Its So True Its Not Even Funny Anymore

OMG YOU ATE W THIS GIRL AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

hey, I don’t know if you take requests atm so feel free to ignore it because I have a pretty long request, but I just wanted to tell you that I love your writing!!

I was bored today and kept daydreaming when I got this idea for a request, feel free to change some things if you want:)

Idea is, the two were dating for a while, like a year or so, and they broke up because they wanted to persuade their own dreams, him winning a wdc and her being in med school to become a doctor. But during their relationship, Lando always dragged her into the gym with him, so she kind of got a contract with the gym for like 2 years idk. After their breakup she kept going to that gym, because she didn’t want to let her money go to waste. One day working out, a guy came up to her and tried to help her, getting close and supporting her. She saw Lando was watching them and kept going because she knew that would get him jealous. After her workout session in the changing rooms obv, she wanted to get unready etc. and Lando came in. Some enemies to lovers banter, so that he ends up pushing her against the wall in the shower and one thing leads to another and they have sex. At the end they settle for another round in his apartment and end up getting back together.

Atp feel free to do whatever you want and whatever you’re comfortable with!

Kind of like break up then seeing each other again leading to hate/anger sex, semi public sex, jealous sex

Kisses <3

Warnings: Smut, 18+ angst, praise, hot!sex, shower!sex, swearing, hate!sex, degradation, slut-shaming

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I’m sorry this took so long but omg this is such a good request!! xxxx

You had loved Lando. Of course you had, he had been an amazing boyfriend, but it wasn’t your dream to stay in a garage and watch him from afar, achieving his own dreams. And it wasn’t his dream to watch you go to med school and waste all his talent away.

The breakup had hurt. Absolutely, it had been painful letting go of a man you’d loved since you were in high school, but you both had destinies somewhere else, and if you couldn’t do it with the other by your side, then so be it.

“Yeah, I’m just heading to the gym right now,” you said, pulling on your hoodie as you spoke to your best friend, Maria, over the phone. “Jesus, didn’t Lando drag you there every day?” she asked, as you rolled your eyes, tying your hair into a ponytail.

“Yeah, I still have the stupid membership,” you grumbled, “I’m gonna finish it, then not renew it,” you said, picking up your gym bag, and grabbing your bottle. “Alright, well, you have fun,” she smiled, as you muttered a small ‘bye’ before hanging up.

You’d chosen some cute little pink sports bra and a matching pair of tight leggings, it was easier for you to work out in something like that. You walked into the gym, scanning your membership as you did so, god knows why you’d opted for the two year membership.

It had been a little bit ambitious of you to have gotten a membership, hoping you’d be together for that long, but at the time it seemed reasonable. At the time, it seemed like it could happen, and it wasn’t just a thought that you had.

You were standing by the mirror, holding a couple weights, trying to think of anything but how Lando would stand behind you to make sure you were okay, or how you’d share his bottle with him when you forgot your own…fuck.

It hurt. It hurt so much that you couldn’t be with him, that you’d had to watch his races through a fucking television and not with him, to show your support and how much you loved him. You still loved him. But did he still love you? You’d never know the answer to that.

“Hey, you need some help?” a voice made you look up, a guy, with a half smile on his face. God, you need a distraction from Lando anyways. “Can you spot me??” you asked, as he nodded, setting his shit down and placing his hands on your waist to move you back a bit.

Lando didn’t know why he hadn’t cancelled his membership. He was a millionaire, he could afford to lose a few thousand, but returning to the same place, every single day, at the same time, it felt like a natural part of him that he simply couldn’t go without.

Like a life source, almost needed to him as much as air was needed to him. Almost as much as you were needed to him. But he had a break between his triple header, so it had been a month after you both broke up, but he was back in his game.

That stupid pink set… why did he buy it for you? And why did he gave to see some girl in that same set with a guy helping her lift, who looked a lot like you…wait…

No way. Lando would’ve thought you’d cancelled the membership or something. He remembered the look on your face when he’d said he couldn’t do it anymore, the way your gorgeous eyes had shimmered with tears…he’d never forget that.

