch, his hips involuntarily jerking forward. Slowly, you began to stroke him, feeling him throb in your hand.

Lando's head fell back against the shower wall, his eyes fluttering closed as you worked him. His hands clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to tangle in your wet hair. You leaned in, your breath hot on his skin, before taking him into your mouth.

A low groan escaped Lando's lips as you swirled your tongue around him. Your free hand gripped his thigh, steadying yourself as you began to bob up and down on his cock, making sure that your tongue kept moving. 

"Oh god," he moaned, breaking your no-talking rule. But you were too caught up in the moment to chastise him. He started moving his hips faster, his hands wrapped in your hair. You gagged around him and his hips started to stutter as he spilled down your throat. 

He pulled you up, wincing as you gave his cock one last squeeze. 

"My turn," he murmured, his hand sliding between your thighs.

You bit back a moan as his fingers found your most sensitive spots. The dual sensations of the hot water and his skin on yours sending you into a frenzy. 

His lips found your neck, kissing and nibbling as his fingers continued their relentless assault.

"God, you're so wet," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with renewed desire.

You bit your lip, trying to stay quiet as waves of pleasure washed over you. But when he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them just right, a moan escaped despite your best efforts.

Lando's other hand came up to cup your breast, thumb brushing over your hardened nipple. The dual stimulation was quickly pushing you towards the edge. Your hips rocked against his hand, chasing your release.

"That's it," he encouraged, increasing the pace of his fingers. "Let go for me princess.” 

Your body betrayed you when he called you that, and you were sent over the edge, clenching around him. Lando was in heaven watching you finish in front of him. Your eyes were squeezed shut, and your head was thrown back as you felt it all. 

You caught your breath, and Lando kept his hands on your waist to steady you. His eyes were still looking at you, filled with lust. Without a second thought, you crashed your lips to his and he pushed you up against the wall. Your lips fought angrily for dominance and it was filthy. 

“I want to remember this time,” you said, pulling back from his mouth. 

He grinned, “Oh, you’ll remember.” 

Grabbing your right leg, he lifted it so that he could line up with your entrance. His forehead rested against yours as he pushed in slowly, his mouth covering yours to swallow the sounds of discomfort you made. 

The water continued to pour over you both as Lando began to move, slowly at first, allowing you to adjust to the feeling of him inside you. His lips never left yours, swallowing every gasp and moan that escaped.

Your hands roamed his body, tracing the lines of his muscles, digging your nails into his back as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Lando's pace quickened, his hips snapping against yours with increasing urgency.

"Fuck," he groaned, breaking the kiss to bury his face in your neck. "You feel so good."

You wrapped your leg tighter around his waist, changing the angle slightly and causing you both to cry out in pleasure. The new position allowed him to hit deeper, and you could feel the familiar tension building in your core.

"I'm close," you panted, your fingers tangling in his wet curls.

“Hold on, princess,” he panted. “Wait for me.”

You whimpered as you struggled to hold off your orgasm, but Lando was soon growling in your ear to let go. You clenched tightly around him as your climax hit you, and that sent him with you. Animalistic groans were coming from him as he came hard inside of you, and it was so hot that you felt yourself starting to build up again. Lando caught his breath and noticed, bringing his thumb down to rub your clit, not pulling out of you. 

“One more for me baby. Can you do that?” He cooed. Your back was arched off the wall, supported by his arm as he held you upright. He brought his lips to nip at your neck before sucking harshly, and your third orgasm slammed into you. Your other leg gave out completely, but Lando quickly caught you, holding you up against him. Too fucked out, you could barely process anything going on. 

“Let me take care of you okay?” He whispered. He made sure you could stand on your own before grabbing the body wash and rubbing it all along your body, being extra careful on your sensitive areas. When you were done, he wrapped you up in a big towel and helped you out. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking at you intensely. You smiled weakly at him.

“Yes, just a little overstimulated,” you said, and a look of guilt flashed over his face. “It’s not your fault, Lando, I asked for it. Let’s get changed, and I’ll make dinner, yeah?” 

He nodde,d and you briefly went your separate ways. You made soup for dinner and ate together in a peaceful silenc,e followed by both of you cleaning up. 

“Is it cold in here to you?” He asked, breaking the silence. You thought about it for a second and realized it had started to feel colder over the past hour. 

“Will you check the thermostat?” You asked and he nodded, jogging away. He came back a few minutes later with a frown on his face. 

“I think the heater is fucked,” he said, and your eyes widened. 

“Lando!” You exclaimed. “It’s supposed to be like ten degrees tonight.” 

“We could start a fire?” He suggested. “I don’t know how to, though.”

You rolled your eyes, muttering that you did, and he followed you into the living room while you got the fireplace going. You decided to watch a movie by the bed so the two of you settled onto the couch, on opposite ends. There was definitely an awkward tension in the air after the shower and you spent most of the movie thinking about it. 

You decided that you let yourself get carried away because you were horny and Lando was hot. Lando was also thinking about it. He didn’t like you that much. But he knew he would be jerking off to that scene for the rest of his life. And he had been having a good time here with you anyway. 

When the movie ended, the heat still wasn’t on, and you told Lando that you would strip your bed and set up a makeshift bed in front of the fireplace. He did the same, and the two of you got comfy and tried to get warm. 

An hour passed, and you still couldn’t fall asleep, still shivering despite the pile of blankets. 

“Y/n?” Lando whispered, and you lifted your head to see him looking at you. 

“What’s up?” You asked sleepily. 

“Are you still cold?” 

“A little,” you admitted. He moved his blankets up and beckoned you over. 

“Come over here, please; more body heat will work.”

You knew he was right, so you crawled over to his space, nestling yourself into his arms, his chest against your back. 

“Are we good?” He murmured into your ear, and you turned your head to look at him. 

“We are never good Norris,” you bit back but with no bite. “But why do you think that more this time?”

“I feel like you just shut down from me after,” he said, vulnerability filling his voice. 

Pausing for a moment, you debated how much you were willing to admit. 

“It’s been a long time since I’ve felt like that,” you said softly. 

“Felt like what?” He asked, brows furrowing.

“Felt like I was safe,” you whispered, and his eyes softened. 

The last handful of hookups you had felt like performances you were expected to give. They were always with random guys you met who knew who you were and wanted the full y/n experience. It never felt like you could be truly comfortable like you were always on edge. But with Lando, you had completely let go. 

“Goodnight, princess,” he finally said, pressing his lips against your forehead. 

“Now, what do we have here,” a voice said from above, waking you up. You blinked open your eyes to see Max and his girlfriend standing above you, both grinning. 

“The heat went out,” Lando mumbled from behind you. His arms were still wrapped tightly around you and he buried his head into your shoulder to avoid the lights. 

Max gave a low chuckle, clearly enjoying the sight of you and Lando tangled together under a heap of blankets. His girlfriend nudged him, trying to stifle her own grin.

“The heat went out,” Lando repeated, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “And you’re way too loud for this early in the morning.”

“You’re just mad we caught you two all cozy,” Max teased, his grin widening. “Didn’t take you for the cuddly type, Norris.”

You groaned, pulling the blanket over your head in an attempt to escape the embarrassment. “Can we not do this right now?”

Max’s girlfriend finally stepped in, pulling him toward the door. “Alright, let’s give them a break. Besides, I’m freezing. Let’s see if anyone’s figured out how to fix the heat.”

As they left, you felt Lando shift behind you. “Well, that’s one way to start the morning,” he murmured, his voice still groggy but tinged with amusement.

You peeked out from under the blanket, turning slightly to look at him. “Thanks for the assist. I guess I owe you.”

He smirked, his face close to yours. “Oh, you definitely owe me. But I’ll let you make it up to me on the slopes later.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you still ended up in my arms,” he quipped, pulling the blanket tighter around the two of you.

The rest of the ski trip passed in a blur of snowy adventures, playful banter, and fleeting moments like this one—moments that made you question if there was something deeper between you and Lando. He was still his usual cocky self, but every now and then, there was a softness in his gaze or a quiet moment shared on the ski lift that made your heart skip a beat.

By the time the weekend ended and the cabin was warm again, you couldn’t deny it anymore: maybe, just maybe, there was something about Lando Norris that felt like home—even if you’d never admit it to his face.

—----------snowboarding world championship—------------------

You were fighting back tears in your eyes as you were handed the second-place trophy after a long day. You had done it all but still came up short, and you knew you should be happy to even finish in the top three, but the competitor inside demanded more. 

The whole Quadrant team had flown out to support you, and you put on your best performance for them, convincing them that you weren’t breaking down inside. They wanted to go to dinner to celebrate, but you made an excuse for being exhausted and promised to celebrate tomorrow. 

You let the tears fall freely once you were back in your room. You stood in the shower while you sobbed at the failure of a season, letting the water scald your back. When there were no tears left to cry, you changed into a big t-shirt before finding a comfort movie to put on. You had just settled in when you heard someone knocking on your door. Slipping out of bed, you opened the door to see Lando standing there, a bag of Taco Bell in his hands. 

“Oh, princess,” he said, seeing your puffy eyes. 

