#watch oscars hotel

[cacston]

I wish someone looked at me the way I look at 40+/fictional men

[killerchickadee]

Astonishing to me that I don't like a lot of noise in general, and yet I ended up with a fucking screaming bird and a fucking cat who never shuts the fuck up.

[propalahramota]

Disney, please look at my script treatment for the Prince Hans from Frozen solo movie about him and a band of goofy down-on-their-luck bandits that he meets in prison and initially hates until they form an unbreakable bond like he never had with his brothers doing a heist to retrieve the stolen Crown of Arendelle. Come on, I know it's not in your spam folder.

[babysdrivers]

having a kickthepj moment and honestly when will there ever be a better youtube video than 'introducing wiggles'

[daddyricsdoll]

Vanilla? ✭ Oscar Piastri

Summary: It's always the quiet ones that are the freakiest. But that wasn't what every other driver on the grid thought as they teased Oscar and you for being too innocent to know anything beyond vanilla sex. So when you guys didn't put up a fight, they figured they were right... until someone was lucky enough to see you and Oscar on the other end of the spectrum of "plain sex".

Warnings: not vanilla sex! fingering, oral (male receiving), bondage (hands tied together), spreader bar (if that even what it’s called), unprotected sex, rough because how else would you have it? Gagging and deep-throating Oscar’s huge dick 😩

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Oscar is the man who makes me wanna wake up in the morning and I love it!! I'm so obsessed with him it's making me go insane, but if I'm going insane it's fine because I'm going insane over him. Everything about him is beautiful and I wanna call him pretty and gorgeous and watch as he blushes. Then ride him and take control of him until he wants to teach me lesson and makes me pass out. (I’m just a girl) Based off of this request.

“Oscar, how would you say relationships outside of F1 have helped you grow in this sport as a driver and as a person. If they had an impact, and if not then why?” Oscar’s PR manager testing questions on him, posing as one of the many journalists trying to break Oscar’s wall that he’s been perfect at keeping up so far. He finds it amusing that they have so much interest in his life, only encouraging him to keep his words to a minimum. Well as long as you don’t come up– his cheeks immediately flush and he starts every sentence with “my girlfriend” before he looks at others and silently begs them to say something to shut him up.

“Well, everyone’s been supportive of my career. Which only makes me want to do my best, and better than that.” Keeping a straight face as he answers until he looks at you beside him then Lando with a proud grin on his face.

“Who’s everyone…? Your girlfriend?” Lando’s voice teases, like every schoolgirl talking about their friend's crush.

“I- yeah. She does a lot for me, helps me let off steam before and after races, she also-”

“Let off steam, huh? Is my Oscar making his girlfriend cum to let off steam?” Lando’s mouth wide open, making an ‘o’ shape. Both you and Oscar have mixed emotions– heat coursing through you remembering just this morning, but also shock from Lando’s unhinged question.

“You’d be surprised?” Oscar’s answer broad, but you knew. Letting Lando believe that Oscar lets you cum, when his favourite thing is edging you until tears roll down your face.

“Oscar, you probably just learnt what a clit is.” Lando having nothing better to do than tease him as his pale cheeks turn pink. 

“Believe whatever makes you happy.” Oscar shutting down the conversation before he reveals too much, a little smile on his lips as he chuckles and moves his hand further up your thigh.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

It wasn’t just Lando who would have a say about you and Oscar’s sexual life, but any driver who happened to walk into the conversation at the perfect time.

“Oh yeah, Oscar you’re vanilla.” His fellow Australian, Daniel Ricciardo, says. Joining them on their walk to wherever they all had to be next. 

“Well actually I think Oscar is a little more than vanilla. He’s vanilla but not vanilla.” Logan pops in too.

“No. Oscar is sooo vanilla. Like he’s too scared to choke his girlfriend because she’ll die and he’s never marked her so she knows she’s his.” Lando expresses his words with so much passion it makes Oscar roll his eyes but know exactly what Lando’s doing when their hotel rooms are beside each other and he’s invited a girl over. 

“Wow. Calm down Lando, I think we learnt a little bit more from you than Oscar. You definitely need a girlfriend.” Daniel spoke the words everyone was thinking. Letting Oscar finally breathe and have all the attention over to Lando and his desires.

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

“Fuck, I needed you.” Oscar groans out, thrusting himself ever deeper into your mouth. “Talking ‘bout how vanilla we are. But look at us.” The position you were in was unimaginable. You lay on your back, head on the edge of the sofa as Oscar rammed into your mouth with his fingers opening you wide and making you cum. But still, that wasn’t enough, your hands tied together and a spreading bar made sure your legs couldn’t be shut, always ready for Oscar, but with a blindfold over your eyes how would you know? Each of your moans were muffled by his cock and as one of his hands played with your clit the other toyed with your nipple.

Blood rushed to your head from this position and it filled in for the loss of his hand around your neck. Oscar pounded into you, his dick making you gag as you deepthroated him. An explosion of fireworks inside of you as he continued making you cum, a loud scream trying it’s best to flee your puffy lips, but Oscar couldn’t help but enjoy hearing you struggle to make out any coherent sounds because of his cock. 

By now it was impossible to remember the amount of times he had made you release. From his mouth, fingers and dick, all you did know was that that number was only going to increase. 

Each of his moves were so intense, Oscar had you spellbound. Unable to notice anything other than him. Well that was until he pounded himself as deep as he could into your mouth and then stopped. Everything went silent.

“Oh fuck! Oscar?!” Those words certainly didn’t come out of your mouth, and when you realised who did say that, oh you couldn’t have been more embarrassed, but somehow aroused. Seconds later the door finally shut, and you could only think about the uncensored view Lando had of the both of you. 

“Fuck, I’ll deal with him later. But for now…you need to cum.” Pulling out of your swollen mouth and grabbing you off the couch to lay your shamelessly sinful body on the floor. Oscar doesn’t take his time, manhandling your legs so your feet are nearly inline with your head and then making your arms keep them back by going in front of the spreader bar.

Leaving your pussy so exposed and vulnerable that Oscar could do whatever he liked between those drenched folds. It was always a gamble with Oscar, sometimes he’d take his time to tease you, others he wouldn’t even give you time to catch breath. This was just as unpredictable as others, by now you would either be covered in your own tears from his edging or on the verge of passing out because you could feel him in your throat after coming in you repeatedly. 

You felt less of an advantage, not even being able to lay eyes on him, so you listened to your own heavy breathing until he touched you again. Fingers going between your folds and spreading them apart with his index and ring finger. Lightly teasing you with his middle one. “Looks like you’ve had enough today huh? Or can you take one more?” 

You nod your head as an answer, but it’s never enough as he asks you for words.

“Y-yes. I can take more.” You force out between breaths, in shock of how you even managed to say those words. 

“Oh really? Well that’s great.” Oscar holds your pliant body up even further and then makes a swift move of ramming himself deep inside of you. Once again it pulled all of the oxygen from your lungs and the stretch from the position couldn’t be compared to the stretch from his cock. You couldn’t complain as he thrusted in again and hit your g-spot. Bringing more tears to your red eyes.

Grunts and groans slipping past his lips and making his actions such a godly sensation. 

Oscar pounds himself into you with no mercy, finding pleasure in your moans and cries. You wish to hold him, dig your fingers into his shoulders and mark his back. Adorn his pale skin in love bites and make his lips swollen. Thinking about the way his body flexes with every thrust and how divine he would look from this position that you’ve been in many times but each new one has a different effect.

“What’d you think Lando’s telling them?” Oscar grips your thighs tighter–fingers certainly making bruises– keeping you in place as he vigorously rams inside of your overstimulated pussy. Never losing pattern or momentum.

“You think he’s telling them about how you took me so well? Your hands tied up? And how fucking good you looked between my legs.” Each of Oscar’s words having such an effect on you it could've been a trick of hypnotism. Your legs shaking and lips parted as you came. Oscar savoured the beautiful sounds leaving your mouth and he worked harder to fuck your high out and bring his in.

You clenched around him, forcing a moan to finally leave his lips and bless your ears. Oscar spasms and releases inside of you. Pushing himself so deep and his cum even deeper. He thrusts a few more times, easing both of you out and spreading his cum inside your walls. Oscar sits in you for a while before pulling out. “Fuck, that was so. Fucking. Good.” He starts untying you and helping you come undone from all of the restraints. Letting you lay flat on the floor as he did all the work.