But seeing you here now, another man touching you, that’s what made him snap. “I’m gonna grab the rest of my shit, you go the showers,” the guy smiled to you. Way too friendly for Lando’s liking. “Hey,” he said, his voice sullen as he approached you.

“He- oh, uh, hi Lando,” you said, your face visibly falling as Lando narrowed his eyes. “Who’s that guy? You got a boyfriend?” he said, not even caring where he was going as he followed you. “No,” you said, your reply short and sharp. What right did Lando have to do this?

“You don’t get the right to act like-,” you started, but Lando cut you off, his voice sharper and harsher than you expected. “I don’t care what rights I have, I know them very well, thanks,” he said bitterly as you rolled your eyes, hanging up your bag in your locker.

“Still wear this, then?” he said, running a finger along the under band of your bra, your shoulders tensing. “Stop,” you batted his hand away as he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Why have you moved on so quickly, hm?” he asked, “what, you’re that desperate for a cock?”.

“Oh don’t even,” you scoffed, “don’t make out like I’m a slut or what we,” you snapped, “you left my life, I have every right to move on from you, you left me!”. Lando’s jaw went slack, his eyes darkening. “I left you, yeah?” he said, your body jumping as he pushed your softly, back against the wall of the shower, locking the door.

“We agreed to move on!” he snapped, his voice louder than he intended. “Oh please, don’t act like you haven’t slept with anyone since then!” you said, equally as loud, taking his by surprise. “Why?” he said, his voice dropping of all its hate and and anger.

“Why do you look prettier without me, Y/N?”. That made you freeze. “What the hell does that mean?” you said, voice shaking shaking. “You look good, just as good. If not better,” he said, slowly letting his eyes trace your body. “Why did you move on so quickly?” his voice raised once more.

“Maybe you’re right!” you yelled, “maybe I do want cock, is that so bad?”. Lando clenched his jaw, his teeth grinding together almost painfully. “You want cock, yeah?” he said, “well I’ll give it to you,”. You were about to open your mouth to protest when his hand quite literally tore your sports bra off.

“Lando!” you hissed, the materials falling off your body in two pieces. “I bought it, I can rip it,” he said, dipping his head to press wet kisses to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive spots, the ones he knew perfectly well, the ones he was so well accustomed to…

“I’ll buy it for you in every fucking colour if you do just shut the fuck up,” he snapped, nipping at your neck, finding a point along your collarbone, and sucking down on it, a moan leaving your lips as he held you against the cold wall of the shower.

He moved his hands down to the waist band of your leggings, a moan on your lips as he traced your wet folds through your panties. “Lando, fuck,” you gasped, hands clawing at his back softly, your nails digging into his skin as you tore his shirt off.

“You’re just fucking dick desperate, Y/N,” Lando scoffed, pulled his own joggers down, his cock springing hard against his abdomen as he moved your panties to the side, pumping his finger in and out of you, no care to go slower, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit.

“Couldn’t even last a month without crawling back like a desperate little slut,” he laughed, the sound cold and belittling, as you whined, his throbbing head pushing your folds apart, running over your aching bundle of nerves, teasing your entrance.

“Say you want it, Y/N,” he said, his head dipping down once more to run over the love bite he left on your neck, his cock slipping into you. “Oh fuck, Lan,” you gasped, your hands tightening over his biceps, nails scratching at his skin as he groaned.

“Tight as ever,” he said, holding himself inside of you, running a hand over the bump in your tummy. “Fuck, it’s like you’re made for me,” he said, slowly pulling out of you, leaving his head hanging inside of you as your cunt clenched again, tightening round his tip as he wrapped a hand round your neck.

His veins flexed as he slowly moved his hips, shifting the tempo til he was ploughing through your folds, your moans becoming louder and louder, eyes rolling as he held you against the wall. You hadn’t really gone a whole month without sex whilst dating Lando, so it didn’t take long for your orgasm to build up.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped, your heat enveloping his thigh member, the vein on the underside throbbing against your entrance, your breaths coming out short and sharp. “I’m gonna cum, Lando,” you gasped, one of his hands moving to your hair, the other rubbing across your clit.