“It’s okay,” you said weakly, but he was already wrapping you in his arms. You comforted yourself in his arms, sighing deeply to collect yourself. 

“I brought dinner,” he said, and you smiled, looking at the bag. Taco Bell was your favorite cheat meal; Keegan must have told him. 

Retreating to your room, he followed you, kicking off his shoes before climbing onto the bed. You joined him, picking out what you wanted from the bag before handing it back to him. 

“It was quite the performance you gave today to everyone,” Lando said, and you rolled your eyes and sighed. 

“I didn’t want to kill the mood,” you said, and he looked at you sympathetically. It was quiet as you both ate and then settled into the bed. 

“When did it stop hurting?” You asked softly, and Lando tore his attention away from the movie so he could look back at you. 

“It still hurts,” he said. “But the hurt drives my goals for next season. And I’ve learned to focus more on everything I accomplished and be proud of that.” 

You let his words sink in, trying to find comfort in them. 

“But you don’t have to think about that until later,” Lando said. “Right now, you are allowed to be angry and sad. That makes you who you are.” 

You blinked back, fresh tears at his words, your chest tightening. “I just wanted it so badly,” you whispered, your voice cracking.

“I know,” Lando said softly, his hand reaching out to intertwine with yours. “That’s what makes you great, Y/N. You care so much. But you don’t have to carry it all tonight.”

The two of you fell into a companionable silence, the movie playing in the background. Lando shifted closer, draping his arm over your shoulders. For once, you didn’t pull away. Instead, you leaned into him, letting his warmth seep into the ache in your chest.

“Thanks for being here,” you murmured after a while, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Always,” he replied without hesitation, and you felt your heart flutter. It felt like everything clicked in that moment. What started as major dislike for the man lying next to you had turned into something else over the past couple of months. 

You thought back to the night in the cabin, how you felt in his arms like everything was right. And tonight, he was the only one who could see through you. 

“What’s on your mind, princess?” He asked, looking down at you. 

“I just realized something,” you said, and his full attention was now on you. 

“What’s that?” 

“When I heard someone knocking on my door tonight, I had hoped it would be you,” you admitted softly. Lando smiled down at you softly.

Lando's smile deepened, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He pulled you closer, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your shoulder.

"I'm glad it was me," he murmured, his voice low and warm. "I couldn't bear the thought of you being alone tonight."

You felt a rush of warmth in your chest, starkly contrasting to the hollow ache that had consumed you earlier. You shifted, turning to face him fully.

"Lando, I..." you started, then hesitated, unsure how to put your swirling emotions into words.

He waited patiently, his eyes never leaving yours. In them, you saw understanding, compassion, and something else—something that made your heart race.

"I think I'm falling for you," you finally whispered, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

For a moment, Lando was silent, but then he sat up and quickly pulled you up onto his lap. 

“My heart is only yours to break,” he told you, and you felt a warmth fill your body. 

The next day, the Quadrant team rallied around you, as chaotic and supportive as ever. Keegan teased you about your “Taco Bell therapy,” Max insisted on a group breakfast, and Lando made it his mission to annoy you into laughing. By the time you packed up to head home, the sting of second place hadn’t completely faded, but it felt more manageable.

You carried the lessons of the championship with you—every triumph, every misstep, every moment of self-doubt. And as you boarded the plane, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of determination spark within you.

Lando caught your eye from across the aisle and raised an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a smirk.

“Next season,” he mouthed, and you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.

The next season was yours to take.

[the-californicationist]

Cali's Kinktober: Day 13

Kinktober Masterlist pulvis et umbra sumus - "we are dust and shadow" TF141 x f!reader Kinks > monsters, knotting, ritual magic sex in a cave Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

Monster AU where the TF141 are gargoyles. You love your shitty 87th floor apartment, you really do. Sure, the view is mostly fog and smog and clouds, but your balcony is shielded by four awesome gargoyles. You spend long nights admiring their statuesque figures wishing they could come to life and please you since no human man seems to be able to. Be careful what you wish for, I guess?

Warning: short part with an abusive ex-boyfriend, but he gets gargoyled pretty quickly, so it's short-lived.

Rain pelted the grimy, floor-to-ceiling windows of your apartment. It seemed like it was always raining. You loved living downtown in District 10, you really did, but damn if it wasn’t hard to meet people. Sure, millions of people lived in the city right alongside you, but other than a few dates to the ramen shop around the corner, your attempts to find The One had fallen flat. 

It was the same song and dance. They’d ask what you did for a living, and if they stuck around after you told them that you were a professional streamer, they either thought you were rich or that you wanted to flash your pussy on camera for money. Either way, the only guys who stuck around after they made their judgements about your job were either disappointed by your shitty studio apartment or were terrible in the sack. Clearly, they just wanted an easy lay and never called you again. 

You didn’t really have anyone to complain to since your best friend abandoned you for Topeka, of all places, to get married and have a litter of babies. You were happy for her, truly, but bitching to a woman who was cherished by her man about your shitty Tinder dates was a dark, dark time that you didn’t care to have. 

So, you smoked, and you told your gargoyles all about it. 

Your apartment was unique in the fact that you had the entire patio to yourself, and it was shielded from the wind by the outstretched wings of four enormous gargoyles. They were huge, at least seven feet tall, and their bodies looked like they were ready to compete in the next strongman world championship. 

You’d named them all, of course. There was the spooky one with a skull-shaped mask over his face and huge fangs that you called Mr. Bones, one with a mohawk that you named Mr. T, a supermodel-hot statue that you named Mr. Vain, and your favorite one, the biggest of them all and the guardian that sat right next to your bed, Mr. Big.

That’s where you found yourself tonight. You were crouched in your usual spot, tucked in an oversized raincoat, a pair of wellies, and nothing else, smoking a cigarette under the protective wings of Mr. Big.

You watched the tip glow golden bright as you took a drag, holding it in longer than normal, hoping to feel something other than disappointed. 

“He was such a jerk, Big. Didn’t even bring a condom. Not sure someone with a dick that small should have that sort of audacity, ya know?”

Mr. Big didn’t reply. He looked out over the dense, foggy night and shielded you from the rain, keeping you dry while you smoked.

You leaned against his chest as he crouched over you, raking your eyes over his body with more appraisal than you usually did, confessing aloud,

“I bet you’ve got cock for days under that loincloth. And I bet you’d pay for a babe’s dinner. Maybe even buy her a strawberry shake afterwards. Bet you wouldn’t ask to come up; you’d just wait to be invited. And I bet you’d bring your own damn condoms to a third date, huh?”

He loomed. You sighed,

“Yeah, I know you would. You know what?”

At that very moment, you gazed up into the sky as the clouds shifted and cleared, revealing a heavy, orange harvest moon. You spotted a streak of falling stars out of the corner of your eye, and you watched as they crossed the moon’s body, falling towards earth, burning up a million miles away, and you said,

“I wish you guys were real.”

You watched the stars vanish over the horizon, and you took one last drag off of your cigarette, flinging it off the side like a nasty little gremlin, not caring where it landed or what catastrophe you had just contributed to. This whole world was fucked. What was one more cigarette butt, right?

“But, you’re not real, Mr. Big. Maybe one day you’ll wake up and come save me from this damn carousel of nightmares. You and your buddies could fly me around, give me a mindblowing fuck, and steal me away from here. Wouldn’t that be something?”

You stood up next to him, barely tall enough to reach his face even though he was crouched over. You caressed his cheek, wiping the raindrops from his brow, and lifted yourself up to kiss him on the corner of his bearded mouth, right where his fang protruded from the lip, round and sharp like a boar’s tusk.

“Goodnight, Mr. Big. See you in the morning.”

You toweled dry as you stepped through the window, using the same old towel you’d been using all week, making a mental note to get around to the laundry. Then, you snuggled under the covers, checking your notifications and getting upset that there weren’t more (even though you’d just checked them before you went out to smoke). Maybe you would have to start flashing your tits online if you wanted to make the real bucks.  

You flipped your phone over and went to sleep, begging your brain to give you filthy gargoyle dreams. 

Once dawn’s glow yanked you from your peaceful slumber, you’d forgotten all about why you’d been so sad. You forgot about Dan, or David (Darren?), whatever his name was. You hopped online and said hi to your early birds, fitting the headphones over your ears just to let them know you’d be back in a bit. Then, you had a quick shower, ducked out for half of a smoke, and got to work. 

The day turned into night, and everything was great. The games were fun, chat was a riot, and you even got raided by one of your favorite mutuals. You ordered some takeout and video-chatted with some friends. You even hopped on the stream again for a double feature. All the darkness from the night before was lifted, and you felt like you might be alright. But, then, just as the sun was setting, you got a text. 

donny-Hinge: hey babe. left my charger. can i come by in 15

you: sure

donny-Hinge: k thx

“Ugh!” You audibly exclaimed, forgetting you were still online.

Chat started pouring in with questions and asks about the text. Tell us! They exclaimed. What happened, momma?? They begged to know. 