“I would’ve been in you for hours if he didn’t come in. Can’t imagine what he said to them”

Oscar crawls up your body and plants a kiss on your lips. 

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

Finally leaving Oscar’s room you both didn’t know what to expect. Well definitely not drivers surrounding a small table as Lando spoke to them all with hand actions and his face even worse. 

“Y’know vanilla isn’t even that bad. But wow Piastri, I didn’t think that.” Daniel brings all the attention to you two. Every driver turned their head with a series of reactions on their faces.

“You are freaky Oscar.” Logan couldn’t hold back and somehow Fernando was there to agree with him.

“I have to tell Charles! Now I know what you two do.” Pierre smirks, making you blush and look at the ground.

“Well I guess I was wrong, but Oscar why didn’t you tell me you sneaky boy. Because then I had to see it.” 

“It seemed like you wanted to join.” 

“No I-”

“The way you’re speaking about Lando, it seemed like you wanted to join.” Daniel once again kind of saving Oscar from these unfortunate topics.

“What? Guys this is about Oscar and how freaky he is with his girlfriend!”

“If you want to join, just ask.” You finally speak, teasing Lando and watching the way his face changes. 

“Oh you guys are so not vanilla!”

[sunrizef1]

Speak for Yourself

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Authors Note: not edited woohoo, back to your regularly scheduled programming, planning to shut up now lol

Word count: 4.6k I think

Warnings: light cursing, AUS 24, not edited, inaccurate information regarding f2 seasons for the sake of the plot

Summary: You’d been around as long as Logan had, it was no time until one of the drivers developed a crush on you. Oscar had thought it was obvious you weren’t single. Guess not.

—————————————————

Growing up, Oscar had always known he was quieter than a lot of his friends. He’d just rather keep to himself than be loud in his day-to-day life. Even Logan was considered loud when around the Aussie, and considering Logan was pretty quiet himself, that was impressive.

Everyone around him knew he preferred to be private. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to share things with his friends and family, it was just that having his own life was more convenient.

One of the things he’d always been private about, was his relationships. He’d had girlfriends growing up, none of them really sticking around too long as the times changed.

But then he met you. 2018. Logan had introduced you as his best friend, Oscar decided not to be offended. You were the opposite of the Australian. You were loud and happy and Oscar was absolutely captivated by you. He’d asked Logan if he was allowed to ask you out and the American had just laughed with a nod, Oscar practically running over to you the second the race was over.

Of course, you were 17 so Oscar didn’t exactly have the emotional maturity to realize he was in love with you at the time. It only took him six months to say it out loud, though. Three years later and you two were still going strong, Oscars career only moving upwards as he raced through the 2021 F2 season.

Logan had been trying to find a way to get you a job with him the whole season. You’d just agreed, choosing to follow him around for a whole year as he moved through different series. He’d never have told Oscar but he’d needed your support more than anything. Just having to cycle through seats and races and series had drained him, you needing to practically talk him off the ledge multiple times throughout the year.

But you did get a few races with Oscar. Toward the end of the year, Logan got to race alongside his friend, meaning you got to hang out with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend, who was looking likely to win the entire championship.

“Are you nervous?” You hummed under your breath, your words echoing around the silence of the dark hotel room. You feel Oscar shift behind you, his arm tightening around your torso. The next morning, he’d be racing to win the championship, hopes and dreams laid out before him.

“I don’t think so,” he pauses, contemplating his words, “I think I was. Not anymore though, I’ve got you with me. That’s enough for me.”

You take a second to think through his words before a grin splits your face, skin heating up as the sentence sinks in, “I love you, Osc.”

The man in question shifts again, swinging his other arm around to wrap you tighter in his hold, “I love you too.”

You eventually fall asleep, letting the quiet of the room paired with the sound of the beating heart behind you, lull you to bed.

The next day, Oscar wins the championship, your loud yells sounding uncharacteristically quiet in the cacophony of screaming voices that surround you. He doesn’t sprint over to you or anything, big gestures not really his style. But he does make eye contact with you with a warming smile once he steps out of the car and that’s enough for you to know exactly how he feels in that moment.

Logan, though, is being very weird. You were sat in your boyfriend’s room, watching Logan practically wear a hole in the carpet with his constant pacing. He walked back and forth through the room with an absent mind and shaky hands. Throughout the year you’d been forced to follow him around, you somehow hadn’t seen him this nervous the whole time. Impressive considering he’d met about 100 very important people in the span of about two weeks.

“What’s your problem?” Logan’s eyes snap toward you, eyebrows shooting up as he looks at you with wide eyes.

“Nothing,” you roll your eyes at his quickly worded response, he didn’t seem to be in a too concerning state of being so you opted to leave him alone. He’d be fine eventually. He’d also looked about the same last week when the Dolphins had almost lost. He’d recovered from that too.

Your head instead turns toward where the door has just opened. You watch your boyfriend walk through, his gaze immediately catching on the weirdo pacing in the corner.

“Hi, Logan?” Oscar hums with a confused look on his face. Logans gaze locks onto the older Aussie, a stupid grin splitting the Americans face.

“Congrats, Oscar. Have a great evening,” Logan says, slapping his friend on the shoulder. The dumb grin is back on the blond man’s face, proving your earlier hypothesis that he’d heal from his paranoia relatively quickly.

Oscar, on the other hand, is surprisingly quick to take over Logan’s role as village weirdo, moving to rush Logan out of the room. Logan leaves, not before he gives Oscar a suspicious glance but Oscar just replies by shoving him out. You dismiss it as annoyance at the man for intruding, though your eyes do stay trained on the door Logan had just left though for more than a few moments.

“He’s so weird,” you mumble, a confused look on your face as you think back to your friends actions.

“Yeah, he is,” Oscar replies, rolling his eyes. There’s a second layer of agreement laced through his words, though you don’t catch the fact he might have a different reason to agree. You hum, still trying to decode why your friend had been acting like that, not even figuring the cause might be the man in front of you.

Oscar pulls your attention back toward him as he rests a hand on your face, gently tilting your head toward him, “I have dinner reservations for tonight. That place you’d talked about this morning.”

You smile, completely forgetting about Logan’s loser behavior, “Sounds great.”

Oscar grins before letting go of your face, the feeling of his grasp still lingering on your skin, “I’m gonna take a shower, then we can go back to the hotel.”

You laugh, pushing him away from you gently. Oscar stumbles dramatically, causing your laugh to get louder. You don’t notice how Oscar’s smile gets bigger in sync with your happiness.

“Go, then. You stink.”

Oscar pulls a face, offense painting his features, “Rude.”

You snort, rolling your eyes as he moves toward the bathroom, “Go, nerd!”

Oscar laughs a final time before finally stepping into the room, shutting the door behind him. You collapse onto the couch you’re sitting on, mind running with thoughts of the dinner you were about to go to and recent memories of the pure elation you were feeling after Oscar’s win. Content fills your body as you relax, faint sounds of the shower the only sound filtering through your ears.

A few hours later, you’re sat across from your boyfriend, laughing over your food while sharing anecdotes back-and-forth, laughs probably a little too loud for the really nice restaurant.

Oscar grabs the bill from the waiter, smiling politely as the man walks away momentarily. Oscar pulls his card out and slides it back in his wallet before putting it in his back pocket, moving to stand up afterward. You grin as he holds a hand out to you, helping you to your feet.

You hum warmly, tiredness spreading through you as you approached the conclusion of a pretty long day. The food had been delicious and the atmosphere was wonderful.

You had thought you’d be going straight back to the hotel, considering Oscar still had to race again tomorrow.

But as you exit, Oscar pulls you away from the car, interlocking his fingers with yours. You shoot your eyebrows up as you glance at your boyfriend, a tight smile on his lips.

“I thought we could go for a walk on the beach, maybe? It’s really pretty,” Oscar stares straight ahead as he says the words, gaze seemingly avoiding yours. But when you don’t answer for a second, he does glance over to you and you finally nod with a small smile.

“Sure, I’d love that.”

Oscar gulps, a big grin splitting his face. He looks back toward the sand a bit ahead of you, moving to slowly stroll down it with you by his side. You let out a relaxed sigh, head falling into his shoulder. Oscar had been right, this was very pretty. Lights lit up the sand around you, reflecting off the ocean waves that crashed toward you. The sun is starting to set in the distance, casting warm hues over the sky.