“God, do it,” he said, your eyes squeezing shut as you both gasped, his thrusts becoming sloppy and your pussy clenching as your orgasm flushed, your thighs painted with thick ropes of cum, your body shaking. “We’re not done,” he said, his hand in your neck.

You whimpered, accepting the hoodie he thrust at your chest, pulling it over your head as you let him grab your hand, dragging you out of the changing room. The guy from earlier just watched as you were dragged away, grumbling under his breath about ‘bitches changing their minds’.

By the time you had come back to the apartment, it had barely changed, but the one place you were most acquainted with, aka, Lando’s bed, looked even more appealing than it ever had. “Lando,” you gasped as he dropped you onto your back, your body bouncing.

“Turn over,” he said, teeth gritted together as you nodded, your body bent over the edge of the mattress as he lifted the hoodie. “Always looked good in my shit,” he said, pushing his cock into you once more. “Oh god,” you gasped, your eyes rolling as he held himself in you again.

“Missed this, hm?” he asked, “still come to that stupid gym, all because of you,” he growled. “What?” you asked, just about managing to say the words without moaning, one of his hands pushing you it not he mattress, the sound of his hips snapping into yours echoing round the room.

The sound of his cock plunging into your wet heat, over and over again, it was filthy, your eyes rolling at the sound of it, Lando’s jaw going slack. “Can’t not go to that place when I used to take you there all the time,” he said, “you’d look so good…”.

“Can’t believe we never fucked there when we were dating,” he said, and all you could respond with was a moan as he toyed with your clit once more. “Missed you so bad,” he said after a few seconds, his lips parted with need and pleasure.

“Missed y-you too,” you choked out, your cunt clenching round him as you felt your second orgasm build up, the bump in your tummy prominent from his cock, thick and long inside of you. “Need you back,” you gasped, your hands helping your body to balance.

“Yeah? I want you too,” he said, leaning down to press surprisingly soft kisses to your neck and collarbone, as you whimpered. “Lando, please,” you moaned, “d-don’t say that,”. He frowned, his hips slowing down, not enough to deny your orgasm, but to make you focus on him.

“Why?” he asked, tilting your chin to look at him. “Don’t get my hopes up,” you said, body rocking as he frowned. “Y/N, I want you back,” he said, “truthfully, I want you back. We do long distance, I’ll visit after every race,” he said, almost pleading with you.

“W-We can talk about it,” you said, your cunt clenching round his thick member as your orgasm flushed through, Lando’s body lined with a sheen of sweat, his cheeks painted red as he slowed down, pulling out of you, his cum shooting along your thighs as you panted.

Fuck, you needed him back.

because this should be spread everywhere whether you are a fan of Lando or no, no one deserves hate, and they especially don't deserve hate when all they are trying to do is achieve the one thing they have been working so hard for.

Hello.

I want you to listen. Don’t scroll away because of the buzz word ‘Lando’.

Listen.

This has gone beyond hate for Lando. This about all the drivers.

This is about treating drivers respectfully. This is about your parasocial relationships with the drivers. This is about you reading into everything they say.

This is about the F1 media taking clips out of context because they don’t want a race they want a drama.

This is about you taking those clips and not bothering to find the original source, and taking it to fuel a hatred for someone you don’t know.

This is about you hating on a new driver because you miss the old one.

This is about you sending hate to fans of a driver you don’t like.

When I dislike something I scroll- I ignore, because it’s not worth my time. Why should I let the social media algorithm think I like the video because I watch it? I block a person I dislike. I don’t go onto their account and spend time out of my life to comment.

But unfortunately the amount of hate I’m seeing it’s getting hard to ignore it.

Haters and fans. Opposite end of the spectrum, still on the same spectrum.

You’re still thinking about the guy you supposedly hate. You talk about him under other driver related posts, you make it your entire personality.

You make it toxic.

The difference in drivers is what makes the sport fun. I’m friends with people who have other favourite drivers. What we do is we talk about the race. We talk about how their driver did really well and what mine could’ve done better. We have fun.

Because it’s the sport that bonds us.

I don’t send death threats to them. People have become so obsessed with other peoples lives and it shows.

A driver can’t say he feels lonely without getting jumped on for it. A driver gets asked his opinion after a high adrenaline race, one he feels he didn’t do well and he sounds a little bitter. Of course he’s going to. Yet you read into it.