You thought about it for a minute, but you decided that your shitty love life was one thing you weren’t ready to own up to online, so you side-stepped, 

“Forgot I had to take a friend to the airport. Gotta cut this short tonight, sorry. Love you guys! Don’t forget to live, laugh, love, like, share, sub!” You rolled your eyes at your own catchphrase and waved goodbye. 

You flung down your headset and did a few soothing spins in your computer chair before deciding that you needed to kick this dude to the curb. 

“What’s the sluttiest outfit I’ve got so this asshole knows what he’s missing?” You asked Mr. Vain who was sitting outside your bathroom window, looking bored. 

“Coachella last year?” You dug around in the drawer and pulled out the too-short, can’t-wear-this-in-public slip dress, looking at Mr. Vain one last time before nodding, “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

You wiggled into the fit, mangled up your hair into a careless rumpled mess, and threw on some eyeliner to top it all off. Then, you waited. You checked your phone. You waited again. You paced. Then, you had a smoke to try and calm your nerves. 

You huddled next to Mr. Big’s giant forearm and looked up at his bearded jaws from below,

“Still not real, huh? I could really use a big, scary beast for some support right now. Why does breaking up with losers still feel so shitty? He doesn’t deserve me, right?”

Mr. Big said nothing. He loomed, and nothing more. 

“Right,” you whispered, starting to worry about yourself now that you were carrying on multiple daily conversations with statues. 

Your door buzzed. Dumbo was here for his charger. 

You fixed yourself, checking your eyeliner for just the perfect amount of smudge, and then you cracked open the door. The man was there, looking a little too well-dressed, and he sauntered into your apartment without saying so much as a hello. 

“Uh, hi,” you spat. 

“Hey, sorry,” he frowned, looking around for the charger under your clothes pile, “Can’t stay. Gonna meet up with the boys at Six Hands tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, feeling a little more than just put out. 

“Ah, here it is,” he dragged the charger out from under your desk and wrapped it up. 

“I don’t wanna see you again,” you blurted out. 

He looked up at you, noticing you for the first time, eyeing your dress and your makeup, furrowing his brow,

“Why not? Didn’t you have fun last night?” 

You didn’t like his sly tone,

“No, so just, lose my number, okay?”

“C’mon, baby. Don’t be like that,” he stepped into your space and put your hair behind your ear. You fucking hated when guys tucked your hair behind your ear. 

You smacked his hand away, 

“Don’t touch me. Just go.”

“Is that why you’re dressed like a fuckin’ slut? You gonna call some other guy up here?” His contempt filled the room, making your alarm bells clatter and peal inside of your head. 

“No. Leave! Now.”

“Listen,” he took another step into your space, dragging his finger under the strap of your dress and purposefully letting it fall off of your shoulder, “How about you drop the attitude and let me hit it before I go out, and I’ll come back tonight and we can watch a movie.”

You used both hands to shove him away from you, hating how little he moved backwards,

“Fuck you! Get out of my house.”

“You don’t have to be such a bitch!” He shouted at you, grabbing you around the wrist and knocking you off balance. 

Then, all of a sudden, he stopped. His face became even paler than it already was, and he stared out of the window behind you. He scrambled to drop your wrist and bolted for the door, not even bothering to shut it behind him. 

“Yeah! You shouted after him, fixing your shoulder strap, “Get the hell out and don’t come back!”

You shut the door and locked the top and bottom deadbolts, upset with yourself for how badly you were shaking. 

“What an asshole,” you muttered under your breath as you turned around. Then, you looked up, and that’s when you saw him.

“Mr. Big?!”

The giant, hulking gargoyle that you sat by every night was standing, full height, right outside your window. He used his immense paw to open the window and stepped through it, staring right at you with unnaturally blue eyes. He was still not a human color, but at least he wasn’t made of stone. His flesh was textured, sort of scaled in a way, and hairline cracks that looked like scars covered him like a broken eggshell. His hair and beard were shaggy and brown, and even though he was enormous, he was graceful, tucking his black wings behind his back to keep from knocking over all of your shelves. 

“Are you alright, love?” His voice came out like a roaring, tumbling sea, and yet, it was as gentle as a purr. 

“I… This… You! You are! You’re… you’re a statue! How…” You backed away from him, and he did not pursue you. He simply stood there, focused on you, patiently letting you figure it out, “You’re Mr. Big, and you’re in my damn house!”

“I am John. We come when our mate calls to us.”

“What? John? No,” you sat on the bed, wrenching your eyes shut, “This isn’t happening. Fuck, I actually am out of my mind. I don’t have insurance. I can’t afford fucking gargoyle visions. Fuck!”

You heard the flutter of wings and your eyes darted up to see Mr. T and Mr. Bones squeezing themselves into your tiny home,

John nodded to them,

“This is Soap and Ghost. Your memories will return to you, my love,” he turned to address them, “Did you find him?”

Ghost let out a dark chuckle full of fire and brimstone, 

“Aye, he screamed like a fuckin’ pussy.”

“Who?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

Soap answered you in a surprisingly smooth brogue, 

“Your wee suitor, lass. Tried to run, but he couldnae get very far.”

“Did…” You felt your blood rush out of your body, “Did you kill him?”

Ghost, his skin a steely gray with black cracks running across his flesh, his wings a bony ash color and splotched with tears and scars, his eyes an impossible hazel shade, gleaming behind the huge skull mask, stalked over to you, crouching down to look at you closer, studying you. Then, he took his clawed hand and untucked the hair from behind your ear, lifting your locks to his fearsome muzzle to smell your shampoo. He smiled (you weren’t exactly sure if it was a smile or not), and said,

“Would you like me to? Because, right now, he’s hanging off the side of a fuckin’ tanker ship headed for the bloody south Pacific. He’d be easy to capture and –”

“No! No,” you shook your head, “Thank you. That’s… that is a great spot for him. Alive.”

“You must have questions, pet,” a fourth voice spoke over your shoulder, startling you and making you jump out of your skin, “Surely you must remember me; your Gaz, your favorite.”  

It was Mr. Vain. The others gave him a glare for his comment, but he did have a way of stealing the show. His skin was a shimmering copper, and golden cracks cut through his flesh. His wings were an iridescent green patina, and his eyes were a deep brown. He was every bit as beautiful in real life as he’d been as a statue, and you had a hard time looking away from him. 

“I’m…” You tried to ask something. Anything. You should have questions, right? Normal people would have questions. Finally, you whispered, “What is happening to me?”

John came to crouch beside you, his thick tail curling around his feet, tucking itself out of the way, and he dropped his voice into that deep purr of his,

“You called us here, love. You needed us, and we were awakened. We have listened to your struggles. For years we have kept you safe in this…” He looked around with a frown of disapproval, “... bloody meager estate, waiting for the night you would bring us back to this plane of existence to mate with you and take you home to claim your rightful place on the throne of Evenhold. Your people need you. We need you. You are the last hope for our kind.”

You listened to him and tried your best to keep a straight face,

“You have got to be fucking with me right now. This is not real. You are not real!”

To your shock, instead of doubling down, he looked hurt by your comments. His eyes peered down at you as if he wanted to make you see the truth, like he wanted to convince you of his words, but he held himself back. 

Soap came over to you, his pale flesh gleaming like a pearl under the moonlight, the cracks of his skin a cerulean blue, and his wings fading from navy to black at the very tips, 

“Bonnie, I ken how it sounds. But, you didnae meet your mother nor your father, aye?”

“No, I grew up with my Grandma Val–”

“Valeria, the Witch of the Four Winds,” Soap confirmed, sitting down beside Ghost, “She protected you until her death. So, you came here, to this city, and –”

“And this apartment… the deal was so good, I couldn’t pass it up,” your brain was reaching around in the dark, looking for the light. It was making your head spin. 

“Did you never wonder how you could afford it, lass? Didnae you remember Darkhollow? The River Binn? Everhold Keep? We ran together as rooks through the halls, stealing burchfruit from the ta–”

John cut him off, his eyes studying you in the darkness,

“Enough. Sorcerer Cael stole her memories the same night he fuckin’ murdered the Emperor and the Empress. She knows nothing of home. But, we can help her remember.”

You reached out to him, touching his cheek in such a familiar way, and yet, experiencing it anew,

“How?”

“We will take you as our mate. Through our magic, you can use our memories to rebuild what you’ve lost,” John cupped your hand in his huge paw, bringing it to his fanged mouth, and kissing your palm reverently. 

“We know that you have been…” Gaz smirked, “... disappointed by suitors in this realm. But, we will help you remember the kind of mate the Empress of Evenhold deserves.” 

“Trust us, lass,” Soap lifted your chin up to look into your face, “We will set things right. We’ll take you home.”

Ghost crawled beside you on the bed, and the mattress dipped beneath his heavy frame, 

“You are our guiding star, love. We’ll do whatever you ask of us. If you want us to leave, we fuckin’ will. Just say the word, and you’ll never see us again.”

At his oath, you felt something twist in your heart. No! That was wrong. You belonged together. These were your protectors. You needed them as much as they needed you.

“No. You belong with me,” you said, planting a soft kiss on the side of Ghost’s mask, “Help me remember.”

“We won’t be back here, love. Are you sure you’re ready to go?” John asked you, standing at full height. 