You do stop to pull of your heels and Oscar is quick to hold them in his hands, resuming in his passive, slow walk.

You make bare comments about how pretty your surroundings were, the sound of silence just not satisfying you. Although you do leave enough time between sentences to truly take in the calmness that comes with the ocean scenery, wave sounds in the silence and all.

You eventually come to a point some ways down the beach that has more lights than the rest. They form a little semi-circle that perfectly light up the area. Oscar pulls you to a stop in the middle of them and he turns you both to look out at the ocean. You swear you hear a sound from behind you but when you glance over, the beach is clear of anyone else so you turn back around to gaze toward the sunset.

The sun is about halfway down in the horizon and you find your gaze locked on the pink and orange that fades through the sky. You’re so focused that you don’t notice that Oscars grasp on you disappears. When you turn around to point out the colors to your boyfriend, a sharp gasp leaves your throat.

“Oh my god, Osc-!”

You cut yourself off with a hand over your mouth as you look down at your boyfriend, kneeling in the sand, a small box clutched in his hands.

You don't remember much of his speech, too busy trying to not start absolutely sobbing. But you do remember the last words that leave his mouth before the ring is slid onto your finger.

“Will you marry me?”

You nod quickly, hands shaking as Oscar stands up to put the ring onto you. You stare down at it for a few seconds as Oscars hands rest on your waist, waiting for your reaction. You look up, moving through the shock in your veins. You grasp his face in your hands and pull him down into an emotionally-charged kiss, feeling his arms wrap around you tighter.

He smiles into the kiss, head resting against yours once you finally pull away. You look into his eyes for a second before laughing and leaning away, tears dripping down your face.

“That was so wonderful, Osc,” you say through your tears, wiping your face with the back of your hand.

“I’m glad you liked it,” Oscar smiles before it drops slightly, a grimace pulling onto his face, “because Logan’s been in that bush the whole time.”

Your head whips toward the bush Oscars hand is outstretched toward, eyebrows furrowed as you search the greenery.

An incredulous laugh leaves your throat as Logan pops his head up, a sheepish glance in your direction being all he offers in response. You snort, grinning as you notice the nice-looking camera in his hands.

“Come here, idiot,” you smile, waiting for your friend to emerge from the bushes so you can share this moment with the man who’d been your closest friend for your entire life, “‘At least, now I know why you were acting like that.”

That was, of course, 2021. Now, two years later, you were still following Logan around. But now, with the Floridian entering F1, you had a contract and a paycheck that came with it. Anyone who didn’t know Logan would think you were his assistant. Which you technically were. But anyone who did know Logan, would instead refer to you as his paid-best-friend, many jokes about him paying you to hang around being thrown his way from fans and fellow drivers alike.

It was very convenient that your husband was entering F1 at the same time as the man who employs you, opening up so many more chances to spend time with Oscar.

No one really questioned Oscar’s continued presence in the Williams garage. Everyone knew that him and Logan had always been close so when he was spotted in the white and blue, no one batted an eye.

Not even his new teammate, who claimed to know the Aussie better than anyone else on the grid. Lando just assumed Oscar was really eager to see his friend every day. Lando didn’t consider that he saw Logan every weekend anyway and that maybe the speed with which he got to Williams might be a little too fast to just be for a close friend.

No one from Williams questioned it either. They all knew that Logan and Oscar had grown up as friends. So when Oscar seemed pretty close to one of Logan's closest friends, they didn't question it. It only made sense.

You didn’t hang around the rest of the grid very often during Oscar and Logan’s first season. You didn’t really know any of the other drivers so you, instead, spent all your time in Williams, Alex and Lily becoming fast friends of yours.

But in 2024, you started to come around more, choosing to venture out of the garage and talk more to the drivers you’d met over the past year. One of the garages you had started to frequent more was McLaren, your husband quite excited to have you in the Papaya as opposed to your usual blue.

You went to the garage purely for Oscar. But he wasn’t always the only driver hanging around. The papaya garages were often frequented by drivers from other teams. Specifically, the Ferrari drivers loved to make their presence in the garages known.

It was the Australian GP, Oscar’s home race and only the third race of the season. You’d only came over to McLaren a few times over the past three races, but you were currently occupied with Logan after his car had been taken away so you were nowhere to be seen.

Oscar was sat with his teammate in hospitality, talking about pretty much anything as they waited out the few hours they had before they had to do anything.

“Lando!” The voice of a loud Spanish man has Oscar’s face splitting into a grimace. He turns his head to see none other than Carlos Sainz making his way toward the pair in papaya, Charles Leclerc in tow behind him.

Lando grins beside him, eyes lighting up as he looks toward his friend. Lando glances down toward his teammate to assess the look on the Aussies face before he stands up and clasps Carlos on the shoulder, “Hey, Carlos!”

Oscar looks away from the two of them, gaze landing on Charles who stands awkwardly to the side. Oscar catches his eye before gesturing for him to sit down in one of the free chairs around the table the McLaren boys had been occupying . Charles smiles gratefully, happy to break the strange stance he’d been stuck in previously.

After successfully bro-ing it out, Lando and Carlos eventually sit down at the table, chairs sliding against the grown loudly as they shift around.

“How are you both feeling about the race?” Carlos asks, eyes shifting between Lando and Oscar, though his gaze does stop on the Brit.

Oscar, though, pipes up to answer the Spaniards question before Lando can, “We feel pretty good. It’s a home race so that’s always great.”

Carlos hums absently, eyes seemingly searching for something behind Oscar. Oscar glances behind him quickly to see if there’s anything worth mentioning but is met with nothing but Papaya shirts. He turns back around. Weird.

Lando seems to notice Carlos’ weird behavior as well, his eyebrows furrowing as he glances around as well before looking back to the Spaniard, “You looking for something, Carlos?”

Carlos’ eyes snap back to the curly-haired man, heat rising to his cheeks as he realizes he’s been caught, “No, nothing.”

Charles snorts from beside his teammate, sticking a hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the laugh threatening to leave his throat. Carlos glares at the Monegasque lightly, only making Charles laugh harder before Carlos leans forward to explain.

“Where is that Williams girl?” Carlos asks with a small smile and a confused look passes over Oscar’s face. Who the hell is he talking about?

Charles seems to catch the matching confusion on the McLarens face, rolling his eyes at Carlos’ blunt delivery before starting to explain himself, “Carlos in love with that girl Logan hangs around with. The one that’s always in McLaren for some reason.”

Carlos nods in agreement, leaning back in his chair with satisfaction. Oscar feels his stomach drop.

“I’m not in love with her, I just think she’s really pretty.”

Charles laughs, eyes going wide in response, “Carlos you look for her every time we’re in this garage. You’ve been asking to come over here just so you can see her.”

Lando gasps dramatically, a big grin painting his face, “And here I was, thinking you’d been coming around so you could see me!”

The other three drivers at the table laugh but Oscar stays quiet, teeth digging hard into his bottom lip. An unreasonable annoyance filled him at Carlos’ words, eyes rolling as he watches the Spaniard go on about his love for you, Oscar’s wife.

“Why’ve you never gone to Williams to look for her?” Lando interjects after a few more seconds of mindless rambling from Carlos about you. Carlos glances sideways at Charles, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

“Never wanted to bother Logan, I guess. We’re not really friends,” Carlos shrugs.

Lando tilts his head, shaking it slightly, “I’m sure Logan wouldn’t mind.”

Oscar has to stop himself from scoffing at Landos words. If only he knew how much Logan would mind.

“Yeah, I’ll go over there in a minute. Maybe I’ll actually shoot my shot this time.”

Oscar stands up suddenly, chair screeching against the floor as it pushes backward.

“Where you going, mate?” Lando goes to ask but Oscar’s already practically ran away, feet carrying him quickly toward the Williams garage.

The three drivers he’s left behind look between each other with confused faces, all having no idea what made the Aussie leave so quickly.

Oscar, though, makes it to Williams in record time. Running between employees and the like, weaving his way to Logan’s room. He slams the door open, ignoring the strange glances from Williams employees around him.

He pauses as he sees the sight in front of him, Logans head resting heavily in your lap as you run a hand through the blonds hair. The dejected look on Logans face is enough to make Oscar grimace and move quieter as he enters the room. You glance up with the concerned expression still painting your features. Logan doesn't look up, eyes closed tightly and pure distaste clearly present.

