So We Can All Agree That We Find Clark Kent "I Need Him Ferally" Attractive Right Whereas Superman Is

I cannot believe there are actually people who have the audacity to call themselves “fans” of Formula 1 and then turn around and rationalize drivers having to get bodyguards because of death threats

I am sick to my stomach seeing these so-called “fans” with large platforms say that it is deserved because of things that happened on the track

I don’t care how poor of a team-player you think a driver is or how many of their racing decisions you disagree with … there is never an excuse for this kind of disgusting behavior

It is horrifying how some “fans” willfully choose to dehumanize drivers that they dislike instead of realizing that they are human beings too

Privacy || PG10

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x fem!reader, Kika x fem!reader Warnings: angst, cheating, wlw WC: ~700 F1 Masterlist

You were his. He had promised it over and over, time and time again. You were only his. He didn’t want to share you, not with anyone. Privacy - that was the foundation of your relationship. Everything was kept private, so he could keep you safe.

Or so he said...

You could still see the notification when you closed your eyes. The WhatsApp message that mysteriously disappeared before you could read it, just like all the rest. You could feel the ice spreading down your spine at the lie.

It was just a group message, just one of the guys on the grid. He said it as if you didn’t know the name of every driver.

“I’ll be back before you wake, you won’t even notice I’m gone,” he promised as he stepped out of the bedroom in a white linen shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You had taken time off work to spend the summer break with him but he couldn’t seem to go one night without attending a party at some club you couldn’t even pronounce.

You placed your phone on the coffee table and nodded your head like a good girlfriend should, just as he expected. “Be safe. Have fun.”

“Yeah, course.” He could barely hide his smile as he replied to a message on his phone, completely distracted as you did the same. “Love you.”

“You too.”

The club was full by the time you made it inside, unable to skip the long queue because you were just another pretty face, not one of the influencers or sports stars that frequented the place. There were hundreds of people but it was impossible to miss Mr Personality in the crowd, his smile wide as his arm curled around the model’s narrow waist.

The anonymity that came with the ‘private’ relationship worked in your favour as you made your way through the people. A few men took notice of your hips swaying with each step, but that was nothing new. Pierre had called you his ‘petal’, beautiful and in need of protecting.

“Hi,” you greeted your boyfriend when you reached the ring of strangers surrounding him. He dropped his arm from the model’s body and tore his lips away from her neck with wide-eyes. “Oh, don’t stop on my account, Kika is very beautiful.”

“It’s not what it looks like-”

“Of course not, it was totally innocent,” you interrupted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“No need to be a bitch.” You could smell the alcohol on his breath and see his eyes dilated with the thoughts he had of finishing what he started with the younger woman. He had been talking to her for weeks, waiting for their trip to align so he could do more than just slide into her DMs.

You watched his hand disappear behind her back and she bit her lip as he palmed her ass. “It’s time to make a decision,” you said as you crossed your arms. “Are you going to come home with me?”

Pierre looked between you and Kika, his eyes dropped from her face to her tits before flicking back to you. “I’m good here.”

“Let’s go, love,” you said as you held your hand out, making Pierre laugh.

His laughter died when Kika stepped away from him, taking your hand and curling her body into your side. The devilish look in her siren eyes had you combing your fingers into her dark hair as she gripped the tight dress you wore and pulled you closer. Her lips tasted of strawberry from her daiquiri and the essence of the rum was stronger on her tongue when she deepened the kiss.

“What the fuck?” Pierre growled as he pulled you apart to see her lipstick smeared on your smirking lips.

“You’re not the only one in my DMs,” Kika teased as cleaned her lipstick from your face with a promising look. “Isn’t that right, my petal?”

“Petal?” His face was falling with each passing second, devastation at his actions being realised the longer he looked at you. He knew he was losing you. “Baby, wait, we can talk about this.”

“You made your bed, Pierre,” you said as you shook your head and curled your arm around Kika like he had earlier. “Now sleep alone in it.”

it probably feels good as fuck to freak out and scream really loud and break shit

grown up (pg10)

pierre x leclerc!reader , slight lando x leclerc!reader

summary: you’ve always had a crush on your older brother’s best friend, little do you know he’s crazy about you too

notes: !! contains smut, minors dni !! this trope is too good to not do with pierre, there’s a tiny age gap here (3 years) also i kept pierre in alpha tauri

warnings: mentions of cheating, mentions of physical violence (not against reader), smut, fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral (f receiving)

Pierre Gasly was a forbidden fruit. As kids he was constantly attached at the hip to your older brother Charles, the two became partners in crime whilst karting together, and had stayed thick as thieves even in Formula One.

You practically watched each other grow up. You were in the stands as he made his way through karting all the way up to Formula One, driving for Toro Rosso, then Red Bull, and now Alpha Tauri.

He was always there with your brother for special events. He watched as you not only got older, but as you matured. He watched as you grew into your figure, curves appearing in all the right places. What was once a little kid, constantly chasing her brother around had turned into a beautiful woman, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Especially not with your overprotective brother keeping you close.