The others stood with him, waiting for your word. 

You thought about checking your phone, or putting an away message up on your profiles, but what would be the reason? If you wouldn’t be back here, you’d just disappear. You’d fade away from memory just like any other streamer who logged on for the last time and never came back. It happened all the time. Your parents were dead, you didn’t have any family, and your friend would be okay without you. What was keeping you here?

“Let me wash my face, and then we’ll go,” you said, ducking into the bathroom to braid your hair out of your face and wash the eyeliner off of your eyes. You looked at yourself in the mirror, and for the first time in a long while, you enjoyed looking at the person that you saw. You looked brave. You looked ready. You looked like you were about to have the ride of your fuckin’ life. 

You slid an extra hair tie around your wrist and met the gargoyle army in your bedroom. 

“Okay, I’m ready for the magic mating ritual, I think. Do you wanna do it here, or…”

“No, love,” John chuckled warmly, “We’ll take you to the portal. Your power will ignite the beacon.” 

“Where is that?” You asked, feeling a little deflated. 

“Far from here. C’mon, love. Need to beat the sun,” John grabbed your waist and held you against his chest. He wrapped his tail around your body protectively, and you watched in horror as the other three dove through the window, spreading their wings out over the midnight fog.

“Oh, fuck. Are we flying there? Holy shit! Wait, wait, wait…”

The next thing you knew, you were sailing through the air, gliding down from your bedroom window and out into the night sky. 

“It’s alright, love. Hold onto me,” John chuckled, amused by your panicked response. 

“Fuck!” You whispered, burying yourself in John’s broad chest, clutching at his waist as hard as you could.

You could feel the powerful beat of his wings as he gained altitude, the rush of wind subsiding when you emerged above the clouds, and the moon looked as if it hung close enough for you to grab it, bright and glowing in the black sky. 

You were breathing in rushed gasps, and you didn’t know if you should laugh or cry. John sensed your distress, and he held you tighter against his warm body.

“Shh,” he pet you gently, and you felt his claws trace delicate lines down your back. For some reason, it lulled you into a dazed state, and you thought you might pass out, “Sleep, pretty girl. I’ve got you.”

A few more minutes went by, and with each delicate pass of his claws, you watched the stars scatter above you, more and more of them coming into your view as you escaped from the city, and you closed your eyes and let your guardian take you away with him. 

When you awoke, you were still flying with John, but you were descending on a small hilltop.

“Where are we?” You asked in a low voice. 

John pointed below,

“The portal is here. I’ve sent the lads on ahead to prepare the ritual. We won’t beat the dawn unless we hurry.”

“What happens at dawn?”

“We turn to stone. You’ll be left unprotected.”

“Is that what these are?” You asked, tracing the cracked lines in his skin, “From where you broke free?”

“Yes,” John nodded, “We wear them with fuckin’ pride, love. We’re soldiers. It is our duty and our right to be your guardians.”

“In the… At home, do you turn to stone in the sunlight?”

He paused, and you wished you could hear his thoughts, but after a few moments he said, 

“No, only here.”

Something about his answer saddened you. You wanted to wipe all of that pain away from his face. You needed to see him in the light of day. To see him happy. You felt so strongly about it, and it made you wish that you had called for him sooner. 

“Could you hear me when you were frozen?”

“Yes, love,” he smiled, swooping his wings to land with you on the soft grass, “Every word.” 

He placed you down carefully, and as he did, he bent forward, wrapped his wings around you, and kissed you. You leaned into his touch, enveloped in his dark embrace, feeling the bristle of his beard and the fullness of his lips. He tasted like holiday spices and raw honey. His sweetness and heat blending together on your tongue and making you dizzy with want.  

“Tryin’ to get a head start, Captain?” Gaz’s voice rang out over your shoulder.

You were unfurled from John’s wings and released from his kiss, but he kept a possessive hand around your waist.

“Captain?” You turned to ask him what that meant. 

“We’re soldiers, remember? I’m the Captain of the Imperial Guard. My two sergeants,” he pointed to Gaz and Soap, “and my lieutenant,” he nodded to Ghost. 

“C’mere, love,” Ghost pulled you away from John and brought you over to the entrance of a large cave. 

The mouth of the cave was hidden behind vines and overgrowth, but you could barely make out the ancient carvings that were etched into the side of the round entrance. 

“This is the portal, lass. Your magic opens the door, and we can go home.”

“I don’t know how to do magic,” you looked at him for help. 

“We’ll show you. Let us help you remember, love,” John purred darkly behind you, joining you on the side opposite Ghost, taking your hand and guiding you into the cave. 

Once inside, you saw a large, flat altar, carved with runes and symbols, and all along the back wall of the cave were huge scenes of war and destruction, patterned in gold and silver and bronze etchings. In the images, you saw hordes of gargoyles fighting against an evil wizard who carried a long staff and cast fiery spells across villages and castles, destroying everything in his path. 

But, you couldn’t dwell on the images for long. Your warriors had other plans. John guided you to his arms once more, kissing you chastely this time, before untying his loincloth and revealing his unbelievable cock. 

When he saw the look on your face, his mouth stretched into a smug grin, and he pumped his wings, proudly beating them once and then twice to stir the air in the large cave, purring deep inside his chest. 

His dick wasn’t just large. It was impossible. There was no way that thing was going to fit inside of you without some sort of feat of strength. As the others disrobed, standing beside their leader, you saw how much of a challenge this venture truly was. 

Their cockheads were covered in layers of foreskin that lay across their head like the petals of a flower. They were thin and smooth, and it made the tip of their dick look like the head of a blooming rose. John had more petals than the others, while Gaz had only three or four, but his were large, like a drooping magnolia, hiding the fist-sized glans underneath.

The shaft of John’s cock was studded with smooth, marble-like protrusions, which, as he rubbed his hand over them, swelled and leaked, producing his own lubricant for him as he worked his phallus to a high, glossy shine. On the underside of the body, two soft bands of flesh hung down like lips on a mouth, creating a flared feature along the base of his cock. 

At the root of his shaft, John had a bulging, pulsing knot. It looked like it was throbbing with its own heartbeat, and it wrapped itself around his entire girthy base, making your mouth water.

Their physiology was as unique as it was inhuman. Gaz only had three marble protrusions, none of the soft bands on his undercarriage, but a hefty, engorged knot. Ghost’s cock was board-straight, covered in a chaotic mess of marble bumps, making his whole prick drip and drool onto the cave floor without him even needing to touch it. 

Soap was the only one who had pulled his petals down over his blunt cockhead to reveal it to you. It was bright pink and swollen, looking every bit like a smooth, silky peach. The large slit in the center held a bead of precome, ready to be smeared across either of your lips. His shaft was curved like a bow, and you noticed that the flared flesh at his base looked like a plush bed of fox coral, bending and furling like fine lace on the hem of a dress. 

“Our mate is pleased,” Gaz noted, sniffing the air and licking his fangs with a skillful tongue. 

You made your way over to John, eyeing Gaz as he tugged on his giant ballsack, fondling his heavy pearls and comforting himself as he admired you. John was breathing hard, his belly filling with air, his rolling purr growing louder as you got closer to him. 

You knelt on the soft dirt floor of the cave and began to lick and suck at the knot on the base of John’s cock. He growled, flapping his wings with excitement, 

“No, love,” he peered down at you, “Let us care for you.”

“I want to taste you,” you looked at the other beasts circling around you, casting long shadows over you with the shuddering wings, “All of you.”

“Your wish is our command, Empress,” Ghost snarled, fisting his cock in his claws and presenting it to you like a treat. 

You used both of your hands to rub his shaft, letting his silky lube collect in your palms and drip down your wrists. You began prying his soft petals apart with the tip of your tongue, discovering how sensitive they were. By the time you found his head, he was drooling wet for you, filling the center of his flower with clear, shining precome. You drank from him, sucking the sticky fluid like nectar from a buttercup, sighing when you found it sweet. 

John chuffed, impatient with his lieutenant for cutting the line, and you looked up at him and smiled, showing him your tongue as it dripped with Ghost’s wet promises. Then, you brought your attention back to your biggest guardian, taking care to use both hands to roll the flesh of his shaft up and down the hefty appendage. You let your thumb dip into his furled folds that ran along his base, and he hissed, instinctively using his paw to cradle the back of your head and encourage you further. 

You obeyed his silent command, using your lips to kiss inside of his crown of closed petals, slurping and drinking the sweet gift you discovered inside. As you kissed his cockhead, the fleshy flower surrounding his tip tickled your lips and nose and chin, spreading their honey over your whole face, coating you in him and his heady scent. 

Gaz reached down to touch your breast inside your dress, his huge claws tickling over the smoothness of your skin, making you gasp. 

“So fuckin’ bonnie, innit she?” Soap admired you, taking position on the other side to fondle and feel your other heavy teat, using his claws to draw aching spirals all the way up to your nipple.