“Hey Osc,” you practically sigh, eyes shifting back down to Logan for a moment. Only after hearing your words does Logan open his eyes, looking over toward the Aussie.

“Hey guys,” Oscar says carefully, his previous reason for rushing into Williams now momentarily forgotten.

Logan mumbles under his breath and closes his eyes again, nodding at Oscar before he does. You pat his head softly and he rolls over, moving his head away from you so you can stand up and talk to Oscar.

“Whats up?” you try to smile through your obvious grimace and Oscar smiles painfully in response.

He nods his head toward Logan who's now lying face-down on the couch, “Is he okay?”

“No, not a great weekend with the whole chassis thing,” You reply, trying to keep your voice low enough so Logan doesn't hear.

Apparently you weren't quiet enough as you hear a muffled shout echo through the small room.

“Im fine!” You can barely hear through the couch cushion but he’s just audible enough.

You shake your head at Oscar, sighing deeply, “Did you need something?”

Oscar nods slightly, grasping your hand in his and pulling you out of the room and away from Logan. Not that Oscar didn’t want to support his friend but he honestly didn’t know what to say. And he was obviously okay with you leaving or he wouldn’t have rolled away from you.

“Do you wanna come back to McLaren hospitality?” Oscar asks, dragging his finger over the wedding ring sat proudly on your ring finger. You notice his attention on the ring and tilt your head slightly.

“For any specific reason?”

Oscar shakes his head innocently, trying to take any look of suspicion off his face. Though it seems you know him too well as you raise an eyebrow and tilt your head, not believing his story.

Oscar rolls his eyes, admitting defeat, “Fine. Carlos was talking about how in love with you he is and I was getting annoyed about it.”

You laugh slightly, not expecting Oscar to claim that the Spaniard was in love with you. But when you see the blush on your husband’s face, you grin softly and pull him into a hug, grasping his face in your hands, “It’s okay, Osc. I only have eyes for you, darling.”

Oscar blushes harder, letting out a small laugh as you pepper his face with kisses and he reaches up a hand to bat your face away from his.

“Come on, let’s go show Carlos what he can’t have,” You laugh, marching forward with Oscar’s hand wrapped tightly in yours. Oscar laughs, following along behind you. But he’s secretly grateful you were willing to shut Carlos’ pining down, not sure if he could take Carlos, of all people, talking about his crush on you for any longer, “Even if he’s not there I’ll still get Logan something to eat.”

You reach the McLaren hospitality quickly enough, garnering some strange looks from people around you as they see your clasped hands. But you pay them no mind, more focused on getting to the food. Oscar drags along behind you, watching as you grab two plates of food, careful not to spill as you balance the plate for both yourself and Logan. Oscar untangles your fingers from his so he can grab one of the plates out of your hand, leading you toward a table so you can eat the food you’ve grabbed for yourself.

Oscar sits across from you as you start to pick at the food lazily, stabbing a lone grape with your fork before bringing it to your mouth. You seemed to have stopped caring about the potential Carlos sighting but Oscar was on high-alert, eyes trailing over the room.

His eyes catch on a scrap of red fabric over your shoulder and he moves his chair slightly closer to you, praying the Spaniard doesn’t catch sight of you. Oscar moves his knee to knock against yours and you smile warmly through the bite of watermelon you’d just taken.

You sit peacefully for a few minutes, eating quietly as Oscar seemingly keeps watch. You don’t ask him why he couldn’t just tell Carlos you were married himself but you don’t question his motives. Men were confusing.

Both of you are surprised when a figure walks up to stand above you. You glance up and see a grumpy-looking blonde man with tousled hair and a disgruntled face looking down at the two of you, exhaustion clear in his eyes.

“Hey, lo. Gotchu food,” You say, sliding the plate toward the American. He hums, glancing around the room. Oscar watches as he sees Carlos and then looks back, glancing between the Aussie and the enemy he had decide to make today.

“Brb,” Logan mumbles with crossed arms, slinking off to a destination you can’t see. But Oscar can, and he watches as his friend slides up to a certain Ferrari driver, his usual shy attitude abandoned due to his already-shit race weekend.

Oscar takes the opportunity to fully move his chair next to yours, grasping your open hand in his, passively fiddling with your wedding ring. You roll your eyes but relax your hand in his, allowing him the chance to be as possessive as he wants.

“Hey, man,” Carlos says as Logan reaches him. Really good timing actually, he’d been wanting to talk to him about you.

Logan blinks through his tiredness, frowning at the older man, “Hey, Carlos.”

Carlos grins, deciding to stick through the poor attitude from the blonde man in front of him, having no idea just how poor this was about to go for him, “I was actually going to ask you about that friend of yours. The pretty American one you’re always with.”

Logan blinks again, glancing back toward the papaya polo sat next to you before he looks back, “Y/N?”

Carlos shrugs, smile unfaltering, “I guess so, any way you could get me her number?”

Logan chews his cheek a bit, eyes quickly switching between the ground and Carlos’ face, “Nah, man. She's taken.”

Only then does Carlos’ face falter, his eyebrows furrowing slightly with confusion, “Really?”

Logan holds back his laugh, rubbing at his eyes as he starts to lose the tiredness he'd previously had, “Yeah, yeah. Married actually.”

Carlos’ head snaps toward the Williams driver, mouth opening slightly as he shakes his head, “No way, mate. You’re joking.”

“I don’t think I am,” Logan smirks, head tilting toward where you’re sitting, “You could ask her but I don’t think he’d let you get within 10 feet after this morning.”

Logan watches as Carlos’ gaze lands on you and your husband, mouth gaping as he catches Oscar’s hands fiddling with the ring on your finger, “Shit…”

“Yeah, shit indeed,” Logan nods, starting to walk away and leave the Spaniard to revel in his shock, “Have a good race, Carlos. I won’t be seeing you out there.”

You finally look up to see Logan sit down across from you, sliding his own plate over to himself and starting to munch down on the food you’d picked for him.

Oscar raises an eyebrow as he catches the incredulous look on Carlos’ face, “What was that about?”

“Just told him you’re married,” Logan mumbles through a mouth full of strawberries, chewing passively, “Had to spell it out for him, been dropping hints for months.”

You glance toward you friend with confusion painting your face, “What do you mean?”

“Yeah, I’ve been scaring him off from Williams since last October. Don’t think he even realized I was doing it on purpose.”

You and Oscar catch eyes, small grins breaking out on your faces as Logan continues to stare intently at his snack.

“Thanks, Logan,” you smile, happy to hear about your friends committed defense of your marriage.

“Don’t thank me, I’m still in a bad mood,” he says as he stabs a grape violently, biting the green sphere with a crunch.

Oscar hums, pulling you into him and resting his head on top of yours, eyes falling closed momentarily, “Sure, Logan. Eat your food, you’ll feel better.”

Logan just replies with a stab of his fork and you laugh, relaxing against your husband behind you, grateful for the great friend you’ve got in front of you.

————————————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

[coco-loco-nut]

Iconic

pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

summary: you make it your life goal to embarrass Oscar and annoy him, keeping things fun in his life

masterlist

———————————

“He’s so cute,” a girl sighs in the McLaren fan zone.

“He really is,” you smile, leaning against the barrier.

“Oh my god, hi!” the girl gasps, recognizing you from your boyfriend’s Instagram. You haven’t had social media since you were cyber bullied in middle school, so you were a mystery to his fans. It also let you go to fan zone and have fun with them. You also run a fan page for Oscar on Instagram.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind that I am standing here?” you say, holding a folded poster in one of your hand and an arm full of friendship bracelets that Oscar helped you make.

“Not at all, oh my god. Sorry, it’s just that you are so iconic,” the girl says and you quirk your eyebrow.

“How so?”

“You don’t have social media which is iconic, but all the fans know how nice you are, and you are always hanging out with us here,” one of her friends say, you nod along.

“Of course I would be here, I gotta support Papaya boys,” you smile. “Wanna help me embarrass Osc?” you ask the group around you.

“It would legit be our honor,” the one laughs, you laugh with her.

“Here,” you take off some friendship bracelets and exchange them with the girls.

“You are the best WAG,” another girl says and you blush a little, dutifully putting on each bracelet.