It seemed Charles had also noticed that you’d grown up, or at least noticed all of the new male attention you’ve acquired. He keeps an arm over your shoulders in the paddock, sending a glare to any guys who would give you a once over.

As hard as he tried though, he couldn’t stop you from dating the few guys that had caught your attention as well. Pierre remembers them all.

The first was clearly looking for something casual, the relationship ending with you crying on Charles’ shoulder.

The next was one that ended up cheating on you. You had to make Charles promise that he wasn’t going to try to fight him, but you didn’t have any control over Pierre. You asked him about the bruises on his knuckles when you saw him next, holding his hands in yours and inspecting the damaged skin. He wouldn’t tell a soul but he felt his heart stutter as you held his larger, rougher hands in your small soft ones. When he came out of his you-induced trance, he just shrugged claiming the bruises were from training.

You had actually thought it was going to work out with the most recent one. He was sweet, he was loyal, the only issue was he was going off to university while you were traveling with Charles. The long distance made it difficult, the two of you had a mutual break up because of it.

Pierre hated that he had to watch you date all of these guys that just seemed either incompatible with you or just took advantage of you. Or both. And he was forced to watch from the sidelines.

It was time for the Monaco Grand Prix, which meant that it was the one time of year you didn’t have to travel anywhere. Charles had opted to forgo the hotel that was offered, instead choosing to stay home with you. He invited Pierre to stay with the two of you as well, offering his best friend the spare guest room.

It was strange having Pierre so close to you at first. You would bump into him on your way to the bathroom, make your breakfast together in the kitchen, share a car to and from the track. You quickly became used to having his presence around though, enjoying the shared breakfasts, and midnight chats in the kitchen.

The race had ended with both boys in the points, though neither on the podium. You all went out to celebrate though, the three of you and most of the other drivers with their girlfriends.

Pierre spent the night watching you from afar, dancing with Lily, then with Carmen, then back to Lily. The drink in your hand sloshing around in the glass as you danced. He was happy to watch you dance with the girls, a bright smile on your face as you twirled around with them. It wasn’t until he saw Lando reach for you that he started to feel uncomfortable.

Lando was behind you, his hands on your hips, far too close for Pierre’s liking. It was then that he came to the conclusion that your dress was far too short. It showed too much of your legs. And the neckline was far too low, giving Lando a perfect view of your chest over your shoulder.

Your hand reached up behind you to tangle itself in Lando’s curls, and Pierre thought he might actually commit a crime.

He glances over at Charles who seems distracted, busy conversing or more so listening to Max. When he turns back to look at you, you’ve turned around, now facing Lando as you dance together.

Your hands are pressed against his chest while his are resting on your hips. Your foreheads are pressed together. You catch Lando’s eyes glancing down at your lips. He leans forward, and you let him, closing your eyes.

You can feel his lips brush against yours when you’re suddenly pulled away from him. Pierre’s got a hand on your arm, and a scowl on his face as he practically glares at Lando.

“We’re going home.” He says, before pulling you to the exit, his hand slips down to grasp yours.

“What about Charles?” You ask as you weave through groups of people in an attempt to keep up with Pierre’s quick steps.

“I told him you weren’t feeling well.” He answers, still pulling you along to his car outside.

The ride back to yours and Charles’ Monaco apartment is quiet. Pierre’s got a tight grip on the steering wheel as he keeps his eyes locked ahead. You pout quietly in the passenger seat, occasionally sparing a glance at the Frenchman beside you.

You follow him back upstairs to the apartment where he waits for you to unlock the door. Once inside he brushes past you and throws his coat on the couch. He walks to the kitchen and grabs a bottle of water pushing it into your hands.

“Drink it.” He says, pulling one out for himself as well.

“I’m not drunk.” You quietly tell him as you unscrew the cap.

He scoffs. “You were drunk enough to think that grinding against Lando was a good idea.”

A smirk grows on your face. You take slow steps towards him. “Are you jealous Pierre?”

“Why would I be jealous? You’re just a kid.” He’s quick to snap.

His answer strikes a nerve, but you persist. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Lando is closer to may age. Just a year younger than me. Maybe I should give him a call, finish what we started.”

His lips are on yours within a second. The kiss is hungry, fueled with fire and the need to finally express the feelings you’ve both had for so long. He pushes you up against the kitchen counter, slotting a leg between yours.

You whimper into the kiss as his leg pushes against your center, your dress sliding up and revealing more skin to him.

Your hands find his hair as his find the bottom of your dress. His fingers trail up your legs to toy with the waistband of your panties.

“Bedroom.” You manage to breathe out in between kisses.

He lifts you up by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist and walks you both to your bedroom. You can feel the tent growing in his pants as he pushes himself against you.

He kicks the door shut behind him, and drops you on your bed. Clothes are torn off the two of you, thrown to different corners of the room until you’re both just in your underwear.

He dives down to kiss you again, laying between your legs. One of his hands strokes the skin of your thigh, pulling it around him.

