#don hamilton's getting it

[rakiloveslewis]

this ferrari shit gets serious

[xoxo-devdas]

Thinking about Ledja again

[notmoreflippingelves]

After reminding myself yet again, that contrary to my wishes, Cosmo Brown/Lina Lamont ( both from Singin' in the Rain) does not in fact exist., my brain has frantically and bizarrely decided that it needs to find a way to make Perry Mason/Lina Lamont work.

[formulawolff]

sunbathing - t.w.

pairing: reader x dbf!toto wolff

word count: 1.3k

warnings: age gap, highly inappropriate flirting and banter, fingering (f! receiving), alcohol use, some light smut for this fine sunday evening, fyi, the reader is in her early/mid 20s in this!,

a/n: the premise of this one came to me as a request! i just want to clarify that this is a slight au, as toto is not a married man in this! i hope y’all enjoy! <3 (also that gif?? omf. i need him.)

bundles of light cast a shine on the waves, the surrounding air tinged with the salty scent of the sea. the only color in your field of vision is blue, the hues ranging from a vivid cerulean to a rich sapphire. above, seagulls glide, dotting the skyline with tiny white specks.

you bask in the warmth of the sun, your heated skin glowing from your tanning oil. situated on the sun deck, you were in the perfect spot to catch some rays, reapplying tanning oil routinely throughout the afternoon.

"everything going okay up there honey?"

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

the voice was none other than your father's.

your father happened to be peter bonnington, one of the top engineers for the mercedes-amg petronas formula one team. he just so happened to be close to lewis hamilton, eight time world champion.

yet, to your disappointment, lewis was not present today. so much for shooting your shot with the devilishly handsome driver.

when you were offered the chance to spend the day on toto wolff's yacht with your family, how could you have refused?

who else gets to spend the afternoon sunbathing on desk of a yacht as it floats along the mediterranean sea?

springing to your feet, you lean over the rail, picking out your father as he mingles with the group, "i may come down and get some water soon!"

"sounds good love!" your father responds, a wide grin plastered across his face. stifling a giggle, you notice the crimson hue tinging his cheeks, flourishing into his neck.

oh god, he was drunk.

well, you all were. at least, those old enough to drink.

for the start of the summer break in the season, mr. wolff had suggested the mercedes families gather together for a day of relaxation and celebration. to your disappointment, there were not a lot of suitors present.

of course, there were quite a few children, some teenagers.

you had met with a few girls around your age, but they were still significantly younger, approximately three or fours your junior. so, to escape from the small talk and chitchat, you had waltzed up to the sun deck, settling in one of the chairs.

luckily, you had brought a book with you, so it kept you somewhat busy.

and to your satisfaction, no one bothered you. no one at all.

an afternoon alone on the deck of a yacht, where no one would bother you but to bring you a few drinks and some snacks?

it was perfect. absolutely perfect.

you couldn't have envisioned a more perfect afternoon.

a flurry of voices catches your attention, but you ignore them. it almost sounded as if there was playful argument. of course, recognized your father's voice, as it was the loudest.

your mom was one patient woman, that was for sure.

with the sun beating down, and the buzz of the alcohol, you couldn't help but feel your lashes flutter, drowsiness beginning to take ahold.

"ms. bonnington," a voice startles you, thick with a heavy accent, "i figured i would run some water up for you."

sitting up in your chair, you clutch your chest as you make out who is standing beside you, one bottle of water in each hand.

it was none other than toto wolff.

with his significant stature and broad shoulders, he nearly towers over you, donned in a thin linen button up and khaki shorts.

with his fluffy brunette hair, and sharp, chiseled features framed by thick lashes, there was no denying that the team principal was devastatingly handsome. toned muscles rippled underneath his button-up, the wind catching the fabric every so often, exposing a trail hair leading up to his navel.

sure, you may have had a teenage crush on one of your father's best friends and coworkers, but surely you outgrew that long ago.

surely.

you felt your heart skip a beat as he eyed you, prompting you to respond.

"oh my god," you nearly stumble over your words, "i am so sorry if i didn't hear you the first time, mr. wolff. i was falling asleep and i-"

"no need for those formalities around here," a soft chuckle rumbles in his throat, "you can call me toto, you know."

"i-i'm sorry," you mumble, accepting the water bottles from his hands, "i've probably been in the sun a little too long. i'm a little scatterbrained right now."

"have you been having fun, at least?" to your surprise, the team principal sits in a chair beside you, "i apologize if you haven't been able to meet some people your age. i thought there would be more girls for you to get along with."

"i've been fine," you shrug, "i'm a big girl, i know how to occupy myself."

as you lay back down in the chair, toto can't help but drink in the sight of you.

fuck, were you absolutely gorgeous.

he relished the way your hair was pulled into a tight bun, emphasizing the bridge of your nose and the fullness of your lashes. your skin glistens under the sun, toto swallowing thickly as his mind wanders.

it was so wrong to look at you this way. absolutely sinful.

yet, he couldn't. he couldn't look away.

"everything okay, toto?" oh god, the way his name sounded so sweet from those plush lips.

"i'm fine," he waves a hand, "i'm just admiring the view. that's all."

you arch a brow, pursing your lips, "the mountains or my ass?"

ever so slightly, you wiggle your wips, cheeks jiggling in response.

"you want me to be honest or do you want me to lie?"

"hmmm," you hum, "i prefer honesty, mr. wolff."

mr. wolff.

in his shorts, he felt his cock throb. instinctively, he shifts in the seat, praying that you wouldn't notice.

however, it's hard to miss.

especially in those khaki shorts.

"see something you like?" you bat your lashes, the corners of your lips curling into a devious grin.

"yes," he leans over, face merely centimeters from yours, "you."

"not like you can do anything about it," you counter, the tough exterior crumbling as you feel a hand gliding along the back of your thigh, squeezing the curve of your ass.

perhaps you did not outgrow that teenage crush all those years ago.

"i can," he smirks ever so slightly, "no one can see up here. if i would have known you were wearing this little number, i would have ran up with that water hours ago."

"what if someone comes up here?"

"they won't," he shakes his head, "they're all eating right now."

"you don't think my father will come looking for me?"

"do you know how intoxicated your father is right now? he wouldn't even make it up the stairs," fingers hook the strap of your bikini bottoms, snapping it against your skin, "so, schatzi, what shall we do?"

"what's on your mind?"

toto cocks his head, the fingers delving between your thighs. nimbly, they lightly trace along your folds, teasing, "oh, if we were completely alone, it would be a far different story. however, i have limited time, and there's a large gathering down below."

"oh fuck," you clamp down on your tongue as a finger circles your clit, juices beginning to trickle down your soft skin.

"you like that?" toto coos, applying more pressure, "you like how wet i make you? you're a good girl, letting me touch you like this."

"toto!" a voice calls from below, "we need your assistance with the radio!"

"jesus fucking christ," the team principal rolls his eyes.

rising to his feet, fingers grasp you chin, tilting your head upwards.

"you should accompany your father to a grand prix sometime. i would love to see your beautiful face one day in the paddock."

"maybe i will," you murmur, flashing toto with a radiant grin, "would you fuck me in the paddock too?"

"oh schatzi, i would do more than fuck you in the paddock. i would make that little pussy of yours weep."

and just like that, you watch as the team principal strolls over to the stairs, shooting you one final wink before disappearing.

biting your lip, you reach for the water, twisting it open.

perhaps you would lean over that rail one more time.

after all, you were starting to get an appetite.

[natailiatulls07]

Can you please do plationic drivers with redbull driver reader and she has all the older drivers and team principals especially Christian wrapped around her finger and can never get in trouble and the younger drivers made it their mission to get them to see she’s not innocent but it always backfires? 🤷‍♀️

OC x Driver!reader Lando Norris x Platonic!reader Oscar Piastri x Platonic!reader Logan Sargeant x Platonic!reader

Summary - The request above x

Warning - Slight smut

A/n - I change it slightly from the request because I feel like I don't write enough Mercedes!reader

Reader drives for Mercedes

-

Mercedes driver, Y/n L/n was loved. She had many people wrapped around her pinky finger; including Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton and her team principal, Toto Wolff. It’s safe to say that she got the best princess treatment imaginable. 

Of course with this treatment, many thought of her as spoiled and also thought she got away with too much both off and on track. Including other drivers such as Oscar Piastri, Logan Sargeant and especially Lando Norris. They were all a bit suspicious of her.

- 

It was media day. Around the sofa in the conference room sat the two McLaren boys, Logan Sargeant and Carlos Sainz. The press conference was scheduled to begin ten minutes ago, yet it was being held off. Why? Because Princess Mercedes hadn’t arrived yet. 

They were all just waiting for her. Unlike the younger drivers on the sofa next to him, Carlos was patient and was desperately trying to reason as to why Y/n was late to the others. Only getting several groans, eyerolls and annoyed frowns from them in return. 

“Mate, just admit it. This is annoying, she’s wasting our time” Lando argued back with his old teammate. 

But was unsuccessful when Carlos just shook his head before defending her again. “She had a hard weekend last week, we have to be patient with her…” Y/n didn’t have a hard weekend, far from it. She got on the podium but not her usual position of first place, only being able to finish the race in third. Logan couldn’t believe how manipulated Carlos was by the Mercedes driver.

Standing from his seat, Oscar pulled the others' attention towards him. All of them looked at him with confused frowns. “I’m going to find her, she has to be around here. Anyone joining me?” And suddenly the confused frowns on Logans and Landos face turned to smirks that matched Oscars.

All three drivers made their way out of the conference room and through the paddock to the Mercedes motorhome. It was a surprise for the Mercedes team and other people in the paddock to see two papaya drivers and one dark blue driver entering the motorhome. 

Some of the team tried to stop the boys from climbing the stairs up to Totos office and the two drivers' rooms but were unable to stop them. So once they got up the stairs, it was Toto's turn to be confused. 

“Uh excuse me, you shouldn’t be up here…” He tried to reason with them but couldn’t. “Seriously you can’t be-” He was cut off by Lando asking a question.

“L/n? Where is her driver room? She’s late for the press conference…” Logan could see how Totos' eyes softened at the mention of one of his drivers before pointing down the small hall to the last door on the right. “Thanks.”

With big strides in his step Lando followed by the other two, made his way to the Y/n’s driver room. Banging his fist on the door loudly, they could hear some intimate noises. The smirk deepened on his face and his eyes widened. 

-

I wasn’t meant to get intimate with my personal trainer. It was just that he was there, we had that tension between us. 

One second, I was finishing up my instagram live. And next…I was half naked and laid under Don on my sofa. Upon hearing movement outside my door, my whines and moans were quietened.

We were having fun, both of us feeling aroused by the whole thing. Yes, it was risky but that added to it. Smirks were painted on our faces and our eyes were on each other. The two of us in our sexual heavens, it was like nothing could break us from that.

Except a loud banging on my door. I sit up. Clutching my chest protectively and eyes widening. I look over to Don. He’s rushing to pull on his boxers and teamwear. 

Luckily I had pulled a nearby blanket over myself and Don had his boxers on when Lando followed by Logan and Oscar had crashed through my door. All three of them with chester cat smirk on their faces. 

Lando’s the first to speak out of everyone. “Ah ‘innocent Mercedes driver caught mid make out with her personal trainer’ Imagine that all over twitter…” He chuckles, slowly stepping backwards ready to parade around the paddock with this new scandalous piece of information.

Leaping forward, holding the blanket around myself, I grasp onto his wrist. My eyes piercing into his own. This would ruin me, I couldn’t have my innocent image tainted. “Please Lando! Don’t do this!” 

He only replies with a shameless giggle, shaking off my hand and rushing out of the room, with the other two hot on his tail, back to Toto. Almost giving myself whiplash, I turn to look over to Don. Our eyes widened and panicky. 

With the identical look in our eyes, we both move quickly to put everything back in order and to make it seem like nothing happened. I’m quick to pull on my teamwear with Don doing the same with his own. A swift look in the mirror helps me smoothen my hair down and wipe away the soft smeared makeup on my face. 

Only managing to breath out a sigh of relief before we hear the sound of rushed footsteps again. Toto and Lewis softly open the door, behind them I can see the others trying to hold in their smirks.

The older two both look confused as me and Don both feign innocence. “Hey guys, is there something wrong? Me and Don were just going over my new diet” Speaking softly, I know that I will win this. I watch as Toto shakes his head and gives me a sweet smile.

“Oh nothing, these three trespassers claimed you guys were uh…” An awkward tension falls in the air. He was too embarrassed to continue the sentence so in order to help him out I just frown my eyebrows and shake my head innocently.