He celebrates and you read into it.

And then dislike them when they decide not to do anything anymore.

You criticise them for the mistakes they’ve already owned up to and refuse to even acknowledge the good they’ve achieved.

New fans get scared to join because they worry everyone will hate them. Which kills the sport in turn.

Lando. Max. Every single driver on the grid do not know you. And you do not know them. You know of them. You do not know them.

You do not know what they do or who they are the moment they’re away from the cameras.

You do not need to like a driver. Nor do you need to dislike them. I don’t dislike drivers, I just have drivers I favour a bit more than others. Because why would I hate them?

I dislike some of the things they do- during the race. Of course. I’m bitter after a race doesn’t go well. I’m a fan of the sport.

But that’s as far as it goes.

I do not care for their personal life as it’s theirs, nor do I care for what minuscule thing they’ve done.

If you don’t feel called out, then good- I’m not talking about you. You’re the good ones. If you are feeling ‘attacked’ then perhaps it’s time to rethink what you want to spend limited time, that is your life, on.

We only have so many minutes in our lives to actually live. So live it. Don’t spend it on hating on others.

Good day/night. 😊

Jealous biker lando being over protective of waitress reader 👀

Dangerous Territory ── biker!lando x waitress!reader ✧.*

The diner hums with its usual late-night rhythm. The faint clatter of cutlery, the buzz of conversation, and the smell of frying bacon and coffee fill the air. You’re moving from table to table, a practiced smile on your lips as you top off mugs and serve plates. It’s late, and your shift is dragging, but it’s familiar, comforting in a way. The neon lights from the diner’s sign outside cast a soft glow over the checkered floors, painting everything in a warm, nostalgic light.

From the corner of your eye, you spot Lando in his usual booth, sitting with his back to the wall, one arm slung casually over the back of the seat. He’s always there at the end of your shifts, watching you, not in an overbearing way but in a protective, silent kind of presence. His leather jacket creaks as he leans back, his dark eyes tracking your movements with a kind of lazy interest. The dim lighting throws shadows across his sharp jawline, making him look even more dangerous than usual. He doesn’t need to say much; just his being there is enough to let everyone know you’re not alone.

You try not to focus on him too much, knowing that whenever your eyes meet, something sparks in the air between you. But it’s hard not to notice him, sitting there like a storm waiting to break, his motorcycle parked just outside, ready to whisk you away once you’ve clocked out.

As you move back to the counter, you feel someone’s eyes on you—a different kind of stare. A guy at the counter, someone you haven’t seen before, grins at you as you set a plate of food down in front of him. His smile is too wide, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than you’d like as you bring him his food. “Another burger and chips,” you say politely, sliding the plate in front of him, already moving to step back when he decides to lean in.

“You work here every night, darling?” His words are slurred but sharp enough to make your stomach turn. His eyes rake over you, from your waist up to your face, and the sleazy grin spreading across his lips sends a chill through you.

You force a smile, trying to keep things professional. “Most nights,” you reply curtly, turning away to tend to the next table, but his voice follows you, dripping with entitlement.

“You’re too pretty for a place like this,” he says, louder now, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables. “How about you finish up here and I take you somewhere nice, eh? Bet you’ve never been treated right.” His voice greasy, oozing with an unwanted familiarity.

You freeze, fingers tightening around the coffee pot in your hand, trying to keep calm. “I’m fine, thanks,” you say through gritted teeth, praying he’ll get the hint and leave you alone.

But, of course, he doesn’t. “Oh, come on, sweetheart. Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to be friendly. How about I get your number?” He leans further over the counter, and now you can feel his breath on your skin, the stench of beer making your stomach churn.

You’re about to respond when you feel a shift in the air, a prickle of tension that’s unmistakable. Lando’s watching. And this time, he’s not staying in his booth.

From where you stand, you can see the change in everyone else—the way conversations pause, forks freeze mid-bite, and even the jukebox seems to fade into the background.

Lando’s not rushing. He never does. He walks with purpose, slow and steady, his boots thudding against the tiled floor with a deliberate weight. His leather jacket is half-zipped, the collar up, his eyes locked on the bloke at the counter with a look that could kill.