You continue to kiss each other, your tongues seemingly dance with each other as he softly starts to thrust his hips against yours. His kisses travel down your neck to your collarbone. He reaches a hand behind you and unlatches your bra, throwing it somewhere behind him.

He brushes a hand over one of your breasts, his fingers softly grazing your nipple. He leans down to kiss along your chest, his teeth marking up your skin as he goes.

“You’ve grown up quite a bit, huh?” He murmurs as he pays equal attention to both breasts.

“I’m not a little kid Pierre.” You roll your eyes at him, but let out a soft moan as he lets his teeth bite softly at one of your nipples.

“That’s for sure.” He says, continuing his journey down your body.

Once again his fingers fiddle with the waistband of your panties. He uses his arms to spread your legs for him, giving him a perfect view of the wet patch that’s grown on your underwear.

“So wet for me chéri?” He presses his fingers against the wet fabric, teasing you through your underwear.

“Should we talk about the tent you’ve got?” You lightly kick his back.

He laughs and shakes his head. “Alright, alright.” His hands move back to the top of your underwear but pause. He looks back up at your face. “Are you sure you want this?”

You do want this, you know you want this. But part of you can’t help but think of your brother, or Pierre’s best friend. This could make things messy for everyone, that is if Charles doesn’t murder Pierre.

You look back down at the man between your legs. Sincerity swims around in the green eyes that stare back at you. You know he’ll back off if you tell him no. That this can all fade away, never to be mentioned again. Or you can grab onto this moment and not let it go, throw caution to the wind.

You nod and give him a soft smile. “I’m sure.”

He returns his own smile, then slowly peels your panties off of you. He tosses them near the pile of his clothes. “I’m keeping those.” He gives your thigh a kiss.

You let out a sigh as his fingers stroke your folds. The sigh turns into a whimper when he lightly taps against your clit.

“So sensitive ma chéri.” He smirks.

He slowly pushes his middle finger into you, pressing against your walls. Your thighs tighten around him as he works his finger in and out of you, then adds another.

You moan out his name as he starts to press against the spongey spot inside you.

“God, I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He climbs back up your body to kiss you again, stealing your moans from your mouth.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to your climax. You push against his chest so he’s looking at you.

“Pierre, I need you inside me.”

He pulls his fingers out of you and raises them to his mouth, sucking your wetness off of them.

“You taste so good chéri.” He practically moans.

You reach out to pull his boxers down. His cock slaps his abdomen as he kicks his underwear away.

You can see the bead of precum that’s gathered on his tip. You spread it over him with a finger, then pump his cock a few times.

Pierre’s eyes roll to the back of his head. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.” He groans.

You lay back down, pulling him down with you. He looks down between the two of you and holds his cock at your entrance. He looks back up at you, silently asking one more time if you’re sure you want this with him. You nod and wrap your arms around his neck.

He notches the head of his cock in you, then slowly pushes himself in. You take a few deep breathes, closing your eyes.

The stretch to fit him is a lot. It didn’t hurt, but his size was more than you were used to accommodating.

When he finally bottoms out, he pauses, giving you a moment. He rests his forehead against yours, pressing soft kisses against your face as you get used to his size.

“You can move.” You murmur.

He pulls himself away then pushes himself back in, creating a rhythm for the two of you.

He’s going slow, too slow. You wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him deeper inside you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, and so warm.” He moans, his head falling down to your shoulder as his thrusts speed up.

He nips at your shoulder, his teeth creating small dents in the skin.

As his thrusts speed up you can feel him get deeper and deeper until the head of his cock hits the perfect place inside you. You yelp as you clench around him even tighter.

“You feel so good Pierre. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” You moan.

He reaches a hand down between you to rub at your clit, quickly sending you over the edge.

Your release triggers his, his cum coating your walls as he drags your orgasms out.

You’re both breathing heavily when you’re finished, clinging onto each other like a lifeline. You unwrap your legs from around him, the muscles tense from your activities.

He softly pulls out of you, causing you to whimper at the now empty feeling between your legs. His cock is soft now, the base coated in a creamy looking white substance, a mix of your releases.

He get up off the bed and goes to your bathroom, when he returns he’s holding a wash cloth in his hand. He cleans you up, apologizing when you wince from the sensitivity.

He goes back to the bathroom to dispose of the wash cloth, then comes back and gets back in bed with you.

He pulls you to his chest and sighs, staring up at your ceiling. Your fingers fiddle with his as you lay in silence.

You sigh. “We’re going to have to talk about this.” You break the silence.

“I know.” He says, pulling you closer to him. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Right now I just want to enjoy holding you in my arms.”

It doesn’t take long for the both of you to fall asleep, letting the worries of your relationship status fade away for the night.

When you wake up Pierre’s got a tight hold on you. His face is buried in your neck, his arms locked around your torso.

You watch as he sleeps, his soft snores coming out in rhythmic beats. You lift a hand to softly run through his hair, the golden brown strands are soft between your fingers. Your hand traces down his face, over his cheekbone, then to his lips.

His breath hitches as his eyes flutter open. A lazy smile grows on his face as he looks at you.