“I really do try. I even run a fan account for Osc,” you laugh, not revealing more than that.

“No way, that’s actually icon behavior,” the first girl says and you grin.

“Want to see the sign?” you ask, excited to show your latest sign off. Oscar tried to look but you refused to even work on it until he left the hotel.

“Yes!” you are quick to unfold the sign. Your neat handwriting carefully placed each letter just large enough so Oscar could read it.

“Omg, I can’t wait to see his reaction,” one of the fans say, the area is brimming full now, ready for the drivers to come out in a couple minutes.

“Make sure you get pictures of his reaction, he’s so cute when he’s embarrassed,” you giggle, getting ready to hold the sign in front of you as Lando walk onto the stage, excited to see what you wrote this time. He reads it and laughs, turning towards where Oscar is entering. You watch his brows furrow as he reads it. Oscar- I want to eat you up like a pastry :). The Australian’s face turns bright red as he laughs and winks at you, trying to hide his awkward embarrassment at the pickup line. It wasn’t your best, but it was the perfect amount of cringe. Lando gives you a thumbs up from the stage.

“You were right, his face was priceless,” the fan says as you watch Oscar push back his mousy brown hair before putting the hat back on. You swear you might be drooling while watching him, but you catch his gaze falling on you too.

“I LOVE YOU OSCAR!” you yell as he waves goodbye to the fans, giving you a wink. You make sure all of your friendship bracelets are given away before thanking the fans for being cool about you chilling with them. You head back to the paddock, scanning your pass, and beelining to the McLaren motorhome.

“Y/n, can I have that sign?” Lando asks and you happily hand it over.

“As long as you don’t use it to steal my man, have at it,” you chuckle as the Brit hugs you in thanks before walking away.

“Eat me like a pastry?” Oscar gives you an amused smile. “You do know my parents watch that, right?” His favorite thing about you his your playfulness, you can be serious when needed, but your teasing and jests keep his life fun.

“Oh, I know, your mom helped me with that one, the fans loved it too,” you laugh. “You did look so hot up there,” you slightly exaggerate checking him out.

“Why don’t we go back to my drivers room and you show me how you’d like to eat me?” Oscar whispers in your ear, trying to seduce you, but you resist.

“Oh, I’d probably start with the thighs, best muscle to fat ratio in my opinion. Hm, now I’m kinda hungry, what is in hospitality?” you ask, moving towards the food area. Oscar wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you back towards him as he picks you up to carry you to his room.

“Nope, don’t start things you can’t finish,” he says, clearly a little hot and bothered.

“Osc, I’m not a cannibal, I don’t actually eat humans,” you tease, not giving up on what you started. Oscar clearly had a different interpretation, maybe the right one, maybe not.

“Shut up before I make you shut up,” Oscar growls in your ear, quickly turning you on and making you drop the joke.

“Yes, Mister Piastri,” you say, knowing it’s affect on him as he drags you into his room, locking the door behind him. Oscar was a couple minutes late to his meeting, Lando holding back giggles as Oscar walks into the room.

“I see the fans aren’t the only ones who love Y/n,” Lando whispers to Oscar, who shoots him a glare. Meanwhile, you scroll Instagram using your fan page, laughing as some of them post the pic of you and the sign, the comments calling on your to reveal yourself via the fan page. You make a post about it as well just to blend in, thirsting over Oscar as well. You can’t imagine if he ever finds out about the account.

“Good luck, Osc. Drive safe,” you kiss him before he puts his helmet on.

“I am always safe,” he gives you his usual awkward smile, you smile back as he puts his helmet on. He squeezes your hand before walking over to the car. You take a seat in the garage, the headphones unflattering as always.

Your stomach drops as there is a crash late in the race, but you are instantly relieved when you realize that Oscar made in through and no one was hurt. He ends up in P2 for the race and you join the team in celebrating at the podium.

“Thank you for being my number one fan, even when you run a secret fan account,” Oscar hugs you in his drivers room.

“How? What?” you play if off but he just laughs, pulling out his phone.

“My private account follows you,” oscar laughs, and you just stare at him.

“That’s actually you? I thought it was a fan,” you quickly pull out your phone and request to follow his account, which he immediately accepts so that you can see all the cute posts he makes about you.

“Stop, Osc, you’re basically running a fan account for me,” you say, admiring his posts, including one from today of you holding the sign. You quickly type a comment that has the other drivers replying like crazy claiming that they found your secret account.

“You two decent?” Mark Weber’s voice says through the door, after a confirmation from Oscar, he lets himself in.

“Why wouldn’t we be decent, Mark?” you ask from the couch.

“I used to be a driver too, and after your fan zone sign nothing is off the table,” Mark shrugs causing you and Oscar to blush. “Anyway, I just wanted to tell you great race, I will see you in a few days,” Mark tells Oscar before leaving the room again. You still aren’t sure how Oscar was able to bag the former F1 driver as his manager. Oscar yawns and you notice how tired he is, sleepy Oscar is your favorite version of Oscar.

“Alright, let’s get you back to the hotel, first loser,” you tease, helping him gather his things to leave.

“Hey,” he groans at the jab.

“You could be Lando NoWins, my love,” turning your jests onto his teammate.

“That is true,” Oscar yawns, holding your hand as he leads you to his chauffeured car.

“Osc, would you marry me if I was a worm?”

“Who said I’d marry you at all?”

“Alright, that’s it, I’m deleting your fan page,” you pull out your phone. Oscar basically tackles you in the back seat as he lunges for the phone.

“I take it back, I’ll marry you right now if you want,” Oscar pleads.

“Who said I wanted to marry you? Do I look like a worm?” you retort, putting your phone away. Oscar just sighs in defeat.

“God gives is strongest people his greatest challenges, I’m not strong enough for this,” he groans a few seconds later, the tiredness setting in.

“Sorry, baby, I promise you will get unlimited cuddles when we get back to the room,” you smile softly, holding his hand tight.

“I love you,” he whispers, his beautiful brown eyes gazing into your eyes.

“I love you too.”

[jamminvroomvroom]

Hey girlll I love your blog so so so much! Congrats on the 4k bc you absolutely deserve it🫶🏼

I just had a little angsty request for Charles lando or Oscar (you can pick any you’re feeling more atm, I eat up anything ab my boys)

I saw this prompt maybe you could use - - "I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't."

late night talking.

op x fem norris!reader

in which lando’s little sister has been sneaking around with his teammate, but it’s starting to have its challenges…

hiiiii thank u sm anon! love this request love you MWAH! so appreciative of this request and all of the others and that y’all trust me to bring your ideas to life!! i hope this hits the way you wanted it to! let me know what you think, big love 🤍

songs to set the mood: late night talking by harry styles, i love you by billie eilish, over my head by james marriott, if these walls could talk by 5sos

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, secret relationship, brothers teammate trope (r is lando’s sister), fingering, morning sex, angsty needy sex, lando being an embarrassing little shit

4.1k words

sex and talking. sex and talking. sex and talking.

that’s what you do, oscar and you.

you watch him all weekend, eyes trailing his lean frame, the way his body moves under papaya fabric. then, when your brother finally leaves you alone, you sneak into oscar’s arms, room, bed, whatever’s closest.

you have your way with one another, nothing untouched, unexplored, and then you talk and talk until your lips hurt from stretched out grins and a satisfying ache sets into your spent limbs. you sneak out when the sun comes up the next day and join lando for breakfast in whatever hotel you’re in that weekend.

rinse, repeat.

you can remember the first time you saw him in real life, way back in early 2023, clear as day. you were in bahrain with your brother for testing, the sun in your eyes, and there he was. awkward, stocky, hands buried deep in his mclaren administered slacks. he was littered with moles, mousey brown hair catching the rays of light, chocolate eyes conveying cool confidence that didn’t at all match up with his uncomfortable stance. you could kiss over those moles like a game of dot to dot, tug on his strands that looked like smooth chocolate frosting, sink into his brown irises until you drowned.

lando had caught you staring, sending his elbow into your ribs, and when you turned to glare at him, cuss him out, you saw a look of warning. his eyes said: don’t you fucking dare.

and you didn’t dare, not for a while at least.

-

“o-osc.” you whine, panting through the waves of eye-watering pleasure.

he’s got you laid out across his massage table, two fingers scissoring into your sodden cunt as his thumb bumps your clit in messy circles.

it’s rare that you sneak away so brazenly like this during a race weekend.