You were fully suckling on John’s wide head, now. He was pouring clear, shining precome down your throat, and you were swallowing it into your belly as if it were his come. Then, Gaz took you from him, guiding your chin over to his hanging prick, smiling at you as you nuzzled it, handsfree, into your lips. His wide petals covered most of your face, spreading his slick over your cheeks and down your throat, sticking themselves to your skin. Then, Johnny took your hand and held it in his own, making you rub his curved length until he was trembling for you. You took turns sucking from them both, realizing that the more you sucked, the more delicious fluid they made. 

John petted your hair lovingly, drawing your attention away from his soldiers and back to him. You looked into his glowing blue eyes, mesmerized by his magic, and gave him your best doe-eyed face, hoping your hunter would take his shot. 

“The sun is nearly here, Empress. There will be plenty of nights to play together ahead of us, but we must open the portal.”

You rose to your feet, shocked by how small you were compared to the monsters that surrounded you, and let John lead you to the altar. He lifted you up and knelt down in front of you, using his long, blue tongue to lick his way up the side of your thigh. When he found your heat, his chest shook with a stifled roar, and he grabbed your hips in his paws to crush you to his face. Ghost stood beside him, peeling off your black slip dress to make you naked, and he and Gaz held your legs wide for their captain. Soap crawled upon the altar to feed his tongue into your mouth, fucking your throat in long, gentle licks just as John stuffed his into your warm pussy. 

Ghost and Gaz suckled from your breasts, pulling and plucking at your nipples in deep, vacuumed mouthfuls, making you feel like you were being eaten alive from the inside and the outside of your whole body. Your orgasm hit your body before your mind registered that you were coming. You jerked, arching your back and screaming out from the base of your throat, begging for mercy. 

Your gargoyles pet you with their claws in that same, somnolent way that John had while you were flying, and you felt yourself relax into your orgasm, riding it out in long, suffocating waves. 

“You are so tight, love,” John looked up from his eating, his eyes full of worry, “We’ll try to be gentle with you, but you will need many nights of training before you can carry our rooks. Your body will learn from us, in time. For now, your memories are all that matter.”

He stood, and the other gargoyles held you tightly, supporting you on the altar. John huffed out a long breath, spread his wings wide, and stepped forward to mount you. 

You watched his cock’s petals as they collided with your own, spreading himself all over you like a brush full of paint. He focused on your hole, smearing his hot precome as generously as he could. Then, he began to press forward. 

“Holy fuck! I can’t take it! I can’t… John… it’s not… mngh! Ohhhh…” You cried out in agony and then melted into a quiet bliss. 

As he entered you, the other three pet you with their paws, soothing you and helping you catch your breath. 

Then, when you took his entire head, he rested at your entrance, waiting for you to come back around.

“John, what the fuck? I’m not built for your dick. How…?” You looked up at him, pleading for some relief. 

“You’re doing so good for us, love,” Gaz licked and kissed your neck and breast, suckling on you to calm you down.

“You can take him,” Ghost held your hand, “His musk will open you up for us. Look at how it’s swelling your pussy, sweetheart.” 

You looked down at yourself, and you saw that Ghost was right. Your pussy was creamy and puffy, soaking in John’s fluids, his musk, and it was helping you relax for him. John stepped forward, slipping in another inch or so, fitting his bent petals through your entrance. Then, with each grueling thrust, you felt the line of marble nodes press against your walls, secreting their lubricant all over your walls and making you drip onto the altar. 

“So good for me,” John groaned, holding your breasts in his hands, stealing them away from Gaz and Soap, squeezing them hard enough to leave pinprick marks with his talons. 

“Anhh– John! I’m…”

“Yes, come again, love. Come for me, remember me…”

Your mind was flung through space and time, spinning and feeding you a chaotic string of memories that didn’t seem like your own. You tasted food and drink you’d never tried, you sang songs you didn’t know, ran full speed across fields full of flowers you’d never smelled. It was maddening, watching you live a life you’d never had. Then, there they were, your four gargoyles, pledging their loyalty to you and your parents, vowing to be your protectors. But, just as your heart filled with hope, there was a great black fire that roared through the halls of your keep, burning the people you loved, destroying the peace in your realm. The Dark Sorcerer, Cael. 

John was pounding away at your body now, and you were shivering from the heightened pleasure. How long had you been out? Your belly felt full of him, and you could see the outline of his shaft as he shoved himself through you, fucking you nearly up into your ribs. You reached down and cradled him outside of your belly, and he moaned from your touch, his heavy balls slapping against your ass in a punishing, deafening rhythm.

Then, you saw John beat his wings again, fighting with his own pleasure. He speared you fully, sealing himself inside of you, and it was at that point that you felt the curling, pulsing pressure of his knot. 

“John… I’m not… I can’t…” You could barely keep your eyes open. 

He gathered you up in his arms, wrapping you tight to his chest, and hugged you to his scalding, scaled flesh. When he breathed against you, his chest filled your space, and you could feel the tremors racking his body. He folded his wings around you, enclosing you in his protective embrace, hiding you in his darkness, and lowered you with his steady, inhuman power onto his throbbing knot. 

Your scream was silent as your breath caught in your throat. You’d been shattered, thrown with supernatural might into a bursting orgasm, forced to come hard onto his swollen, beating shaft. 

He was coming, too, and it filled your walls, making your belly hang heavy with fertile, gargoyle seed. John roared, thrusting himself up into you to grind his knot within your hole, churning his cream within you, and soaking your womb in his come. 

John sighed, bending his neck to kiss your open mouth, petting you with his paws, rubbing his cock through your abdomen with his thumbs. His come moved inside of you as he did so, and you were so stuffed with his hot spend, the moment he began to unseal himself, it sprayed out of you and onto his cock, legs, and the floor of the chamber, turning the dirt to mud. You were gaping wide, dripping in his come, and trembling from brain-breaking orgasms. He didn’t look much better. He was spent, sitting on the ground of the cave, breathing hard and fast. 

But, you couldn’t think about aftercare. Ghost took his place as soon as it was available, stepping through the muddy, semen-soaked floor without so much as a second glance. His dick was covered in his musk and he used it to rub it all over your clit, arching his back to paint your nipples with it as well, painting long lines of his scent all over your chest, belly, and legs. Satisfied, he notched himself at your entrance and spread your walls wide again, guiding himself deep inside of you. 

You hissed in sweet agony, and he smiled down at you knowingly, 

“You’re taking me so well. My tight little quim. So perfect. How I missed you, lover.”

John was standing again, and he came to help Ghost hold you in place as he pounded himself into you with long, agonizing strokes. You were glad he was there because your whole body was limp. You hung off the side of the pedestal like a ragdoll, letting Ghost rail himself into you, his studded shaft rolling orgasm after orgasm through your nerves, forcing you to come one after the other, just an endless parade of pleasure. Your mouth was open, and Gaz was suckling on your lips and tongue while Soap devoured your breasts, pinching and biting and slurping to his heart’s content. 

John put his paw on your belly, feeling how Simon was protruding out of your flesh, heavy and built to last, His knot smaller but harder than John’s. 

“Remember, love. C’mon, try to reach deeper,” you keened, feeling hot tears rush out of your eyes and down your cheeks as Gaz devoured your tongue. Then, you were transported again, back to your dear Evenhold. You were locked in a battle, controlling your magic and trying to crack a portal. You didn’t have a clear destination, but you found one all the same. Finally, your opponent, Cael, made a misstep. He tried to cast a sealing spell on you, but you deflected it, casting it on your devoted warriors instead, watching them tumble into the portal, wrought in dark stone. You felt yourself scream, and you killed the sorcerer, leaping into the portal to save the heroes you loved. 

But, something had gone wrong. Time, fickle and flowing, warped itself, wrapping around your magic and flinging you back through time. You were a child again, and you were alone. 

The look of despair on your face told Ghost everything he needed to know,

“She remembers. It’s working. Fuck! Take all of me, love. Come back to us!”

He slammed his knot inside of you and stretched his wings out wide and straight, his whole body vibrating with his energy, the enormous cock inside your core jerked and drooled come all over your walls, drowning itself in your tight, swollen hole. 

When he popped his knot out of you, he held it to your pussy like a gate, encouraging the come he’d left behind to settle in your belly instead of spilling onto the ground. It worked poorly; there was just too much of it, but you felt fuller than before, and you knew your womb was carrying their seed deep within you. 

“Hurry, Soap,” John stretched his claws, showing his discomfort, “Dawn.”

Soap took his place between your legs and struggled with his tip. You were pliant and soft for him, but it still wasn’t enough. 

“Turn her,” he grunted, and your protectors followed his command, flipping your body over so that you could be on all fours for him. 

He spread his musk over your hole, using his paws and cock in unison, trying his best to prepare you for his cock’s sinister curve, but it was no use. 

“Just… take me, Soap. Please… I need to know…” You whined, just under your breath, preparing yourself for the ache of being stretched by him.

“Bonnie, I willnae hurt you. Give me a moment t–”

“Now,” you insisted, spreading yourself wide for him, “It has to be now.”

He sighed, and he put his wings around you instinctively, wanting to protect you from the pain and not knowing how.  Soap slipped forward, and his cockhead caught in your inner ring of muscles, stuck, oozing its precome into your hole. He was afraid to press forward, unwilling to injure his mate, fearful of what he might do to you.