“Good morning ma chéri.” His voice is deep with sleep.

“Good morning Pierre.” You smile.

As much as you want to bask in the energy of an early morning cuddle session with Pierre, you know you need to talk about last night, about what last night means to you now.

“So…” You trail off.

“So?” He asks, nudging your jaw with his nose, clearly looking for some affection from you.

“So, are we going to talk about last night?” You’re scared of what he’ll say, but you know this is a discussion you need to have.

“Last night was fun.”

Your heart drops. Last night was fun? That’s all he has to say?

“Pierre-”

“I meant what I said. About wanting to do that for so long.” He kisses down your neck, his eyes finding the light purple marks he left along your skin the previous night.

You lift his chin so he’s looking into your eyes again.

“Was that just a one time thing? Because I don’t think I can do this if it was Pierre. I’ve had feelings for you for a long time, but I don’t want to give you my heart if you’re just going to break it.”

His eyebrows furrow. How could you possibly think he would break your heart?

“No mon amour, no.” He cups your face in his hands. “I have been in love with you since we were kids, since Charles introduced us. I know that it’s going to be hard working this out with your brother, but I’d like to, if you’ll have me.”

You grin, rolling on top of him and cover his faces in kisses.

You moment of joy is cut short when you hear a knocking on your door.

“Y/n?” Charles’ voice calls from the other side.

The door starts to open as you roughly push Pierre under your bedsheets.

“I’m changing!” You shout at your brother.

Charles freezes, leaving the door only cracked open.

Pierre sighs, running his hand up and down your leg. An idea comes to him, an evil, risky idea. He crawls further down, and throws your legs over his shoulders. He licks a long stripe through your folds, grinning when he hears you gasp and feels a hand grip his hair.

“Pierre said you weren’t feeling well, how are you feeling now?” Charles asks through the door.

Your eyes roll back as Pierre sucks your clit into his mouth, toying with the little bundle of nerves.

“Y/n?”

“Good! Good, I feel good.” You hope your words don’t sound like a moan.

“Alright, well I’m going to go get some breakfast, would you like to join me?” Charles asks.

“No, no. You go. I’ll stay.” You manage to get out.

“Okay, I’ll see you later.” He closes your door again, you can hear his footsteps disappear in the apartment.

You give Pierre’s back a harsh kick, to which he groans, then crawls up out from under the sheets.

“That hurt!” He groans.

“Well I don’t think eating me out in front of my brother is a good way to get him onboard with our relationship.” You scoff.

“So we’re in a relationship now? Officially? You’re asking me to be your boyfriend?” He smirks, wrapping himself around you again.

“I hate you.” You say, but you can’t stop the smile from spreading on your face.

“I love you too.”

Thunderbolts* movie gonna start out with Bucky on the phone watching shit go down and being like "Yeah, I'm gonna have to call you back." Not revealing who he was on the phone with.

The movie plot happens, then with the final end scene Bucky finally gets his phone back out and makes a call and it's like:

"Hey, babe, sorry about that. Shit got crazy."

No response, explosions, gunshots, screaming in the background.

"Sam?"

*Sam's voice, maybe even a cut to him instead of just phone call* "We're gonna need some help! It's fucking Doomsday over here!"

Marvel theme song. Roll credits.

—the mark of athena

—the chalice of the gods

We’ve Got Tonight || LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x singer!reader Summary: When you catch your boyfriend cheating you get your sweet revenge and a handsome stranger who steps in to protect you. Warnings: being cheated on, angst, injury

Songs: Shania Twain - Man! I feel like a woman Garth Brooks - Friends in low places Carrie Underwood - Before he cheats Kenny Rogers & Sheena Easton - We’ve got tonight

Lando couldn’t believe he had let Daniel drag him out to the Texan bar. It was completely polar opposite to anything he was used to, but Danny fit right in with his Stetson hat and cowboy boots. 

Lando winced into his glass as the latest woman to take the corner stage butchered a Shania Twain song but it didn’t seem to bother his drinking buddy as he left to join the rows of people line dancing. Lando was grateful when the song came to an end but it was short lived as he heard a familiar Australian accent on the mic talking the band into playing Friends in Low Places. Spinning around on his stool at the bar, the McLaren driver found his old teammate on the small stage grinning like a fool as the music started. 

Lando watched the older driver and envied the confidence he had to sing terribly to a bar full of strangers. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t hold a note or match the key - Daniel had presence and was always entertaining. The song was almost over when a change of light caught Lando’s eye and he swivelled back to see the saloon doors swing shut behind you. 

Lando nearly fell off his chair. The sight of your smile was dazzling and he swore the colours in the room were brighter because of it. He hardly remembered to breathe as you cast your eyes around the bar, searching for something he suddenly hoped he had. Disappointment landed heavy on his chest as your pretty eyes settled on the pool tables and he wondered which one of the handsome men was lucky enough to have you. 