Behind them, I can see the smirks falling from Landos, Logans and Oscars. They know immediately that they’ve lost. It’s hard for me to hold in my laughter but I manage to do it. “All good, we were just finishing actually…” I turn my back to the five and I face Don, now letting a smirk make its way on my face. “Thank you Don, I will be sure to start on that new diet”

Don nods softly, aware that his boss and the other drivers can all see his facial expressions so he leaves it to a small gentle smile. “Of course, well if you excuse me I have to go. Bye Y/n, bye everyone…”

We all watch as he makes his way out of my room and down the hall, followed closely by Toto and Lewis. This gives me a chance to smirk at Lando, Oscar and Logan who all look defeated. “Don’t we have a press conference to get to? Wouldn't want to be late right?” I quip cheekily in a gentle whisper.

-

[saintslewis]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

— drabble.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black fem!reader

summary: the sun shined on the man himself, the one to break records, the one to raise the golden trophy.

warnings: outfit links, cussing, loads of happy tears, suggestive themes.

saint’s team radio 🪩: lewis mf hamilton won his 104th so you knowwwwwww i had to do it. thank you all for 1k and this is just the start of the celebration. congratulations to my husband 🥳 tags down below! (i put nads in the header but shhhhh)

pls like, comment and reblog 💗

Tying your shoelaces, you stood up straight and looked at yourself in the mirror. Fidgeting around with your hair and jewellery, you took several breaths to calm yourself down.

The previous day, Lewis took p2 for qualifying. It’s a well known fact that Silverstone is his playground but anything could happen, this race could go any which way and that’s what scared you the most.

“Should I take a jacket?” You called out to Lewis who was in his closet, most likely picking out his jewellery. “It won’t get too cold but I’ll take one for you.” He spoke, stepping out of the closet in his red ensemble, donning different types of pearls this time around and his black timbs shining.

Your eyes fell to his silhouette in your peripheral view and you turned your head so that your gaze fell upon him. He looked good, his head was high as he strode into the room with a special aura around him. You were always someone who had faith in anything Lewis does on track, no matter the place he finishes the race in, often treating a P7 like a podium.

The past two and a half years have been incredibly tough on Lewis and his mental health, often bringing himself down in the expense of his team’s terrible strategies. Finding it hard to wake up each and every day with a pained smile on his face whenever he walked into any paddock around, he knew he had his family as his biggest cheerleaders. Including you. In your wedding vows, he acknowledged how eternally grateful he was for you even after all the hardships he endured.

“Are we seriously matching?” Your shoulders dropped once you realised you were both wearing red. “I don’t know, I find it cute.” He smiled, giving you a wink and a pat on the ass before walking out of the room. Shaking your head, you fixed up your appearance before reaching for your handbag and you were out of the house in the nick of time. Confirming the logistics of bringing Roscoe along, you hopped in the same SUV and headed off to the track.

SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT

You poorly underestimated the weather that Silverstone would bring but as your husband promised, you had a jacket around your shoulders since the weather was predicted to change during the race. As nervous as you were, you walked and spoke with pure confidence.

Ever since you stepped in the paddock, eyes never strayed from the Hamilton family, more than usual. You had brushed it off and stayed in the garage along with your in-laws, your arms were around Willow’s shoulders as the national anthem concluded and teams were ready to start the race.

“Hopefully we’ll hear that again.” Carmen smiled at you as she took her seat next to you. “I’m hoping for a trophy lift of some sort.” You returned the smile and placed Willow on your lap as you sat down.

Anthony had appeared on screen, standing by Lewis with a straight face while looking at his son fix his balaclava. Anyone with eyes knew the energy that exuded from the 5 second clip, that was Lewis’ dad knowing that his son was not going to finish lower than P4.

You had already given him good luck hugs and kisses but your hands were still shaking because you knew anything could happen. Your heart calmed when your eyes landed on the crowd across the track and how so many of them were there to cheer for Lewis. Seas of the neon yellow your husband donned were strategically positioned in front of his garage and you could feel the support from your seat.

From lap 20, you couldn’t sit still but you tried your best to keep your seat as he stayed within the top 4. The beast that was the w15 was swiftly moving across the track and never slid even when the rain appeared.

George’s car rolled in the car after it was announced that he would retire from the race and your heart slightly sank although it made you slightly happy. The drivers behind Lewis weren’t exactly kind when it came to fighting for the number one spot but they hadn’t raced against Lewis in a long time so they were messing up strategies left right and centre as Lewis drove.

He was reminding people who the fuck he was in real time.

By the time the McLarens and the singular Ferrari had pitted by lap 44, you knew Lewis had this win or at least second place but your husband doesn’t exist to be second. You stood from your seat and joined Anthony at the edge of the garage, your right hand on your chest as your breaths became quicker with your left hand on your hip.

Tears prickled your eyes as Lewis stayed the race leader and as lap 52 began, a tear of joy slid down your face with the pit team already climbing the fence right next to the finish line. The crowd’s cheers overpowered that of Mercedes’ garage as the sun shined on his car, the top of his helmet glowing.

“Oh my God!” You screamed, your hands flailing about as your father in law celebrated next to you and eventually brought you into a bear hug. A wave of different emotions came over you as you tried to catch your breath and you were able to compose yourself as cameras came rushing to the garage.

Walking with your in laws to parc femme, you watched Lewis park the car and wrap the flag around his shoulders, the crowd cheering even louder than before. He embraced his father and you could see his shoulders slightly bouncing and your heart was pounding at the thought of him crying under the helmet. Eventually prepping himself for his post-race interview, he ran over to where you stood with his family.

His eyes caught your tearful ones just after he let go of his mom’s face. The smile that spread across his face was pure joy and his eyes held so much warmth even though he was a few meters from you. He quickly strode to you and you opened your arms to lock around his neck.

“I’m so proud of you, my love. So proud.” Your voice shook as you moved to hold his face. “I love you.” He said, kissing your forehead and blinked away the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “I love you so much, thank you.” He repeated, squeezing your waist a little then let go of you. Before you could respond, Lewis sent back a smile as he had to continue the interviews.

The podium was as magical as the win itself, drops of the champagne landed on you as he sprayed the crowd but you didn’t mind. Anything to see him smile like he had on that podium.

-

“King of Silverstone, huh?” You smiled as you walked out of the bathroom clad in a silk robe with a surprise hidden underneath. Lewis looked up from his phone, his back against the headboard. Just like the morning before, his gaze fell on your body and he could not take his eyes off you.

He quickly glanced at the time, the digital clock reading 4 am and he thought you two would be utterly exhausted after his celebration party but you had proved him wrong. You sashayed onto the bed and sat next to him with your knees underneath you, his head following you throughout.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me.” Lewis spoke, itching to touch you as his eyes wandered to the cleavage your silk robe displayed as you sat close to your husband. “I’m so proud of you, my love. Never giving up and staying strong throughout everything you went through is admirable.” You praised, your hand at the back of his head with your nails lightly scratching his nape. Although you could tell he was not paying attention.

“Lewis?”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear anything I said?” You chuckled and his eyes finally connected with yours. “Uh…yeah.” He tried to give you an answer but his eyes were then glued on your glossy lips.

Smiling at your husband’s actions, you reached for the knot of the robe and slowly began untying it. “Since today is your day,” Sliding off the soft material of your shoulders, you continued. “You can do whatever you want to me.” Your words were soft yet seductive.

“Anything?” Lewis questioned.

“You deserve it, Sir.”

saint’s notes: i did NAWT mean to take this long with this, oh em gee. i hope you guys love it and yes, i’m still living off the high from July 7th 🫶🏽

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @non-stop-imagines @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @cocobutterqwueen @queenshikongo3 @saturnville @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @arshiyuh @motheroffae @henneseyhoe @shhhchriss

[iridescentflamingo]

Silly stupid idea

You've known the turtles for less than a year and they told you that there's a few weeks in spring they have intense training and cannot have guests. You accept this and ask no questions about it. You're hanging out, playing cards after dinner and chilling. The few weeks are coming soon and you're trying to get more hang time with them.

Splinter enters the kitchen. He watches the five of you play for a bit before getting something out of the cupboards and glancing at the calendar. "Ah, is it already March? Have you boys warned Y/N about those upcoming weeks?"

Leonardo looks up and over to his father, "Yes, we told her about the intense spring training we'll be doing. She knows we'll call her when we're finished."

You glance up and see the brothers exchange looks that are subtle, but you've been getting better at picking up their body language.

Splinter makes a huff in his throat. "Ah, spring training, yes." He comes closer to the table, eyeing Leo's cards. "Training your wrists and testing my patience."

Michelangelo spits soda out of his nose and Donatello chokes on the snacks he was eating. You look around confused. Leo scrambles and quickly adds, "Yeah, Sensei, the weapons training can get pretty serious." He stares his father down, his face trying to remain neutral, but you can see his eyes twitch just slightly.

Splinter makes that huff noise again. It almost sounds like a scoff. "Weapons training, yes." He reaches across the table for a handful of pretzels as Mikey wipes the soda off his cards and Raph pats Donnie's chest.

Splinter munches one as the table gets uncomfortably quiet. He looks over to you. "You know, Raphael and Leonardo almost killed each other one year. I will never forget. It was the beginning of the season and we had just watched a movie. What was it? It had that one actress in it."

Mikey, not thinking, answers, "The Terminator."

"Yes, The Terminator. The action movie about robots with that muscle hero man from Europe. I thought it would be safe, you know, but Leonardo and Raphael got into this huge argument about the actress. Oh, her name was Hampton, something Hampton."

"Linda Hamilton." Mikey corrects. Raph reaches over and socks him in the arm. "Hey!"

"Yes! Linda Hamilton. They got in this huge fight about her and they started to yell and then it turned into a wrestling match and then they started to bellow at each other. Do you remember that, boys?" Splinter chuckled.

Leo and Raph looked mortified, but Mikey was laughing. "Yeah, Don and I had to pry them apart, there was blood everywhere."

"We were fifteen," Leo said through practically gritted teeth, "That was a long time ago, Sensei. We don't do that anymore. Spring training is a lot easier now. We don't get as competitive."

Splinter chuckled again. "Those first seasons were so rough. You boys were all over the place, so angry, so intense, and the smell. Ugh. I am so glad that you are more controlled these days."

"We're not teens anymore, Dad. We know how t' train without fighting about it." Raphael said, adding emphasis on the word train.

Splinter nodded his head, biting into another pretzel, a pensive look on his face. "This is true. You are all grown now, and I only grow older." He patted you on the shoulder as he made his move to depart. "Maybe next year one of you will invite Ms. Y/N to your spring training so that I will enjoy some grand-kids before I die, hmmm?"

As he made his way from the table, you turned and blinked, utterly confused and seeing mortified faces on all four turtles.

@thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @sophiacloud28 @thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch

@tmntngl @avery73 @milykins @adebauchedsloth

@justalotoffanfiction @truffle-reblogs

[saintescuderia]

STOMACHING YOU // MV33

(a pancakes oneshot!)

AKA - max comes to you after winning abu dhabi 2021 and becoming a world champion

series masterlist here :) // the pancakes recipe here :)

A/N: hello! welcome to another oneshot part of the pancakes!universe. and of course i would choose such a controversial moment to write about. please remember creative liberties in fiction. we love max and lewis equally (oscar's chandler bing level sarcasm is the real goat here c'mon)

TW: emetophobia

(unedited.)

You were mopping up vomit. 

For some reason, it was this pile of vomit that occupied your thoughts. Who had done it? When had they had done it? It was in between the Mercedes and Red Bull motorhome so it could’ve been either. Team members throwing up from the sheer nerves wasn’t something new to you. But today, tonight, after everything... it really could’ve been from anything. Both teams had gone through it tonight. Everyone had gone through it tonight. The vomit before you could’ve very well had been come out of you from everything you had witnessed. 

The nausea you had felt hadn't let up since last night. Last night when Domenicali had specifically requested you to work the bar and you had served all the rich, white men drinks who laughed jovially as Free Practice spun past and you anxiously snuck glances on the Red Bull with the Black T-Cam. Number 33. Verstappen. Max. Your old driver.

He was so close to getting what the two of you had dreamed about for so long.

You really had wanted Max to win. Of course you did. He had been your driver since entering F1. He was your driver and, honestly, there was a part of you that was always going to be reserved for him.

It wasn't the same thing with that you had for Charles - that was something entirely different. But Max was the first and only driver that you had officially trained, that you had gone through all the F1 bullshit with.

Whereas Charles was perfectly media trained, Max always blamed (or credited) his shit-talking to, well, you.

Lewis was a brilliant driver, and with one of the kindest souls to match. Despite everything with F1, the man had survived the brutal ruthlessness of the sport and hadn't let the money or fame corrupt him. You had a lot of respect for him.

But it was undeniable that you wanted one for Max. Lewis had seven already. Can’t we just let Max have one?

Apparently, some big oil rich guy with ties to the FIA shared a similar thought.

Well, for different reasons. 

“Ta.” Said big oil rich guy said, barely glancing at you as set his espresso martini down at the table. Domenicali gave you an appreciative smile before returning his attention to the man who kept going on. You gathered the empty glasses and turned around to walk back the bar as the man kept talking.