So, you fucked him. You leaned back, pressing your cunt down onto his tip, feeling every hard inch as you did so, prying yourself open like a stone fruit, using his prick to cleave your body. Thankfully, he was not as thick as John nor as long as Ghost, but he was a challenge for the entire ride. Every single thrust felt like a damn marathon, and he was shaped in such a way that your delicate g-spot was bullied into a wet, body-shaking submission. 

You never stopped coming on Soap, but you didn’t remember starting either. He erased your mind and filled it with him, only him, and you slipped into his memories as easily as a warm bath, letting him drown you in his slick affection.

You saw yourself as a child, running through the keep, chasing Soap, a mischievous rook, letting him fly you onto the feast table to steal fruits and berries from the bowls, screeching as the cooks chased you from them, laughing and tumbling and rolling into the garden where you shared them together, ripping off ripe, sweet lobes, and fighting over the last bites.

Then, he was a young man. Younger than he was now, but every bit as handsome. None of his blue cracks were there to mar his pearlescent skin, and you marveled at his beauty. He flew with you to your secret spot, high in the white, chalk cliffs of Evenhold, overlooking the sea. He said nothing, but you understood everything in that moment. 

The crash of the waves mimicked his rough fucking, and the lightning strike of another pleasure-filled crescendo slammed you back to the present, letting you watch him groan and stretch and fly with your body, pulling you from the altar into the air, clutching you around your throat and belly with his long tail in a deep embrace, trapping you on his knot and using his hands to milk himself into you, squeezing his root like a summer fruit, giving you every last drop. 

His wings faltered, and his body went limp, and he lay you on the altar as gently as he could before collapsing on the ground of the cave, eyes shut and trembling. 

Gaz mounted you, grabbing your hips and dragging you toward him. You looked down as he held your legs open, using his tail to protect your head from the rough platform. Then, he slipped into you with a gentleness you were not expecting due to his size. You thought you had finally been stretched to the point of comfort, worried about the state of yourself, but it was just an illusion. Once he impaled you past his enormous head, the petals folded back and his fat prick began to struggle within you. But, unlike Soap, he did not hold himself back. He knew you were close to the answer, and he needed to give it to you. 

You both stared down at your swollen belly, full of come and beginning to fill with his shape. Gaz took your hand and placed it just above your womb, and moaned, grunting at you,

“Hold me here, love. Feel me… here…”

You tried to obey, but doing so made all of the sensations inside of you that much more intense. You could feel every petal, every ridge, every slippery marble node, the furl of his flesh and the impossibly thick length of his phallus, all of it working inside of you, right below your palm. 

“Press…” He begged, his brown eyes soft and pleading. 

So, you did, and you made yourself start to come. It was too beautiful of a feeling. You could sense every twitch and pulse and slip of his cock inside of you, feeling it with your walls as if you would your hands, squeezing him within you like a hilt to its blade, wielding him like a weapon. 

You tipped over the edge, falling into another dream, but this time, it was a place you recognized. You were with Valeria, young again, just a child, and you watched her close the portal, making the runes with her hands, and sealing off the world of Darmoch, Evenhold, and everything you’d ever known.

Then, she cast a spell over your guardians, releasing them from their stone prisons, but at a price. Their skin splintered and cracked, and the stone cut awful shapes in their flesh, burning them with permanent scars. You wanted to help them, but you were slowly forgetting their faces. Things were fading away, and Valeria was the only one who knew how to help you. 

You opened your eyes, clutching Gaz’s long dick within you in both of your hands, massaging him with deep affection and adoration. You looked up at him and said, 

“I remember everything.”

He smiled, leaning forward to kiss your mouth, nuzzling your nose with his own snout, minding his tusks and groaning for you, 

“Mmm, of course you do, my love. I knew you would.”

Gaz took a sharp breath and rolled his knot into you, emptying himself inside like the others, making you warm, full, and knowing the most perfect love. It was written all over your soul, your promise to them, their vow to you, the ancient oath to protect you and to follow your command until the end of days. 

When he pulled away, stumbling back and catching himself on the cave wall, you knew your destiny. You rose to your feet, ignoring the aches of your humanity, casting aside your doubt. You pulled your guardians close to you, putting their hands on your arms and shoulders, and just as the pink dawn began to crest over the horizon, you said,

“Hold on to me. We’re going home.”

Don't look at me like that. Y'all knew I was out of my mind before you even started reading this fic. C'mon, now.

[slyscoutess]

paring: sebastian vettel x fem!singer!reader summary: pilots should learn not to comment on their favorite artists . . . or maybe this is their tactic to get what they want writer: the oldest thing in my drafts, it clearly had to be my first passion in formula 1, one of the reasons I liked watching it, listening to Florence + The Machine, I just wanted to leave my love for sebs on record

liked by sebastianvettel, jessalexander, christinanadin and 4.636.585 others

yourusername I came for the pleasure, but I stay for the pain . . . New album DANCE FEVER. Out April 19 💙

store.yourname.com

📷: alvarezcamila

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yournameupdate MOTHER IS BACK!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL

ynlnthinker EVERYBODY AND THEIR CHILD FREAKING RIGHT NOW

ynlnandthesiix not her coming back after years with new music and pretending to be normal

vettelchild somebody please check on sebs, i think the man is dead right about now

leclerccough just saw sebastian vettel himself in the likes, she posted it like 2 min ago???

patitowifey father is a hardcore fan just like us fr carlandomind I didn't even know he had Instagram??? pastryf2piastri pretty sure is a fanpage, there is nothing published yet

yournamecuunt Rumors of her divorce emerged in 2020 and she disappeared from the map and now appears with an album out of nowhere

andthesixburner queen behaviour???

liked by vertappwifey,rosinglovers, vettelbabs and 8.585 others

lovingwags New wag in the paddock?

seen at the Australian GP with some friends and members of the band that makes up her shows and team, yn ln was present at the Australian GP, ​​we cannot confirm which garage she was in, but I think we all have a certain hope of one in specific ( Sebastian please makes us proud

view all 475 comments

strollmothering That one blueyfever on twitter beign right all along

blueyfever OF COURSE I FCKING WAS formulaonfacts CAN'T FREAKING BELIEVE IT

ynthinker SCREAMING, CRYING AND THROWING UUUP

minivettel5 This woman is a freaking goddess

vettelhamm Sebastian must be just killing himself right about now

33tororoso Do we, Sebastian Vettel's children, finally have a mother?

maziemillian Isn't he like . . . married? blueyfever yeah! to her!!!! formulaonfacts okay grandma let's get you back to bed

whatamaxemmil I can't wait for blueyfever to be right

liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc, lovingwags and 6.569.019 others

yourusername for years and years the words you didn't let me write suffocated me, the art you never let me see blinded me, the places you left me humiliated me, but finally my Graceland gained a different meaning and I'm no longer stuck in the bathroom with the same headache, everything you wanted from me didn't belong to you and I finally found someone who would give me the pen and not cut out my tongue, all my love, my affection, my future and my choices belong to him.

Because of him I have Dance Fever every night.

DANCE FEVER is yours to listen now.

view all 48.371 comments

yournameupdate OMG IS THAT????

ynlnthinker THAT IS SEBASTIAN VETTEL HIMSELF

vettelmemes OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

vettelchild WHAT DOES THIS MEAAAAAAN

formulaonfacts BLUEY WAS RIGHT WT???

lecfosi BLUEY THE OLDER WISER SIBLING charles_leclerc no? that would be me maxverstappen1 you are neither charles_leclerc I am her favorite lance_stroll keep dreaming

yournamecuunt the grid competing more for her mother's love than for the world championship

georgerussell63 You haven't seen them in person.

sebastianvettel posted a new video.

liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc, lovingwags and 6.569.019 others

yourusername It's been three years and a pandemic of an intense creative process, four years of silently recording every movement of my life until dance fever came to me and was finally delivered to you, four years surrounded by incredible people, and as a thank you for me Wait patiently over the last four years, I'll be sharing a little of what I've been going through.

the Dance Fever bts is now on YouTube, I'm sorry for the length, it's been four years of recording.

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charles_leclerc it's 2 in the mornig

yourusername and why aren't you sleeping, pretty sure already put you in bed?

maxverstappen1 I just stopped my sim race to watch something I basically live? yeah

vettelchild my god the amount of content from yn and sebastian, now I have diabetes and i'm still at 2019, they weren't even dating

lecsainzfosi wait . . . WHAT?

lance_stroll I will assume you got to 2020 and 2021 charles_leclerc often sleep on the sofa in their house during these landonorris you and practically everyone on the grid, even Lewlew charles_leclerc yeah but i am her favorite lance_stroll still on this?

yournamecuunt Now that you are intertwined in the world of F1, do you think Lance should just leave?

yourusername Hell no, that is my child, giving my life for him to be happy, never did anything wrong, will never do , everyone who complains about him just wants to make noise and distractions and isn't worrying about the race tsunodaaaa on my way to make a fanpage for this mother and son duo

The soft tendrils of dawn's first light seeped through the curtains, casting a warm, golden glow upon the tranquil morning. Sebastian, now retired from the racing circuit, still grappled with the novelty of no longer being tethered to the demanding schedules of tracks worldwide. Yet, awakening beside his wife, cocooned in the serenity of their home, provided a deeply soothing sense of contentment.