“you gotta be quiet.” oscar shushes you, eyes flitting between your own watery pair and his fingers where they’re working you open.

“trying.” you breathe, slapping your own hand over your mouth when your belly tightens one last time. one wrong move and the entirety of the hospitality suite will know. lando will know. perhaps all of china will know. that’s how good he fucking feels.

you sob into your palm, bucking your hips wildly as you fall apart, spilling all around his relentless fingers. he fucks you through it, grinning coyly as your muffled cries subside.

“c’mere.” oscar lulls, pulling you back towards him. he kisses you deeply, smiling against your lips.

“i should go.” you mumble, pushing his hair back and raking your fingers through his hair.

oscar nods apathetically, reserved all of the sudden. you frown, stealing another quick kiss. you stumble to your feet fixing your underwear and your skirt, and grab your bag from the small sofa.

“we need to be more careful.” his words make your blood run cold.

“more careful?”

you sneak in and out of hotel rooms under the cover of night, you have his name disguised in your phone, you never speak to him in public.

“this was risky.” oscar shrugs. he looks antsy, his entire demeanour changing in a matter of minutes, the ecstasy of watching you writhe all for him worn off.

“this- i- you’re the one who dragged me in here, piastri.” you accuse. ‘piastri’ is reserved for when you’re pissed off, a cagey step back from the affection ‘osc’ that you usually called him. “whatever, i’ve got to go.”

“i’ll see you later?” he poses it as a question, uncertain that you’ll show. he has never been uncertain before, not with you, not with a lot of things. bile rises in your throat, and you scoff.

you can’t reply. the door slams behind you.

-

“where’ve you been?” lando ruffles your hair, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“got bored with watching you look at data so i went for a walk.” you reply nonchalantly, pushing his hand away.

he hums in response, nodding slowly. it’s like he doesn’t quite believe you but he quickly moves on.

“you coming out with us after the race tomorrow?” lando asks.

“depends on who ‘us’ is.” you reply curtly. you don’t wanna look at oscar’s stupid, handsome face for a second longer than you have to. a familiar sadness sinks into your bones.

“couple of the drivers, alex, carlos, oh and oscar might even be swayed.” you grit your teeth, suddenly frustrated. “anyway, since when do you have beef with drivers? little miss sunshine fallen out with someone?” lando sounds confused, accusatory.

you stay silent, walking into the back of the garage, praying someone will come and steal your brother away.

“hey, you gonna tell me what the problem i-?”

“lando, we need you to look at this.” your brother gets cut off by a frantic engineer, your prayers answered, and is quickly lost to the chaos of the garage.

a pair of warm eyes burn into the side of your head. you turn to see oscar watching you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s studying you. he’s fidgeting, playing with his fingers, something strange for the man as cool as a cucumber. you look away as quickly as you can, managing to tear your eyes away from him, a lump forming in your throat which you swallow down.

it’s painful, really. sex and talking, it’s not enough, never has been for even a second. oscar piastri, australian f1 driver, number 81, quickly became your oscar, somewhat against your will.

-

somewhere in hungary, about 8 months ago

“are we really doing this, piastri?” you giggle, throwing your head back as his lips work your neck.

“need you.” he groans into your skin, low and needy. you’ve never heard him sound so disheveled, so desperate, a far cry from his usual, monotonous self.

“want you, osc.” you pant when his lips find your sweet spot, the feeling of him so delicious on your body.

“have me.” he whispers, falling into bed with you in his lap.

you lay there basking in stunned silence afterwards, a layer of sweat coating your knackered body. your shoulder is pressed flush with oscar’s, not an inch of space between you while you both stare at the ceiling, sporting matching lazy grins.

“i can’t believe we did that.” oscar mutters, a layer of disbelief in his voice.

“i think we should do it again.” you tease, except you are deadly serious.

“agreed.” he breathes.

“this stays between us, right?” you whisper, shyly.

“always.”

-

always makes your skin crawl now. you’re sick of having him in the dark, of having to avoid him in public for fear of turning into a lovesick fool. it’s embarrassing, really, unrequited love.

you can barely follow qualifying, staring blankly at the empty space in the garage where oscar’s car resides. you manage to catch the radio message through the headset you have on, the one where oscar’s muttering about a stupid mistake that’s just knocked him out. he’s limping back to the pits, licking his wounds.

you feel a pang in your chest, sympathetic and disappointed for him. you wonder what his mistake was, where his mind was. you’ll wait for the right moment, swallow the ache in your heart and your pride, and you’ll comfort him. he gets led away by frustrated engineers immediately, studying lines of data with furrowed eyebrows. you watch from afar, but then your heart sinks to your feet when four words sound through your headphones.

“lando, are you okay?”

will sounds stressed, repeating the four words that make your world stop spinning on its axis. everyone in the garage is staring at the tv screen, breaths held, stomachs tight.

your brothers car sits in tatters, carbon fibre littering the track. you can see the fluorescents of his helmet burrowed in the cockpit, still. your mouth hangs open, one hand clutching your chest, the other covering your quivering lips. you’re numb.

that feeling returns, the one of eyes burning into your weathered features. your wide eyes flit to the australian boy watching you from across the garage, and you beg silently for him to just come to you, pull you close, tell you that lando is okay and that he loves you back.

and lando is okay, his winded voice reassuring you over the radio.

but you stand there alone.

just like always.

-

somewhere in brazil, about 5 months ago

“what’s your favourite colour?” oscar mumbles lazily, lips bumping your cheekbone.

you’re curled up on his lap watching the sunset from his balcony. he was well behind lando after qualifying, and he’d craved a moment alone with you all day.

the air was thick, humid, the hot orange sun sinking far off in the horizon. you turn to face him, his features illuminated by the hazy glow. the sunlight makes his chocolate eyes sparkle warmly, so pretty.

“brown.” you whisper, scanning his face.

he laughs lowly, his chest rumbling.

“brown?” he questions teasingly.

“yep.” you grin, pecking his lips softly.

“why?”

“go look at those pretty eyes of yours in the mirror.” you retort smoothly, threading your fingers through his shower-damp strands.

“you flirting with me?”

“you bet i am.”

you twist back around, facing the view once more, moulding into his body. he kisses over your shoulder, resting his chin. you stay there content until the sun is gone and the stars twinkle.

-

the air in the room is thick, awkwardly silent.

he stands leaning against the desk, opposite where you sit on your bed. the lights are low in your hotel room, the imprint of your body still fresh against the mattress. you’d been crying when he knocked, eyes rimmed red, skin flushed raw.

“you just stood there.” you croak.

“love, i-“

“don’t call me that. please.”

hurt flashes across his features, but like he knows it’s not fair of him to complain, he buries it immediately.

“i just… will you hear me out?” oscar pleads quietly.

you nod feebly.

“it’s impossible. this, us. i wanted to go to you but i- i couldn’t, i didn’t know how that would look and i didn’t want to jeopardise this.”

“but you did.” you whisper. his face shatters, falling fast.

“no, no, i can be there when you need me-“

“but you weren’t!” you cry, your body physically sinking, your shoulders drooping.

“i can fix this, i will.”

“i think we need to stop this, osc. it’s too painful for me. i’ve tried to move past the hurt but after today…” your voice shakes and you crumble, the first tear falling.

“i’m not trying to hurt you.” he crosses the space between you in two rushed steps, collapsing to his knees before you.

“that’s not good enough.” you bite back. “i’m not going to be some guys dirty little secret. i won’t do it anymore oscar.”

“i was trying to protect you… this.” he gestures between you desperately

“i know, oscar. i know! but i never asked you to do that. i can’t love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life.” the words slip from your tongue, abrasive and messy, before your brain can catch up.

you grimace, biting your tongue, but oscar’s reaction couldn’t be further from your own. his watery eyes widen, pink lips pulling into a boyish grin.

“i don’t want to love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life either.” oscar whispers, tentatively taking your hands. you stare down at your slowly intertwining fingers, a familiar warmth oozing through your body. “i wanna love you everywhere.”

“show me.” you murmur through shaky breath.

“i will.” he leans in, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “for as long as you let me, i will.”