He started to turn away and wash the bitter taste of jealousy from his mouth with his drink when he saw the smile dim. It was like a cloud had come and blocked the sun, shadows curving your lips down until they pressed to a hard line and your eyes narrowed on a man. Lando swallowed at the change thinking you was even more beautiful, like lightning in a thunderstorm. Beautiful, dangerous, deadly.

Then you were gone, the tassels on your boots swaying quickly as you disappeared out the door as quickly as you came. 

“Whatcha looking for?” Daniel asked as he dropped back into his seat. Lando hadn’t even noticed the song had ended while he watched the empty space in the doorway, another singer taking the stage. 

“N-nothing,” he stammered quickly as he turned back to the bar and raised his glass to his dry lips. 

“Whatever you say, mate,” Daniel chuckled as he clapped Lando on the back. “She was hot though, right?” 

Lando coughed and sputtered on his drink as Daniel laughed knowingly. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, but I’m not blind. And since you’re single, you should get off your ass and lasso yourself a lady friend. You know what they say: save a horse, ride a cowgir-” Lando clamped a hand over Daniel’s mouth as his cheeks turned pink. 

“You can’t say that, dude! You are totally going to get cancelled one day.”

Daniel shrugged and sent him a lopsided grin as he looked over Lando’s shoulder. “Looks like it’s  your lucky day.”

—

White hot rage left your hands shaking as you dropped the baseball bat and walked away, the metal clanking loudly on the asphalt of the parking lot. You didn’t even notice the trickle of blood running down your fingertips from cutting your palm with Damon’s hunting knife when you slashed the tyres of his Ford Raptor. You couldn’t feel anything except the burning need for revenge.

All the joy you had felt on the drive to the bar had been forgotten. The phone call with the news seemed like a lifetime ago and you hated him all the more for ruining what should have been the best day of your life so far.

After years of hard work you were finally catching a break and had been signed to Big Loud and would soon be recording your own country music. You had been so excited you had left work early and driven across town to surprise Damon. What a surprise he would get.

You looked ahead at the bar you had left, still seeing the way he curled himself around her, the pretense of pretending to teach her how to play pool - the same trick he had used to get close to you the night you met. Rotten bastard. It made you question the last two years together and how many other women he pulled the same moves on. You were going to teach him a lesson, and maybe save her from the same fate.

You swaggered into the bar and felt eyes on you, but the only pair that didn’t turn were his. Damon was too enraptured by the woman dancing against him, a dainty cocktail spilling over her glass. 

“Mind if I butt in next, Jimmy?” you asked the old man who loved to sing a bit of Kenny Rogers after a few drafts of beer. 

“Not at all, pumpkin, been a while since you joined us.” The song was just finishing and Jimmy jutted his chin at Damon as he poured two shots of whiskey, offering one to you. “Say, ain’t that your old man?”

“Not any more.” You downed the shot and inhaled the burn before taking the stage and telling the band what to play. 

—

Lando stepped off his stool as the song started and his feet carried him closer to the stage with Daniel right at his side, not that he noticed. You hadn’t even parted your lips but he knew, somehow he just knew, you would sound perfect. The song was one he recognised, maybe from a movie or just on the radio, but it hit differently when he saw your eyes boring holes into the couple still dancing together by the pool tables. 

Right now, he's probably slow dancin' with a bleach-blonde tramp and she's probably gettin' frisky. Right now, he's probably buyin' her some fruity little drink 'cause she can't shoot whiskey. Right now, he's probably up behind her with a pool stick showin' her how to shoot a combo. And he don't know…

Lando couldn’t breathe as he watched the realisation dawn on the stranger who looked up from the blonde woman he had been grinding on. The man’s jaw went slack and he half shoved the woman from his lap as he straightened up, a small shake of his head when he met the eyes on the stage. He could almost hear the whispered ‘oh no’ fall from his lips and he felt a smug satisfaction on your behalf. 

I dug my key into the side of his pretty little souped-up four-wheel drive. Carved my name into his leather seats. I took a Louisville slugger to both headlights. Slashed a hole in all four tires. Maybe next time, he'll think before he cheats.

Your smile was dark and you watched Damon blanch at the sight, only making you feel even better for what you had done.

I might've saved a little trouble for the next girl, 'cause the next time that he cheats, Oh, you know it won't be on me. No, not on me.

“No, no, baby, no,” Damon whined as he tugged the short strands of his hair and rushed out of the bar, leaving his date in a state of confusion until her brain caught up and her hands shot to cover her mouth in shock. 

“Yeah, he played us both, honey,” you said as you shoved the mic back in the stand and crossed your arms as the doors burst open.

“You crazy bitch!” Damon tried to rush the stage only to find himself shoved back by a handsome stranger who was apparently a lot stronger than he looked. “Get the fuck out of my way!”

“Not gonna happen, mate,” he said with a chuckle, his British accent sweet on the ears. “I think you’ve done enough, don’t you?”

“She ruined my fucking truck! Do you know how much that cost?”

You scoffed and stepped up behind the stranger, feeling bolder as you saw his arms flex ready to protect you. “Too much, but I guess you had to overcompensate for something small,” you said as your eyes darted to his trousers and the taller companion barely contained his laugh.