As Sebastian nestled closer to his beloved, he could feel her gentle warmth radiating beside him. She slept peacefully, her worries and the frenetic pace of everyday life momentarily suspended. Ever since Bee came into their lives, their nights had become a balancing act between tending to their child's needs and stealing moments of rest. But on this particular night, they had slept deeply, as though replenishing themselves from an extended bout of weariness.

Her locks cascaded like silken waves over the pillow, delicately shrouding her serene countenance. The soft curves of her features bespoke the tranquility she had discovered in that fleeting moment of repose. A fond smile tugged at Sebastian's lips as he recalled the countless nights spent awake with her, cradling her in his arms as she delved into the depths of her creative musings. The restorative embrace of a full night's sleep had invigorated Sebastian. He savored a newfound sense of peace and autonomy, a luxury he hadn't known since bidding farewell to the adrenaline-fueled world of racing. Now, he could devote more of himself to his growing family, witnessing Bee's milestones and relishing in the simple joys of marital companionship.

As the world beyond their bedroom gradually stirred to life, the couple remained ensconced in their private sanctuary. Yet, the tranquil ambiance was momentarily shattered by the soft whimper of Bee, captured by the electronic monitor stationed nearby. With a reluctant sigh, Sebastian's wife stirred beside him, bidding farewell to the depths of slumber.

"Sebastian, your daughter wake up . . .", she groaned, as Bee's gentle cry pierced the stillness of the morning, the woman instinctively buried her face into her husband's chest, seeking refuge from the beckoning call of their daughter. Her soft sobs muffled against the warmth of his embrace, a silent plea for a few more moments of respite.

Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle softly at his wife's playful attempt to evade the inevitable. With a tender affection, he ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her frazzled nerves with each gentle stroke. Her muffled laughter reverberated against his chest, a testament to the enduring bond they shared, even amidst the chaos of parenthood. As Bee's cries persisted, Sebastian's wife reluctantly peeled herself away from the sanctuary of his embrace, a resigned smile tugging at the corners of her lips. With a loving glance exchanged between them, they silently acknowledged the shared journey of parenthood, filled with its moments of exhaustion and boundless love. With a whispered promise to return, Sebastian's wife slipped out of bed, ready to embrace the day and tend to their beloved daughter.

As the soft hues of morning bathed the room, casting a gentle glow upon their cozy sanctuary, the woman returned, cradling their precious Bee in her arms. Each step she took seemed to echo with the tender rhythm of maternal love, her eyes alight with a serene radiance that mirrored the dawn's gentle embrace.

Sebastian's heart swelled with affection as he watched his wife approach, the ethereal beauty of motherhood emanating from her every movement. With each delicate sway, Bee stirred slightly in her mother's arms, her angelic face still adorned with the remnants of sleep. As his wife drew nearer, Sebastian's eyes sparkled with an unwavering adoration, a silent testament to the profound love he held for both his wife and their darling daughter. In that fleeting moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the tender bond that bound their family together.

Bee, with her tiny hands outstretched, reached eagerly for her father, her sleepy gaze melting hearts with its innocence. Sebastian's heart skipped a beat as he eagerly scooped her up, enveloping her in a warm embrace that radiated with paternal love. With a contented sigh, his lover gently lowered Bee onto the bed, where the little one wobbled unsteadily before finding her footing. With a gleeful giggle, Bee propelled herself into her father's waiting arms, her laughter filling the room with its infectious melody. Sebastian's heart swelled with pride as he cradled their daughter close, showering her with affectionate kisses that elicited a chorus of delighted squeals. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of their love, Sebastian's wife couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the family they had created together.

As she reclined on the bed, a gentle hand instinctively drifted to her burgeoning belly, where new life stirred with the promise of tomorrow. With each fluttering kick, her heart overflowed with anticipation, a silent prayer whispered for the blessings that lay ahead.

In the tranquil embrace of their shared love, Sebastian's wife felt as though she had finally found her own personal Graceland—a haven of warmth, purity, and boundless affection. And as the laughter of her husband and daughter echoed through the room, she knew that their home would forever be filled with the sweet symphony of love's enduring melody.

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, lovingwags and 569.019 others

sebastianvettel My Dearest,

As I sit down to write these words, I find myself immersed in thoughts of you, my heart overflowing with emotions that words alone cannot fully capture. Each day spent by your side feels like ascending to a throne, where you reign as my sovereign, my King. Your presence in my life has granted me a sense of liberation, a feeling of being truly Free from the constraints of the past.

Our journey together has been a whirlwind of joy and passion, a dance of souls caught in the frenzy of love. In your arms, I've discovered a rhythm unlike any other, a Choreomania that consumes us, leaving us breathless yet exhilarated. Whenever I find myself away from you, it's as if I've returned to familiar grounds, back in the embrace of a familiar town. You are my anchor, my sanctuary, my safe haven — a feeling encapsulated in the phrase Back In Town.

Together, we stand united against the odds, defying conventions and societal norms. We are rebels, fighters, Girls Against God in a world that seeks to confine us. In the depths of night, you are my beautiful paradox, my Dream Girl Evil. Your essence is both enchanting and mysterious, a captivating blend that keeps me endlessly intrigued.

Within the walls of our home, our love becomes a sanctuary, a Prayer Factory where we offer our hearts and souls in devotion to each other. It is here, in the sacred space we've created, that I find solace and strength. You possess a wisdom and insight that transcends time, a gift akin to that of the mythical Cassandra. Your intuition guides me, leading me towards a future filled with hope and promise.

In your arms, I've found my heaven, my nirvana — for Heaven is Here, whenever I'm with you. Your presence alone is enough to transform the ordinary into something extraordinary, turning mundane moments into memories I'll cherish forever. Your smile, like a radiant daffodil in a field of blooms, brings light and warmth to even the darkest of days. With you, each moment becomes a celebration of life, a testament to the beauty of love.

My love for you knows no bounds, transcending the limits of time and space. You are my guiding star illuminating the path before me with your boundless affection. Even in moments of separation, I exercise restraint, longing to hold you close yet savoring the anticipation of our reunion. Distance may test us, but it only serves to deepen my love for you, fortifying the bond we share.

Together, we are a force to be reckoned with, a Bomb waiting to explode with passion and desire. In your arms, I find solace, security, and an overwhelming sense of belonging. You are my muse, my inspiration, my Mermaid of the depths. Your allure is irresistible, drawing me in with your ethereal beauty and grace.

My dearest, these words pale in comparison to the depth of my affection for you. You are the beating heart of my existence, the light that guides me through the darkness.

With all my love,

Sebastian

tagged: yourusername

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charles_leclerc alright gonna wrap it up, never gonna be this kind of romantic

carlossainz55 not even shakespere thought about writing something like that, mate

maxverstappen1 When will it be my turn?

kellypiquet what? maxverstappen1 when will it be my turn to be this romantic

lance_stroll MAMA AND PAPA

fernandoalo_oficial beautiful letter, really big, not gonna read but it's wonderful

jensonbutton I've never seen anyone who had so much to say, my god lewishamilton stole all the romance of the century landonorris That's why we live in the century of whoredom

yournamecuunt DID HE JUST MAKE A LETTER WITH ALL HER SONGS IN ORDER?

aussiegrit he's crazy romantic sentimental like that

motheryourname why hasn't yourusername commented yet?

lance_stroll She's here crying like hell at Sebs' farewell party alex_albon She's been really emotional today, with the party and everything. landonorris It's the hormones of this new pregnancy ynthinker THE WHAT sebastianvettel Lando??? yourusername FOR FUCKS SAKE landonorris sorry, sorry SORRY MOTHER

[hischierswhore]

Can you write about Luke Hughes being in a long-time relationship with a girl who is a figure skater, she goes to a competition where she wins first place and he is there with his parents supporting her, so a couple of days later when he is doing press someone asks him about it and he is like a proud boyfriend speaking about how he feels and how his family supports her too. Please, I love your writing.💕

gold medalist

pairing: luke hughes x figure skater!reader

a/n: my first fic for an NHL player! i haven't written a fic in a WHILE so i hope this is decent. also thank u anon <3

You were currently competing in the 2024 World Figure Skating Championship in Montreal. Your parents sadly were unable to make the event, the biggest event you've even been part of. Luckily for you, your boyfriend Luke and his parents had come to support you.

They looked beyond excited to watch you perform, especially Luke, who had never seen you perform before due to his hectic schedule. They were extremely supportive and could barely contain their excitement during your performance. It was moving and you looked so elegant as you glided across the ice so effortlessly.

Finally, the competition had ended and the results were ready to be revealed. You listened and applauded as the other competitors' names were called for 2nd and 3rd place, which made the butterflies in your stomach even worse. You thought you did great, but you'd also seen your competitors perform, and you were taken aback by their beautiful performances, leaving you to think that you didn't place at all.

"And the winner of the 2024 World Figure Skating Championship is... Y/N L/N!" The announcer shouted as the entire arena jumped up with cheers.