“No, look Stefano. Don’t call me racist. Don’t. But Lewis is… we need a knew face for F1. Do you know what it looks like when I go back home and there’s one of… you know, like Max is…”

You almost vomited. 

It wasn't like this was new to you. It wasn't. However, the man being so open about it had you counting how many drinks However, considering the two glasses in your hand, the man was well buzzed enough for his drunk words to reflect the sober thoughts.

From behind the bar, you kept your head down, staring at the Jordan Fours the donned your feet. The Black Cats had been a gift from Max way back when and you had wearing them all weekend for him.

“Everyone is getting bored of Hamilton winning. Put Max’s face. The white hope for Formula !”

Your hand froze. You couldn't help it. Your head shot up to look at the fucking scum that had just said that.

Formula 1 had been a lot of things. Sexist - downright fucking misogynist. Your time as a trainer had a lot of men down playing your skills and work. The added part of your appearance being 'exotic' and 'foreign' only compounded this.

Suffice to say, you also respected Lewis a lot for him being the sole black man on the grid.

So to hear this. Now. In 2021. To hear such blatant fucking racism made your fist curl so much that the stem of the martini glass snapped.

Domenicali noticed. He met your eyes - his petrol friend distracted by the sounds outside - and he gave you a troubled look.  

It wasn’t the first time you had heard something troubling. It wasn’t like Domenicali hadn’t ever quietly sidled up to you before with a special NDA in hand and the following month’s payslip to have some special bonus. 

But this… this was… this was too much.

Your barely registered the blood dripping down from your palm as you threw the towel on the bar and stalked to the door. You passed another worker on your way who called out your name. You barely paid them any attention. Sure, VIP sector of the Experiences lounge held certain expectations - you couldn't exactly just leave.

But you also knew Stefano wouldn't say anything. Not after that. And if anyone else would have a problem with you leaving, you would just tell them to go talk to Domenicali themselves. There would be no way he would penalise you for that. Not when he was likely thinking right now about what 'bonus' he could give you to compensate for what you'd just heard.

You didn't realise you had gone into the bathroom until you were met the stalls. Apparently your body was working on its own accord since the neural pathways weren't registering the nausea that was going through you. Your legs moved to the stalls. You found yourself kneeling. You found bile rising. You found the protein pancakes from this morning exiting into the toilet bowl in front of you.

Now, a few hours later, Michael Masi had made a call, your right hand was wrapped in bandages, Max had won his World Championship and you were mopping up vomit.

Normally, you would've changed your shoes. Now, you couldn't find yourself to care. The Black Cats had suffered a few scuffs here and there and looking down at them, you couldn't find yourself to even care. Looking down at them, you thought about Max and started to cry.

He had won. The internet had broken. Toto Wolff’s calls to Masi still resounded in your ears. Christian Horner’s tears of joy still flashed in your mind. The TV had caught Lewis crying and his father comforting him. The TV had caught Jos congratulating Max. 

You knew all too well that had the outcome been reversed, Anthony would be celebrating like it was Lewis’ first Championship - but Jos would have no sense to even speak to his disappointment of a son!

If anything, you were just glad Max had won so that there would be no worrying tonight about what hidden scars his father would cause him. More than anything, you hated the fact that you were no longer able to protect Max like before. Drama aside, it broke your heart.

But your heart broke today for a different reason. Because even though Max would be okay... you were so fucking disappointed.

You saw - everyone fucking saw - Lewis still make an effort to celebrate on the podium. You saw how Anthony Hamilton still went to shake the hands of Jos, of Christian, of Max. 

And Max almost didn’t fucking shake Anthony's hand.

And that, you took on yourself. You honestly thought you had taught him better than that.

Someone called out your name. You blinked. A quick wipe of your eyes and you schooled your face to greet the wide grin set on the face of one very elated Max Verstappen who was still dressed in his race suit standing before you.

“There you are! I've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Why?"

"Why? What do you mean why? Because I'm a fucking World Champion!" He said like it was the most obvious thing. You looked around and frowned. You checked your watch. Enough time had passed that he would be done in the cool down room. That meant you probably should go there and finish mopping.

So you sighed and made a move on to finish with mopping this up so you could get to the driver's room. Your lack of reaction and going back to mopping clearly stumped the driver - no, World Champion, in front of you.

"You -- what are you doing?” Max said, completely taken aback.

“Mopping up vomit.”

"Get someone else to do this shit."

"This is my job now, Max." You said and looked up at him with a stern look that made Max's smile falter a little bit.

"Can't you get someone else to do it?" He asked, taking the cap off to run a hand through his blond hair. "I'm-- We won."

"You won." You corrected. "I'm no longer affiliated with Red Bull."

"But I..." He stopped and closed his eyes. He huffed and you could tell that he was trying to sort through his frustrations. You had coached him one too many times about using his big boy words and actually talk about his feelings. Since, of course, Jos did fuck all to help Max learn to talk about emotional needs.

"I want to celebrate with you. It's important that I celebrate with you." Max said, eyes still closed.

"You and I both know that's not going to happen. Your mother has a restraining order against me and your father's mood is going to be dampened seeing me." You said. Max's eyes opened and you hated how the joy dimmed.

"But... I'm a World Champion." He said, sounding like a kid again. A defeated kid.

“You’re still Max Verstappen.” You said, the emphasis. The emphasis served to remind him that, World Champion or not, he was still Verstappen. As in the son of the very man who loathed your guts. 

The emphasis also, you hoped was to remind him he was still a person, still Max Verstappen.

You wouldn’t let him lose himself like, arguably, Daniel had in the tempting champagne glory that comes with winning in Formula 1. 

And it was that thought that reminded you of the sad fury of disappointment you had been sorting through before he'd surprised you.

"Are you at least going to congratulate me?” Max asked. "I just became a World Champion finally. Everything we always said and you're mopping up fucking vomit!"

You stopped and looked up at him. You thought carefully of your next words. Taking a breath, you spoke.

"Did you shake Lewis' hand?"

"What?"

"Did you shake Lewis' hand?" You repeated.

"Why the fuck would that—"

"Sportsmanship, Max." You interrupted him and then went back to mopping. "That’s why. Sportsmanship."

This set him off. "Are you serious right now?" He called your name out and when you continued mopping, he came round and pulled the mop away from you. You stepped back and he stepped forward and suddenly both of you had your shoes - his racing shoes and your Jordan 4s - were now in it. "I did it. i finally did it. I proved them all wrong. Everyone said it wasn't going to happen. The commentators. The journalists. Even Christian had his doubts. But I fucking won. I did it. Jos -- Jos said he was proud of me!"

You fought to keep your voice calm and level. "So why are you here? Do you want me to say that I'm proud of you as well?"

Max didn't speak, but continued to breathe heavily. His pride and his anger wouldn't let him say yes.

"I thought you would be happy! We worked so hard for this. And I'm not so fucking arrogant to admit that I did it because of you. And here you are talking about Lewis hand?"

"Yes. Because I'm not taking credit for tonight. Not one single fucking bit of it." Max blinked, your voice starting to raise as you finally got to it. "You say you're not arrogant enough to want to celebrate with me. A nice shout out to the Hospitality worker who gave you the fucking seat and trained you to where you are now. But you know what? I would rather mop up this shit that pretend that I am happy about what happened."

"You're not happy for me?"

"I'm not happy at myself Max." You said, losing anger and heavy a tired sigh, finally looking up at the sky. It was dark but you couldn't see any stars. The light pollution from a night race was always so ridiculous. Suffocating almost.

"Why?"

"Because I thought I had taught you better than that." You said, finally bringing your eyes down to look at him. "You watched the cooldown, Max. You saw what happened."

"Yeah? And?"

"And?" You mimicked him. "I — if I had been up there with you guys tonight, what do you think the first thing I would do?" He remained silent. His shoulders gave a minuscule shrug. "I would shake Lewis' hand. Max. And I would slap you on the back of your neck and make sure you did the same fucking thing. Just like Anthony."

"Are you serious not going to congratulate me not shaking Lewis’ hand?"

"I'm sorry, and you're saying you're not arrogant?" Your eyes narrowed. "Clearly you're not getting it Max so let me be blunt. I would rather be mopping up this fucking vomit right now than stand beside whatever the fuck that was. I don’t mean to rain on your parade here, believe me, this goes beyond you. But the least you could’ve done was shake Lewis hand and prove them wrong!"

"Them?" Max frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Max." You pinched the bridge of your nose "I work in Hospitality. I serve the rich white man. I hear a lot of shit."

It took Max a second. You looked at him and watched his face continue to look at you confusedly until the understanding set in his widening eyes.

"Are you saying..."

"I'm not saying anything." You said with a grim smile. He immediately understood. NDAs were dished out on the daily around here.

You set the broom down and turned to fully face him. You put your hands on his shoulders and stared him dead in the eye. Given his height advantage, you leaned on your tip toes to be able to reach up and press a kiss to his forehead. Coming down, you saw his eyes shine and you gave him a soft smile.

"Maximilian, my brother, I love you. And I am happy for you. But when you're up, don't forget what it was like when you were down. Hold onto that, actually. It'll mean you won't lose yourself and be there for those that will always be down."

And with that, you turned around and went back to mopping.

Max stood there, unable to say or do anything. He was too overwhelmed with emotion. This... more than winning a Championship... this he felt more. He couldn't put this in words. This hurt. But in a good way. It... He felt... He just felt.

Max vaguely heard his name being called and hands pulling at him. Red Bull engineers talking about partying. You kept mopping. Head down, arms moving forward and back and you went about your manual labour task while expensive Champagne was flowing over him once more.

"Where do you want to go? Winner's choice!"

He knew exactly where he wanted to go. What he wanted - what he needed to.

-

Despite winning a Championship, Max Verstappen was still getting an earful from Jos. 

"Why the fuck did you go and shake his hand? And with all those cameras around? Do you know how that looks? He lost. You won. You don’t need to surround yourself with losers. No - fucking - pity. No mercy! Max! Why do you insist on being weak? I raised you better than this!"

Maybe that had been the problem. HIs methods of raising him.

His father’s tirade went to background music as he felt his phone buzz. He still had your contact details saved as before. 

tessio’s wings 💪💪💪

i’m proud of you

Max smiled to himself. It was funny how his father had finally said those words - had finally said he was proud of him - and they were hollow to him. How long had Max longed for Jos to finally say them and when he finally did... Max realised he didn't need them. He didn't want them. What he wanted was you again. To see you smile at him and tell him good job. To show him the love that he hadn't felt for most of his life. He had missed that.

taglist:

@eugene-emt-roe @spookystitchery @vicurious28 @taytaylala12 @c-losur3 @hiireadstuff @samantha-chicago @fionaschicken @casperlikej @bookstore-of-dreams @itsjustkhaos @sam-is-lost @laneyspaulding19 @formula1mount @bokutos-babyowl @stampiej @alilcloudy @bingussthirdtoe @sisinever @lilymurphy03 @inlovewmarlenemckinnon @charllleclerc

[paddockbunny]

Pinky Promise

Summary : Lewis takes Singer!Reader out on a Hot Lap. Rating : 16+ mostly but moments of 18+ Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Singer!Reader Word Count : 1,738 words ONE SHOT Trigger Warnings : Mostly fluffy with a slight undercurrent of NSFW, nothing major triggering, maybe implied age gap but adults anyway Images : curated from Pintrest Authors Note : ok ok, Sabrina Carpenter is the face claim I have had in mind while writing this. I feel she really suits the story and Lew tbh. Slight references to Juno, Bed Chem & Espresso but not directly so if you want to imagine someone else feel free 😉

Watching some fast cars, drinking a little champagne and having a nice weekend in the gorgeous South of France sunshine was all she expected when she had been invited to experience the famous Monaco Grand Prix. What she hadn’t expected was to find herself getting fitted for a helmet and told she was going around the track on what was called a “Hot Lap” with one of the F1 drivers. No, that was not on her bingo card, AT ALL!

She stood faking a smile as the chin strap was fitted under her chin. Trying hard not to show how terrified she was and make herself look immature and childish.

“So how fast exactly is this going to be?” It was an honest question so the fact a few of the PR people from different brands affiliated with the organisation let out little giggles and stifled laughs. “Well, that depends on the driver not really the car.” The older gentleman who was helping her smiled and tried to calm any nerves. “Who is the driver then?” She turned on the charm so she didn’t seem like some ditzy dumb blonde who knew absolutely nothing. Especially seeing as a camera was on her and she was being recorded.

“Uh, that would be me.” A man’s soft, calm voice came from behind her and she couldn’t help but spin around. She knew him. It would be hard not too. He was synonymous with the sport and even if she did sort of know little, she knew who Lewis fucking Hamilton was.

His hand went out and she was taken by how handsome he was in real life. He had perfect skin, perfect teeth and eyes that were so welcoming and inviting. “Lewis.” He introduced himself - as if he needed an introduction - and she slipped her small little hand into his and replied with her own name.