“Oh, I like this one, Lando. She’s got fire.”

“Just give me my house key and leave, it’s over.” You held out your palm waiting until he fisted his keys from his pocket and cursed your name as he pulled it off the keyring. 

“Where the fuck am I meant to live?”

You looked over at the woman and asked, “Do you want to take him home, honey?” She shook her head now that she knew he was a no good cheater and your smile widened as you turned back to Damon. “You’ll be nice and cozy in your pickup.”

He stepped forward but Lando’s friend joined him shoulder to shoulder and Damon quickly realised he was not going to win whatever went down. With his tail between his legs, he turned and grumbled his way out the door before the band started up and Jimmy kicked off with We’ve Got Tonight. 

“I don’t know how to thank you,” you said as the two strangers finally deemed it safe to turn their backs on the door and face you. A pair of stormy blue eyes met yours and you blinked twice before you managed to look away, scanning a quick glance over the messy styled curls on his head to the slim black t-shirt that fitted perfectly. Your lips dried as you realised you were staring and he cleared his throat when he caught himself doing the same. 

“Can I buy you a drink?”

You bit your lip at the offer and tipped your head to the side. “I think I should be the one buying you a drink, your friend too. It’s the least I can do.”

“Daniel,” the taller man said with a grin and held his hand out to shake.

“Y/N.”

“Enchanté.”

“Uh, bless you.”

Lando laughed and the sound brought a smile to your face. “I know how you can thank me,” he said as he nodded to Jimmy who was grabbing a second microphone and pointing it your way. “I’m fairly sure this song is a duet. Know it?”

You smirked as you stepped back and gave him a wink before taking the stage, his eyes never leaving yours and you sang just for him.

We've got tonight, Who needs tomorrow? Let's make it last, Let's find a way Turn out the light, Come take my hand now We've got tonight, babe, Why don't we stay?

His nod was almost imperceptible and you weren’t sure if you imagined it as you let the question hang in the air while the music faded out. In two long, self-certain steps, he closed the distance and offered his hand to help you down the steps and you grinned at the warmth of his palm as he laced your fingers with his.

Suddenly he froze and looked down, concern etching his features as he pulled his hand back and found it stained red. “Fuck, you’re hurt.”

You blinked at the cut on your palm, only noticing the ache after your attention was drawn to it. “Huh, guess that’s what I get for slashing his tyres,” you murmured with a weak laugh.

“He deserved more than that,” Lando growled as he led you to the bar and asked for a first aid kit. “But he definitely didn’t deserve you.”

“You don’t know me, I could be a terrible person.” You winced as he cleaned the cut before pressing a bandage to stem the bleeding.

“I’m a pretty good judge of character, Y/N.” He pinned the bandage into place before lifting your hand to his lips and kissing the top softly. “I knew it from your smile when you arrived, and everything after just proves you’re strong.”

Your chin dipped as you felt your face flush and you couldn’t remember the last time someone was so sweet. “You really know how to make a girl feel special. So how long are you in town for?”

His lips turned down slightly as he sighed and reluctantly admitted. “We fly back to London tomorrow.”

You felt the same disappointment but chased it away and squeezed his hand that still held yours, your eyes meeting with the same idea flitting past. “We’ve got tonight?”

His smile returned and grew until his eyes wrinkled with how wide it was, brightening up his whole face and sparking yours to match. “Yeah, we’ve got tonight.”

Oh ! For the Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP, would you be willing to write about number 2 Royal AU, with number 98 curses for lestappen please 🙏

listen i was thinking about different curse ideas and then i suddenly remembered charles's monac curse and well... then i couldn't not write that. so!!!! driver!charles/prince!max au it is :)

prompt taken from this list, feel free to send me one!

royal au + curses

When you ask a driver what the best race to win is, they will give one of two answers; either their home Grand Prix, or Monaco. For Charles, these have always been one and the same.

And yet, he has never won.

A curse, they call it. Just dumb luck, Charles like to say.

But it still weighs on him, every year he DNF’s, every year he crashes into the barriers instead of crossing the finish line. At least he’s managed to do at least that, last year, in 2022. But this year, this year he’s determined.

He’s going to break the curse. He’s going to win.

He’s so laser focused, so all in, that he misses all the whispers around the paddock about important visitors until he slams head first into one of those visitors outside of the Ferrari motor home.

“I am so sorry,” says none other than Max Emilian, crown prince of the Netherlands.

“Oh,” Charles says, because well. He’s seen pictures of the man before, but it turns out they really don’t do him justice. Prince Max is gorgeous, with piercing blue eyes and broad shoulders and a very, very kissable mouth. “I mean, uh, I’m sorry. Your, uh, highness?”

Max laughs, the hand he used to steady Charles still on his shoulder, burning into Charles’s skin. “Please. Call me Max.”

“Right,” Charles says, nodding a little too enthusiastically. “Right, yeah Max. I can do that.”