“just come here.” your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, one born of frustration, and longing, and a year of late night talking about everything except how much you love each other.

oscar pushes you back onto the bed, crawling over you, starving. you pull him flush against you, leaving no room between your bodies. you crave the feel of his entire weight pressing you into the mattress and as he does, you feel at home. when you pull apart, catching your breaths, he says it properly, for the first time, and the world gets lighter.

“i love you.” oscar cups your jaw, those chocolate eyes boring into yours, the intensity of it knocking you for six. “always.” he adds.

the meaning of the word changes. always doesn’t mean a shameful, taboo secret anymore. life is breathed into the six lettered word; always means you and him, together, finally out of the shadows.

“i love you, osc.” you whisper.

he’s smiling when he kisses you again, unbuttoning your blouse like he’ll die if he doesn’t get the offending item off of your frame. you retaliate by shoving his t-shirt up his back, tugging greedily at it to strip him bare. the material comes off easily and as he sits up to throw it away, you shrug off your blouse and it meets his shirt on the floor. his hands smooth over your curves, brushing the pudge of your belly as he finds the zip of your skirt, ruining the fasten in his state of haste. you barely notice the way he’s ruined the item of clothing, urgently unbuttoning his jeans. your underwear is gone too, nothing separating you but your bra, restless hands on heated skin.

“we need to be quiet.” you breathe. “lando’s next door.” oscar giggles, tinged pink.

“get on top, love.” he drawls, flipping onto his back and taking you with him.

he sits up with you in his lap, nothing anchoring either of you in the middle of the bed. the imprint of your devastated form is gone, replaced by the shape of him. you can feel the head of his cock nudging through your folds, slicking him up so that he can slide nice and deep. he trails his fingers between your legs, thumbing at your clit in deft circles, just the way he knows you like it. you’re mewling in his lap, grinding down on the pad of his thumb; it’s so good but it’s not enough.

“please, osc.” you pant, urging him to let you sink down on his cock. you can see how red it is, feel the way it throbs for you, and the need to be full of him is almost paralysing.

“come on, pretty girl. fill yourself up.” oscar mutters against the shell of your ear.

he kisses down your throat as you slide down on him, dropping your hips firm against his.

“fuck.” you cry, your forehead falling against his shoulder.

“you okay, sweetheart? feel so good for me.” oscar coos, his fingertips digging hard into your hips.

“so good, baby.” your head rolls back, feeling him hit that spot tucked away within your walls.

your breaths mingle, your breasts flush against his chest, and as if he realises that he never stripped you of your pesky bra, he grunts, unclasping the black lace and flinging it somewhere far away. he gently mumbles an awestruck “fuck”, as if he hasn’t seen your tits a million and one times before, and latches onto your nipple. his tongue works in slow circles, matching the pace of your hips working languidly on his cock, and you keen further into his body.

“prettiest girl for me.” oscar grits out, his eyes squeezing shut when you clamp down on him, hard.

you’re both trying so hard to be quiet, overwhelmed by touch and taste, love. you’re growing tired, hurtling towards a desperate release, and oscar can sense it, the feel of your quivering thighs tightening around his hips spurring him on. he grinds up into you, maintaining your pace, but he’s fucking you harder now, the anticipation of your release sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna cum for me?” oscar grunts, holding your hips down against him. you can’t move, his hold too tight and your body too tired, all you can do is wait for your orgasm to hit like a ton of bricks. you nod frantically.

“yes, oscar, please baby.” you beg for it, and like the true gentleman he is, the calloused pad of his pointer finger finds its home on your clit, sending you into an upwards spiral.

it’s as if you’re levitating when you let go, in a dreamlike state, your teeth sinking hard into his pale shoulder to muffle a surefire whine of his name. he’s rutting into you, prolonging the bliss.

“cum inside of me.” you urge, voice barely above a whisper. well, you’ve certainly never done this before.

oscar’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tears pricking his lash line. a guttural gasp of your name spills from his lips when he lets go, painting your insides warm and white. you stare at the tiny indents your teeth had left on his thick shoulder, his breath hitting the crook of your neck warm and wet as he comes down.

“‘m yours, and i’m here. i’m always gonna be here, i promise.” oscar speaks so quietly that you wonder if you’ve imagined it.

-

“when i made that mistake today, i was thinking about you.”

you’ve been laying there in silence for a while now, tucked under his arm when he speaks. you turn to look at him, perplexed.

“what?”

“i felt so awful about what i said after we, you know. you looked so upset with me, and i don’t blame you.” oscar sighs.

“i just don’t want to feel like a shameful secret, osc.” you tell him quietly, the words heavy on your tongue.

“you won’t, not anymore. ‘m so sorry, sweetheart.” he lulls, kissing over your hairline.

“how do we make this work? and how are we ever gonna explain this to-“

“lando.” oscar cuts you off, shifting uncomfortable. “he’s going to murder me and my entire bloodline.” he chuckles nervously.

“he won’t murder you. he might put you in a gravel trap, though.” you roll onto your side, smiling teasingly up at him and he rolls his eyes.

“i’ll take the heat. you’re worth it.”

-

“promise me.” you pant, his hips grinding into you. you’re curled into his chest, still spooning and barely awake. he’d woken up needy, and you were even needier, the faint glow of early morning sunshine washing over you through a crack in the beige curtains.

“anything.” oscar stutters, his breath warm against the back of your neck. his nose bumps your skin, teeth scraping the shell of your ear.

you stop meeting his thrusts. he whines low, wordlessly pleading for you to resume. he ruts his hips against your ass, chasing friction.

“tell me it’s all gonna be different now.”

“i already told you, i-“ oscar grunts.

“promise me.” you purposely clamp down on him, a hiss sounding from between his gritted teeth.

“promise, i promise, i love you.”

you giggle, rocking your hips again, fucking yourself onto him once more.

“i know.”

“you gonna let me off the hook?” oscar pants in your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth.

“still gotta prove yourself, piastri.” you moan.

he feels deeper like this and he knows it, revelling in the way he’s filled you up so perfectly. he rolls into you slowly, sliding against each and every spot that makes you squirm. you drop your guard, going limp in his arms to let him finish you off.

“you nearly there, sweetheart? you gonna cum for me, love?” his accents thickens in the mornings, husky and intoxicating. you fall apart, then, and he stays buried inside of you, the only sounds in the room your matching heavy breathing.

“i need you to get dressed.” oscar kisses your cheek.

“kicking me out already?” you feign offence, looking at him over your shoulder.

his fingers come to cup your chin, his forehead resting against yours.

“there’s something we gotta do.”

-

you’re wearing your skirt from the day before, the waistband rolled over to make up for the oscar-destroyed zipper. his hoodie that you’ve stolen almost completely covers the short skirt, and your messy hair and poorly removed makeup don’t do much to convince anyone that you’d actually slept in your own room last night.

still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t really comprehend where oscar is leading you, but when the elevator dings, signalling that you’ve reached the restaurant floor, you’re suddenly painfully awake. time seems to move in slow motion, your tummy twisting as you realise what’s about to happen.

ahead of you, tucked into the corner of the restaurant is your brother, jon, and ashley. lando is already draped in team kit, the papaya of his hoodie blaring obnoxiously for once, a warning sign.

“oscar, what-“

“i’m doing this.” he affirms, speeding up his stride.

oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god.

your heart speeds up, dropping to the pit in your belly when lando notices you, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in the bewildering sight before him. his baby sister, disheveled and wide-eyed, and his teammate holding her hand, on a mission.

“what the fuck am i looking at?” lando doesn’t sound angry, per say, more perplexed than anything. there is an edge to his voice that you don’t particularly like, but he hasn’t started swinging yet, you suppose.

“i’m in love with your sister. like, for real. you deserve to know that.” oscar says confidently, somewhat monotonously.

lando opens his mouth, closes it. opens it again, closes it. he repeats the process a few more times, going through the motions of an emotional rollercoaster.

but then, he sighs deeply, a grin of disbelief stretching across his face. jon bangs on the table excitedly, and ash is shaking his head.

“you owe us so much money.” jon laughs, his head tipping back.

“pay up, boss.” ash sticks his hand out expectantly, smirking across the table.

“what… what?” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes in confusion.

“i didn’t wanna believe them.” lando shrugs.

“don’t blame you.” oscar chimes in, and you stare between the two mclaren drivers in bewilderment.

“are you okay with this?” you question, staring your brother in the eyes, still a bit disoriented by the entire situation. his face softens, a genuine smile lingering small on his lips.