You’re caught between wanting to stop him and knowing better. Lando’s never been one to start trouble, but he doesn’t shy away from it either, especially not when it comes to you.

The guy at the counter seems blissfully unaware of the impending storm, too caught up in his own delusions of charm. “What d’you say, love? You can do better than this place, yeah?”

Before you can open your mouth, Lando steps up behind you, his chest almost brushing your back as he positions himself between you and the counter. His presence feels like a shield, his hand lightly grazing your waist, a silent gesture that says, I’ve got this.

“You’ve got about three seconds to leave,” Lando says quietly, his voice low and controlled, but there’s an edge to it that sends a shiver down your spine. The kind of tone that promises hell if the bloke doesn’t listen.

The man’s smile falters for the first time, but he tries to laugh it off. “Oi, mate, no need to get all worked up. We’re just having a bit of fun, yeah?” His eyes flick between you and Lando, clearly trying to assess if this is worth pushing.

Lando doesn’t move, doesn’t even blink. “I’m not your mate,” he growls, his hand tightening slightly on your waist. “And she’s not interested. So, unless you want to be picking up your teeth from the floor, I suggest you leave.”

There’s a pause, thick with tension. Lando’s arm brushes against yours, a small but significant reminder that you’re not alone in this. His fingers twitch slightly, as if resisting the urge to do more, but his presence alone is enough to make the guy back down, finally clocking just how dangerous Lando is. He mutters something under his breath—something about not wanting trouble—and then fumbles to grab his jacket, to throw some money on the counter before practically tripping over his stool in his haste to leave. The bell jingles as it swings shut behind him, and the quiet that follows is almost deafening.

You exhale slowly, the knot in your stomach finally loosening. Lando’s hand lingers on your waist for a moment longer before he turns slightly, looking down at you. His jaw is still tight, his eyes softer now but still flickering with the remnants of protective rage.

“You alright?” His voice is gentler now, his thumb brushing your side.

You nod, offering a small smile. “Yeah, thanks”

Lando’s gaze softens as he looks at you, the intensity melting away now that the guy is gone. His hand moves to your waist, fingers brushing gently over your hip in a way that feels more like a reassurance than anything else. “Didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough with protectiveness. “Bloke’s lucky I didn’t deck him.”

You laugh softly, though there’s a hint of truth in his words that makes you shiver. “You didn’t have to get up, I could’ve handled it.”

Lando raises an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, but why let you when I’m right here?” he teases lightly, though there’s no mistaking the seriousness in his eyes. He’d do it again in a heartbeat.

You roll your eyes playfully, but you can’t deny the flutter in your chest at how easily he steps in when you need him. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he says with a grin, tugging you just a little closer before pressing a soft kiss to your temple. His hand lingers on your waist as if he can’t bring himself to let go, even as you pull away to get back to work.

As you return to your shift, you can still feel Lando’s eyes on you, that quiet, protective presence watching over you from his booth. And though the diner’s back to its usual buzz, you feel safer, knowing Lando’s never far, ready to step in the moment you need him.

—

read After Hours here

for charles fan fiction, anything by @pucksandpower

YES YES YES I LOVE HER OMG And I have read all her fictions (EHEGRHEGHRGEHS) totally not normal about this

not to be dramatic but I would die for him

Oh he’s everything to me

daniel ricciardo taking the fastest lap point off max’s championship contender mayhem……..charles leclerc all up in mclaren’s business in a ferrari held together by prayer causing all kind of mayhem….….max has assembled his situationships like the avengers to win this championship

someone tried to tell me that top gun isn’t gay at all and that it’s rude to assume people are gay

dude… did we watch the same movie??

because like what the fuck is this:

oscar wanting to meet leo "if he can pop to mclaren" is so funny because of course oscar can't pop to ferrari - there's a man who wants him dead

I NEED THIS BIBLICALLY PLEASE

I DID SOMETHING ACCIDENTALLY 😭😭

S2 has ruined me. I will never ever be the same fucking person again

Satosugu in 2x02

↳ anime vs manga

bonus:

boyfriends being boyfriends (′ꈍωꈍ‵)