Max sends him an amused look. “So, are you looking forward to the race?” He asks, and his hand slips off Charles’s shoulder. Charles immediately misses its warmth.

He pulls a face. “Sort of? I’ve not had the best luck in Monaco.”

“Ah, yes,” Max says, thoughtful look on his face. “The curse.” When Charles doesn’t say anything, just pulls a face, Max continues. “But you shouldn’t be worried. You’ve been driving well all season. Plus, you have pole. That’s already half the race.”

“You follow F1?” Charles asks, a little surprised. There something about Max, beyond the pretty eyes and the nice body, that is almost regal. Ethereal. It feels weird to picture him sitting on a couch in his sweatpants and a sweatshirt on Sunday’s, watching a race.

“Obsessed with it,” Max admits, almost a bit sheepish. “Begged my dad to let me drive kart when I was a kid. But apparently that wasn’t very appropriate, so,” He rubs the back of his neck, and gives Charles a ‘what can you do’ look. “Anyway, I like watching races a lot. The fast cars, the pretty boys,” He leans forward a little, and there’s suddenly an almost mischievous smile on his face, like he’s challenging Charles.

Charles blinks. Opens his mouth. Closes it. If he knew better, he’d say the crown prince of the Netherlands is currently flirting with him. But he knows better so that can’t be it. Right? Still. Can’t hurt to try. “Pretty boys, huh?” Charles says leaning back against the wall of the motorhome. “And do you have a favorite?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Max eyes are twinkling, and he’s leaning forward, his arm suddenly right next to Charles’s head, his face inching closer and closer.

Charles opens his mouth to say something, anything, but then suddenly there’s a pair of lips on his, hands on his waist gently pressing him into the wall, and he forgets how to breath for a second.

His hands shoot up to land on Max’s arm, his bicep, and for a moment he lets himself be kissed, loses himself in the moment. But then Max is pulling away, smiling softly at him.

“What was that for?” Charles asks, eyes wide and mouth kiss swollen.

Max shrugs. “Good luck charm, I guess.”

“Oh,” Charles says. Wants to say more. Wants to do it again. But then a harried Ferrari employee is rounding the corner and spots them, and starts yelling at Charles in rapid Italian about how he was supposed to be in the garage like ten minutes ago, and Max is being pulled in another direction by his security detail, and the moment is broken.

(It’s not until later, much later, when he’s on the top step of the podium, hoisting the trophy in the air, that he remembers.

The thing about curses, is that they can be broken. And the most common way, the best way, is true love’s first kiss.

Charles is feeling very excited about the Zandvoort Grand Prix, all of a sudden.)

Hangster prompt that could go two ways when Jake, exasperated, tired, a little drunk and a little heartbroken, asks Bradley - in front of everyone and Penny, during one of their nights out at the Hard Deck - what he knows about:

Prompt A: unrequited love and Bradley answers with the description of two men looking at each other from the opposite side of a piano, while a kid tries to learn a new melody, telling each other they are in love for then never talking about it again just for the love to find space in every aspect of their life but never ever in the way it was supposed to.

Prompt B: love. What the hell does it know about love. Just for Bradley to stop in the middle of a sentence to look up at Jake, smiling softly and asking him if he's really ready to hear all that Bradley does know about love, and if he has a little more time to spear, he could tell Jake what he doesn't know about it.

This is just too cute

Heyyy I loved your Oscar fic and I was wondering if you could write something where reader is Lando’s sister and she comes to a gp with him and she meets Oscar and she develops a crush on him

There's A Lightness In Your Eyes - OP81

Lando had told y/n plenty about Oscar ahead of the 2023 season since they spent time together during the break. Now they're in Bahrain for testing ahead of the Grand Prix and Lando, while not needing his sister there, has pulled her over to join him because apparently they need "bonding time". Something he demanded.

"If he seems kind of quiet, don't hold it against him. He's just kind of a quiet guy." Lando states to his sister who rolls her eyes. "What?"

"If either one of us can't handle an introvert, it's you Lando." Y/n giggles rolling her eyes then squealing when Lando pokes her side to tickle her. "Ah, don't do that!"

Lando does it again which ends up with Lando eventually chasing his sister to the McLaren unit ready to terrorise her even more in the safety of the paddock.

"Are you two really chasing each other?" Zak chuckles when y/n trips over and squeals hitting the ground pretty hard.

"She started it." Lando states, uncaring of his childishness since Zak doesn't actually care, so long as his team delivers on results and his drivers are confident about progress (along with backed up by data) then this is all acceptable.

Y/n spots the new teammate she recognises from McLaren posts and smiles jumping up to her feet. It only takes a couple seconds for their eye contact to make her insides turn to absolute mush.

"Hi..." Y/n smiles in a light voice moving to shake his hand. "I'm y/n."

"I'm Oscar." He states and his accent. HIS ACCENT.

Lando and Zak mainly engage in conversation while Oscar contributes slightly and y/n watches trying to keep her tongue in her mouth.

Y/n is no stranger to being attracted to a lot of the F1 drivers. Charles? Oh yeah that man is godly. Lewis? How could you not? Pierre's constant "fuck me" eyes? Yeah, she's been tempted. Carlos and literally everything he does? Y/n could hardly make eye contact.

But this thickly feeling in her chest, fluttering in her stomach. She's never felt like this. She's not foolish enough to believe that love at first sight is a thing, but this is definitely something she has never experienced before.

"Y/n, I got some media to do. So what do you want to do?" Lando asks making her snap out her thoughts of wondering what it might be like to feel Oscar's lips on her. They look soft. "Y/n, hello?"

"What's Oscar doing?" Y/n asks making Oscar look up a little shocked she's even asking.

"I'm going to grab some food."

"I'll stick with Oscar. I'm kind of hungry." Y/n shrugs trying to play it off as minor when actually being alone with Oscar is already making her feel giddy.

"Alright, well don't scare him. I'll see you later." Lando states fist-bumping his sister as he does with everyone apart from their grandmother.

"Bye." Y/n nods then turning to Oscar once her brother has left with Zak following suit to actually handle some business.

Y/n ends up nervously rambling, practically talking too much for Oscar to make any attempt at properly part-taking in the conversation. But he seems happy to eat and listen, just smiling as she rambles about her life, her brother and her thoughts on how McLaren's season is going to go.

-

Lando is not the brightest in the world, so the fact his sister and teammate are spending more and more time together as the week goes on, it's not something he notices. In fact the rest of the grid notices the two of them growing incredibly close in record time.

Oscar's face and eyes light up every time y/n is around him and it's obvious that the two have quickly grown close.

"Ok, do you want some help?" Oscar smiles patting the halo as y/n bounces a little in excitement to climb into the cockpit of Oscar car.

She's not driving it anywhere or even doing anything beyond sitting there. But she's never got to do this because Lando just never offered.

"Yeah I don't want to break anything." Y/n nods then smiling a blinding brightness when his hands fall to her waist, a place they're finding their way to more and more, before he lifts her up and into the cockpit.

"Ok, you just sit down. It might not be the most comfortable for you, since the seat is custom to me." Oscar warns while she nods shifting to sit down before she smiles. "Alright hold on."

Oscar moves, grabbing his helmet before he helps her put it on and smiles seeing her in his helmet. He can't even stop himself from capturing a few photos with the visor up to really show her smile that creases her eyes.

"What do you think?" Oscar asks making showing her the photos. "I think you really suit my helmet personally."

There's a flutter in her chest that nearly makes her melt into a puddle right there in the cockpit.

Oscar helps her back out and pulls off the helmet, and while he doesn't have the confidence to do it, y/n closes the space. Thinking "fuck it" as she finally kisses him. there's some gasps, one or two claps and one cheer of encouragement of Oscar's side of the garage seeing the action. But the two kiss and it's as perfect as y/n had been wishing for.

It's only once she's back out the car and sitting up on one of the ledges while Oscar has gone to change into his race suit that Lando appears with his engineer.

"Hey, I was wondering where you got to. What have you been doing?"

"Oh uhh...just hanging around to be honest." She shrugs innocently as if she didn't just kiss his teammate. "I'm going to get out the way though. Call mum and dad just to catch up."

-

The soft launch wasn't an surprise to anyone but Lando and when the photo dump came including the picture y/n in Oscar's car with his helmet. Lando finally connected the dots.

"Hey, what the hell? How are you doing to date my little sister and not even tell me?" Lando questions hating that he's having found this out after everyone else. Since Carlos was there when he saw the post and pointed out everyone else knew about it. "And you! You're really going to start dating my new teammate without even telling me you liked him."

Both feel guilty, but Oscar only just met the man and Lando's extroverted personality can be a little intimidating. Telling Lando was a bit of a scary thought.

Meanwhile, y/n just didn't want things to get awkward. Plus she somewhat believes she's beyond needing her brother's permission to date someone, teammate or not.

"Are you really mad or are you just annoyed you didn't know?" Y/n questions knowing her brother well enough that he's not the protective type of brother that would try to get in the way of a relationship especially that makes her as happy as she is.

"Shut up."

Clearly the latter.

"So are you alright with this?" Y/n asks knowing that Oscar probably needs the reassurance.

"Yes. But I don't want to witness disgustingly cute stuff. Keep that stuff away from me." Lando states, somewhat childishly but it's not really out of his character as a brother.

"Given we've managed that so far, I'm sure we can keep that up." Y/n laughs before moving to Oscar as she side hugs him then pausing. "Are hugs ok?"

"Yes...but the way you both light up looking at each other is making me feel more single than ever." Lando grumbles then turning. "I'm going to get a reputation as a third wheel to the two of you."

"And what a lucky man you are for that." Y/n giggles before she grins at him. "Don't think this gives you a pass to try with my friends."

"I wouldn't want to your friends are annoying." Lando shrugs going back to the bickering sibling dynamic that they usual have. "You guys are cute together...dammit. You better not break her heart, Oscar. Then I have to have beef with my own teammate and that's going to end badly."