“I’m so nervous.” She admitted immediately but let a broad smile spread across her face. “Don’t be, I’ll keep you safe.” He winked and she had no idea if he was turning on the charm for the camera or if he was just such a genuine, nice person. When his hand ran down her arm in a comforting manner she knew it was the later. Definitely the later.

The same older man that had wrangled her (and her mass of curled coifed hair) into the black helmet she was now donning gave her some little safety instructions (“just in case”) and set her up inside of the very expensive, very fast looking sports car. She wondered in that moment if she should have asked for a loan of a t-shirt or something that at least covered her up more than the outfit that she was clad in. The scrap of barely there fabric that apparently constituted as a top was a poor choice for keeping any of her assets in place if things got wild and Lewis decided to throw her round as if the car were a rollercoaster. She pulled her little leather jacket around a bit more before the seatbelt was going around her. God, what had she gotten herself into.

“Have you ever done anything like this before?” Was Lewis’ first words to her when he jumped into the car beside her. No, she hadn’t, she never thought she ever would either. She was a safe non risk type. She had never been particularly sporty in her younger years and the thought of doing something so crazy as drive a car at top speed was insanity to her. The whole time she was getting “geared up” she wondered why her PR & PA had agreed to do this in the first place.

She shook her head as a no.

“A little scared?” He asked and she nodded “I don’t know what I have gotten myself into.” Shakily a laugh escaped her and it was met from Lewis with a broad smile. He talked to her, distracting her, as he started the engine. He explained some of the corners they were going to take and what to do with her head and neck. He said he would be “flat out” on the straights and to go with the movement of the car as he braked. He revved the engine a few times and told her to just enjoy herself.

“Easier said than done.” The quip back came quickly but both of them chuckled at it so she did manage to relax, even if it was only a teeny tiny little bit.

“Just remember to breathe.” Lewis added before he got a thumbs up from a guy with headphones on and a clipboard who was standing relatively close to the front of the car. “Wait.” Her hand darted out and grabbed his arm, his skin smooth and velvety under her fingertips.

“Pinky promise you’ll not go too fast” she held her pinky up and Lewis let out a loud, roar of laughter and she couldn’t help but admire how down right gorgeous he really was. The way the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he grinned. That little gap between his front teeth that would have been a bit dorky on someone else but was sort of alluring on him. He was truly a handsome man. His own pinky looped and linked around hers and he nodded dynamically but one thing Lewis didn’t know was how to go slow. He didn’t do slow. He never did slow.

Lewis tried to focus as hard as he could on the driving. He tried not to pay too much mind to the beautiful - no drop dead fucking gorgeous - woman sitting inches from him giggling and letting out excitable squeals whenever he increased in acceleration or cornered. But his attempts where overwhelmingly futile. He kept catching a glimpse of her perfect bare legs and taught stomach and he could feel his mouth salivating. From their brief interaction moments before getting into the car to the pinky promise they had made just before they set off, Lewis couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking hot she was. He knew of her before but not very well - pop wasn’t exactly his choice of music - and he wondered why the hell not? Even if it were for the fact she was one of the most exquisite women he had ever laid eyes on. Now he knew why all of the guys back in the garage (and some of the other drivers) were jealous of him getting to drive her around the famous street circuit. He would indeed be jealous if this hot lap had been granted to someone like Charles or worse, Lando!

“Oh my God!” She exhaled deeply with pure excited adrenaline coursing through her veins. The thrill, the buzz, the kick all roared wildly throughout her entire being. Her heart was pounding and her legs were shaking from pure exhilaration.

“Lew!” She gasped as he slowed the car right down and brought it into what she had come to learn was the Pit Lane. “That was…” better than sex was what she was going to say but remembered she was being filmed and that would have set the rumour mill into overdrive so she just shook her head.

“You’re amazing.” She grabbed his arm after he turned the engine off and he was beaming from ear to ear at hearing her so stimulated by the lap. And as if there was some manifested universe shit going on they both looked at each other and felt something there. Something that wasn’t just because of the rush of driving around a track with undoubtably the best driver in the world.

Lewis hadn’t stopped thinking about her all weekend. In particular he couldn’t stop thinking of the same one mental screenshot he took. Her smiling, breathless, panting with hair messy after stepping out of the car and he wondered if that was how she looked after she orgasmed. The feeling of her press her body against his in an encompassing hug as a thank you for giving her the “ride of her life” (her own words), almost made him loose his mind so he tried desperately to ignore that one. In fact, Lewis thought about the long tresses over her face and those big pouty parted lips as he strolled into the paddock on the Sunday morning with his headphones on listening to her latest album.

It wasn’t what he was expecting when he heard she was a pocket sized pop princess. The rhythms were smooth, sensual even, and the lyrics? OH BOY! They would put some of his own past efforts to shame. Lewis had to try hard to keep himself from looking visibly scandalously shocked. She didn’t seem the type to write song about how horny she was and instructions on how she likes it. But he liked it, no, he loved it. He could totally understand why she was a sensation and why everyone was jealous of his one on one car time with her.

Suited up and ready to head out for the national anthem, Lewis was in the zone as he made his way through toward the garage. His headphones still firmly on his head, her voice lulling away in his ear singing about how sweet she tastes. He hadn’t expected to glance over to the area behind Toto and see her there, standing looking like a fucking goddess. She raised her hand and waved at him like so many others did but he only could focus on her. He was down bad for her and he only met her a few days ago. God, he was never like this. No girl ever has heart race that quickly before when he hadn’t even gotten to know them. So he knew what he needed to do. He turned to whoever it was helping him out that afternoon and without hesitation mentioned her name and followed it with;

“Can you please invite her to dinner tonight?” “Sure. I’ll need to check it’s cool to add another place”

“No, no, not team dinner. Just her and I.” He replied and the dude raised his eyebrows at first but smiled broadly.

“Yeah, Mate. I don’t blame you.” He winked and Lewis let out a long sigh. The very one he had been holding from the moment he made that pinky promise right before the Hot Lap that will be forever ingrained in his mind.

[silversainz]

Snut prompt 23

Lewis hamilton

Prompt requested 23 “such a tiny baby, so small you could see my dick in your stomach”

# warnings — obvious size kink, bulge kink, don!lewis, dirty talk.

You were small compared to Lewis and that was something he absolutely adored, loving how small your hands looked compared to his, loved how you always needed help when wanting something from the top shelf and oh, absolutely loved how how small you looked underneath him while his cock was buried deep in your cunt.

And now as whines and moans left your mouth was the prime example of how crazy Lewis went seeing your small frame trapped underneath him as his cock hit all the areas that had tears escaping your eyes hitting the bedsheets, staining them with the paint that fell from your eyes as he pounded into you at an brutal pace.

“Fuck Lewis” your hands scratched down his back, groans falling from his mouth as the felt the weight of your fingertips dig into his back surely leaving marks.

“Fuck look at you, such a tiny baby, so small you can see my dick in your stomach” his hand threaded through your hair tugging your head forward to look at where you both were connected at, the sight of seeing his dick in your stomach made you moan loudly, cunt becoming wetter as the image of his cock wouldn’t leave your head.

“Don’t stop Lewis- fuck-please” you begged legs starting to shake and stomach getting tighter. “Shit, am gonna cum” your back arched off the bed feeling hit that one spot that had you seeing stars.

Lewis ducked his head down forehead touching yours as grunts left his mouth, “cum for me baby, cum”

[superman86to99]

Superman: The Man of Steel #37 (September 1994)

Zero Hour is here, and so is Batman! And Batman, and Batman, and Batman, and, yes, even Batman! Clark Kent and Lois Lane are strolling down beautiful, half-destroyed Metropolis when Clark sees a Morse code message coming from a rooftop. It turns out to be Batman, who's looking rather... Neal Adams-ish. Superman should have realized something was off when Batman called him "old friend," even though these two have only been able to stand each other for (in DCU time) about a year at most.

Not only does Batman not recognize Superman's post-resurrection mullet hippie hair, but he seems confused when Superman mentions that little incident where he had his back broken by a 'roided-out wrestler, which suggests that he hasn't experienced the '90s at all. If Superman was truly Batman's friend, he'd rush him to the nearest arcade to play Super Street Fighter II Turbo right away.

Anyway, Batman dropped by Metropolis to warn Superman that there's some sort of "time anomaly" going on that's making "people from the past" show up in the present. You don't say.

Meanwhile, the big "concert to rebuild Metropolis" that's been teased in recent issues is about to get started. The organizer, Lois Lane's douchey ponytail-wearing ex-boyfriend Jeb Friedman, is jumped by some guys who look a whole lot like the Mutant gang from Frank Miller's The Dark Knight Returns, who hate Jeb because they don't want Metropolis to be rebuilt (as opposed to any of the other 99,999 valid reasons for hating Jeb). Tragically, Jeb's life is saved by the grittiest, most violent Batman of all: yes, Ben Affleck.

(Just kidding. I know that's actually Adam West.)

After saving Jeb, this Batman runs into Superman and says he came to warn him about the time anomalies, but it's pretty obvious he already knew about them, considering he's hanging out with two separate Batmen and all. The Batmen barely have any time to get acquainted before a third Batman drops by, this one looking like he came straight from 1939's Detective Comics #27. Oh, and then the Neal Adams Batman suddenly turns into a different, much more pointy-eared Batman in the middle of a sentence.

(The DC wiki claims it's Kelley Jones Batman, but our resident art expert Don Sparrow says it could be Marshall Rogers Batman.)

Since Superman's all-purpose science guy isn't in his lab right now, he decides to bring the Batmen to the benefit concert in case the Mutants cause any more trouble -- especially since the music is so loud, it's "interfering with [Superman's] super-hearing." We just discovered another Superman vulnerability aside from Kryptonite and magic: '90s death metal.

As predicted, the Mutants do strike during the concert, and somehow even bring a whole tank into it (today, you can't even bring in a water bottle). Luckily, the music was so loud that most of the crowd didn't even notice it took one Superman, three Batmen, and some anti-tank explosives courtesy of DKR Batman to save them.

Superman finally finds Professor Hamilton, who was at the concert with some girlfriends, and asks him look into the mystery of the many Batmen. Hamilton employs his usual approach to scientific investigation: just put people inside a big glass ball (the isolation chamber first seen in Adventures #458).

Hamilton's instruments determine that "something very odd is happening to time," which Superman probably could have figured out without the need of a big glass ball -- especially since the Batmen are now rapidly turning into other Batmen and fading out of existence. Hamilton's conclusion is that Superman should probably look up the real Batman from this timeline. Just then, Superman hears a high-pitched noise: it's that precise Batman, who just arrived in Metropolis and used a gizmo to call his attention.

'90s Batman says the same thing as the others: weird time-related things are happening in Gotham... and Metropolis too, as is pretty clear by now. Just then, Metron of the New Gods shows up in his funky time-and-space-traveling chair to say that this isn't a mere "time anomaly" -- it's a CRISIS™!

TO BE CONTINUED IN ZERO HOUR!

Plotline-Watch:

That last scene is also seen in Batman #511 (in part) and Zero Hour #4 (in full). By the way, I'm pretty sure this is the first time Superman and Batman have met since the former came back to life and the latter got his back fixed. It's too bad they didn't update Batman's looks in some way when he returned, like maybe with a mullet showing through his cowl, Batgirl-style. In fact, they should give all DC heroes mullets when they come back from death/paralysis.

All through the issue, we see a Kryptonian ship (like Superman's birth matrix, but bigger) traveling through space, arriving on Earth, landing on Smallville, and, finally, its occupants getting off and going up to the Kent farm. They turn out to be Jor-El and Lara... and they think Pa Kent is their son. Maybe Superman's human parents aren't the only ones who need glasses.

The most dramatic part of the concert is when one of the Mutants shoots at the headlining artist, Jimmy Olsen's old friend Babe, and we see the bullet go through her chest. Then she dramatically turns into a giant bat and spooks her assailant while the audience cheers, convinced that these are just really good stage tricks. Later, Jimmy visits Babe backstage and congratulates her on the effects. She's like "yes... effects." (As a reminder, the last time we saw her, two years ago, she was bitten by a vampire.)

It's obscured by the big glass ball in the panel up there, but Professor Hamilton debuts his hydraulic robot arm in this issue, having lost his flesh and blood one in Adventures #514. Incidentally, the "girlfriends" of Hamilton's I mentioned before are Case, the white-haired girl he met in that Adventures issue, and her Riot Grrrl bandmates, who invite Ham to sit with them near the stage. I'm surprised he didn't lose his other arm in the mosh pits.

Keith the Unlucky Orphan attends the concert with his new friend Alice White and her husband, Perry, but Keith wanders off when he thinks he sees his long-gone mom in the crowd. That's the last we see of Keith in this issue, so it's easy to get the impression that he got ran over by the tank or something. (At least we learn that Lucan, that other kid from last issue, did find his mom.)