You had not processed the words that just came out of the announcers mouth. You were frozen, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you stood in the middle of the ice. You snapped out of your daze, tears beginning to trickle down your cheeks as you took it all in. You did it. You did the damn thing.

"Thank you everyone! Thank you, thank you, thank you! I am so happy! This is such a surreal moment. I can't believe any of this is happening" You exclaimed as the announcer handed you the microphone and the judges had given you flowers and your gold medal.

Moments later, you were free to meet up with Luke and his parents. The second they saw you, Luke ran to you and carried you into his arms. He held you tight and kissed your head repeatedly.

"Y/N, baby, I'm so proud of you. I love you so much, don't ever doubt yourself" He said to you, his eyes brimming with tears.

"I won't. I promise" You replied, kissing him gently on the lips.

His parents soon approached you and they were both cheering as loudly as possible for their daughter-in-law.

"Y/N we are so proud of you honey! You deserve this, you really do. Congratulations" Luke's mother said as she hugged you tightly. She pulled back and wiped away the tears from her face.

"Now go get changed! We're going to celebrate tonight!" Luke's father added as he walked off to tell everyone else about your win.

A few days later, you were back in New Jersey, seeing as Luke had a game and you had never failed to miss a single one since you started dating all those years ago.

Luke was currently doing press while you were at your shared apartment tidying up before you headed to the game. You turned on the tv to watch the press conference while you cleaned.

You were in the process of cleaning the counter when you looked at the tv to find your own image on the screen, along with Luke and his parents.

"Luke we have to ask. Your amazingly talented girlfriend Y/n recently competed in the World Figure Skating Championship and won the first place prize. What was going through your head in that moment when her name was called?" A reporter asked the 6'2 man, holding her mic towards him.

"Well, I just felt nothing short of complete pride. My beautiful girlfriend competed magnificently and did the most amazing job she possibly could. There was no question in my mind that she would take home first place, she deserved every bit of that trophy. I am so proud of her. Her dedication to the sport and hard work really paid off and it was very rewarding to witness. I'm so glad I got to be there with her to cheer her on. It's moments like these that remind me how lucky I am to have her" Luke responded confidently.

The reporters questions continued as he began asking more specific questions about your relationship and how things were between you two now.

You smiled when you heard him say 'my beautiful girlfriend', 'lucky I am' and 'her dedication'. You couldn't help but feel extremely loved when he spoke like that about you. He was so genuine, and it showed through everything he did and said.

"One final question Luke. We saw that your parents were there to help you cheer Y/n on from the stands. What did they think about Y/n's win?" The reporter then asked him.

"My parents were ecstatic. They had such an awesome time watching her compete. Mom couldn't stop telling me how incredibly happy she was, and dad said it was absolutely perfect. They know how much effort Y/n puts into skating, and they were able to experience that firsthand. That night was a special one, and they told me how lucky I am to have found someone like Y/n and be able to share moments like that with them. That will definitely be a night I'll never forget." Luke stated happily.

Once the interview concluded, you watched the footage with a huge smile on your face. You were feeling rather giddy inside as you remembered that evening, especially when Luke had placed his arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, whispering something in your ear.

Your heart skipped a beat when he mentioned how lucky he was to have found someone like you, and how special it was to share moments like that with you. You loved hearing how affectionate he was with you, knowing full well that not many men actually showed that kind of emotion towards their girlfriends or wives.

It made you fall deeper and deeper in love with him each day, despite the fact that you were already head over heels for him. It made your feelings grow stronger, making you want to spend every waking moment with him and wake up next to him each morning.

TAGLIST

@lovelynikol16

if you'd like to be added to the taglist, pls leave a comment <3

[iceman-kazansky]

The Burn of Jealousy

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Requested by: nobody

Pairings: Ayrton Senna xf!reader

Warnings: Kissing. Jealousy. That's it, I think.

Word Count: 1,102

A/n: Wrote this a week or more ago, just reread it and thought it was ready to publish :))

Taglist: nobody

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

For Ayrton, he'd always been a little sour towards you. Standoffish maybe was easier to explain it. It wasn't that he was rude, no, not at all. He’d just.. had a few difficult times with you at first, but things had improved. Only, you were teammates, a little less than friends, but more than rivals. In some ways. You were both competing for a championship, as were every other driver, so on occasion it put some strain on your relationship.

Yet here he was, sitting on the opposite side of the bar, watching some man practically groveling at your feet for your attention and attraction. It made him feel all sorts of ways he didn't know were possible to feel about you. The way you were laughing at his probably stupid and corny jokes; how you were smiling so beautifully, flashing your precious pearly whites wastefully at him; all of it made his whole being burn with course, bitter jealousy. What did that loser have that he didn't?

Ayrton was sipping on a glass of liquor, watching you two from his seat with a sour look on his usually cheerful, relaxed features. Only when you reached forward and touched his arm did he finally snap. Downing the rest of his drink, he made a beeline to the two of you.

He appeared behind you, arriving just in time to overhear the discussion of this pathetic man taking you on a date. It made a bitter jealousy surge through his veins as he interjected, “She's busy.”

Ayrton didn't spare you a glance as he continued his hard glare at the man who had been hitting on you. Raising an eyebrow, the stranger protested, “Who are you?”

The Brazilian man wasn't in the mood for any further argument and made the, in hindsight, irrational decision to reply with something that would make all of the strangers' advances come to a screeching halt. “I'm her boyfriend.”

Without waiting for another reply from the stranger, Ayrton's jealous gaze snapped down to you and he spoke in a tight voice, carefully curbing his angry jealousy, “We're leaving. Now.”

The seriousness in his voice left no room for argument and you were forced to follow him as he practically dragged you away.

Ayrton clutched your hand tightly and began walking, not stopping to glance back at you as he pulled you outside and away from the bustle of the bar.

Only once he'd pulled you to somewhere secluded did Ayrton stop, turning to face you, “What were you doing with him?” He asked pointedly.

“Talking?”

Ayrton clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing at your flippant response. “It looked like a lot more than talking,” he retorted, “You were getting really.. comfortable with him.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, so I'm not allowed to be comfortable or have fun with anyone else anymore, am I?”

Ayrton's jaw ticked, his irritation growing with every word you said. He felt the hot, tingling sensation of his carefully concealed anger growing steadily, his eyes hardening. Why didn't you understand where he was coming from? “You know that's not what I meant,” he all but growled at you, taking a purposeful step forward. He could feel the heat radiating from your body, his eyes locked with yours. “It's not about you having fun with someone else, it's about how you were acting with him.”

Sighing in exasperation, you respond in irritation, “He was just trying to ask me on a date!”

Ayrton couldn’t take this anymore. Without fully thinking through what he was about to say, he blurted, “That's exactly my point! I don't want him to take you on a date! Take you away from me! What does he have that I don’t?”

A heavy silence settled over the two of you. Ayrton began to regret his words, the full weight of them sinking in. Had he just possibly ruined a friendship with the person he cherished most?

The Brazilian could hardly hold his gaze with yours, but he braved this feeling of shame, meeting your gaze. Your eyes were wide, your mouth parted slightly in shock, making him feel even worse about his mindless words. “What?” You asked suddenly, blinking at him.

Licking his lips, Ayrton pondered whether to continue or to hold his tongue and try backtracking. “I-” He stuttered, mentally cursing his inability to speak. He was better than this. He knew he was. “I want to know what he had that I didn’t.”

Suddenly, Ayrton realized he was past the point of caring about what his words might do now, he couldn’t stop himself anymore, “I want nothing more than to take you on a date myself. Every time I see you flirting with another guy- I just can’t help it. I get so jealous. Maybe I had just hoped that you would look at me like you looked at them. Hoped that you’d flirt with me like how you flirted with them.”

For a long time, you’re silent and Ayrton feels an unusual dread settle over him. Suddenly everything seems so loud. The cars on a not so far away street roar in his ears, the shadows of the alley he'd stopped in front of to talk to you seemed to grow in size, threatening to swallow him whole, and the streetlights cast a blinding light on him.

“I’m sorry.” He’s quick to apologize, hoping this hasn’t changed anything, but deep down he knows it will never be the same. He feels it.

“Don’t apologize-” Your voice snaps Ayrton from his reverie. He had begun to lose all hope but your voice is something that distracts him, “I feel the same.”

Ayrton’s face visibly brightens, his eyes widening with glee, “Y-you do?” he asks incredulously. He can’t believe it.

You nod faintly. Ayrton is overrun with an immense joy, and for the third time that evening, he acts upon an impulsive thought, this time when he leans down and captures your lips in a searing kiss.

After a few seconds he pulls away, his chocolate irises staring down into yours with a newly defined affection swirling amidst them.

“I’d agree to going on a date with you,” you say to him, smiling as you bring up his earlier statements.

Nothing can stop the smile that creeps onto Ayrton’s face as he beams down at you and nods, “I’ll be taking you up on that”

To Ayrton, this was way better than winning any grand prix. Better than winning a world championship. You were the best prize of them all and you were certainly prettier than any trophy.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ || ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ || ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝!