#dark blue fireproofs

[leclercskiesahead]

Yes

[writeaboutit]

Donation Boot

How firefighter Abby and Reader met

Hello hello it’s been a bit so sorry but I had this idea for a series of sorts following firefighter Abby x Reader through life. I have ideas for a couple more stories but if you have any suggestions leave them in my inbox for sure 🤍

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none just fluff

Part 2: Damn the Chief

Part 3: Silly Abby Candy's for Kids

You heard her key jingle in the lock from the kitchen. The metal on metal scratching noise was like music to your ears despite it being like nails on a chalkboard to others.

That noise meant your wife was finally home. All day you had been waiting for her to come home, missing her warm cuddles. She left for the station before you had even woken up.

Usually you stirred awake for the briefest of moments in those early hours when you heard the shower start, you made it a point to stay awake just long enough to say an I love you as you sent her off to do her work. You never knew when it might be your last so you didn’t chance it.

But last night the melatonin must have hit you extra hard because you didn’t even register Abby’s movements when she leaned down and pressed a warm kiss to your brow bone before clunking out of the room in her steel toed boots.

You regretted not waking up; no more melatonin for you.

The front door creaked open and you heard your dog’s collar jingle as she ran to greet your wife.

Abby must have been following the dogs lead to your presence in the kitchen because you heard her mutter, “Come on, where’s your momma?”

Your heart was instantly a mushy puddle on the tile floor following the comment. Just as you finished drying your hands the love of your life rounded the corner.

She was wearing her normal uniform. Not the big, bulky, fireproof suit but the fitted jeans and the navy blue t-shirt with the station’s logo over her breast.

You were such a sucker for a woman in uniform, it’s how she caught your attention in the first place. But what kept you around was that blinding smile she had plastered across her face that first day.

You and your friends decided to visit your local farmers market during second year of college. It was a fluke really, you weren’t even planning to go with them but after days of them whining that you could spare a couple of hours away from the text books and come have fun you agreed.

The local fire station had a booth set up collecting donations and the truck open for kids to climb in and take pictures.

One of your friends thought a fire fighter was hot and insisted on getting a picture with him by the truck (her very obvious way of flirting). You couldn’t blame her though because you had your eye on one of the younger trainees.

She was working the booth, tracking donation levels and you knew you would hate yourself for the rest of your life if you ignored your gut.

So, despite you being 19 and a broke college student you approached. They were collecting cash donations in one of the big fire suit boots.

You slipped the only cash you had on you into the dark depths of the boot, ten dollars, and were planning to make your way back to your friends, chickening out of talking to her, when all of the sudden you heard, “Hey, wait!”

You turned around and there she was. She had gotten up from her perch and made her way around the table. It was a bit jarring at first. She was tall, muscular, that tight ponytail made her look very sever, and here she was leaning over you with an expectant look.

“Yes?” you asked hesitantly.

“Don’t you want your coupons?” she asked suddenly realizing that she was close and backing up a step.

“Sorry?”

The confusion must have been written on your face because she immediately explained in a sort of rambily but very cute way, “When you donate you get a coupon to the local grocery store… and some other stores but honestly there all the old lady stores in the mall. The grocery ones the only one worth it.”

You just smiled softly at her over explanation. You expected her to be this over confident, maybe slightly douchy character from the way she approached before but really you could see her nerves peaking through now.

It only made you more attracted to her in all honesty.

“Oh right, yeah thanks.” you took the coupon sheet from her and after a moment of tense silence between the pair of you, you both went your separate ways.

It wasn’t until later that night when you went to cut out the grocery coupon and throw out the rest that you realized she had messily scribbled her name and number onto the think colorful price of paper.

You squealed, your roommate asked what was wrong and then you both quickly plotted on what you should text her.

It was simple really just a quick hey this is so n’ so, how are you?

Your phone only sat face down for a total of three minutes before you heard the chime of her reply and the rest is history.

Now seven years later your wife, the nervous fire fighter with the tight ponytail, was coming home to you. You would share a meal, a shower, a bed. It was the life you always wanted and all because you went to a farmers market on a random Sunday seven years ago.

That blinding smile that caught your attention all those years ago was plastered across her face now in the small kitchen of your small house.

Her setting her bag down on the island brings you out of your memory.

“Hey honey,” you greet, making your way to her.

“Hi baby, what were you thinking about just now?” she wraps her arms loosely around your waist.

“Hmm nothing much just your pretty smile,” she rolls her eyes, never one to take a compliment, “Speaking of which, that smile usually means you’re plotting something. What is it?”

She looks down at you and smiles, “You know me too well. I was plotting on what we are going to do over the next three days that I have off of work.”

That gets you excited. It’s not often that she gets time off of work. Sometimes you don’t even see her for days at a time when she has to sleep at the station. Three days off in a row is practically unheard of.

“Really?”

“Swear,” she kisses your forehead.

“Eek, so what were you planning?”

She chuckles and belts her arms just under your thighs, lifting you into the air, “Oh I think you know exactly what i have planned.”

Her voice turned seductive and husky. You squealed as you became level with her face. You both laughed into a soft kiss, one that was definitely going to lead to a forgotten dinner on the stove and a closed bedroom door.

[cherry-leclerc]

bye bye baby ☆ dr3

genre: angst

word count: 2.5k

inspired by bye bye baby, taylor swift !

cherry here!... the req was to write about danny boy, but the concept of this was that i was feeling very dramatic, per usual, duh. wrote this today since i’ve had bye bye baby stuck on REPEAT. 2 posts in 1 day, YIKES. enjoy! :)

The ups and downs that take place in your relationship once Daniel is left without an F1 seat. 

“What do you mean you’re out?”

Furiously, Daniel unzips his fireproofs as he ties the sleeves around his waist. He rummages through his duffel bag, growing more and more impatient, then takes a cautious step forward when you hand him his water bottle. “Thanks,” he lowly mutters and takes a long sip. The Australian shakes his head and looks blankly towards the white wall. “They want someone younger. More talented.”

“But you’re talented, Daniel! You’re better than anyone here!”

Letting out a weak smile, he angles himself lower to hug you before pulling away and brushing your hair behind your ear. “No, I don’t think I am anymore.”

That was two months ago when news came out that your boyfriend would no longer be driving for McLaren. It was a complete shock, considering everyone loved the bubbly Australian, but it honestly didn’t hurt anyone more than it did you. Often, he would remind you that he was the one left without a seat and that you should be glad you would both have some time to disconnect and be together. 

Your shake your head as you munch grumpily on a stack of pancakes. “I love that you’re around—of course I do—but what they did to you was completely unfair. Who in their right mind expects good results for a shit car? That’s their fault, not yours.”

He lets out a smile. “Relax, baby. I get it. You don’t want me around.” Sharp eyes narrow as you fling a pair of gloves at his chest, from his recent addiction to dirt biking. Don’t even, you warn. He lets out a sigh, then he opens his mouth for you to pop in a bite. Digging your fork on a piece of pancake, you raise your arm up to feed him. He hums at the taste. “I was kidding, but seriously— it's okay. I’ll get over it. You should, too.”

As much as he said he was doing fine, you knew something wasn’t right. He was hurt, felt betrayed, and it did him no good to keep rejecting his feelings. But you didn’t bring up the topic anymore. You knew he didn’t like the reminder of what once was.

-

Dirt crunches underneath your boots as you walk up to him and Scotty. The Australians are hunched over, trying their best to fix their bikes as they share a bottle of cheap beer underneath the blazing sun. The twenty-nine year old spots you first as he squints his blue eyes. You’re up early. You flip him off as you pretend to kick a pile of dirt towards him. He comedically raises his arms as he wiggles his brows. “Chloe is looking for you. I think she’s gonna beat your ass.” 

He quickly stands up as he blows a deep breath directly to your boyfriend's face. You cringe. They share a quick look before Daniel shoots a thumbs up. “You’re good.” Thanking him, Scotty rushes past you as he hands you his left over beer. Making your way over to the brunette, you take a seat next to him as you spill the remaining dark liquid.

“Isn’t it too early to be drinking?”

“Isn’t it too early to be looking so beautiful?”

You muster a glare. “Don’t change the subject, Daniel.” Avoiding eye contact, he just keeps his tired gaze entertained on an Acacia tree. Bringing the bottle up to his lips, he lets out a low whistle. It’s hot. A cold beer helps. “Right,” you mumble as you flicker your own eyes towards the green tree. You can still spot it—your initials and his engraved. He had done it one evening when he and Scotty had one too many drinks. He had stumbled all the way just to drag you and show you. Because I love you. Even when I’m drunk, I love you like crazy.

“Trees getting old. Might be time to cut it down.”

You flinch at his words. “Can I have a sip?” He raises his brows as he hands you the bottle. You just had one, he tries to joke as he watches the way you chug it down. Drying your lips, you crane your neck to look up at the blue sky. “You never minded sharing before.” He can distinguish the way your voice sounds—as if you’re upset over something he might’ve said—but he knows he hasn’t done anything wrong. Standing up, you hand him back the glass bottle.

“Cut the tree. I don’t care.”

-

“And to my beautiful girlfriend—you’re everything to me and I love you. Without a doubt, the best birthday present I could ever ask for.” Raising his Coca-Cola can, the brown eyed boy sends you a wink with a bright smile plastered across his face. A face you’ve grown to recognize. The one you love.

Making his way over, he throws his arms over your shoulders as he rocks you side to side. You smile against his chest. “How does it feel to be thirty-four? Do you have bad knees already?” He lets out a toothy grin and he slaps your ass. “It’s just a question!”

“My knees are fine. As long as I can still kneel down in front of you—that’s all that matters, no?”

You blush at his words as you jokingly push him away. This only makes him cling onto you harder. Squinting your eyes up at him, you trace heart shapes against his biceps. You sincerely feel the happiest you’ve felt in ages. This is the Daniel you knew like the back of your hand. “I was thinking maybe we can take a trip. Anywhere, really. To celebrate—"

“My birthday?” He beams. “This is why you’re the sweetest girlfriend in the entire world!” No problem, you shyly respond as you pinch his t-shirt in between your fingers. Kissing you one last time, he excuses himself to go welcome some late-comers. Chole zig zags her way over to you as she gives you a side hug.

“How’d it go?”

You sigh. “He forgot. He completely forgot. I don’t think I can entirely blame him—I mean, it is his birthday.” The fact that you have to defend him makes the blonde furrow her dark brows. Shaking her head, she hands you a slice of chocolate cake.

“Never in a million years did your guys’ anniversary slip his mind. What a dick.”

But you’re not even listening. You’re too flabbergasted that he cut his cake without you being there with him. 

-

Whether it was a trip to Vermont for his birthday or your anniversary, it didn’t really matter, because you loved every second. It’s almost like he needed this break. To do something different that didn’t feel like a forced routine. You went hiking, apple picking, to a million bars that only served barbecue ribs—and you never felt more at peace.

Handing you a bouquet of flowers, he kneels down in front of you. You roll your eyes as you take the colorful peonies from him—though inside you were shaking like a seventeen year old getting her first glimpse of love. “What’s this for?” He shrugs as he takes a seat next to you.

“Just because.”

Those were your favorite types of flowers. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you both continue chatting about anything and everything that crossed your mind. As you both pass by a peach tree, he lets go of your hand as he brings up his camera with sudden determination. Stand right there, baby.

Trying to express your happiness as best as you can, you hug your gift close to your face as you smile so wide, your eyes nearly shut. 

“You’re mind blowing,” he murmurs as he snaps the picture. He takes a moment to admire you as you jog over to him. Show me! He clicks his tongue. “It’s digital. You’re gonna have to wait.” You pout as you pinch his cheek. Bringing your hand up to his mouth, he presses warm kisses.

“I have something to tell you.” Your heart stops, suddenly filled with anxiety as he smiles with giddiness. What is it? “I’m going to be driving again! I mean, it completely sucks for Nyck, but I’m just so happy to get back into an F1 car.”

“Nyck? As in the Alpha Tauri driver?” 

He nods. “I got the call last month—a few days after my birthday. Best present ever.” Once again, his words cut you deep without him even noticing. Nevertheless, you force a tight smile.

“I’m so happy for you, Danny. You’re finally getting what you’ve wanted for so long.”

-

When you both get back to Australia, it surprises you a bit how normal things have stayed. He’s smiling more—if that was ever even possible—he’s laughing louder, too. Roaming the house, you rub your eyes from sleepiness. Scotty and Chloe share a laugh when they spot you. “And Sleeping Beauty has finally woken. I didn’t think that was possible.” Chloe smacks his chest as she sends you a wink.

“Humor me, why don’t you?” Your gaze flickers across the living room. “Where’s Danny?” 

“Outside.” 

Sliding the door open, you step out as you try your best to adjust your eyesight to the bright sun. As soon as it does, your stomach drops. You run up to the brunette as you pull the ax from him.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Startled, he jumps up as he takes his earphones out. “Holy shit. You scared me, don’t do that!” Tears fill your eyes as you analyze the chopped tree. You’re no expert, but you can tell that there’s no going back. The only result that comes out of this would be for it to come crashing down. He rushed over with panic, checks you everywhere to make sure you weren’t hurt. You brush him off.

“Why would you do this?”

He cocks his head to the side, brown eyes filled with confusion. “I’m so lost, what did I do?” Anger bubbles up inside of you as you force yourself to not scream at him. “You’re okay, so why are you crying? Oh no. Did Scotty wake you up again? I told him not to do that anymore.”

“I’m done.” You wipe your tears as you let out a bitter laugh. “I am so done.”

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“I’m saying I give up! Fuck, I give up. That’s it. You win. I just —can't.”

He tries to take a step closer, but you only distance yourself twice as much. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?”

“I’ve tried so hard to understand you, I really did, but I’m just as tired as you are, okay? I tried to ease your pain when McLaren let you go, but you kept pushing me away. I tried to be there for you on days you felt like nothing, but to me you were always everything. I tried to not let you see how much it hurt me when you forgot our five year anniversary. I tried to not act like it bothered me when you cut the cake I spent hours baking for you, without me. I tried to not act surprised when I found out you kept the news from me about you returning to F1 for one fucking month. But I can’t try and pretend that you cutting down this tree hasn’t broken my heart.”

“It’s just a stupid, old tree—"

“I don’t think you understand! It may be old, and it sure as hell could be stupid, but it was ours.” You grab his hand harshly as you drag him to the other side of the tree. His eyes grow wide. I didn’t remember—I swear I forgot that was even there! You let out a wet laugh as you toss your hair over your shoulder. “You’re hurting me, Daniel. Can’t you see?”

“You’re the one who said I should cut it down. You can’t seriously just be blaming me.”

“And who came up with the idea first?” 

He lowers his gaze as he runs his left hand against his clenched jaw. “I’m sorry.” He connects his desperate eyes to your glossy ones. “But don’t say all those things, please. You’re right. I’ve been an awful boyfriend, but no one understands me better than you.” Placing his hands on either side of your face, he lets out soft pants. “You’re everything to me, how could you have possibly felt that way? I love you.”

“Love me like what?” He furrows his brows as he searches for an answer. You scrunch your nose as you push his hands down. “I thought you loved me like crazy.” His stomach churns. “Listen, I love you, Daniel. I love you so fucking much, but even I can see that I’m not your happiness anymore. Not the way I used to be, at least. You have other priorities, other plans—”

“No, you’re my priority. You always have been.”

“Except I haven’t. For a moment, you went radio silent. It was a one-sided relationship, but I loved you so much that I stayed. I pushed past it. Then—one random day— your smile came back. You were insanely happy and I thought...” You shut your eyes. You can feel the salty tears trickle down your face. “I thought it was because of me. Now I realize, it hasn’t been about me for a while now. It’s so obvious that the only reason you were cheerful once again was because you got what you wanted. You got a seat.”

“You’re wrong—"

“I’m not.” You let out a shaky breath as you bite down on your lip, a weak attempt to not let out loud sobs. “I would have gladly taken part in your pain, but you never let me in. You never let me get close enough to help you out.” Making your way up to him slowly, you tippy toe as you lean in for a kiss. What hurts the most is that all of a sudden—he’s kissing you the exact same way he did when he first told you that he loved you. He was giving it his all. Pulling away, you let out a low whimper as you feel your chin tremble. Your smile wobbles. “Can’t force something that’s not there anymore, can you?”

Taking him in one last time, you rub his forearm as you gently pat it before you walk away. Daniel feels paralyzed as he watches you go. He’s expecting you to turn around at least one last time and he’s expecting his body to let him run after you, but neither of those things happen.

Hesitantly, Chloe and Scotty make their way to their frozen friend. They had heard the fight, but decided it was best to not intervene. 

“She left.”

The couple share a concerned look as they take in the weak tree that was clearly about to fall at any moment. Chloe sighs, then walks away, making a beeline to find you. Though, she knows you better than anyone. You weren’t going to return. And she completely understood why.

Scotty takes a step back and shakes his head in disbelief. 

“She fucking loved that tree.”

[lxndonorris]

back inside the cockpit - Max Verstappen (SFS24)

Y/N x Max Verstappen Theme: Smut (you've been warned) testing begins and you're joining Max during his stint. Tension rises, between the smell of rubber and the roaring of the new Red Bull. word count: 2460+ taglist: @game-set-canet another part of the suit fitting saga 24 (SFS24), if you have any request, let me know! Next one is about Lando :)

As the new racing season looms on the horizon, you find yourself drawn into the whirlwind of excitement that engulfs your boyfriend, Max Verstappen, a professional racing driver. Joining him for the tests marks the beginning of an exciting and promising year of high-speed racing.

Inside his private quarters, the anticipation hangs thick in the air as Max showcases his sleek navy blue racing suit for the very first time. With a mischievous grin, he catches your eye before slipping into the tight, dark undergarments—the fireproofs—each deliberate movement meant to show off a little.

Running a hand along your own thighs, you bite your lip. Looking down at your own clothes—the new Red Bull team gear—you're drawn to the thought of him holding you close, the faint scent of his cologne engulfing you both. It's his shirt that he gave to you just minutes prior. He wore it to the track this morning; it is still warm and smells like him. It's a little wide, but that's okay—it's his, after all, and that's what matters.

You lift your eyes, just in time to catch him tugging his trunk into his trousers. Max, watching you the whole time, smirks—he looks so good with his bare chest still on display and his thighs filling his pants easily.

Then, he slips into the upper half with a low groan, and one arm at a time, the tight fabric swings itself along his bulging biceps, shoulders, and pecs.

You vividly recall the countless hours he spent in the gym, pushing himself to the limit as he sculpted his body into a lean, mean racing machine. Drenched in sweat, his muscles straining with exertion, he remained unwavering in his pursuit of excellence, each drop of sweat a testament to his dedication and resolve.

"Like what you see?" Max teases, his voice low and husky as he flexes his muscles, the fabric molding to his form with effortless precision.

You nod, unable to tear your gaze away from him, the desire pooling in the pit of your stomach as you admire the way the fireproofs hug his every curve.

"You look incredible." You murmur, your voice barely above a whisper, as you reach out to trace the contours of his chest, the fabric smooth beneath your fingertips.

With a chuckle, Max captures your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it before slipping into the rest of the racing suit. 

Still running your other hand across his firm chest, he draws you close. His lips mere inches from yours, Max presses a tender kiss against your lips.

"It feels good," he purrs into your mouth, "but I need to put the rest on." 

Chuckling, you pull away slowly, your eyes meeting his in a locked gaze. 

"Can't wait to see it all," you say, patting his chest, You stroke him again before he takes a step back.

With practiced ease, he begins to don the racing suit, each movement fluid and deliberate as he allows you to linger in the space between you, your fingers tracing the lines of his body with gentle reservence.

The fabric clings to him like a lover's embrace, the zipper inching upward with agonizing slowness as he reveals himself to you in all his glory.

Piece by piece, he assembles his racing ensemble, each article of clothing a tantalizing glimpse into the raw power and athleticism that lie beneath. With each touch and each caress, you feel a surge of desire course through you, igniting a fire that threatens to consume you both.

As he fastens the last buckle, his eyes meet yours, a smoldering intensity burning within their depths. Pulling you close, Max allows you to feel the strength of his arms, the solidness of his chest, and the desire building up inside him.

"It feels so good to be back." He exclaims, a bright smile spreading across his soft lips.

"I can tell." Running a hand along his waistline, you let your fingertips barely brush across his crotch, the dark fabric concealing his longing excitement.

With a smirk, he nods toward the door. "We've gotta go."

Together, you make your way toward the garage, the scent of gasoline and rubber mingling with the heady rush of adrenaline as you near the track. 

Standing side by side as Max adorns himself with the essential gear—gloves and a helmet—you can't help but feel a sudden swell of pride and aluurement at the sight of him, his passion and determination radiating from every pore.

"Ready to show them what you're made of?" you ask, your voice filled with unwavering support as you watch him settle into the driver's seat.

Max flashes you a grin, his eyes alight with excitement. "You bet," he replied, his voice tinged with anticipation as he revs the engine, the roar of the car drowning out the world around you.

As he speeds off onto the track, you linger in the garage, your heart racing in tandem with the thunderous roar of the engines. Watching him maneuver with grace and precision, a sense of awe washes over you, a deep-seated admiartion for the man who never ceases to amaze you with his skill and passion.

Through the cackle of the radio, you catch snippets of his laughter, a symphony of joy reverberating through the air. In that moment—behind the wheel, pushing the car to its limit for the very first time.

Just by the tone of his voice, you can tell he is as excited as ever, with his passion for racing echoing through the radio. You know how much he loves this, speeding through corners and flying down the straights while giggling to himself.

For a while, you watch the new Red Bull finish more and more laps, being tested to its core.

When Max returns, your heart trembles in excitement.

As he steps out of the car, a wave of exhilaration emanates from him, visible in every movement and every gesture as he navigates the bustling garage with an air of confidence that is impossible to ignore.

The way he carries himself speaks volumes—a man at the top of his game, ready for another season and its challenges lying ahead.

With a huge smile plastered across his face, Max engages in animated conversations with the mechanics, his enthusiasm infectious as he shares his experience with the new car on track.

His eyes sparkle with excitement, a mirror of the joy that dances within his soul, as he makes his way toward you.

As Max draws near, his gaze locks onto yours, a magnetic pull that leaves you breathless in its wake.

Without hesitation, he pulls you into his embrace; his body presses firmly against yours, making sure to hold you close.

"How was it?" You ask, running a hand across his chest, tracing the letters written on his suit with your fingertips.

"So good." Max tries to hold back a soft moan. You're the only one who is meant to know how he feels right now.

He is completely enthralled by driving that car, with adrenaline and desire pumping through his veins—pure hedonism.

Unable to tear his gaze away, he drinks in the sight of you adorned in his team's merchandise, a proud smile gracing his lips as he adores the way the colors complement your features. 

With tenderness born of passion, he leans in, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss. Lost in the sweetness of his embrace, you melt against him, your heart beating on time with his as you savor the fleeting moments of intimacy amidst the hustle and bustle of the racing world.

Now, it's his Checo's turn to speed along the track, and the two of you decide to head back into Max's quarters.

Inside his motorhome, the air crackles with electricity as he peels off the upper half of his racing suit, revealing the snug fireproofs that hug his form like a second skin. Every movement seems amplified, every contour of his body is highlighted by the adrenaline coursing through every fiber of his body.

Max runs a hand across his thick chest, his muscles rippling beneath the fabric as he turns to face you, a confident smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Running a hand through his tousled hair, he exudes an effortless charm that never fails to leave you breathless.

"I'm so hard right now," blurts out of his mouth as he grabs himself through his tight racing suit. Due to its color, it's barely able to hide the bulge forming inside his trousers. All of this excitement building up inside him is revealing his feelings for racing, but also for having you by his side.

"Do you feel that too?" he asks, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down your spine as his gaze locks with yours. 

In that moment, with the weight of his gaze bearing down on you, you feel a surge of desire unlike anything you have ever felt before.

Steadying yourself against his strong frame, you lean in, the distance between you evaporating as your lips meet in a fervent kiss.

"So much," you breathe into him. "I just need you so much." His muscles tense at your slightest touch. 

Teasing him, you trace the contours of his form, your fingers dancing across the expanse of his chest, eliciting a low rumble of pleasure from deep down within his throat. Pulling you close, he envelops you in his embrace, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a comforting blanket.

The embrace grows tighter the more passionately you kiss each other. Both of you let your hands encompass each other's bodies, and with every little stroke and every soft touch, you give in to him more and more.

Your hand manages to slip underneath his tight shirt, feeling his warm skin and his firm muscles against your skin, giving you goosebumps.

At the same time, his hands are cupping your boobs, touching you firmly yet lovingly.

"Mhmm." You moan into him once more when he starts to grind his crotch against your thighs, making sure to let you feel his ever-growing length.

"Now?" Max's rough voice breaks as he tries to catch his breath. "I can't hold it in any longer."

His entire body is aching for relief, and he is asking you to help him find it. Your own is craving him as well, with all of you longing for him—the touch of his skin against yours, the whispered promises of unbridled passion and desire.

"Fuck." You growl once his hand slides in between the two of you and between your legs. "I need you." 

With one swift motion, he somehow manages to unbutton your jeans while you two make your way through the room. Unable to find the sofa in time, you end up with your back against the cold wall.

"Max." You let out a low groan while he keeps on kissing you, his hands now inside your pants, his fingers knowing his way around your body just like he knows the way around the different tracks. "It feels so good." 

Steadying yourself against his strong frame again, you stroke his chest and let your hand run down his body, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs through his shirt before you touch his member.

Easily, your hand slips into his racing suit and his fireproofs, touching him firmly.

Like you pushed the right buttons, Max leans his head back, one hand on his own chest, the other still inside your pants.

Your jeans slowly drop down to your ankles as he removes his hand, needing both of his hands to please himself.

"Y/N." He shudders, slowly regaining his composure, turning his head to face you again. His beautiful eyes are burning brightly, and their gaze threatens to smother you whole.

Effortlessly, you pull his dick out of his pants and fondle him for a while as he embraces you fully.

Max then leans in again, kissing you hard, this time much more possessive and determined to make you his.

Being so busy pleasing him, you don't even notice him pulling at your underwear, removing them just enough for him to fit inside you. Leaning back against the wall, you give in to him.

With a tender kiss, he slips inside your body, both of your minds shrouded by the blissful passion engulfing the two of you.

His groans, moans, and familiar smell make it easy for you to let him guide you further and further as he starts rocking his hips against yours.

Max is slowly increasing the strength and pace of his thrusts, with one of his hands pulling up your leg to make it easier for him. To steady yourself, you wrap one arm around his neck while the other strokes his chest firmly, encouraging him to keep going.

Your bodies are moving as one; Max's rhythm is easy for you to follow; and you enjoy how tight his body presses against yours.

After what feels like an eternity, you reach your limits, and simultaneously, you climax—a sensational feeling of shared desire and relief.

Max still holds you close, placing kisses all over your neck while you run a hand through his messy, sweaty hair.

"I needed that." He growls; his usual rough voice sounds much deeper, huskier, and smoother.

"Me too." Kissing him, you enjoy each other's embrace for a little while longer before he separates himself from you.

You help each other change clothes, replacing every article of clothing with a loving kiss, a gentle touch, and a shared smile.

Before it's time to leave the motorhome, you take one last look at Max's racing suit, now hanging in front of the cupboard door—a beautiful piece of art. You trace the letters of his name written on the waistline, knowing that he is yours after all.

Then, hands run along your waistline from behind, pulling you back into a warm hug.

"Thank you for being there for me, always." Max breathes into your ear, his chest tight against your back, just the way you like it.

"It's my pleasure." You reply, then turn around to look into his now soft face.

He is wearing the Red Bull shirt now—typical Max—but you wouldn't want it any other way. Stroking his chest again, you enjoy how tight his body still feels and how his clothes accentuate his form so well.

"I like that." Max lets out a guttural growl before smirking again. "It smells like you now." He blushes slightly.

"But it's mine once we're done here." You pinch his nipple playfully, causing him to giggle.

"Of course," he leans in, kissing you again before it's time to head to a team meeting.

[doromoni]

A Rivalry Misunderstood | LN4

Ships : Lando Norris x McLaren Driver! Reader

Genre : Angst , Romance

Warning : Toxic! Lando , Possessive! Lando

Summary : You’re the new Golden Rookie of McLaren F1 , a driver loved and accepted by everyone. But Lando may beg to differ.

masterlist

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Quickly passing by every motorhome as you joyfully skip through the paddock , signing merchandise and taking photos with the fans. The Sprint race had just finished — with you getting your first Formula 1 win as a rookie! Well technically, but you were happy either way. Congratulations and pats on the back were constant from your team and even competitors as you made your way towards your own motorhome.

Life as a rookie in formula 1 had its ups and downs , majority of the people around have been supportive. However, oddly enough, you expected the least person to be against you would be your teammate … yet, here we are. You never understood Lando’s dislike towards you , it was so out of the blue and you could not think of anything you could have done to earn his mistrust.

You were always on your best behavior, and you always made an effort to be friendly towards your senior driver. You always made sure that you were cautious and that you didn’t step on any toes.

Busy with your thoughts, you reached your motorhome. So here you are, walking towards your designated driver room. Nearing the hallway of your destination.Head filled with thoughts but at the same time empty, not noticing the built figure as you turned the corner. Both bodies weren't aware of the other person, bumping into each other with a thump.

The person was heavy for sure, a built composed of lean and hard muscles. How would you know? He was currently lying on top of you. You were pressed by his chest, while he was on top of you. Yup … definitely muscled, you can feel it through your fireproofs

" Urghh, watch where you're going " you groaned in pain. Suddenly , you were face to face with the your teammate, Lando Norris.

His face was painted with an expression you cannot understand ... His toned arms were beside your head, trapping you between him and the floor . You stared at your co-driver, his hazelnut brown wavy hair, dark emerald eyes as green as the amazon forest, and a jawline that could rival a sword.

Unconsciously, your hand trailed the bridge of his nose to the soft and plump lower lip that the man possessed.

" What the hell are you doing" Stopping yourself from examining him more, and finally connected the dots. You were pressed on the floor by Lando Norris! The person who hated you and wanted you gone.

Almost automatically, you put your hands on his chest — an effort to push him . But alas, your efforts were null, when he suddenly pinned your hands above your head.

Struggling from his iron grip, and sighing into submission and decided to use your brain rather than brawn. Since trying to force yourself out would do you no good, knowing that he was much stronger than you were.

Having enough of his attitude and his harsh treatment , you realized being nice was never going to work— and that you don’t actually care about what he thought of you. And for the first time with him , you set your foot down and served him the attitude that he served you all the time that you were his teammate.

"I think your male bravado is content now, right? having a girl defenseless and restricted. I suggest letting me go now " you felt his hold on your wrist grow even tighter.

Steeling your front , you stared back into his glare, challenging his piercing glare.

"Why? Do you have somewhere to go? Have more people to suck up to? Don't you think that's low ,even for you?" A dangerous glint in his eyes. And an animosity in his voice that you couldn't decipher. He drew his face closer to yours, you felt his breath on your cheeks , an inch more his lips would touch yours.

Suddenly finding the situation amusing, a chuckle slipped your lips. Your chuckling then turned into laughter, and this stunned Lando, as he stared at your face, still sharing the same breath.

He can’t beat you on track, so he now uses other tactics to up you. Funny.

"Funny, such accusation are done by you , don't you think? Oh that's right its because the team actually prefers me now over you. Now that I’ve actually given them a win... hmm or maybe we all should be like you and bow and cower when max’s car shows in the mirror? “

Of course that wasn’t true, you just wanted to aggravate the English driver more. Once again, you tried prying your hands off his grip.

"Shut the fuck up . You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. " Lando bit back with so much animosity. You were definitely scared now .

Realizing that you are in the middle of a hall way and is still beneath Lando, you once again struggled to push him off.

" You know what, let go of me! I need to go to the debriefing for Pete's sake" You started squiggling trying to move away from under him, when an deep growl vibrated through your ear, causing shivers down your spine and goosebumps littering the nape of your neck.

"Don't.Move" Hearing him swallow and steady his breath, you smirked as you lay still below him and glared into his eyes challenging him further

Lando finally lets go of you as he stood up. Scrambling to your feet and dusting yourself off ; adjusting your driver suit and fixing your hair. You the felt his stare on you.

"What? The hell are you staring at?" With a scowl, you folded your arms and returned his stare with a glare.

"You changed your fireproofs" You looked down at your clothes . Your race suit was half open and your fireproofs were showing.

"What? Even my uniform you've got issues with? Should I also have my uniform exactly like yours instead? " you asked with a sneer as you patted the crease on your pants

"Stop trying to be different from everyone on the team! Fucking mooching on every mechanic . Know. your. fucking. place “ The British driver said scathingly.

Suddenly pissed, you decided to provoke Lando even further. Having enough of his bullshit. You drew your body near his , going on your tippy toes and placing a delicate hand on his chest, slowly dragging your fingernails to draw patterns on his fireproofs, feeling him tense under my touch. Fuck it! You were already a slut in his eyes anyway.

Slowly moving your lips to his jaw then towards his ear and whispered

"Does that make you angry, hmm, Lando? little ol me taking your precious spotlight? People adoring me instead of you. “ You tutted , making sure your voice held rotting sweetness

“All eyes on me. Does that make your blood boil? You getting nothing while I have everything, Lando?" Adding emphasis on his name, you gently moved your hand towards his hair and pulled.

Feeling Lando freeze and grow rigid from your touch you chuckled, you were about to move away, when you felt a hand wrap around your waist and suddenly pinning you against the wall with force.

" Don't fucking test me princess. Your playing a dangerous game. No one will look at you, I'll make sure of that.... Don’t prance around trying to win everyone to your side, you’re only mine to look at “ His lips ghosting the shell of your earlobe as he pulled you into his embrace even tighter.

Your breath hitched when you felt his teeth nip your ear. His lips traveled down your jaw to your neck, harshly biting the skin he traveled. He licked the junction of your neck and your shoulder, sucking and lapping his tongue over the bite. He let out a moan while you whimpered.

" Baby? I Never knew you could taste this good" Speechless , you stared at him as he licked his lips, your mind trying to gather any thought it could process.

"Win all the races you want, I don’t care. But don’t fucking flirt with anyone … and I don’t care if he’s your engineer. " With a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze on your waist , Lando was gone

You stood shocked, heart pounding, in the deserted hallway,trying to piece everything that just happened.

[metafurrikitty]

i've never liked how pokemon always looked the same except for some cases in the anime where they needed characters to not get confused. like realistically wouldn't they have a slight variety of patterns, hues, eye colors, fluff levels??

anyway i decided to make edits of the eeveelutions because this was bothering me. i also wrote headcanons i have about them so here it is

eevee's can come in darker or lighter shades of brown, and have a variety of cream and/or dark brown markings including spots, stripes, and points. some species of eevee have cream tufts of fur in their ears. the length and thickness of their fur can vary depending on their climate. they can also have lop ears. depending on what they evolve into, all of these traits can carry over into their eeveelution.

vaporeons may have a dorsal fin on its tail depending on its species and where its from. certain climates require faster or easier turns in the water, which results in them evolving this additional fin. they may also have fins on their forearms and legs. despite them being sort of blubber-y, vaporeons can appear fluffier if they are from a colder environment. of all patterns, they most often have spots and stripes like a tiger shark. they can have purple, pink, or blue eyes. when a lop eared eevee evolves into a vaporeon, their ear-like fins are lower.

like the domestic cats that they resemble, espeons have a wide variety of purple hues and patterns. they also have many different shapes of forehead gems, sometimes even being a heart. people speculate horoscopes for the shape of an espeons forehead gem in relation to their personalities, but none of it is professor oak approved. their tail can be split at diffurent points from the base of the tail to the very end of it. on rare occasions, an espeon will have two tails or one tail that is ever so slightly split at the end. an espeons eyes can be purple, pink, or blue. when a lop eared eevee evolves into espeon, it is not very noticeable as espeons ears are more cat-like as compared to the rest of the eeveelutions.

flareons can grow a lot of head fur, which is fun to cut into different haircuts. in the wild, a flareon will simply burn the extra hair off if it gets too long. (unsure of this since that would mean it is not fireproof, but whatever) they can have lots of patterns as well, especially point patterns and stripes. their orange and yellow coat can vary in darkness and hue as well, and although blue is most common, their eyes can be lots of different colors.

umbreons have the longest canines of all the eeveelutions, and sometimes they can be big enough to poke out from their mouths when closed. an umbreons rings also vary a lot, and can be anywhere on their bodies as long as they are symmetrical. they can also sometimes have freckles in the same color as their rings. even though they are black, they can have patterns that are visible in the light, including stripes, spots and points. their eyes can be red, brown, orange, or pink. umbreons sometimes grow a hyena-like mane along its head and back.

sylveons can have any number of bows on any part of their bodies, though the most typical places are at the base of the tail, the front or back of the neck, the ears, and the top of the head. multiple ribbons can grow from a sylveon's bow, and they can be all kinds of lengths at rest. the ribbon colors of pink, blue and cyan can be in any different order. they can have pink markings including stripes, spots and points. a sylveons widows peak can dip very low or not at all. their eyes can be blue, pink or purple.

jolteons can sometimes have longer tails depending on their species. the size of the spines on their back also varies a lot, and they can grow as the jolteon gets older. they most often have orange stripes, but can also have spots and points. they will have white markings sometimes, too. sometimes they have markings in the shape of a lightning bolt. a jolteons eyes can be purple, pink, or red.

leafeons can grow lots of sprouts all over their bodies, and will usually have more the older they get. they can also grow flowers of many kinds, which will bloom and wilt with the seasons like normal. it doesn't hurt the leafeon to pick their flowers or trim their leaves, but it is reccommended to leave their sprouts alone unless they get excessively long as they help the leafeon photosynthesize. spots of brown or light greenish colors can appear on a leafeons leaves. they can also have stripes, spots, or points. they can have any shade of brown or green eyes, as well as blue on rare occassions.

lastly, glaceons vary a lot in their fur thickness depending on the fur it inherits from its eevee form. they don't require long fur as they don't need to stay warm, so its really only a vestigal leftover trait from needing to stay warm when it was an eevee. a glaceons "bangs" can be diffurent in shape and size. the same hard, thick ice that they are made from can sometimes appear on other parts of glaceons body, clinging to its fur like makeshift armor. if the ice is broken it does not hurt the glaceon. they too can have all kinds of patterns, including stripes, spots and points. they will often have diamond shaped patterns. their eyes can only be blue or brown.

somewhat inspired by @belamew

that's all. might add more to this :pp

[stickybowl]

audi tp carlos/driver oscar wip

Oscar wins the championship. It's fireworks shooting into the sky. It’s loud cheers in his ear both from his radio and from the grandstands. It’s the champagne sneaking into his fireproof. It's a heavy weight being lifted from his shoulders. The air knocked out from his chest. Oscar feels everything all at once.

'This is only the beginning, Oscar.', Mark whispers in his ear and he believes it.

Except he's not sure anymore. Oscar Piastri won the championship two years ago but has not even been close to a win ever since. Lando left McLaren a year after Oscar won his championship.

At the time, everyone thought it's because Lando knew he would never win a championship with Oscar as his teammate. But now as he looks at Lando at the podium wearing dark blue, he thinks maybe that was not entirely the reason why he left. Possibly, not a reason at all.

But who would have predicted that McLaren would go backwards after such excellent years?

"Oscar."

He turns and sees brown eyes still as intense as they were when they first met his. He breathes deeply and accepts the handshake offered to him.

"Great race." Carlos says and clasps his other hand on his shoulder. Oscar winces a bit, feeling his fingers dig into his skin. He's not sure if he's just imagining it.

Carlos Sainz retired from driving a long time ago. Didn't even wait for Oscar to win the championship so he can rub it in his face. Shame. He still sees Carlos in the paddock from time to time. Still glued to Lando's side after all these years. Maybe even more so now that he's not competing with Lando anymore.

Oscar scoffs with humour, "Yeah. Great race." If you can call a p5 which he barely held onto anything, it surely wouldn’t be the word great.

Carlos raises one eyebrow at him. "Not happy, huh?"

The hand on his shoulder has found its way back on Carlos’s jeans pocket and he suddenly wishes it was still on his shoulder, pressure firm. Just to ground him.

He hasn't been happy with the team, with the car for some time now. But this is his team. The one he made his debut with. The one he won races with. The one he won a championship with. But it's not enough. Oscar wants more. He always wants more. But he can't say that. He hasn't said it to anyone else but Mark who was probably the first one to frown at McLaren's faults even before Oscar noticed it.

He sure as hell would not share it to Carlos. He’s not a threat. He's nothing in the paddock anymore. He just comes here to entertain himself. Still, Oscar won't put it past Carlos to run his big mouth around the paddock.

"I'm as happy as I can be." He shrugs.

Carlos laughs, disbelief dancing in his eyes. Oscar wants to claw at Carlos' skin and scream. What do you know? You don't know me. You don't even know the team you used to work for anymore.

Oscar nods his goodbye and leaves. No point in souring his mood even more than it is by standing next to Carlos who still thinks he knows better than Oscar.

You've never won a championship, Carlos. What could you possibly know that I don't?

"Oscar."

Oscar stops at his tracks but doesn't turn. He rolls his eyes thinking god, does he ever stop talking?

"You know you could have more than this. You deserve more."

Oscar shakes his head and continues walking. He's not gonna stand there and let Carlos tell him what he already knows. Oscar has been in formula one for years. He's already made his mark in the sport. He's adored. He's looked up to. But speaking with Carlos still makes him feel like the rookie he was once. Enthusiastic and eager. Maybe a little foolish. He's not listening to carlos.

"Jesus christ."

Oscar sits in his living room, his phone on hand lit up with an image Mark just sent him.

'You want me to talk to him?' Mark sends.

Carlos Sainz new Audi F1 Team principal.

Oscar runs a hand down his face. As it turns out, Carlos still does know some things Oscar doesn't.

'Yes, please.' he replies.

Damn it.

[37sommz]

❁ : watching the world go by . . .

✼. masterlist — taglist — request. ✼. genre: fluff with a touch of angst. ✼. wc: 2.3k.

despite their rocky partnership, the final race of 2021 presents a chance to repair the burnt bridges between the two mclaren drivers. abu dhabi presents one last chance for unity: beat ferrari.

✼. warnings: language, ferrari slander.

✼. notes: had to take a step back after the outcome of the election. but here's a little something about ad21. no angst here just lando and michaela getting along for 3 seconds before shit gets real lol

000.⠀⠀DECEMBER 12, 2021    ›    Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates

The sun had dipped below the horizon of the Yas Marina Circuit, leaving behind a lingering warmth that danced with the neon lights of Abu Dhabi reflecting off the asphalt. The scent of burnt rubber and fuel hung high in the air, a mixture that almost brought a smile to Michaela's face. Her heart raced with anticipation as she prepared herself for the last race of the 2021 season, her race suit tied in a knot around her waist as her McLaren fireproofs contrasted against her sun-tanned skin.

Michaela took a moment to survey the McLaren garage, her symbol of organized chaos. The pit crew moved with a charming precision, each member aware of their role in the pattern of preparation. She felt a hand on her shoulder and turned to find Lando, her teammate, flashing a genuine smile. His dark eyes met hers, the rivalry of the season's past fading into the background as they shared a moment of mutual respect.

"You ready to kick some Prancing Horse ass?" he asked, his accent cutting through the buzz of the garage. McLaren and Ferrari, like Mercedes and Red Bull, were level in the Constructors' Championship at the last race. In the grand scheme of strategy, the McLaren strategists had one bottom line: finish in front.

Michaela returned the smile. "Always." Her signature pink helmet rested at her side, a warm contrast to Lando's cool blue. The competition between them had grown exponentially over the season, but tonight, it was all about unity. The two drivers shared a routine fist bump before parting ways, each retreating to their respective corners for final preparations.

In the midst of the comfortable chaos of the garage, a sense of calmness washed over her as she stepped into her car. The cockpit was her safe haven, a place where she felt more at home than anywhere else in the world. She took a deep breath, the faint scent of leather and carbon fiber filling her nose. She pulled the helmet over her head, the world outside falling away, as she focused solely on the task at hand. 

Beat Ferrari.

The lights went out, and the roar of the engines filled the night sky. The race began with an energy that matched the neon lights in the air. She and Lando pushed their McLarens to the limits, fighting tooth and nail to keep their Carlos and Charles at bay. The tension grew with every lap, each pass and pit stop meticulously planned and executed.

Michaela's eyes remained glued to the track ahead, her mind a whirlwind of strategy and instinct. Her hands moved with a grace that belied their power, dancing over the steering wheel and shifting gears with practiced grace. Her car responded to her every command, an extension of her will. The crowd's cheers grew distant as she entered the zone, her focus narrowed to the task of outracing her rivals.

The race was tight, with all four drivers refusing to give an inch to one another. The anticipation grew unbearable, each corner a potential battleground where the season's outcome could be decided. Sweat beaded on her brow as the excitement made her heart race. She could feel the pressure, the weight of her team's expectations, and the desire to prove herself.

In the final laps, the McLaren garage grew completely still. The strategists whispered urgently into their headsets, watching the monitors with eyes that never blinked. The pit crew stood restless, crossing their fingers as the safety car approached the line, having been ordered to come into the pits to allow for one last lap of racing. In the cockpit, Michaela's heart pounded in her chest, this was it.

The safety car dove into the pits and the cars surged forward. On the straight, she saw the Yuki's Alpha Tauri in front of her, the only car separating herself from Carlos in 3rd. Pierre was closing in close behind her. Her knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as she pushed the pedal to the floor, her car screaming in protest. The final corner approached, and she knew it was now or never. She took a deep breath, her muscles tensing as she readied herself for the decisive move.

With a burst of speed, she darted to the inside of Yuki, the sound of the tires screeching echoing in her helmet. The crowd's roar grew deafening, and a wave of sound washed over the track as Max overtook Lewis. Her pulse quickened and her every sense heightened. The finish line was so close she could almost touch it.

Michaela's heart pounded as she saw her opportunity. The gap between Yuki and Carlos was narrowing, but she had the better line. She took a deep breath and made her move, her car sliding sideways. The tires found grip just as she pulled in front of Yuki, the G-forces pushing her into the seat.

The cheers grew louder as the cars approached the final straight. The Ferrari was in her sights, the checkered flag waving in the distance. The engine screamed in protest as she pushed the power to the limit, inching closer to Carlos. Her mind raced with the knowledge that this could be her moment, the one that would define the season.

Another blink and she was over the line, 4th to Carlos' 3rd. With Lando in 8th and Charles landing outside of the points, Michaela couldn't help the cheer that left her lips. The crowd's applause washed over her, but it was the excitement in her engineer's voice that sent a thrill through her veins. The race was over, the season concluded. As she slowed her car to enter the cool-down lap, a mix of euphoria and exhaustion swirled within her. The pit lane was a blur of waving flags and flashing lights as she made her way back to the garage.

The moment she stepped out of the car, the world rushed back in. Her crew swarmed her, their faces a mix of elation and relief. They'd done it. They'd brought McLaren back to the top 3. The joy overflowed as they all hugged and high-fived, sharing in the victory over their Italian rivals.

As the adrenaline subsided, the weight of the season's end settled in. It was time to celebrate, but also to reflect. The dinner with the team was a tradition, a chance to put aside the competition and revel in their collective success. The venue was a gorgeous restaurant with a view of the marina, the kind of place that whispered of wealth and tiny portions.

The team chatted and laughed, sharing stories from the season. The tension between Lando and Michaela had dissipated, at least for the night. They raised their glasses, toasting to the engineers who had crunched the numbers, the pit crew who had changed tires in a heartbeat, and the strategists who had orchestrated their battles from the garage. Lando spoke first, his words genuine and heartfelt, thanking everyone for their hard work and friendship. Then it was Michaela's turn.

Michaela's voice was steady as she began. "You all know how much this season has meant to me," she said, looking around the table. "This team gave me a home, a chance to prove myself. And together, we've done some incredible things." She paused, her gaze lingering on each face. "We didn't just race together this season; we fought, we learned, and we grew as one. To each of you," she lifted her glass, "Thank you for the long days and thrilling moments. Thank you for making this season one I'll never forget."

The room grew quieter, the air thick with emotion. The crew's eyes shone with pride, and even the stoic engineers couldn't hold back smiles. The toast was met with a round of applause, glasses clinking together in a harmony of appreciation.

"And now," Lando announced, "As a gift from me and Mick." His use of her nickname brought a smile to her eyes. "The bill's on us tonight."

The room erupted in cheers. The team's faces lit up with astonishment, and a chorus of 'thank you' echoed around the table. The tension of the race had been replaced by a warm cheerfulness, the mood growing more festive as the drinks made their rounds.

As the night progressed, the conversation grew more relaxed. The strategists regaled the group with tales of their last-minute decisions and the engineers spoke of their ingenious solutions to mid-race issues. The pit crew laughed at the more comical moments of the season, and the drivers shared stories of their off-track escapades.

Zak eventually made his way around the table, speaking to each member of the team, his eyes filled with genuine gratitude. When he reached Michaela, he paused, his hand on her shoulder. "You've had quite the year, young lady," he said, his American accent standing out against the sound of the bustling room. "I'm proud to be able to call you one of us. There's no doubt in my mind that you've been a dedicated part of the team since day one and I can't wait to see what you do next, kid."

Michaela felt a warmth spread through her at his words. "Thank you, Zak," she replied, her voice a mix of pride and something else she couldn't quite name. "I just want to make sure we keep moving forward."

He nodded, his gaze serious. "I know you're looking for that #1 spot," he said, his voice low enough to be just for her. "And I'll consider it, I promise. But you know the business. You've got to keep pushing, keep showing us what you're made of."

Michaela took a sip of her champagne, her mind racing. She had felt the sting of the team's indecision before, the way they often played favorites. "I get it," she said, her voice measured. "But my contract's up at the end of 2022. I need to know if McLaren is going to back me fully, or if I should start looking elsewhere."

Zak's eyes searched hers, understanding her urgency. "I know you have options," he replied. "And we want you to stay. But I can't make promises without considering the full picture."

The words hung in the air, a gentle reminder of the unspoken truth of their world. The business of Formula 1 was a cutthroat one, where loyalties could shift as quickly as the wind. The night grew later, and the conversations grew quieter. The celebration had reached its crescendo, and the room was now filled with the mellow buzz of satisfaction.

Michaela couldn't shake the feeling that her future was up in the air. She took another sip of her champagne, letting the bubbles dance on her tongue, before setting the glass aside. The taste of victory was sweet, but the bitter aftertaste of uncertainty lingered.

The party eventually wound down, the last of the crew members leaving the restaurant with a mix of laughter and yawns. The quiet was a stark contrast to the deafening roars of the race and the cheers of the night. Only a few remained, including Lando, who was deep in conversation with a group of engineers, and the strategists, who were already dissecting the race's data.

Michaela took the opportunity to slip away, stepping out into the cool night air. The marina was alive with the sound of distant music and the hum of conversation. She leaned against the railing, watching the lights dance on the water, lost in thought. The season had been a spectrum of emotions, from the exhilaration of the top step to the bitter taste of defeat. Now, with the off-season approaching, she faced the uncertainty of her future with McLaren.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the soft footsteps of someone joining her. She looked over to see Lando, a rare moment of quiet reflectiveness etched on his face. "Mind if I join?" he asked, holding up a fresh drink.

Michaela nodded, a small smile playing at the corner of her lips. They stood side by side for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts about the race, the season, and conversations with Zak. The cool breeze of the marina was a welcome relief from the stuffy air of the restaurant.

"Can I just say something?" Lando finally broke the silence, his eyes still on the water.

Michaela turned to look at him, curiosity piqued. "Sure."

"I know this season hasn't been easy for us," Lando said, his gaze never leaving the water. "The rivalry, the pressure. But, I've got to admit, it's brought out the best driver in me. And I think it's done the same for you."

Michaela studied his profile, the reflection of the marina's lights dancing in his eyes. "It definitely has," she conceded, the tension between them easing.

"Look, I know we've had our moments," Lando continued, taking a sip of his drink. "But I just want you to know, I respect the hell out of you. You push me, and I know we can both do great things if we keep this up."

Michaela nodded, a sense of understanding passing between them. They had been adversaries, allies, and rivals all in one season. Yet, as they stood there, she knew that they shared a bond that extended beyond the track. "Thanks, Lando," she said, her voice soft. "The same goes for me too."

They remained there, side by side, watching the water dance. The tension of the season had brought them closer than they had ever been, and for a brief moment, the future didn't matter.

For a brief moment, they were just two friends, watching the world go by.

[fxrmuladaydreams]

Imagine this, Logan score points in the first race of the 2024 season and him and reader celebrate (if you know what I mean)

send me logan blurb requests (sfw & nsfw) for logan weekend

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! oral (m receiving)

Logan felt on top of the world. He had been pretty confident in the car after testing, but he hadn’t really thought about the possibility of scoring points, especially as early as Bahrain.

He knew 9th place wasn’t something to be as thrilled about as he was, but he had scored points, without any other drivers having to disqualified to put him there. His two points, along with Alex’s six set Williams in a decent place for the start of the season.

He swept you up in his arms once he found you after the race, a bright smile stuck on his face. He took you with him back to his driver’s room to change out of his race suit before his post race interviews.

You couldn’t help but admire him as he grabbed his clothes from the shelf in his room. The dark blue race suit had always looked good on him, but his new sense of confidence looked great on him too.

Of course the navy suit that hung low on his hips looked good, but the white fireproofs that hugged his torso looked even better. The defining lines of his abdomen and the muscles in his chest were almost highlighted from the white material.

You pull him away from his pile of fresh clothes to give him a soft kiss. He smiles against your lips, leaning into you.

“I’m proud of you Lo.” You tell him.

Your hands start at his shoulders, massaging their way down his chest, over his abs, to fiddle with his race suit.

“So, so, proud of you.” You murmur as you slowly sink down to your knees.

His eyes widen as he watches you tug his suit further down his legs. “Babe, there are people right outside.” He says, trying to convince you that this is a bad idea, but his cock hardens as you pull his fireproofs down as well.

“Do you not want me?” You ask, looking up at him with your best puppy dog eyes. You palm him through his boxers feeling him grow beneath the fabric.

He bites down on his bottom lip as he tries to hold in a whine. “I want you, I want you so bad.”

“Then just try to keep quiet.” You tell him as you tug his underwear down.

His cock springs free, slapping against his fireproof shirt. He leans against the wall for some support as he looks down at you.

You lick a long stripe up the underside of him, then kitten lick the tip, moaning at the salty taste of his precum.

His hands hover in the air as you take him in your mouth, unsure of where to rest. You reach up and pull them down to rest on your head, encouraging him to guide you.

You swirl your tongue around him, taking him deeper in your mouth, slightly gagging when you feel him hit the back of your throat. You glance up at him, a feeling of pride spreading through your chest.

Logan looks absolutely fucked. His head is thrown back against the wall, his eyes squeezed shut. His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth, he’s holding back any sounds, afraid of them slipping out and sharing your post-race activities with the rest of the Williams team. He feels even closer to his climax when he looks down at you.

There’s a bit of drool gathered at the corner of your mouth, and tears in your eyes. You look impossibly innocent, your big eyes staring back up at him.

You pull away from him, a trail of saliva connecting your lips to his cock. “I want you to cum in my mouth.” You tell him, then wrap your lips around him again.

You suck him off faster now, taking him as deep as you can. You use your hands to stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.” He whimpers.

You hollow your cheeks around him, and soon you feel him shooting his cum down your throat. You moan around him, taking every last drop he’s giving you. You pull yourself off of him only when you feel like he’s actually finished cumming. You swallow his release, then give him a lazy smile.

He helps you up off the floor, out of breath, and a little out of it himself. You help him get changed and ready for his media duties, but stop him before he can step outside.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet baby boy. That was just the beginning. You’re getting one orgasm for every point tonight.” You tell him.

“I can’t wait to climb up in the standings then.”

[spicyclover]

The Racer's Victory

Y/n awaits her boyfriend Max and their desire ignites. In his private room, she undresses, teases herself, and welcomes his touch. Their sexual tension explodes in a powerful, intimate union.

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

Y/n's heart was racing, her anticipation building as she awaited the arrival of her boyfriend, Max. The young woman, with her vibrant hair, piercing blue eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose, had spent the entire day at the race track, but her mind hadn't been solely focused on the competition. All she could think about was Max, his strong physique encased in his racing suit, and the promise of his muscular body against hers.

As the trophy ceremony concluded, signaling Max's victory in the race, Y/n made her way to his designated driver's room, a private sanctuary amidst the bustling track. The room was dimly lit, with a subtle scent of motor oil lingering in the air. She knew Max would be brimming with adrenaline and excitement, and she intended to channel that energy into something far more intimate.

She couldn't wait any longer. The anticipation was killing her. With a mischievous smile, Y/n approached the massage table, her eyes scanning the room to ensure she was alone. Her hands trailed along the smooth surface of the table, her fingers tracing the edges as she imagined Max's powerful hands working on her body.

Slipping out of her dress, she revealed her curvaceous figure, her skin flushed with desire. She climbed onto the table, her bare skin caressing the soft surface. Her hands roamed over her body, cupping her full breasts, pinching her pink nipples until they hardened further. She let out a soft moan, her fingers dipping lower, sliding through her moist curls to find her throbbing clit.

Y/n began to rub herself against the table, her hips moving in a slow, sensual rhythm. Her fingers worked their magic, circling her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure. She bit her lip, her breath coming in short gasps as pleasure coursed through her body. Her moans filled the room, a mixture of desire and frustration as she longed for Max's touch.

Just as her pleasure peaked, she heard the door open. It was Max, his face still flushed with victory, his dark eyes sparkling with desire as he took in the sight before him. Y/n made no move to hide herself, instead spreading her legs wider, inviting him to join her.

Max wasted no time. He strode across the room, his race suit still on, and placed his hand firmly on her pussy, feeling the heat radiating from her. He growled softly, his voice hoarse with need. "You've been waiting for me, haven't you, baby?"

Y/n nodded, her eyes locked on his. "I need you, Max. I've been dying to feel your dick inside me all day."

With swift movements, Max unzipped his suit, revealing his broad chest and toned abs. He lowered his fireproof underwear, his thick cock springing free, already hard and straining towards her. He positioned himself between her thighs, his hands gripping her hips as he guided himself into her wet heat.

He thrust into her with one powerful stroke, filling her completely. Y/n cried out, her back arching off the table as she welcomed him inside. Max pounded into her, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm, the table creaking beneath them. His breath came in hot pants, his lips brushing her neck, his beard tickling her sensitive skin.

"You feel so fucking good," he grunted, his voice raw with passion. "I love hearing you moan, Y/n."

Y/n's hands clutched at his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin as she matched his rhythm. She could feel her orgasm building, each thrust bringing her closer to the edge. Max's lips found her ear, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "Come for me, baby. Let me feel that tight pussy squeezing my cock."

His words sent her over the edge. Y/n's body trembled as she climaxed, her pussy clenching around him, milking his cock. Max groaned, his own release building as he thrust harder, faster, until he buried himself deep within her.

As their hearts slowed and their breathing returned to normal, Max gently disengaged from her, his cock sliding out with a wet sound. He helped Y/n off the table, his hands roaming over her body, caressing her curves. "Let's take this to the couch," he whispered, his eyes dark with desire.

Y/n smiled, her body still buzzing with post-orgasmic bliss. She led him to the small couch in the corner of the room, her movements graceful despite her wobbly knees. She straddled him, her hands resting on his broad shoulders as she lowered herself onto his hard shaft.

This time, Y/n was in control. She set a slow, teasing pace, rising and falling on his cock, her pussy gripping him tightly. Max's hands moved to her hips, guiding her movements, but she set the rhythm, her eyes never leaving his. She leaned forward, her breasts brushing his chest, her lips finding his in a passionate kiss.

As she felt his cock twitch within her, signaling his impending release, Y/n had a playful idea. She tightened her thighs around him, locking him in place, and stopped moving. Max's eyes flew open, his breath catching in his throat. "What...?" he managed to ask, his voice hoarse.

"Shh..." Y/n whispered, her lips close to his ear. "I want to feel you beg for it."

Max's eyes widened, his cock throbbing inside her. "Please... baby, please move," he begged, his pride momentarily forgotten. "I need to cum so bad."

Y/n smiled, her pussy muscles clenching and releasing around his sensitive cock. "Do you like that? Feeling my pussy pull on your dick?" She whispered, her breath hot against his neck.

"Fuck, yes!" Max groaned, his hands gripping her thighs, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. "I love it... Oh, god, Y/n..."

Unable to resist any longer, Y/n began to move again, her hips rolling in slow circles, driving him wild. Max's hands found her breasts, squeezing and kneading them as he thrust up to meet her. With a final, desperate growl, he climaxed, his cock pulsating as he filled her with his hot cum.

Feeling his release, Y/n's own orgasm crashed over her. She cried out, her body shaking as waves of pleasure rippled through her. She collapsed onto his chest, their sweat-slicked bodies pressed together, their hearts pounding in unison.

Max chuckled softly, his hands stroking her hair. "That was incredible, but I'm not done with you yet," he whispered, his lips brushing her forehead. "I promise to take you well tonight, baby."

With a final, lingering kiss, Max stood, his cock slipping out of her with a satisfying pop. He grabbed a towel, gently cleaning her up, his touch tender and loving. "I'll be back soon," he said, his eyes holding hers. "I just need to take care of a few things."

Y/n smiled, her body sated and satisfied, as Max left the room, already planning their next passionate encounter.

[ariathelamia]

Hellhound HRT Month 9.5, (4 month Wolf, 5.5 month Hellhound)

Warning: This story gets a bit dark at the end.

Tic Tacs and New Clothes… 

Well… This little segment is gonna be hard to remember…. but remember I must… … since I myself… actually am unable to write or record anything right now but… ngh… better recount the steps on what got me into this predicament… 

So there I was, strolling down the shopping street of Hyper City, slurping some cold soda I got from the restaurant since I really needed something to keep me cool today. Since I pretty much burned through all my favorite shirts and tops except for this one, trying to get a hang on that flaming core of mine. Speaking of! Something I noticed about the fur on my chest is that some of it started to get REALLY solid… From the looks of it, the texture it’s taking on really reminds me of what Nyarlathotep and Mars have on their heads… I believe I remember Mars calling it a “crest”, another sign that I myself am not just becoming any kinda hellhound… but an Eldritch one. Don’t think I ever heard of something like that existing, which means there’s no one I can really ask about what to expect but to be fair… when was this ever the case in my transition, ever since I did that ritual. I shrug to myself, thinking that hey, just gotta be the first one so I can teach others that might choose this down the line~ sorta like Felic- i mean Felix that helped me figure out how to work my tail. Thinking about that just made me kinda excited, and I just had to give that pill bottle in my pocket a little tab… why was I so goddamn stupid to bring it with me… 

I decided to go get some tic tacs at a kiosk, was craving sweets that day like crazy! 

Putting those in my left pocket I strolled down the street, without a care when I accidentally bumped into someone…. A woman, not much taller than I was in a blue dress, I got worried that I might have hurt her… maybe she bumped into my chest? I didn't know so I sprung up and helped her. Looks like i wasn’t the first person she bumped into today, and she decided to be kind enough to suddenly and unexpectedly pat the dirt off my pants and shirt. I was trying my best to keep her hand that was patting my shirt from accidentally touching my crest so she didn’t cut or burn herself. After she was satisfied she stood straight, dusted herself off as well and then looked me in the eyes… something about them was odd… they were kinda… glassy, oh god was she about to cry?... no it seemed different... (Of course it felt different-... that's when it must have happened-... god i was such an idiot.. AM such an idiot-... urgh… focus FOCUS!!) 

We… said our goodbyes and she left down the road smiling… I sighed, put my hand into my right pocket and pulled out the little tic tac bottle… popped two into my mouth and-... god they tasted weird…  still sweet but something about them was off… they melted quickly and i decided to just shrug it off to my taste being different now, and headed to my destination.

A friend of mine told me how, when she transitioned into a Lamia, she definitely needed some fitting clothes that also kept her warm and mobile, and found this pretty awesome place that apparently other people she knew frequented and keeps all kinds of pretty cool clothes for pretty much any kinda therian out there.  So yeah i hoped they also had something fireproof that doesn’t melt or burn away, but also got more style than that stupid blue and gray hospital shirt they gave me in bulk…

So yeah I ended up finding that place pretty quickly, the “Heart Mender Boutique”. Looked pretty neat from the outside… but something made my hair stand up for a second when I decided to enter…  By now I could already tell, something bigger hid in this place. But I just shrugged it off, popped a few more tic tacs from my dispenser I grabbed out of my right pocket.. must have been like… 10 or 12 at once… after all the first two pretty much disappeared right away. That same shiver ran through my body again and I had to stop myself from gagging… even though the taste didn't seem so bad?? damn my body was getting weird (... getting weird my ass…) …. Anyway I looked around for a second by myself, checking some of the strange designs they had, some of these shirts were HUUUUGE, others really freaking tiny… some had extra sleeves for wings or extra arms… some were a bit more loose which probably could fit some nice amount of furr in, without pressing it all against your body… pant’s with tail holes… clothes that were waterproof… there were even some labeled to be “Shapeshift resistant”... still wonder how THAT works… but i couldn’t really find the fireproof ones… if they even had any… so I had decided to look around for some customer service… Didn’t take me long to find some that seemed to know what they were doing. There was a older woman, dressed in a lavender dress and a purple overcoat, neat dark purple hairstyle and a certain skin complexion that i just couldn’t remember the name of, even if i tried, who did later introduce herself as Willow, talking to another, younger employee with messy long hair and a clothing style that was quite more my kinda thing, which i would find out is called Samara. I approached the two since I weirdly felt even the slightest bit of a connection to them in my gut, waving to the two and interrupting their talk.

As it turned out I hit the jackpot since Willow was apparently one of the owners of the store, who was quite happy to help me out. Not that the other one wasn’t giving me a few looks up and down, already checking me out to probably see what kinda clothes could fit… though now that i think back on it… she did seem a bit tense after i approached… just like willow… but i just wrote it off to having been suddenly pulled out of their conversation by a hellhound with a smoking hot top… literally. Anyway after I put out the smolder on my shirt, I got led to a section of the store I must have missed before. She showed me how some of these clothes here were worn by all kinds of species with a bit more heat to go around… elementals, dragons… and apparently we also found something that seemed to be quite a fit for me. Some neat shirts with logos of bands and places I never heard of… but seemed to be popular where Willow came from. Turns out these were apparently styles from, what i knew as the “Sonic and Shadow” franchise, which i formerly thought were simply video games… leave it to Hyper City’s connection to basically every kinda dimension to make you realize that… reality is a lot more wobbly than you thought, (and that comes from someone who’s been pulled through eldritch dimensions).  While I was picking out some clothes, with the help of Willow and Samara, having a nice chat with them about our… quite similar experiences when it came to interactions with other citizens, we were approached by a third person… A man that looked about the age of Willow, his hair was slightly graying, styled in dreadlocks with a few golden ornaments, glasses just like Willow… a large loose overcoat with simple beige pants and a black shirt. Now with all three around me I couldn't help but notice that… the feeling I had when I stepped into this building was largely coming from the presence these three gave off… I meant to mention it in our talk but… well lets just say the man who introduced himself as Dominic, apparently the husband of Willow, seemed to be quiet… intrigued by me… as in… he started to hide his real intend of “interviewing” me, with casual smalltalk and a lot of questions. He was very formal.. like.. uncomfortably so, but that's probably just a me thing since formality to me is just uninteresting behavior… I usually keep stuff close to the chest and speak my mind as thought. Anyway he asked me a bunch of stuff about my transition, how it’s going, what kinda other changes could be expected so that we could look for clothing that has those in mind… I didn't know it was just odd to me so I kept the fact I clocked them as other eldritch beings to myself for now. They were very good at hiding that fact but… I have been around mars and that stupid tentacle bitch enough to be able to kinda.. feel that connection and recognize it, even if it is as well hidden as theirs is.

Why did I hide it? … Well my record with eldritch has been 50/50 right now, and i don’t know if these are like mars who transitioned… or like Nyarlarthotep who were born this way and i didn’t wanna get more eyes like THAT on me… 

I tried to keep my answers as short and truthful as I can, while still just trying to pick out some clothes for myself. They were nice overall but that could be just a charade… maybe… urgh i hate how paranoid i have become… if only i had talked to them more openly… maybe what happened later could have been prevented… maybe they could have helped out now… 

I did end up buying a bunch of clothes to replace those i lost, taking a quick look at the “looking for part timers” poster behind the counter and putting that at the back of my head, and popped a few more tic tacs since damn, all that talking and questioning and finding out made the sugar craving pop up again. I did get a quite confused look from Samara who was packing the clothes when I did that… Asking me if that’s normal… I did raise an eyebrow myself, holding out the now almost empty pack of tic tacs to her and asking if she wanted one… she declined quite profusely and just finished packing the bag and handed it to me… maybe she’s allergic?... Are eldritch allergic to tic tacs? WILL I BE ALLERGIC TO THEM? IS THAT WHY THEY TASTED SO FUNNY?!... It’s kinda embarrassing what mental gymnastics i did there…

I grabbed one of those store cards with me and waved them goodbye, vowing to return for some more clothes once I get more money…. I hope I can still keep that vow…. 

Everything seemed perfect… I got a bunch of new clothes… met some quite nice people… had no ill run in with a pedestrian calling me slurs or a danger… and i even finished my pack of tic tacs… I had put my new clothes into my home, actually put one on ‘cause the one I was wearing had a couple burn holes by now… weird how that happened even though i had made sure to keep myself calm and happy at best… anyway i decided to do one last stroll through hyper city to end the day… best decision I made cause otherwise I’d probably be homeless after this. 

While strolling through the streets I ended up noticing that… my legs felt really bad.. like.. they hurt quite a bit so i decided to find a place to sit down… ended up walking into an old skate park i knew was around the corner.. plenty of benches and space here. I was texting my Therapist about the day, her name is Amber, it’s the one Mars frequently goes to and recommended to me. For someone who works with Erian she’s actually quite nice and really helpful! Though while texting my phone suddenly seemed to overheat… luckily i managed to send her a last message about where i’m headed for the night, just to finish off my report of the task she gave me to get those clothes and get some sense of normalcy. 

That's when things got bad… Not only did my phone overheat.. it started to melt in my hand! that's a baaaaaaad sign of overheating for me.. I quickly dropped it to keep the damage minimal and to the casing alone, can’t afford to burn through another-.. and did a check on my core. It was BLINDINGLY bright after i removed the shirt… how did i not notice that?! How did I not notice how hot I was actually getting!? I looked behind me and noticed the smoking smoldering footprints I left behind me and panicked… I NEVER got THAT hot before. I looked down, noticing not only that I pretty much burned off my pants and boots, which were  sadly not AS fire resistant as my top, but also that… I was literally melting the concrete ground beneath me. This is bad… really bad. I did here the clattering of my tic tac pac which must have just fallen through the remains of my pocket, when I noticed something that shook me to the core. In front of my very eyes, that tic tac bottle seemed to shift- INTO THE BOTTLE THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO HOLD MY HRT MEDS!

How was this- why !? Empty!? when- the tic tacs- oh no… no no no no no NO NO NO!!!!

With that realization… came the pain… like my body was finally allowed to register things again. At a very bad time. The heat was disastrously painful… I felt like I passed out and got jolted up by it alone multiple times before I even hit the floor… hit the floor? When was I even falling… Why couldn’t I feel my feet anymore?!

That question got answered the second I looked down… My feet had literally broken off by the ankles, as I was looking at the crumbling bits of paw formed ashes that used to be MY paws. I clutched my chest as I heard the park's sprinkler system spring to life, though the water even didn’t make it halfway to my body to give me that sweet release of cold I so desperately craved by this point. The park quickly filled up with a thick fog of smoke and steam… and I could feel myself slowly sinking into the ever melting ground beneath me.

By then I also started to lose the feeling in my hands that were clutching my chest… I looked at the slowly graying claws and fingers that broke off of my body, like the ashes of a cigarette that could no longer hold on to the rest of it. I started vomiting up thick globs of red and gold glowing liquids, whose consistency reminded me of magma… were those my organs that melted?!  Probably…

I couldn’t help but be reminded of that time I met Nyarlathotep… she warned me… how I would end up burning up into a pile of ashes… I thought she was just trying to scare me… I never thought she was actually right… 

Tears of the same kinda hot liquid started streaming down my face.. by now the only thing i could feel was heat… and pain… and fear. I didn’t want to die… I DON’T want to die… 

In my head I kept crying out for help… the only thing that kept me from crying out in my voice was that my lower jaw had already turned to ashes itself. Only pathetic noises and yelps of pain came out of that fiery half maw of mine. As my body seemed to be covered by darkness.. and brimstone. 

Something I hadn't noticed and only started to realize later, was that the smoke and steam covered up the strange material that formed out of the molten concrete and whatever my body was leaking at the time… until it formed a hard shell that must look like a black and red glowing blister on the ground.  Despite not having a heart anymore… at least none that i could feel… I could still hear a beat…  The shell itself seems to beat LIKE a heart… with every single one the glow intensifies for a second.. before dying down… The beating of this shell… this Chrysalis… ended up calming me down enough to realize that… the pain was… gone?... I… was gone… but yet I was still here… molten and broken down into what I believe to be a shining sphere of heat… is this what it thought to be my flame organ?.. 

Whatever it is.. it seemed to contain everything of me… my entire being was now condensed to this single, white and gold glowing orb… 

I don’t know what is going on… and I am beginning to more and more lose my grip on reality itself… I keep rerunning these memories in my… i wanna say head but… urgh i don't know!!

I can hear the noise of sirens outside… some people shouting orders… but they are too muffled to make out what they are saying..  I feel myself slipping away again… when will I wake up again?... Will I be able to recount what happened today?... Is it even still today?...

Will “I” even be the one waking up again? … Why can’t I help but imagine this damn grin of Nyarlathotep… telling me in her obnoxious voice how she was right…?

Why is it that I somehow WANT to see her again…? 

Damn… here comes the darkness again-... so… calming… so…

...

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

Edit: FORGOT TO MENTION!! Samara, Willow and Dominic, as well as the Heart Mender Boutique were created by the wonderful @home-sweet-hive and star in his ??? HRT series!! Go check it out!!

Also the Nyarlathotep mentioned in this story appears in @dawning-mars Eldritch HRT! Definitely check it out, it's amazing!! It even has me in it now X3 - Nia

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[paddockbunny]

“Cherry flavour?”

Summary : Just a quick little bit of Fluff for Mercedes Mick (he’s got a seat and is a Merc driver in this one, just go with it 💋) Rating : 16 Pairing : Mick Schumacher x Reader Word Count : 954 - blurb/oneshot Trigger Warnings : None - pure fluff! Authors Note : Mick is a full Merc driver in this 🥰

The heat was killing you. You liked the sun and lived for the warm sunny days in Monaco that would result in your skin getting a beautiful sun kissed glow but here, in Mexico, the heat from the sun was unrelenting and it was killing you. So when Gina came walking back to the Mercedes hospitality area - where you were sitting in the shade with Corinna fanning yourself with your VIP pass - carrying two large cups with straws sticking out you were instantly curious.

“Cherry or Strawberry?” She asked as soon as she approached and you waited till she placed the cups down on the table before you got you to see what she was referring too.

Slushies.

The beautifully shaved, crushed ice was a very welcome addition to the now air temperature water sitting before you in a plastic bottle. “Cherry please. You’re incredible!” You smiled broadly. “Where did you get these?” “A girl has her secrets” Gina laughed while touching the side of her nose. You had seen a few of the dark green shirts of the Aston Martin staff walking around with the same style of cups and wondered how in the hell Gina managed to talk her way inside of AM hospitality to nab two of the frozen drinks without getting caught. But you turned your attention quickly to the slurpee melting quickly in the hot humid Mexican air. You picked up the cup and sucked the cherry flavoured cooling drink up through the straw.

Heaven.

Corinna laughed at how you and Gina looked like little kids and said it reminded her of when they went on vacations when Gina and Mick were little. She shared that Mick always got a blue raspberry one and his dad would joke that his tongue would fall off as it went through spectrums of blue after being dyed by the food colouring. And as you laughed about gullible little Mick believing him he came popping up behind you all as if out of nowhere. His race suit hung low around his waist, his black fireproof stuck tight to his skin and he had a white little towel around his neck to mop up any sweat from being so damn hot. You couldn’t help but eye him up and down and maybe it was just because of you feeling all hot from heat but you wanted to jump him right then and there because how fucking good he looked. He asked something which you missed because you were enjoying the view too much - and drowning yourself in cherry flavoured slush - and only snapped back when he looked down at you directly.

Fuck, you were so God damn lucky.

And as someone shouted on him you all realised he couldn’t stay for long. He only came over for a five minute break. Get out of the glaring sun and catch up with his family for a few moments of normality. He had to go rush into a meeting to discuss the feedback from FP3 before Quali later on to try get as far up the grid as possible. They were predicting a P5 or P6 from him based on his practice times which was roughly where he spent most of the season qualifying. Mick tried everything to improve and try get on pole all year but between the Ferarri’s and the Red Bull’s, Mercedes were quite a bit slower and the work had to be done in the race not before it. He glanced over his shoulder toward a few of the Merc people gathered a few meters away and Corinna gently told him he better go. She was so supportive and you knew how much Mick loved having her here at race weekends.

And then you looked up at him again and you saw a familiar cheeky glint in his eye. You knew it too well and you had no time to prepare or react when Mick suddenly ducked down and placed a very strong, firm kiss against your lips. He had to have picked up on how you were staring at him or maybe he saw the up and down eyeing up you had done when he first came over. Whichever it was, you didn’t care and kissed him back. It was only when Gina made a jokingly fake sick sound that he tore his mouth from yours.

“Cherry flavour?” He asked and for a moment you were totally lost at what he meant until across his lips a devilish little smirk appeared. And then, in a blink and you’ll miss it pace, Mick was off. He had jumped down the steps of the hospitality area you and his family were sitting in and it didn’t dawn on you what he had done until he turned around cockily to look at you. In his hand was the cup you had just had in yours and suddenly it twigged on you that he had swiped your frozen drink from your grasp as he had been kissing you and was now gulping it down through the straw. Kissing you was a mere distraction technique and it worked.

“Mick!” You yelled after him and just as he was getting further and further away you could see him chuckling. He had been so quick you didn’t have time to react and you were so close to pouting like a toddler at the loss of your cooling drink.

“Cherry is his second favourite flavour.” Corinna burst out laughing and you rolled your eyes. “He’s a such a child.” You added and finally did jokingly pout at his behaviour - even though you could think of plenty of ways to punish him later, when you were both alone, in bed.

[rosegasly]

wish on elevens. | pg10

⇢ summary: "Sure mon amour. Podium's a good look on you anyway," you quip, scrunching your nose and smiling in an attempt to ignore the way your heart stops and beats again, racing twice as quick and strong. ⇢ genre: fluff ⇢ pairing: pierre gasly x reader ⇢ a/n: celebratory post dutch gp podium fic coz how can i call myself a g10 girlie if i dont write today. stoked.

He's dripping, sweat and champagne coalescing into sticky sweet droplets that bloom on your tongue when you kiss him, hands against scruffy cheeks. "You did it amour! P3!!" 

The dark of his alpine hat sits low over brilliant blue eyes that gaze back at you, glistening with joy so infectious you wonder how everyone around you isn't utterly in love with Pierre Gasly too. 

"Chérie, we did it." He says and you shake your head fondly, eyes still locked with his as affection bubbles and spills over somewhere behind your ribs, heart jutting out with the love you have for this man and you are crying. Vision blurring as you throw your arms around him again, uncaring of how the champagne and sweat stain your front as you sob into his neck. 

"I am so so proud baby. you deserve this! you were so good, so brilliant-" it's hard to speak around the growing knot in your throat but you push through, "I love you so much! You drove incredibly. I was screaming by the end," you laugh as you squeeze him tighter, pull him closer, "My voice is shot. What a fucking day."

Strong arms wrap around your waist, broad shoulders hunching to nestle you against the hollow of his clavicle and you scratch your skin, cheeks pressing softly against his fireproofs as you laugh again, unadulterated delight spilling out of your pores and you don't even want to think how cheesy you both look. Swaying, giggling and wet in his side of the Alpine garage as you celebrate his podium. 

"I am so glad you made it today chérie," Pierre pulls back, catching your eyes again as he continues in a voice so soft one would be hard-pressed to say it was him screaming in the team radio less than thirty minutes ago, voice shrill and so far from his usual gravelly baritone. "You are my lucky charm. Je t'aime babygirl. Let's repeat today again, a hundred more times." He says, words sincere and accent thick as ringed fingers caress your cheek, idly wiping the stray tear and you tug him closer by the collar of his fireproof.

"Sure mon amour. Podium's a good look on you anyway," you quip, scrunching your nose and smiling in an attempt to ignore the way your heart stops and beats again, racing twice as quick and strong. 

The admission, subtle as it may be, isn't lost on you. You've known Pierre long enough now to realise how carefully he words his responses, never unwittingly promising more than he is willing to give and while with someone else you would chop the words to post podium adrenaline, with Pierre they ring true. 

Time suspends for a beat, you don't make any proclamations, don't directly promise anything back but the way you carefully caress his cheeks, the way Pierre lets his inhibitions go, surrendering and nuzzling your palm, the blue swimming in his gaze still holding yours, for once uncaring of the flashing cameras not ten feet away as he melts into your arms, boneless when you pull him in an embrace again–it's enough. 

Neither of you says more, but then you don't have to. Not when you already know you'll come back, time and again, fly to any corner of the world without a second's hesitation to have his back. Cheer him on from the sidelines as many times as he needs, and all the times he doesn't, but you would still be there anyway.

The words form on your tongue, but they don't come out, bitten back and cluttering behind your teeth as you try to shield your heart–to no avail. 

They don't have to escape to be heard, not when they ring so loud and evident between your breaths. 

Pierre Gasly owns your heart and for however long he wants you back, you'll let him keep it. 

[majorproblems77]

Sacred realm competition entry!

Hello!

This is my participation in the @zelda-the-sacred-realm's writing and art competition, for the theme Adventure. I love this comic so much and I love the characters. I've tried my best to characterise them based on the information we have.

We are sending our friend Link on an adventure today, and I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it. (To be honest, i really enjoyed making this and ill probably continue it in the future.)

And a thank you to the creator, for giving us the opportunity to create stuff like this. This was so much fun, and I'm looking forward to seeing what everyone else has come up with as well.

It will be Cross-posted to my A03 account (And my writing account)- As soon as I figure out how to tag it so it's findable

For now, I introduce

You're a hero too, a sacred realm short story

- 1705 words

“It’ll be an adventure!”

He was already on enough of an adventure thank you very much. According to Wind, they had come across a Temple entrance of some kind, and The young spirit seemed eager to explore its depths

“Uhh Sky?” Link asked softly. Standing behind the spirit as the sky hero walked ahead of the group.

“Look over there. You see that.” Wind bounced on the balls of his feet and pointed to his right towards a large-looking tunnel. Engravings curved around the wall.  “Theres a tunnel here. And where you find engravings like this. There's often a temple not far behind. With puzzles!”

“A puzzle?” Link asked. “Like from the stories?”

“Yeah!” Wind smiled, his eyes searching the wall. “Guaranteed there’s a puzzle in there.”

“Gods and spirits often leave things for heroes to find later. I got these from a temple!” Sky turned his head to show his earrings. The light of the hero's spirit shone across them as Link looked closer at them. “Originally these were fireproof earrings for my adventures through a volcano.”

“You think I’ll get anything like that?” Link looked back to the forest behind them as they entered the tunnel.

“Well, you are a hero.” Sky smiled. Placing a hand to Link’s back. Turning his head to look at him. “So I would think so!”

Link smiled softly, as Wind ran ahead. Ushering him forward. “Come on!”

Wind lead the way into the tunnel as the group entered the darkness. “Is it very long? Do I need a torch?” The realm’s hero asked, wringing his hands nervously as he continued to follow the group.

The tunnel opened out to large pit in the middle of the room. Decorated in red and blue torches the top of the walls had runes across it. Sunlight filtered through the ceiling, as the three separated. Time walked to one of the walls, investigating it. While, Link walked to the large pit which sat central in the room.

“Uhh… What do I do?” Link turned back to Sky, who had paused between the two. Looking to the ceiling above the hole, then down at it. He moved across the room to stand besides Link. Sky looked around the room. Eyes pausing on time for a moment. A hand raised to his chin.  “Well. If I had to guess…”

“Hang on.” Sky paused. Looking to Time who had a hand raised. Then to Link. “I think he should figure it out.”

“Why?” Wind raised an eyebrow. Crossing his arms. “We are here for a reason. Surely we should be helping him when we can.”

“And if there's another spirit barrier?” Time said, stopping the hero of the wind’s in his tracks. He pointed a finger towards the hero of the Sky. “You were out of action for a week by hopping into the fight.”

“Hoping into the fight was the right thing to do.” Sky shot back quickly. His voice not accusatory for the moment, but a hint of annoyance on the tip of his tongue.

“I had it handled.”

“Did you?” A pause. “Or did that thing inside the medallion have to save you.” Sky pointed to the item on Link’s chest. Eyes fixed on Time.

Link’s eyes widened at that. The spirit, which he’d nicknamed amulet, was still a mystery to him. Every time it entered the fray he felt helpless. Like a prisoner in his own body. He took a step back and lowered his head. Biting his lower lip as he looked down at the item in question. Placing a hand under it so he could look at it again. The lights of the hero’s spirits shining bright across the surface. Twilight, Wild and Worlds light’s shining dimly.

 The medallion was a warning and a burden, its golden surface a cruel reminder that he still had a lot to learn.

“uhh, guys.” Wind walked over to Link while the others locked eyes with each other. The tension cut with a knife. “Maybe you should wait…”

“Link.” Sky’s voice was immediately laced with guilt as he heard the spirit move around him. His eyes searched the walls below him and they met a small platform. About five feet below him. An eyebrow raised as he turned. “I shouldn’t have…”

“Now look what you’ve done.” Time stood with his arms crossed.

“I…. I didn’t.” Sky stuttered. Looking over to the man in question. Who was leaning over the edge of the platform. Having spotted the same one he had. “Link Wait!”

Link wasn’t paying attention to the spirit beside him. His eyes fixed on a platform below him as he moved around the pit slightly. Placing a foot right on the edge of the pit he took a breath.

Here goes nothing….

Link jumped onto the platform below him, and felt the feeling of shifting through a barrier. Another spirit barrier. The others wouldn’t be coming with him.

“Link!”  Sky’s voice above him he didn’t look up. “Link! Wait!” Slowly walking over to the edge of the ledge he was on allowed him to. He could do this. He could do this. He could…

Oh…. There was no platform there. There was no platform there! Nonnonononono.

He looked upward. Trying to see if he could jump back out. Taking a step back, The feeling of a plate pushing down startled him. He looked to his foot and spotted a pressure plate.

Oh no…

 The walls began to rumble and shake. The platform began moving. The sound of stone grinding as the platform began to retract into the wall from which it came.

“Oh nononono,” he slid backwards and scrambled to the wall. “Nononono, please stop please stop please stop.”

“Link! Link! To your Right!” Wind’s voice sounded over the noise. He looked up rapidly to see the hero of Sky pointing, “Down! And to your right!”

He looked right and saw another platform springing from the wall. A little lower. Panic rising he looked up to see Sky and Wind pointing to it. “That one! THAT ONE!” The spirits voice sounded worried. He appeared to be leaning down but recoiled as blue flames licked at his fingers.

He nodded, standing up on shaky feet he jumped down another five feet.

Another plate. Another shifting platform. As he jumped lower and lower.

The further we went the braver he became.

It was just jumping down a few stairs he’s fine. Well more than a few, but as sky said. He was a hero, right? He should be able to do this in his sleep.

Finally, he made it to the floor. Looking up from his spot he could still see the yellow glow of Sky and Time above him.

“Link! Are you okay?!” The sky hero’s voice echoed down the tunnel as the last of the platforms disappeared into the wall.

“Yes!” Hands to his knees he took a few deep breaths before straightening up. Looking around the walls were a deep grey, illuminated by the faint glow of lanterns dotted across the wall. The ground shifted around his feet, the sand falling away as he made his way around. Placing a hand to the wall he walked the pit’s perimeter to find a switch. But found nothing.

“There’s nothing down here!” He shouted up towards Sky who disappeared past the lip before returning. “I can't find a way up!” Looking across the walls they were decorated with random poles and circular patterns. He felt fear grip him.

Trapped. He was trapped.

“We can't get down to you from here!” Wind’s voice shouted down. “Think you can disable the spirit barrier somehow?!”

“I don’t think so!” He tried to keep his voice steady. Don’t want to panic Sky. “I’ll keep looking.”

“What do you see?!” Time also leaned his head over the pit, his face as stoic as ever.

“Just a bunch of Sand…” He looked to the floor and crouched. Brushing at the floor. More sand met him. The way it shifted made him pause. It didn’t seem all that deep. And there was an indentation buffed in the ground.

A door? A way out? Deeper into the ground. Great.

He began to dig around the edges of the square indented in the floor. If he just kept digging. And digging. And digging. Hoping He might find a way out of this mess.

His fingers brushed a latch as his digging became more frantic.

He revealed a door, and his eyes widened. “Guys! Guys, I found a door!”

His fingers latched the handle and pulled, opening a pit of darkness. The sound of sand falling into it filled his ears as the ground around him shifted. Looking into the darkness he could just about make out the floor below him. He’d have to jump into the pit, which would close the hatch…

A One-way drop.

“Sky! You guys better get back in the medallion!”

“What did you find?!” The Skyloftians's voice sounded. The outline of shining light filtered down towards him. A hand raised to his forehead as he squinted his eyes. “Are you okay?!”

“There’s a hatch in the floor!” Looking more closely he spotted carvings dotted across the wall.  “I think. I think Wind was right! I think it’s a temple!”

“Well, what are we waiting for?! Let's go!” Wind’s voice echoed around him as swirling wind shifted around him and light burst back into the medallion. His spirit shone as bright as ever along side the others.

The swirling sounds of fire and lightning echoing through the air rang in his ears as the spirits flew down the tunnel and nestled inside the medallion.

He wouldn’t be alone, he just had to remember that.

The door above him loomed red and blue dancing across the wall. He raised a hand to the surface and pushed. The door creaking forward darkness met him as he reached to his right. Looking between a red torch and a blue torch before grabbing the red torch, and holding it close to his chest as he took a deep breath. Walking into the darkness. One thought echoed through his mind.

Time for an adventure.

[lxndonorris]

still got it - Mick Schumacher

Y/N x Mick Schumacher Theme: Smutish (teasing, touching) attending Mick's tire testing in Barcelona x word count: 2120+

When Mick learned that he wasn't going to have a seat for the upcoming season, the two of you were more than just disappointed. Haas in general wasn't the best fit for Mick, with a boss with a temper and the arguably worst car at the time, it was very hard for him to show his true potential. He was frustrated and tried his best to succeed, but it just wasn't meant to be. However, once he got the call from Mercedes, everything changed. Even though he won't have an active seat, staying in F1 even as a reserve driver, means the world to both of you. Now, it's time for Mick to hit the track again, because they allow him to do the tire tests in Barcelona. Of course, he asked you to join him in the paddock, and there was no way that you'd decline his request.

For over a week now, he was excited, a little nervous, and overall happy to finally fly around a circuit once more, even if it was just for tire testing. When it was time to leave for the day, Mick basically dragged you towards his bike. You held on tight, your hands hugging him tightly from behind while he got you to the track right on time. The two of you met up with a few team members, and they informed you, that all is prepared. Now, Mick just needs to suit up and they're set to go.

You're the first to enter the motorhome, with Mick staying a few steps behind. He's still chatting with his mechanics, while you walk through the trailer. Looking around, you instantly remember all the other times you joined him on race weekends, however, it's different this time. They really spared no expenses when preparing this for Mick's tire testing. It looks so comfy, beautifully decorated, and overall perfect. Then, you spot the most important thing, his racing suit. Folded in a neat pile, his black racing suit and fireproofs, lie on a shelf inside the wooden cupboard. You make your way toward them and feel the fabric between your fingers. "Feels good, doesn't it," Mick says, entering the room and walking toward you, a huge smile spreading across his entire face.

"It does." You smile as well and watch him approach you. He reaches for your waist, pulling you closer toward him, while both of you admire his new suit. Then, he turns his face back to yours and tilts his head. "Shall we begin?" He smirks, and you mirror his movements. "Ready when you are." You lick your lips quickly and he giggles. Turning around, you spot a comfy chair waiting for you to sit down, the perfect view for now. Excited, you watch Mick undressing. After he took his shoes off, the first to go is his pair of tight skinny jeans. They look so good on him, flattering his thighs perfectly, and once they're gone, his dark blue boxers are exposed.

You cannot help yourself but admire his package, with him filling those undies well. Of course, he notices you staring. "My eyes are up here." He pouts teasingly, drawing your attention back to his gorgeous eyes. "Don't blame me." You mouth silently, shaking your head, causing him to smirk. He licks his lower lip before he pulls at his black Mercedes shirt. A beautiful, tight shirt, again, made to flatter him. You are used to seeing him wear any team gear, as it's part of his job, and he loves to show off, knowing very well that those shirts are an absolute tease. Without much of a struggle, he takes it off, smirking at you again. Most of the time you forget how well-formed his body is, even through those tight shirts, making his pecs look big enough, but once you see his bare chest, you can't help but look at him, his body again, admiring his physique.

Confidently, he slowly walks up to you, running a hand through his nicely done hair, across his firm chest and even further down to his crotch, brushing over his length. "Like what you see?" He bites his lower lip and reaches for your hand. "Oh, yeah." You breathe deeply and take his invitation. Easily, he pulls you out of the chair and right into his arms. "Easy." You giggle, steadying yourself against his bare chest. "I'm just so excited." He pouts again, before leaning in to kiss you lovingly. "Me too." You say once you separate from him. "Then, what are we waiting for?" Stroking his firm chest, you motion towards his suit. With every move of your fingers, his skin is flushed with color, when he blushes.

"Are you ready?" He raises his eyebrows. "Born ready." You steal one more kiss before he separates himself from you, leaving you to sit down again. Enjoying the view of his ass as he strolls towards the cupboard, you take out your phone to take a few pictures of him getting dressed. Mick picks up the bottoms of the black fireproofs, turns around smiles. "Never had black ones before." His gaze shifts between you and the clothes when a shy smile forms on his soft lips. "They do look good though." You say comfortingly, and he nods. Without further ado, he slides into them, one leg at a time, and they fit perfectly like they were hand-made for him, and just him.

Mick looks down at himself and moves from side to side to have a good look at his lower half. "How does it fit?" You say, and he looks up at you, smirking. "Tight, but in a good way." He bites his lip, knowing very well that not only his excitement is growing bigger and bigger. "Mind if I?" You raise your phone, and he tilts his head again. "Fire away?" He chuckles shortly, and you start to take a few pictures. Mick looks so fine, and he makes sure to pose for this photoshoot, showing off. Both of you giggle while he picks up the top half, and after exchanging teasing looks, he puts it on. You watch his skin vanish behind the black, thin fabric, as he slides into it, again, one arm at a time, before his head pops out of it, with a soft groan.

"Fuck." He breathes deeply, pulling down his top, flattening it with both of his hands. Subconsciously, he keeps stroking his own chest, and his nipples with one hand, while he walks over toward a mirror. "I do look so good." He lets out a soft groan before he turns back around to face you. Nodding contently, you motion for him to come closer again, and he puts on a show. Mick knows how good he looks right now, and he is not afraid to show off. This time, he doesn't need to pull you out of the chair, you get up, embracing his hands on your waist. "You're my beautiful man." You say, again steadying yourself against his chest, but this time, you enjoy the feeling of fabric underneath your fingertips as you run them across his chest, enjoying the feeling of his whole body slowly but steadily tensing more and more.

"Thank you." He blushes again before his attention is drawn to your fingers drawing circles across his pecs. To tease him a little more, your other hand finds its way to his chest, and you feel him, his tits firmly. Mick starts to purr happily, and he watches you stroke him again and again, this time, down his upper body, to his firm abs, his waist, and even further down to his crotch. Lifting your chin slightly, your hands brush over the tent forming inside his underwear, and he lets out a low moan. Mick raises his head now too, and your eyes meet again. "Naughty." He hisses, with his beautiful eyes shining brightly, the fire of excitement burning behind them. "I know you like that." You hiss back at him, as he starts to grind on your hand, narrowing his eyes.

"I think your way too overdressed." He looks down at your outfit, as he starts to tug at your shirt. Giggling, you place a hand on his chin, making him look into your eyes again. "I think we have to do that later." You look at his suit still lying on the shelf, and he follows your gaze. "Fuck, you're right." He looks back at you, leaning in for a loving, passionate kiss. Then, Mick separates himself again and walks towards the cupboard. "Wait, photos!" You say quickly, and he turns around again, striking a pose instantly. With his hands steadied at his hips, he goes through a different set of poses, the ones the drivers would have to do for F1 marketing material.

Mick looks so good in those tight fireproofs, his well-formed body testing the limits of the fabric teasingly. His whole body is growing in anticipation of the upcoming day, and so does yours. Even though you've seen him dress up more than a dozen times, this feels different, a new chapter of a promising journey. Lost in your thoughts, you nearly missed him putting his black racing suit on, when he does a little jump, so his legs slip inside the lower half. You've really missed the sight of him wearing those suits, and this makes you smile even brighter.

Once he lifts his head to look at you, you know he feels the same. His smile covers his whole face, his eyes shine brightly, and the suit fits perfectly as well. "I love that feeling." He says, his voice shaking slightly, as he looks down at himself again, running his hands across his chest, brushing over his crotch to his thighs and back to his waist. Now you make your way toward him, and he embraces your hands on his body now. "Damn, babé." You say, feeling his chest again. This time, it's even harder than before, as he starts to flex. "My beautiful, beautiful man." You say, running a hand across his chest, to his shoulder, and along his arm. Mick, teasingly, flexes his biceps, his muscles bulging against the thin fireproofs.

"So good." He groans again, and you look at him, smirking. "That good, huh?" Your hands encompass his entire upper body, much to his satisfaction. Mick loves being touched by you this way, and his whole body starts vibrating once he starts to hum happily. Leaning in again, you place a soft kiss right on his lips, while you feel his hands now all over your body, your neck, your chest, and waist. You easily pick up his rhythm, and the two of you move in unison, both of you, purring. Just then, a knock on the door snaps you out of this moment. "Eh, come in," Mick says quickly, trying to stop his face from blushing heavily.

A young woman enters the room and spots the two of you standing right next to each other. "You're already dressed, very good." She smiles, motioning to his suit. "Of course," Mick says nervously, and you exchange knowing looks. "You're down in 10, okay?" She says contently before she walks towards the door again. "We will be there." Mick smiles back at her and you watch her leave. For a moment, you stand there, before you share a quick laugh. "Shall we go then?" Mick turns to you, smiling. "Sounds good." You look at the phone in your hands. "Wait, a few more pics?" Pouting pleadingly, you try your best to persuade him, but that isn't even necessary.

Mick nods, and you take a few more pictures. He moves his body, to show off his butt, his firm chest, his big arms, and thighs. As you take a dozen pictures, he puts the upper half of the suit on as well. He closes the zipper, buttons up the collar, and reaches for your hand. One last time you place a hand on his chest, touching him lovingly. "I really missed this." Mick frowns, looking down at himself again, reminiscing of his time on the active grid. "You'll come back soon. I'm sure." You say comfortingly, rubbing his back. Nodding, he looks at you again, before kissing you.

Together, you walk towards his garage, where his Mercedes is already waiting for him. He walks along the car, running a finger along the outlines of the 47 on the front. You watch him getting ready and inside the car, being proud of him. It will indeed be tough to get back into F1, but as other people have done it before, nothing is impossible, for someone with his talent.

[inblurtub]

my nominations

for race line awards !

took me some good times to dive back into my ao3 history:) at this point i guess this couldn't be regarded as "lines" anymore, but anyways-- i've enjoyed myself while doing this:) thank you sooo much for bringing up this awards

love notes in the kitchen (say it all) - @/formulaes (mark/sebastian) 

Mark bent down to pick up the ring. What the fuck?, he thought, what the actual entire fuck? He turned the ring over in his hands, noting a small engraving on the inside of the ring: Love You Forever. Mark might actually be going into shock. No fucking way had Sebastian just proposed to him through the romantic medium of eating all his chocolate (again) and leaving an engagement ring as an IOU.

postcards from places that miss you - @/streetlightsky (sebastian/charles)

My poor English cannot describe how much I adore the title like it expressed the context and Charles' feelings sooo well. I felt the peacefulness and caught on an sensational hunch throughout my reading. Very recommend for when you wanna escape tough life out there.

love notes in the kitchen (say it all) - @/formulaes (mark/sebastian) 

He doesn’t say Multi 2-1, but they both know it’s what he means. Once upon a time a statement like that would have made Mark seethe with rage, but now it just makes him laugh and pounce at Seb, grabbing him in a bear hug and lifting him off the ground with a playful growl. “Ah! Mark!” Seb shrieks, “Mark! No, put me down! I’m innocent!” He shakes Seb around playfully, ignoring the clang of the tin as it hits the ground and peppering his face with kisses, “Stop.” kiss “Eating.” kiss “My.” kiss “Chocolate.” kiss.   Seb is giggling like a maniac, pretending to try and escape from Mark’s embrace as his feet finally touch back down to earth.

Cut open your Heart - @/Lovely_Lotus (carlos/oscar)

His eyes follow Oscar as he bends down to pick something up, his back muscles flexing and accentuating where Carlos left his marks behind.  But Carlos is unable to appreciate it. He is transfixed by the thing Oscar picks up. It's Carlos’ clothes. The 55 displayed proudly on the fireproofs. But there's something wrong with them. Only when Oscar puts them on does he notice that they are red. Weren’t they blue before? Oscar doesn’t seem to notice, nor does he seem to care. He takes one last look at him that Carlos can’t decipher. Unlocks the door and walks out, leaving Carlos behind to bleed out.

To Lando… - @/Lottie1824 (lando/oscar)

Not long until the end of the season now. I think I can do this and I can feel you with me every step of the way.  Love you forever and always Oscar.

5 times lando came into oscar’s room and told him he was bad at hugging plus one time oscar went into lando’s room and gave him the best hug of his life (by fall out boy) - anonymous user (lando/oscar)

“I don’t want to skip the sprint though,” Lando said. “I don’t want to let people down.”  “Taking care of yourself is not letting people down,” Oscar said.  “Which is why you're here to help me,” Lando said, attempting to smile.  “I’ll help you as best as I can, but I’m not a professional so I might make it worse.”  “That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” Lando said, his eyes dark and serious. “I trust you, Oscar.”

cherry - @/helioslover (max/charles)

Max hates planes. Max also hates being too shy to ask the stewardess for a night mask so that he could sleep through the flight. Max hates knowing who’ll be picking him up at the airport. Max also hates the way he is happy to see a familiar face in a country where he doesn’t know anyone, even if it is this familiar face. But Max mostly hates the way he is eager to see Charles.

amaranthine - @/kjstark (carlos/charles)

Fate smiles at them again. And when the sun hits Carlos on the face during the anthems, his eyes don’t burn. You see: his teammate is Charles Leclerc, he’s used to the blinding light. 

he just turned in like i didn’t exist - @/linearity (carlos/oscar)

You see, Oscar doesn’t have a problem with his soulmate. It’s his soulmate who has the fucking problem.