At the end of the issue, Jeb confirms his scumbag status by bragging to Lois that Clark has never done anything as "awesome" as organizing a concert with extremely lax security, and then trying to get Lois to come to Paris with him. Lois is surprisingly patient with him and even gives him a kiss on the cheek. He urges her to get married quick because "that's the only thing that will keep me from coming back," which is the best argument for the Clark/Lois marriage I've seen.

Regarding the scene above, notorious Jeb-hater Don Sparrow says: "Lois' dodge on what’s so great about Kent might read to us like she’s talking about him being Superman, but--forgive me--from Jeb’s point of view, it just sounds like she’s talking about his dick." Okay, so it wasn't just me.

Shout Outs-Watch:

Bat-shout outs to our Bat- I mean Super-supporters, Aaron, Chris “Ace” Hendrix, britneyspearsatemyshorts, Patrick D. Ryall, Bheki Latha, Mark Syp, Ryan Bush, Raphael Fischer, Kit, Sam, Dave Shevlin, and Dave Blosser! We're currently giving away some original Maxima art to one supporter and have another cool art poll/giveaway coming up! Join them (and get extra non-continuity articles, plus the giveaways) via Patreon or our newsletter’s “pay what you want” mode!

The great Don Sparrow had a LOT to say about the art in this issue this issue, starting with trying to identify all the Batmen on the cover, so buckle up and keep reading:

Art-Watch (by @donsparrow):

We start with the cover, and it’s an instant classic, with Jon Bogdanove showing off by emulating the art styles of over a dozen Batman artists from comics history, while still maintaining his own personal style in the middle of all of it.  While I’m sure I’m wrong about a few, here’s as many as I could identify, starting counter-clockwise from top left:

1.    Moebius?  It kind of looks like the helmeted version of Batman from the final fight with Superman, but they already have a Frank Miller here. There’s definitely something European about this rendering, though, so I’m going with Moebius. [Max: This one looks elderly to me... is there an Elseworlds or something about a geriatric Batman?]

2.    Frank Miller

3.    Neal Adams

4.    Bruce Timm

5.    Dick Sprang

6.    Gil Kane (with the rendering looking like Murphy Anderson's gentle feathered inks)

7.    Kelley Jones

8.    Michael Kaluta? These backwards facing ones are tricky, because I’m not totally sure they’re supposed to be representative of any artist, but those distinct cape folds look like Kaluta to me.

9.    Michael Golden?  Again, not sure it’s supposed to be anyone in particular, but Golden was a giant for Batman covers at a certain point, and favoured the long eared look.

10.  Irv Novick

11.  Lewis Wilson (not an artist, but the actor from the low-rent serials of the 40s)

12.  Carmine Infantino—the lips are unmistakable, and again, the feathering looks like Murphy Anderson.

13.  Jim Aparo

14.  Bernie Wrightson—either that or Kelley Jones again, but the face looks a little more natural, which makes me think Wrightson.

15.  Jerry Robinson

16.  Walt Simonson?  Wasn’t sure about this one, but the cape folds looked like his geometric linework

17.  Bob Kane

What do you think?  Any mistakes I have here?  Please let me know!

Inside the story, we’re greeted almost immediately by the off-putting sight of Jeb Friedman, one of my least liked characters in all of Superman-dom.  Then again—we’re supposed to not like him, so the creative team is doing a bang-up job. I will say, Jeb’s noxiousness is cut in half when Clark also has a ponytail, which at one time I think was a design element intended to hint at a Steven Seagal-like irritating personality, before they had to add one to Clark to differentiate between he and Superman.  One odd detail—I haven’t seen many tour jackets where the band’s name is hyphenated.

On page three’s almost double page spread, we get our first Batman era, the Neal Adams version of the character, exemplified by the exaggerated hand gestures and warm rim lighting.  As the Riot Grrrls try to meet Babe Tanaka, they’re stopped by a very Chris Farley looking roadie/security guard, but the timeline doesn’t work.

Though “Big Dan” bears a striking resemblance to Farley’s security guard character from Black Sheep that movie wouldn’t come out for another two years or so, and the character design doesn’t look enough like Farley’s security character from Wayne’s World 2, so maybe it’s just a generic roadie character.  I do love Professor Hamilton’s awkward, hands-off reaction to Case laying a big old, 20-years-his-junior hug on him. 

A few pages later we get our first glimpse of both the timeline-lost Dark Knight Returns version of Batman, as well as his Mutant street gang.  I love how these pages employ Frank Miller’s caption boxes and tiny square panels.  It’s interesting to me that so many artists since DKR have depicted this version of Batman’s costume as brownish gray and black, when, to my eye, it’s a muted navy and gray in the original pages.  One of the animated adaptations of this story also went with the black and warm gray motif, which has always confused me—Lynn Varley is certainly a gifted enough painter to represent blacks and grays without the comic book trick of shading them with blue (like Superman’s hair, for instance) so that interpretations since have deviated from navy and gray perplexes me a little.  When you read DKR, what colour did you think his uniform was? [Max: I'm gonna go with grey. The brown-ish always baffled me.] At any rate, we lose Bogdanove’s style almost completely as the figures and even the scratchy finishes perfectly recall Miller and Klaus Janson.

Only a page or two later we get another Batman, this the slight, purple gloved version from 1939, and then on the next page, the Neal Adams Batman appears to give way to the Marshall Rogers version (or at least a different long-eared interpretation of the character).  On page 11, we have a stunning image of Superman overlooking three different Batmen on their personal gargoyles, and the one in the middle seems soooo familiar to me, but I can’t place it, perfectly. It could just be the Rogers Batman again, but the cape folds and body gesture looks like it could be referencing a pin-up from Michael Kaluta, Sandy Plunkett, or Michael Golden.  Any insights?  Certainly, as the story progresses, this version of Batman has the flowing geometric cape Rogers’ drew.  Babe Tanaka playing right through the assassination attempt is a great visual, though it’s jarring to see her Vampirella-meets-Cher stage costume in a code book. 

Throughout the whole issue there’s some really cool zip-a-tone effects, like when Superman descends to the first two Batmen, in a DKR cover callback.

Later as those same Batmen jump into action, the ben day dots lend a sense of depth, and finally the effect in the background during Babe’s supernatural transformation are very well used. 

Once the Batmen hit Professor Hamilton’s lab, the transformations come and go quickly, as the Bob Kane Batman gives way to what appears to be the Adam West version, then only a panel later the Marshall Rogers Batman switches to the “new look” Batman as imagined by Carmine Infantino and Murphy Anderson.  Just as quickly, the grim n’ gritty DKR Batman is subbed out for the grinning n’ gleeful Dick Sprang version of the character. Finally, as the alternate timeline Batmen disappear, Superman makes his way to Gotham, and it’s very cool that even with Bogdanove’s distinct style, we know this is the modern Batman.  I love that during this era they went back to the Cord Batmobile in Batman comics, but it’s extra appropriate here, where there’s already a bunch of anachronisms running around.

As an art fan, this issue was a real treat, but in terms of plot, there wasn’t much—just a series of different Batman costumes running in and saying “something weird is happening!”.  It reminded me of the monologue when my fellow 5’4” heartthrob Michael J. Fox hosted SNL, and the different Michael J. Foxes kept running in to warn him that his monologue was about to bomb.  But, it does mean we’re in the era of Zero Hour, at last, which is one of my favourite crossovers of all time, in no small part because of the story’s deep connection to the Superman books, from the writer/art team, to the Linear Men’s important role.

SPEEDING BULLETS:

There’s perhaps something funny about the Neal Adams Batman accusing Superman of “going hippie” when the Neal Adams version of the character was most famously written by self-proclaimed hippie, Dennis O’Neil.

It does my heart good to see that Jimmy indeed also doesn’t care for Jeb Friedman.  But between my hatred for Jeb, and Max’s dislike of Jimmy, does the disdain cancel itself out?  I can’t figure the math on this. [Max: I also hate Jeb, so I think the hate is multiplied and becomes uber-hate.]

Jimmy also seems unafraid to “be that guy” wearing the shirt of the band to the concert of the band.  I actually think this is kind of a dumb rule, myself, so you go Jimmy.

Speaking of resentment, my main issue with Ron Troupe, apart from his fashion sense, is that he seems to be a replacement Jimmy, sidelining him in the cub reporter role (and eventually in the romance department as well, though we’re not there yet).  But it’s nice seeing them team-up.  Maybe they’re only competitors in my mind.

I like that the Dark Knight version of Batman also includes his wry commentary, about the sounds of violence drawing Superman, and the slight diss that the mullet has impaired Superman’s perfection. 

Little Keith having a nice picnic day with the Whites does my heart good, and I do like the foreshadowing with Keith feeling like spending time with them is “almost like having a family” again.

I do like that pretty much all the Batmen who show up are too square to enjoy Shredding Metal’s music.  It does make me curious what it sounds like.  I imagine her vocals sounding like Cassandra Wong from Wayne’s World, but the sound might be heavier and screechier than Crucial Taunt. [Max: For some reason, I imagine it as Yoko Ono singing System of Down.]

(Controversial opinion coming up!) I kinda like that Superman stops the DKR Batman from taking out the tank, a nice echo of the Dark Knight Returns storyline, where Superman was the real hero of the story (had he not stopped that nuke, it wouldn’t matter how many Mutant Leaders Batman beat at mud-wrestling).

So who did Babe feed on that Mutant quickly after she got off stage?  I’ll admit, I wouldn’t have minded if it was Rob, Don or one of the other mutants out to kill her.

I get that Jeb is supposed to be an Henri-from-Cheers “I’m going to steal your girlfriend” like foil for Clark, but his line-crossing pursuit of Lois isn’t cute—or a relationship that Lois should indulge, even as friends.

The Vampirella connection is made even more clear with the zoom-in on Babe’s eyes, with pupils bearing a bat that looks a whole heckuva lot like the logo on Vampirella’s costume (which you can google yourself, as I’m struggling to find even a single worksafe image of the lone daughter of Drakulon).  The idea that she’s bummed about being a vampire, as exemplified her her teary eyes, is a novel twist.

It’s amusing that Jor-El and Lara are so unfamiliar with their son that they mistake him for Kal-El’s septuagenarian adoptive father on that last page.

It’s fun to see all these different interpretations of Batman, but if this story were released today, there would be even MORE iconic incarnations that didn’t yet exist in 1994!  Batman as drawn by Jim Lee, Tim Sale, Frank Quitely, Alex Ross, Gary Frank, Francesco Francavilla, etc. were all still ahead of us! I was glad to see Jim Aparo referenced on the cover, but my other personal favourite Batman artist, Norm Breyfogle, was left off this issue, perhaps because he was too recent to be considered “classic” in 1994.

With all the Batman artists referenced in this issue, we ask you: which Batman artist era costume would you like to see me sketch?   Sound off in the comments, or vote in our poll… [Max: Poll coming soon, but Bat-suggestions are welcome!]

Missed an issue? Looking for an old storyline? Check out our new chronological issue index!

[smoothoper44tor]

Enemies on the papers, lovers in the shadows

(🔖) Pairing: Jenson Button x male reader

Face claim: Andy Samberg

(🔖) Summary: The McLaren boys go from enemies to lovers during the 2010 season. Apparently, they just needed to blow some steam of.

(🔖) Warnings: use of bad words, degradation, internalised homophobia (kinda), free homophobia f1, suggestive, mentions of hate sex.

masterlist | part two…

27 November 2009 . . .

NEWS

Jenson Button on joining fellowship driver Paolo Primo in McLaren for the next 2010 season.

Both drivers had a very intense rivalry this season, having a very close fight for the championship. Primo failed in winning the championship by 32 points. He assured unfair penalisation, which was, according to him once again, Button’s fault, made him lose.

Button and Primo made several displays of hate between each other during press conferences and interviews. Still, Button is “very intrigued in what will this new season bring him”, and alleges he “couldn’t be more happy to be teammates with Paolo [Primo], I love that guy”

More info • you might also like . . .

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ｡･ੈ✩‧₊˚

26 March 2010 . . .

NEWS

Paolo Primo and alleged girlfriend, Joanna Newsom, arriving the Paddock (Melbourne, Australia)

Primo arrived this morning for the first practice along his alleged girlfriend. He hasn’t confirmed being in a relationship, yet they have being seen together in several occasions, being one the Bahrain Grand Prix last week.

He was asked about relationship with teammate Jenson Button after crash in the Bahrain GP, Button was able to keep driving, finishing 7th, but Primo ended DNFing due to damage from the crash. He dismissed the question instantly: “Childs can only act like childs” he said.

Paolo and Jenson were seen having an argument. He was later seen with Lewis Hamilton and Robert Kubica, Renault drivers this season, to not talk to Jenson again for the rest of the morning.

"Get the fuck out, Button" Paolo hissed, barely looking at the blond man. Jenson had sneaked into his drivers room, catching Paolo by surprise while changing into his driving clothes.

"C´mon Pao, don´t be boring" cheekiness brigthed his expression. He kept on trying to get close to the american. Paolo pulled his shirt up, blue eyes glued at him. "I came to check on you" He finally gulped.

"T´thing is I don´t want to fucking see you" Paolo punched the other´s chest with the fireproof in his hand. Jenson could do nothing but back off, his wide smile as a proof he was pleased with the touch. "Seriously, I´m not in the mood" He pronounced each word roughly.

"Stop acting all grumpy, I´m sure we can work this out"

"Work this out! Are ya´ fucking kidding me?" He got closer with each word "I tried to ‘work this out’, and you’ve fucking with me since first day" Jenson was unable to keep his eyes away from him, they were so close. Eyes, lips, eyes, lips, eyes... "Making fun of me, talk shit behind ma´back, fucking my race. My race Jen-" lips. Every word abandoned his mind as Jenson´s hand caressed his curls. His back muscles clenched when the british’s left hand found his waist. The hand curved perfectly against him, shameless teases into his skin. Right when the hand found the curve to his ass Paolo pushed him, not hard enough for them to separate, but rough enough for Jenson to slow down with a desperate breath.

"You kissed me" An amused expression in the curly haired man "Who the fuck kisses in tha’ middle of a fight" Jenson smiled dizzily.

"Things were heating up" He said smugly, the smile on his face growing wider "I didnt figure that girlfriend of yours would mind" That little piece of shit, of course he knew. The team was forcing him into a relationship, good sponsoring they said. Paolo thought nobody would know except his team.

"God, you are an asshole" his hands pushed Jenson against the door of the room hesitant.

"Am I?" The curly haired shallow, ignoring unsuccessfully all the thoughts that run in his head.

"Shut up"

"Man, where were you?" Kubica screamed for his attention as Paolo made his way out of the McLaren motor home. Both Renault drivers looked at him, Robert wearing a cap weirdly and Lewis drinking from his bottle.

"Drivers room, getting ready an´all" he held the racing suit, adjusting the clothing to his waist.

"Having some fun or what?" The older man eyed his neck. Paolo heated up, thinking he had hide the red, now turning purple, spot.

"Uhm, yeah. Having fun" he mumbled. Lewis laughed.

"Hilarious. What a piece you are"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ｡･ੈ✩‧₊˚

28 August 2010 . . . (Belgium gp)

paoprimo54

❤️ liked by jensonbutton, mclaren and others

Hello Instagram?

comments

user5: he’s so baby girl

jensonbutton: he likes them big

⤷ user5: wow, I wasn’t expecting that

⤷ user2: and he’s talking about en sandwiches right

⤷ user66: be so fcking for right I just knew they banged each other after Australia.

user3: IM GOING INSANE HEs SO BEAUTIFUUUUL 🎀😩

user9: Jensons comments is insane

⤷ user8: those two have the hots for each other

user12: the man you are pao, the man you are 😔

mclaren

❤️ liked by paoprimo54, kimiraikonnen and others

Both of our drivers will renew their contract next year. We’re very proud to count with these young talents, and are be ready to work on the constructors and teams championships!! (tagged: jensonbutton, paoprimo54)

comments

paoprimo54: Looking forward to our relationship together!!

⤷ jensonbutton: Sure you do Pao

user6: IM LOVING THIS MCLAREN ERA 🤭

user23: 💪🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

user9: Lovely team, lovely duo

⤷ user47: destructive duo*

jensonbutton: 💪💪💪

⤷ paoprimo54: shut up nutcase 😘

“God” he lets out a heavy sigh. Both of them naked in the hotel room. All windows were open and a lean blanket covered them dramatically “We should do this more often” Jenson looked beautiful with his dumb characteristic smiled, all flustered.

“What? Screwing in my hotel room?” Paolo laughs, resting his head in his right bicep.

“Yeah, but-” Jenson laughs at his little joke “not what I meant. You and I”

“Are you asking me out honey?” The derision in his tone was more than obvious, but the blond melted with the pet name, every little piece of attention melting his skin lovely.

“I am” The American saw Jenson stand up in his elbows just to see his face better “Do you want to go out with me?” A little smile crawling into his face.

“I don’t know Jense” Paolo knew nothing good could come out of that, they could be seen, filmed, but a little voice in the back of his head whispered prayers for him to accept.

“Italian food” Jense’s smile grew back again because he knew Paolo wouldn’t say no to his favourite food.

“Italian huh?” He bitted his lip annoyed “Shit, fine”

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ｡･ੈ✩‧₊˚

16 November 2010 . . .

skysports

❤️ liked by sebastianvettel, joannanwesom and others

Paolo Primo winner of the Constructors Championship of 2010 with McLaren. He is the first American winner since Mario Andretti in 1978 and first Jew to win a Championship since Jody Scheckter in 1979. After two DNF’s and a rough time getting along with his teammate, Primo scored the most points, being followed very close by Sebastian Vettel Red Bull’s new acquisition.

comments have been restricted

markwebber: Amazing brother💪💪💪

jensonbutton: Very deserved ❤️!

joannanewsom: ❤️❤️❤️

feralonsoofficial: Well done Paolo 💪😘

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ｡･:*˚:✧｡ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ｡･ੈ✩‧₊˚

6 June 2024 . . .

paoprimo54

❤️ liked by jensonbutton, pedrodelarosa and others

I’ve heard there’s been a lot of talking about mine and Jense’s relationship, has been for 15 years. I just wanted to clarify that we did in fact hate each other for long eight years, buuuuut we just needed to blow some steam and now we’re very close (that’s our kid in the last one).

comments

user1: definitely not on my 2024 bingo

⤷ user1: not complaining tho

markwebber: Proud of you guys!

user2: PAO N JENSE HUSBANDS CONFIRMED 💕💍👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

sebastianvettel: 💪❤️

lewishamilton: Baby Lou looks beautiful!

user3: this is actually my Roman Empire

joannanewsom: ❤️

user5: my favourite gays

⤷ user8: best enemies to lovers fr fr

user13: And during pride month… The way I love u Paolo

logansargeant: Happy pride month I guess lol💪

⤷ paoloprimo54: hahah ❤️

[scuderia-piastri]

starting line

✮⋆˙ summary: it’s media day for the first race of the season and eyes are on the rookie for ferrari

✮⋆˙ warnings: none!

rrcsav masterlist

there are maybe seven different t-shirts laying out in front of her. seven, and somehow she still can’t choose? on a normal day, she wouldn’t even have cared so much to pick out 7 options.

but the media day for the first race of her debut season can’t just be any day. the only glimpse the public had of her officially since she joined with ferrari was the livery reveal, where she got to don the signature red racing suit for the first time. and surely she’s overthinking it, but this outfit has to be curated perfectly to set the first impression. not trying too hard, like the dress she just discarded onto the floor, but not just showing up in a team kit and calling it a day.

she looks through her options one more time, willing herself to just choose one, before being snapped back into reality by the knocking at her hotel door. maybe she lost track of time and housecleaning was waiting for her to get out.

“give me a minute, sorry!”

“yeah, no worries, take your time.” the brit behind the door calls back.

freezing for a moment, red looks back at the door and inhales. of all the times for her teammate, a 7 time world champion, to visit her, this has to be one of the most inconvenient.

scrambling to the door and almost stumbling on the suitcase she forgot she put there, she opens the door with probably what seems to be an unnaturally big smile, trying to block lewis’s view of the room which has clothes thrown everywhere and makeup covering the tables. “lewis, hi, didn’t expect you to be here.”

“yeah, just thought i’d check in before we’re in the paddock. the first day tends to be stressful from what i remember.” if he noticed anything amiss, he didn’t give any sign of it, just smiling back with his hands in the pockets of his well-styled media day outfit.

she let herself relax. “thank you, i really appreciate it. just a bit nervous, as one would expect, but i’m excited. probably one of the biggest days of my life.”

“yeah, mate, i can imagine. don’t stress too much, alright? i’m sure you’ll do great. see you out there.”

“thanks, i’ll try not to. see you there.”

“and for the first time in quite a long long time, we have a female racer here to race with ferrari, as well as the first indian one to do so. what’s your input, karun? you seem to be pretty excited about this one.”

“i really am, crofty. it’s nice to see a woman competing at the top level of motorsport, but it’s also amazing to see it’s a woman of color. representation is important in this sport, of course, and she looks promising. ferrari chose a great line up, all things considered with the surprises from last year.”

“surprises indeed! to see the former ferrari golden boy now driving a red bull is quite jarring, to be honest. i suppose 2025 is the year for surprises.”

“and one of our most anticipated rookies this year, here we have red, who will be joining ferrari this year and teaming with 7 time world champion lewis hamilton. red, how are you feeling about the weekend ahead?” the reporter handed a microphone to red, who smiled nervously.

“well, obviously nervous but quite excited as well, as i’m sure the other rookies around will also tell you. if i’m being honest, it still feels like a dream,” she laughed, shaking her head. “it’s an unbelievable amount of support that i’ve gotten, and i appreciate all of it. can’t wait to prove myself this season.”

“and there you have it, ladies and gentlemen, ferrari’s new driver for 2025,” the reporter turned back to the camera and smiled. “many exciting things coming up this season, and i’m sure we’ll all be tuned in for every bit of the action. i can tell this one will be a good one.”

tag list: @sid-is-gr8 @mellowarcadefun @justadesirebel @foreveralbon

[bikinibottomdayz]

DECEMBER 25, 2024 RELEASE

All my videos can be found here, full release under the read more! I am also offering the two Gypsy videos as a bundle for 30 USD! If interested, please contact me at bikinibottomtrading@gmail.com!

This release includes: Gypsy (first and last preview), Elf, Eureka Day, Hamilton

ELF November 22, 2024 | Broadway | 4K MP4 (8.85GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Grey Henson (Buddy), Kayla Davion (Jovie), Ashley Brown (Emily), Michael Hayden (Walter Hobbs), Sean Astin (Santa/Mr. Greenway), Kai Edgar (Michael), Jennifer Sánchez (Deb), Kalen Allen (Macy's Manager), Corinne C Broadbent (Mrs. Claus), J Savage (Ensemble), Michael Milkanin (Ensemble), Halli Toland (Ensemble), David Paul Kidder (Ensemble), Clifton Samuels (Ensemble) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this modernized revival! Some obstruction when latecomers get seated, mostly in the first act and beginning of the second act. Some wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBSFuL | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JUNE 17, 2025

EUREKA DAY December 6, 2024 | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (6.88GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Amber Gray (Carina), Jessica Hecht (Suzanne), Bill Irwin (Don), Thomas Middleditch (Eli), Chelsea Yakura-Kurtz (Meiko) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this new play! Some wandering and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBUkSw | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JUNE 17, 2025

GYPSY November 21, 2024 | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (11.81GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Audra McDonald (Rose), Danny Burstein (Herbie), Joy Woods (Louise), Jordan Tyson (June), Kevin Csolak (Tulsa), Lesli Margherita (Tessie Tura), Lili Thomas (Mazeppa), Mylinda Hull (Electra/Miss Cratchitt), Marley Lianne Gomes (Baby June), Jacob Ming-Trent (Uncle Jocko/Kringelein), Kyleigh Vickers (Baby Louise), Jade Smith (Uncle Jocko Kid), Jace Bentley (Carmichael/Newsboy), Brandon Burks (Georgie), Hunter Capellán (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies), Tony d’Alelio (Little Rock), Summer Rae Daney (Balloon Girl), Kellie Jean Hoagland (Edna), Aliah James (Geraldine), Brittney Johnson (Agnes), Zachary Daniel Jones (Angie), Ethan Joseph (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies), Andrew Kober (Mr. Goldstone/Cigar/Bourgeron-Cochon), Krystal Mackie (Thelma), James McMenamin (Weber/Pastey/Phil), Cole Newburg, Majo Rivero (Dolores), Sally Shaw (Marjorie May/Renée), Brendan Sheehan (Yonkers), Thomas Silcott (Pop), Jayden Theophile (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies/Newsboy) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this show’s first preview! There was a tech hold 53 minutes into Act One that is cut out. Minor railing and head obstruction cut off a little bit of action, mostly worked around well. Increased wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBSJVa | ASKING $20 USD OFFERED AS A $30 BUNDLE WITH DECEMBER 18, 2024 NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JUNE 17, 2025

GYPSY December 18, 2024 (E) | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (11.16GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Audra McDonald (Rose), Danny Burstein (Herbie), Joy Woods (Louise), Jordan Tyson (June), Kevin Csolak (Tulsa), Lesli Margherita (Tessie Tura), Lili Thomas (Mazeppa), Mylinda Hull (Electra/Miss Cratchitt), Marley Lianne Gomes (Baby June), Jacob Ming-Trent (Uncle Jocko/Kringelein), Summer Rae Daney (Baby Louise), Jade Smith (Uncle Jocko Kid), Jace Bentley (Carmichael/Newsboy), Brandon Burks (Georgie), Hunter Capellán (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies), Tony d’Alelio (Little Rock), Kyleigh Vickers (Balloon Girl), Sasha Hutchings (s/w Edna), Jordan Wynn (s/w Geraldine), Brittney Johnson (Agnes), Zachary Daniel Jones (Angie), Ethan Joseph (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies), Andrew Kober (Mr. Goldstone/Cigar/Bourgeron-Cochon), Krystal Mackie (Thelma), James McMenamin (Weber/Pastey/Phil), Cole Newburg, Majo Rivero (Dolores), Sally Shaw (Marjorie May/Renée), Brendan Sheehan (Yonkers), Thomas Silcott (Pop), Jayden Theophile (Uncle Jocko’s Kiddies/Newsboy) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of the production’s final preview! The far right is a bit obstructed but worked around very well. Very minor head obstruction on the bottom that blocks very little. Some wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBVz94 | ASKING $20 USD OFFERED AS A $30 BUNDLE WITH NOVEMBER 21, 2024 NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JUNE 17, 2025

HAMILTON January 5, 2024 | Broadway | 4K MP4 (11.06GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Miguel Cervantes (Alexander Hamilton), Alysha Deslorieux (Eliza Hamilton), Jared Dixon (Aaron Burr), Jennie Harney-Fleming (Angelica Schuyler), Tamar Greene (George Washington), Kyle Scatliffe (Marquis de Lafayette/Thomas Jefferson), Ebrin R. Stanley (Hercules Mulligan/James Madison), Thayne Jasperson (u/s John Laurens/Philip Hamilton), Yana Perrault (Peggy Schuyler/Maria Reynolds), Jarrod Spector (King George III), Alexander Ferguson (James Reynolds/Philip Schuyler/Doctor), Roddy Kennedy (s/w Samuel Seabury), Adam Ali-Perez (s/w Charles Lee), Robert Walters (s/w George Eacker) Notes: Great 4K capture of Thayne as Laurens! Filmed between heads so there is obstruction on the far sides (mostly on the right) that is worked around well. Semi-frequent brief blackouts from the people in front leaning towards each other. Beginning of Act Two is VERY messy, doesn’t really get settled until Take A Break. Includes curtain call, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjB9o9v | ASKING $18 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL JUNE 17, 2025

[gnarskillediv]

The Dunblane Massacre

The "Deadliest Mass Shooting" in British History.

Date:

13th of March, 1996 (9:35-9:40) - The shooting lasted 5 minutes.

Perpetrator:

Thomas Watt Hamilton (TH) 10th Of May, 1952 - 13th Of March 1996, (43 years old). Born in Glasglow, Scotland.

Thomas Watt Hamilton front and centre, surrounded by his victims, in a news report a day after the massacre.

Weaponry:

Two 9mm Browning HP Pistols Two Smith And Wesson M19.357 Magnum Revolvers

Attack Types:

School Shooting Pedicide Mass Murder Murder-Suicide Mass Shooting

Location:

Dunblane Primary School, Stirling, Scotland.

A police officer walks on the grounds of the Dunblane Primary School, Scotland.

Victims:

Victoria Elizabeth Clydesdale; 5 Emma Elizabeth Crozier; 5 Abigail Joanne McLennan; 5 Mellissa Helen Curry; 5 Hannah Louise Scott; 5 Charlotte Louise Dunn; 5 Emily Morton; 5 Kevin Alan Hassle; 5 Megan Turner; 5 Ross William Irvine; 5 Sophie Jane Lockwood North; 5 David Charles Kerr; 5 Mhairi Isabel MacBeath; 5 John Petrie; 5 Gwen Mayor; 45 Brett McKinnon; 6 Joanna Caroline Ross; 5

“We saw a large number of dead and injured children when we arrived,” one first responder said at the time. “They were distributed within the room in various positions. The dead with the injured.”

Timeline

8:15am:

TH was seen shaving ice off his car on Kent Road, Stirling. He left soon after and drove 5 miles to Dunblane. From Kent Road to Dunblane Primary School, it would've taken 16-18 minutes, yet TH took 1 hour and 15 minutes to get there. He had much time to reconsider.

A police officer in the playground of Dunblane Primary School a day after the shooting.

9:30am:

TH intentionally parked his car near a telephone pole, getting out to sever the phone line connected to houses near the school. This was an attempt to make sure the police were delayed as long as possible.

Stuffed animals and bouquets lined the front of the school after the tragedy. “May God take better care of you than this world ever did,” read one of the messages.

9:30am-9:35am:

TH entered the school and headed toward the northwest side of the building, near the gymnasium and the toilets. He fired two shots into the assembly hall stage and into the girl's toilets, hitting nobody.

Meanwhile, in the gymnasium, a class of 29/28 students, along with Gwen Mayor; Teacher, Eileen Harrild; PE Teacher, and Mary Blake; Assistant Teacher, were in the middle of their PE lesson.

"This was an a day I shall not forget. As the newscaster read out the names of those small innocent and unknowing children my son's name - Ross Irvine - was included in that list. My Ross was born on 19th July 1989 and at the time of this awful catastrophe he looked liked any 7 year old,unkempt hair, food around his mouth and that stupid didn't know any different boyish grin. I loved him them and love him even more as he enters his 4th and final year at uni and looks forward to a career with Barclays Bank after a rigorous selection process. Ross Irvine- Dunblane-could have had the same opportunities as my Ross Irvine -but his demise has changed the future of everone else from there on. We, and my my Ross have a lot to thank Ross for. God bless." - Don Irvine, Ross Irvine's father.

9:35am-9:37am:

TH entered the gymnasium and fired immediately, shooting Gwen Mayor, and killing her. Eileen Harrild was shot in the arms and chest, stumbling into an open planned storage cupboard with four other children and Mary Blake, who was shot in the head and both legs.

At the same time, TH moved to the east of the gymnasium, firing six shots at the wall, and whilst walking, turned around and fired eight shots, possibly, at the west side, also. Striding back to the centre of the gym, he mercilessly fired 16 shots into injured children at point-blank range. Another 24 shots were fired in all directions of the gym, including the windows next to the fire exit, and the southeast, at a possible adult in the playground). 4 more shots were fired.

An adult and child heard the loud bangs and screams and went to check what was happening. They looked through the window, causing TH to fire towards them. The glass shattered and injured the child, though none of the two were seriously injured. TH exited the gym through the fire exit. He fired four shots into a library classroom, injuring Grace Tweddle, a member of staff, but not hitting any students inside.

Emma Crozier, who died aged five in the Dunblane Primary School shooting. Her family now advocates against gun violence, having spoken to the parents of some of the children afflicted by the Parkland Shooting.

9:38am-9:40am:

Inside a mobile classroom nearest to the fire exit, Catherine Gordon was teaching her class. She saw TH approaching, bravely shouting for all of her students to get down seconds before he fired 9 shots inside, hitting school equipment, a chair and some books. But no students.

TH turned tail and walked back to the gymnasium. He stood blankly, dropping one pistol and pulling out his revolver, placing the barrel at the back of his mouth, pointing upwards and shooting, killing himself.

Alison Ross’s sister Joanna was one of the 16 children who were murdered.

9:41am:

Assistant Headmistress, Agnes Awlson, alerted the Headmaster, Ronald Taylor, who called the police. He had heard the loud bangs and shots beforehand, saying he "assumed the noises were builders he had not been told about". He felt immeasurable guilt about the situation.

Ron Taylor is still “racked by guilt” 20 years later. “Evil visited us yesterday. We don’t know why.”

9:43am:

Ronald Taylor ran toward the gym, catching a view of what had happened, and told Fiona Eadington, Deputy Headmistress, to call the ambulance.

Charlotte Louise Dunn, "She was always talking about her little brother. And after she moved she wrote to me and would send me pictures of her new life in Scotland."

9:48am:

Stirling Royal Infirmary was informed of a major incident.

Some of the victims are pictured above, most likely the class that was in the gymnasium at the time of the shooting.

9:57am:

The first ambulance arrived at the scene.

“That is the one regret I have, I’d like her mother to have been with her when she died. I’d liked her to have had her mum. That’s an absolute betrayal.” Mhiari MacBeath's mother on the death of her daughter.

10:04am:

A medical team from Dunblane Health Centre arrived.

10:15am:

Stirling Royale Infirmary arrives on the scene.

ONE OF THE PICTURES RELEASED BY POLICE OF THE HOME OF MASS KILLER THOMAS HAMILTON.

10:35am:

Falkirk and District Royal Infirmary arrive, with Doune and Callender's medical teams arriving a few minutes earlier.

Tony Blair lays a wreath outside Dunblane Primary School whilst John Major comforts his wife Norma.

11:10am:

By this time, all injured were cleared and at the hospital.

Gwen Mayor is remembered as an “intelligent, elegant, vivacious and artistic” person.

Summary:

743 rounds of ammo in total. 106 shots were fired. 105 by the pistol. 1 by the revolver. 32 gunshot wounds, all between a three to four-minute time period, 16 of which were inside the gymnasium.

Children with injuries were taken to either the District Royal Infirmary or the Royal Hospital for Sick Children in Glasglow. One child died en route to the hospital.

TH wore shooting earmuffs, telling us that he was still relatively new to firing guns, as he was unused to the noise it generates.

[saintslewis]

“𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋” - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 & 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!reader x charles leclerc

summary: the angel or devil on your shoulders story has been around for centuries, everyone has their own without realising. yours want to help with your…desires after meeting you.

warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, slight smut (i tried) (18+ MDNI), sorry for the typos!

wc: 3.8k

saint’s team radio: y’all omg. this is a whole kinktober draft and it’s only being released rn? don’t judge 😔🖐🏽. wanna release six other works so let me know if you want those and pls enjoy this 🤭 btw, this is my baby so treat her nice!! thank you wifey @lorarri for this idea, love ya!!

dividers by: @cafekitsune

taglist: @thisismeracing @lorarri @httpsserene @non-stop-imagines @goldenalbon @goldsainz (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

kinktober with saint!

-

Tugging on the stranger's shirt, you whined into his mouth eagerly. His hold on your face was so strong as if he never wanted to let go of you, the two of you only meeting at a club a mere hour before.

His shoes were somehow off as he walked backwards towards the hotel bed, his knees hitting the edge of the bed and his hands eager to find the zipper on your little black dress. Your hands travelling up his shirt, feeling his skin under your soft hands. Yes it was odd that he had yet to put his hands anywhere other than your face, but you wanted him to take the lead. Finally taking a breath as he separated your swollen lips, your lip gloss smudged across his mouth. The stranger let go of your face and dug through his pockets, your hopes high thinking he would pull out protection for the rest of the night but your disappointment became present as he pulled out his phone.

"I have to pull out the playlist babe. You'll love it." The man said, his face all red and he bites his bottom lip as he went through his phone. "Oh shit, i have to make it. Give me a few,  baby."

And just like that, your arousal disappeared within a second. Leaning your weight onto one of your legs, you held onto the dangling purse that never moved from your shoulder. In all honesty, you had felt quite lightheaded with you immediately blaming it on the alcohol you had earlier on. As much as you were tipsy, you were still very alert and aware of your surroundings and your decisions. However, the slight touch you felt on your waist was enough to trip you up a little, you holding your arms out to balance yourself. Furrowing your eyebrows, you quickly looked behind you only to not see anything.

The tug on your mini dress was a bit stronger, a heavy touch landing on your waist as if it were to guide you to stand straight. The sound of your heels hitting the floor quite hard startled the man in front of you, making him look up at you and smirk then continue on his phone. 

The hair at the back of your neck now stood up, a smell similar to cologne wafting through the air and you knew for sure that it was neither you or him that smelled like this. As if all the liquor in your body disappeared, you took a deep breath and walked towards the man in front of you only to feel the back of your dress being pulled backwards.

"Come home." The soft yet deep voice whispered right into your ear, an accent present.

That was all it took for you to whip your body towards the hotel door, so ready to get out of there until you heard another voice in the other ear. "At least say goodbye, Y/n."  This time, the voice had a twinge of rasp in it with a more pronounced accent to it.

Your gasp was far too loud for him to not hear you. The air became quite still as you felt like people were standing next to you. "Are you okay? You've been looking a little crazy over there." The man who's name you've yet to know, laughed as if he was at a comedy show.

Staring daggers into his head, you chose to keep yourself calm then answer him. "I've just got a bit of a headache so I'm gonna go." You pursed your lips together, pointing at the door with your thumb. "What? We were having so much fun, baby." He audibly whined, stomping his foot a little.

Rolling your eyes so far, you turned around to leave the room, barely muttering your goodbyes to the confused man. Walking down the hallway, you ordered your uber and headed for the elevator with your thoughts running rampage at the ghostly feeling of the large hands on your waist.

Entering the metal box, you faced the mirror and played with your messy wig a bit just shaping it up. Looking down at your heels for a split second, you lifted your head once again only to see two men in there with you. The scream you let out was haunting but the men couldn't be more relaxed, rather smiling at your fear.

"Did you even like that guy, mon cheri?" The one on your left side asked with his arms crossed, your eyes making contact in the mirror. Your breathing became much faster and the goosebumps began rising on your exposed arms. "Tell the truth, love." The one on your right spoke up, his tatted arm flexed a little as he put his hand in his pocket. All you could do was shake your head, you didn't have the courage to respond verbally because you were slightly intimidated by their stares.

The lights from the elevator flickered a little as they stood up straight, showing their height to you. "We missed you while you were gone." The tatted one leaned his arm on your shoulder, smiling at you whilst chewing his gum and his sunglasses were so dark that you couldn't see through them.

"I still can't believe you were about to fuck that guy, not to mention we had to eat human food while watching you." The one wearing an oversized hoodie and jeans said in disgust, even rolling his eyes as he leaned onto the elevator railing.

"Be nice." Leaning on your shoulder just a bit more, his smile dropped as he turned his head to look at his counterpart with a warning tone in his voice.

"Huma- who are you guys and how long is this fucking ride going to take?" You pushed his arm off you, backing up whilst looking in between the two men. "Don't worry about that, mi belle. We'll see you at home." The green eyed man finally smiled at you and pointed for you to look at the other man.

"Turn around and be calm when you walk out there." You could tell that he was staring at you through his sunglasses, patting your waist and you listened. The moment you faced the large metal doors, the two were no longer there and you looked back and forth between the door and the mirror but you were the only one standing there.

"Okay girl, no more sativa milkshakes for you." You huffed a breath out as the doors opened to a large group of men clad in suits, talking about business related things as they entered. As you walked out, you pulled your tube dress lower but felt all types of eyes on you, one man even having the audacity to grab your wrist. Looking back at the old man in disgust to shrug your hand away, you spotted the green eyed man once again standing in the back of the elevator. All he did was wink at you as you managed to unhand yourself and walk out of the elevator and watched as the door closed.

Hurrying your way through the lobby, you heard loud screams from within the elevator, startling everyone in the lobby. Those screams were horrifying, sounds of hands banging on the doors as the elevator slowly lifted, the noises fading away as everyone stared at each other in horror.

Moments later, you finally settling in the uber and sitting quietly as the car zoomed through the city, the air conditioning cooling your burning skin. Your body felt tired from everything you just experienced, your energy drained from the incredibly long night you had.

The next morning, you woke up to a glass of water and a pill on your bedside. Thinking it was your insight into the next day, you silently thanked yourself for putting it there for yourself. Sitting on your couch whilst eating grapes, you turned on your tv with the news channel blaring out the latest breaking stories.

"One dead, several injured in elevator incident at Radisson Hotel. Some may find the following description unnerving so please be warned. Here we have one of the victims with us with a broken arm. Mr Osbourne." The news anchor announced and chills ran down your spine as your eyes were glued to the screen.

"It was insane! It was as if the devil himself was in that elevator with us! It was just me and the guys coming from a business meeting and when we got in, there was no one in there besides us but the minute the door closed, this Venom looking demon just showed up and just ripped Jason to threads! It said something in French then scratched a few of us before it left!" The distressed and traumatised man said into the mic, close to tears.

"C'est ce qu'il obtient en touchant notre fille." A familiar voice said from your kitchen, the same green eyed man from yesterday night smiled at the tv. "What the fuck!" You screeched as you threw your grapes to the side, startled by him once again.

"He said that's what he gets for touching you, sweetie." Your head snapped to your right, seeing the tatted guy as well with his arm stretched behind your head. "Also Charles, can we not scare her so much? I feel bad as it is." He said with his ring clad hand sitting pretty on his lap, his toned leg relaxed as if he's been here millions of times.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here? And how'd you spawn here like some fucking vampires?" You yelled, beginning to pace around your living room. The two just stared at you in amusement, their heads tilted with their eyes a bit low.

"Oh, wait till you meet Carlos and Lando. Their fangs are insane." Charles joked as the one who's name you've yet to learn just softly smiled. "Okay okay, to put you out of your misery, I'm Lewis and this is Charles. We're your angel and devil that help make your decisions." Lewis said.

Looking at the two men in horror, you shook your head a bit. "Am i still high? What the fuck is going on?" You muttered to yourself, holding your head in your hands. You couldn't bare to look at them, your brain had to be playing tricks on you.

"Okay, think about this. Remember that one bag you really wanted but you knew you wanted to save that money for something else?" Charles spoke, standing up to hold your shoulders in his large hands, stopping your pacing.

"My Diesel bag?" You asked and Lewis nodded. "That was all Charles. I tried to convince you to not do it but then I saw how excited you were about it so I let him take over." He smiled, his sunglasses off and his chocolate eyes glancing at you.

"...What?" Your shoulders dropped in defeat. "How am  I supposed to believe you guys? What if you actually just walked into my home and decided to play tricks on me?" You inquired, not wanting to look into both of their eyes.

"Whenever you decide to make a decision about anything, we're there. You're hungry, what do you wanna have?" Charles tilted your head toward his with his fingers, making you look into his emerald green eyes. "I don't know, maybe pizza but I've got some stuff in the fridge so I can have those." You mumbled. Ultimately deciding to just go into the fridge, Lewis was suddenly in front of you with the cutest little smile on his smile. Looking at the couch, Charles was sitting there watching you take quiet steps towards the kitchen.

Not wanting to take your eyes off of them, you manoeuvred through the kitchen to take out a frying pan. "What if I want to impulsively book a flight to New York?" and without a blink, Charles was next to you, leaning his arm against the kitchen counter with a little smirk. "Do you want to get a tattoo before you go? Maybe that belly piercing you were thinking of." He was so smug with his questions, making sure to keep eye contact with you to completely listen to him.

Feeling a presence next to you also leaning against the kitchen counter with his back, Lewis wasn't smiling as much and rather gave you a 'don't even think about it' look. "Or would you rather save up that money for buying yourself something nice?" The tattooed man tilted his head a bit with a similar smirk as Charles and you weren't going to lie and say that your knees didn't become weak under their stares.

"Something..nice..later on." You were truly lost for words. Things like this only ever existed in books or movies and usually it was never two alluring men staring you down as you said your final decision out loud. "Ah, mon cheri. I was hoping you'd choose my fun idea." Charles sounded disappointed but judging by his face, he was far from it.

There was nothing around you to ground yourself back down to earth so you chose to grip onto your pajama shorts, still stunned by the eye contact they managed to keep with you. "I can see you're still shocked at us being here so we'll come back soon. Is that okay with you, angel?" Lewis stood up straight, not moving his spot.

The nickname had your head spinning, here you were already struggling to figure out how you were going to sort out the ache in your lower regions and the nickname had set everything off but of course, you weren't going to ask for such help after you just met them.

"She's too cute, can't even answer your question. We'll be here but not in human form so anytime you want to see us, we'll be right there. Bye, mon ange." And the kiss that Charles left on your cheek felt like a fairy's kiss, so soft. All Lewis did was giving you a side hug, making sure you felt his hand on your waist. With that, they disappeared into thin air.

With Friday evening rolling in, it was safe to say you missed your boys. God, you thought it was crazy to even refer to them as that but you truly wanted to believe that they were there just for you. It also didn't help that your hormones were spiralling out of control throughout the week. The slightest hint of their colognes would waft through the air and you knew that they were there with you, like they said.

You couldn't tell your friends about this, knowing damn well that they would think you're making this up or that you're too caught up in your current read. The two men really captured you, thinking about them so intimately in your free time, remembering everything about their appearances for you to put them in your little daydreams and even going to sleep thinking of them.

Even the thought of them at the moment is making you clench your legs together, the all familiar ache between your thighs showing up once again. Determined to not think of the two entities tonight, you patted your eyelashes upwards and stood up to go take a look at your outfit in the mirror.

Quite similar to the dress you wore on your previous night out, you pulled it down a little and admired your outfit. The jewellery fitting so well with the newest edition being the anklet you bought earlier in the week.

"You look so pretty, mon ange." A voice said behind you, Charles manspreading on your bed with a slight tilt to his head, eyes looking at you through his glasses. He made your breath hitch and you couldn't believe that he was actually there.

"O-oh uh thank you, Charles." Once again, you didn't know what to do with your hands. Wiping your hands on your dress, you couldn't even look at his face but you just knew that once you did, you wouldn't look back.

He continued to smile at you, observing your every move, blinking ever so slowly. "You think we haven't heard how you've been calling for us every night?" Feeling hands on your waist, you turned around to see Lewis staring down at you with a glint in his eyes.

Your legs crossed each other in that moment, the arousal beginning to feel much stronger the more you looked at the both of them. Both of their voices lower than usual and that made you slightly nervous, this exact moment was the one you would daydream about. "You were there?" You asked, wanting desperately to hide your face away from their intense eyes.

The look Lewis gave you said everything you needed to know, his hand gliding to your lower back. Your breathing became lighter as he brought his hand to your chin, tilting your head upwards. You were slowly losing your mind as he continued to look into your eyes, an intense feeling radiating off of him.

“And to think that you were going to find yourself a random stranger to satisfy you when we’re the ones on your mind.” Charles tsked, still sitting and watching the scene in front of him.

As if he was right next to your ear, you heard every word he said and shuddered a bit, the energy shifted entirely. “Look how beautiful she is, Charles. Maybe we should just let her go to the club.” Lewis said with a smirk on his face, one you wish you could wipe off. He slowly let go of your face and body, feeling the warmth of his hands fade away as he went to sit next to Charles, manspreading as well.

“You’re right, Lewis. She got all ready for it and she has to go meet other people who’ll try to hear those sweet sounds.” Charles teased, not moving from his position. The two entities shared a look then right back at you.

You could only shake your head, the arousal pooling in your underwear and the heat at your core was calling for one of them to do something, anything. They watched you as if you were prey and their little smirks became more and more annoying as the seconds passed by. “Aw sweetie, you can’t even stand still. You have to tell us what you want if you want us to help.” Lewis now tilted his head and looked you up and down as he watched you try your best to stand still with crossed legs.

Hands touched your waist, pushing you forward towards the angel’s open legs. “Mon amour, your mind is not clear. If you want us, just say so. You know we’re all yours.” Charles said, moving your hair away from your neck to plant his lips on there, immediately groaning as your sweet perfume invaded his nose.

Lewis looked up at you as you stood before him, the smirk still present. He sat up and placed his hand on your leg, gently stroking your soft skin as your eyes were glued to his. You wanted him to stand up but the words couldn’t come out of your mouth however he stood up, listening to your instructions.

You reached your manicured hand up Lewis’ broad chest, feeling the soft fabric of his top only to reach the plethora of chains and pearls on his tattooed neck. Hooking your pointer finger onto his jewellery, you pulled him down to connect your lips together.

The kiss felt magical, your lips moulding together as you felt his smile whilst his teeth bit down on your lower lip before letting go, your lip gloss barely transferring onto his face. Feeling a hand on your neck guiding your head to rest your head on their shoulder, Charles looked at you and simply pecked your lips, the look in his eyes very telling as your back touched his front.

You slightly whimpered, not wanting to make a sound to ruin the moment. “I need to hear you, princess. Make all the noise you want.” Lewis muttered as he took to the floor and kneeled in front of you, the scene making you audibly moan. Slowly undressing you from your shoes to the stockings, the angel reached for your leg to place it on his shoulder but you stopped him before he could.

“What’s wrong, mom ange? You want to stop?” Charles asked, worry laced in his voice as he halted his kissing on your neck. “No, I just wanna…sit on your face.” You whispered, hoping that Lewis heard you clearly.

“Say it louder, darling.” He said, still on his knees as the sultry gaze made you even more wet. You quietly whined, not wanting to repeat the words. “Oh? Ma Cherie, you don’t want to speak?” Charles’ hand moved to grab your ass, making you whimper once again. Lewis did not once break eye contact with you, his large hand going up and down your thigh as he got closer and closer to your core. “I wanna sit on your face.” You said a little louder with a little roll of the eyes.

Standing up then laying on his back, Lewis spoke as he watched Charles guide you onto his lap with you crawling your way to his face, only reaching to his abdomen with both legs on either side.

Lewis planted his hands onto your thighs, bringing you even closer to his face, your dripping core eventually right above his mouth as he admired your pussy. “We’ll sort out that attitude but for now, let me make our princess happy.” He said, pushing you by your hips to fully sit on his mouth with his tongue lapping your folds.

“Mon amour, keep your eyes on me.” Charles said, standing in front of you as he watched you crumble as your moans struggled to come out. The devil leaned forward to unzip your top, your breasts falling freely and he immediately placed his mouth on your left nipple, kissing it with such care.

Your moans became louder as both men satisfied you until the sun rose, never leaving your side as you reached your orgasms at least 10 times leaving your body exhausted yet utterly pleasured. Experiencing heaven and hell with them was to become the norm for you.

-