“if you’re happy, i’ll make my peace with it.” lando’s eyes flit between you and oscar.

all of the sudden, a look of horror crosses his face, and his voice turns stern.

“but,” he inhales shakily. “if i ever, ever, hear again what i think i heard last night,” he glares at oscar, pointing one firm finger at the australian, who stands up a bit straighter. “you’re dead, piastri.”

jon and ash bite back giggles at the empty threat, and you take it upon yourself to put an end to the situation before it gets any more awkward.

“well, on that note!” you sing-song, dragging oscar away.

“and make sure you’re using protection!” lando calls out, panic stricken, big brother mode activated.

“oh my god.” you blush dark pink, speeding up, the elevator in your sights.

“that went well.” oscar quips sarcastically. he looks rather happy with himself.

you kiss him as soon as the metal doors shut.

-

you do go out after the race, but for once it’s not to drink away the memories of a weekend in oscar’s arms. this time, it’s to celebrate the fact that you can love him out loud, and he’ll do the same right back.

you’re dancing in his arms, bright lights in shades of blues and purples streaming over your bodies. oscar holds you close, keeps you wrapped in his arms, despite the shock on the faces of others at the sight of lando norris’s baby sister publicly besotted with his teammate.

when oscar kisses you deep, smiling against your lips that taste like cherry liquor, you know that this last year of your life wasn’t in vain.

you and oscar, you’re built to last.

-

“how did you not see it, mate?” charles beams, crinkles by his eyes from the wide smile he’s sporting. he’s clearly drunk, but lando is too.

it appears he’s clocked the brits sister and her australian suitor on the dance floor.

the monagasque has rocked up to the bar with alex and pierre in tow, the three of them slapping lando on the back as they arrive.

“i guess there were signs.” lando shrugs, dragging his finger over the rim of the crystal glass.

“signs? mate it was obvious.” pierre chuckles, pushing lando’s shoulder.

“wait, you all knew?” lando splutters.

yeah. duh. come on, man.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s funnier.” charles… winks? it’s hard to tell with him.

lando finds you in the crowd, grinning up at oscar like he hung the stars in the sky. the younger mclaren driver returns your look, and it sparks warmth in lando’s chest.

you’re gonna be okay.

-

hehe

-

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[theemporium]

[1.7k] an early morning birthday treat for your boyfriend hours before the rest of the world needs either of you. (smut)

we are gonna ignore the fact i accidentally hit the post limit yesterday and pretend i actually posted this on his birthday

.

“Good morning, birthday boy.” 

Oscar let out a small hum of acknowledgement, a small smile working its way onto his face but he didn’t bother opening his eyes. Instead, he wound his arm around your waist and tugged you down until you were collapsing down on his chest. He sighed happily, nuzzling himself further against you whilst you wiggled in his embrace. 

“You’re ruining your birthday,” you commented, trying to nudge his arm away so you could sit back up. But Oscar didn’t budge a bit.

“It’s my birthday,” he grumbled, his voice still laced with sleep and his accent coating his slurred words a little thicker than normal. “I get to choose what we do and I choose sleeping.”

“That’s boring,” you retorted, twisting in his hold until you were facing him. You reached a hand out, pushing his hair back until you got an unrestricted view of his face squished against the pillow. 

“I happen to like boring birthdays.” 

You snorted, smiling fondly as you leaned down to press a kiss on the tip of his slightly scrunched nose. “You’re not even going to ask what I planned?” 

“If it includes leaving this bed before I have to head to the track, then I’m not interested,” Oscar mumbled, letting out a sigh as your nails began to scratch along his scalp. “I’m quite happy here. Very content. Very happy birthday boy.”

“And if I said your birthday plans start in bed?” 

Oscar paused for a moment. “I’m listening.”

You grinned, lightly poking his cheek until his eyes slowly fluttered open. “Hey.”

He flashed you a lazy smile. “Hi, baby.”

“Happy birthday,” you murmured before you leaned down, pressing a soft but lingering kiss on his lips. 

“Definitely happy,” he hummed in response, huffing a little when you pushed his shoulder so he was lying on his back. “You’re awfully bossy this morning.”

“You like it,” you teased, throwing one leg over his body until you were settled on his lap. In seconds, his hands were on your waist like the reaction was instinctive. 

“Maybe,” he replied, though the light pink painting his cheeks gave him away. His thumbs lightly swiped along your hip bones, slowly pushing the material of your (his) shirt up until he was met with bare skin. “I have to be at the track by ten.”

“It’s only seven,” you retorted.

“That means we could have had a solid two more hours of sleep,” he pointed out, his eyes still a bit bleary from sleep. He was just grateful enough that one of you remembered to pull the curtains shut last night. “You know, cuddling is good for dopamine and stuff.”

Your lips twitched. “Dopamine and stuff?”

“You woke me up five minutes ago, give me a break,” Oscar grumbled, squeezing your hips to emphasise his point. 

“I know something else that would be good for your dopamine and stuff,” you said, grinning a little as you leaned down to peck his lips. “Something for the birthday boy.”

“You keep saying that but—oh shit.”

You watched his eyes flutter shut, his grip on you tightening as you rolled your hips against his. You ducked your head down, lips pressing chaste, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw and neck as you felt his skin flush under your touch. You felt his thumping pulse pounding, could feel the way his body was reacting to you. 

It was fucking intoxicating. 

“Do you still wanna go back to sleep?” You questioned, your voice teasing and a little patronising as you nipped the skin just below his ear.

“Nuh uh,” he breathed out, shaking his head in response. “This is good. This is better.”

You grinned against his skin.

And maybe it was still-half-asleep brain or maybe Oscar just didn’t want to assume, but he wasn’t really expecting more. It was still painfully early for either of you to be awake right now, especially considering how late you had managed to get to the hotel. And he was honestly more than happy to have this, to have his girl on top of him. To have your hands and your lips and your pretty words. To just have you. 

He wasn’t thinking about where it was leading, he was just stuck in the present moment of you, you, you.

His brain hadn’t even fully caught up until your kisses started moving lower, until a few chaste kisses along his collarbone started to move further down his chest. 

“Babe,” he rasped, his head still a little fuzzy with sleep as your breath fanned over the muscles of his stomach.

“Shhh, relax f’me, Osc,” you murmured between soft kisses, fingers tugging the edge of his boxers down as the urge to mark along his v-line overwhelmed you. 

“I—” But the words were lost in the back of his throat as the heel of your palm pressed against the bulge in his boxers, your lips mouthing at the sensitive skin along his hips. 

His eyes fell shut, his head digging back into the pillow as he let himself enjoy every single inch of his body that was being touched by you. The way his hips bucked against your hand, the front of the fabric already wet and stained with precome as you marked pretty bruises on his pale skin. The way your body settled between his thick thighs, nails grazing along his skin until he was squirming and whining underneath you. The way every cell in his body was just so, so responsive to you. 

A guttural moan escaped the back of his throat as you mouthed along his clothed cock, licking a thick strip over the fabric of his boxers as he helplessly buckled beneath your touch. He didn’t think a single thought in his head was about anything but you. He didn’t think he wanted to think about anything else but you. 

Your fingers curled around the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs and throwing them somewhere off the edge of the bed, neither one of you all too bothered where it landed. Instead, you took his hard cock in your hand, not wasting a second before you sucked the tip in your mouth, lapping at the small beads of precome that were already leaking.

“Shit, shit, shit,” he breathed out, his hips bucking further into your mouth but your other hand kept his body planted on the mattress. 

He was fucking helpess. 

He was fucking helpess and he didn’t give two shits about anything other than you. 

There was a vague voice in the back of his head reminding him that it was early, that they had neighbours, that those neighbours were colleagues of his. But it was a passing thought at best for Oscar as he squirmed and wiggled and writhed beneath your touch. It was a problem for future Oscar to deal with. 

And it wasn’t often Oscar was vocal, not like this. But he was sleepy and caught off-guard and, fuck, your mouth just felt like heaven wrapped around his cock. He couldn’t help himself with the whimpers and moans he let out, your name like a mantra as it left his lips on a broken loop. 

Because Oscar Piastri was a weak man when it came to you. 

And when he lifted his head off the pillow to finally look down at you, he about lost whatever semblance of control he had left.

Your hands were placed on his thighs, your nails digging into his skin but the pain was biting and welcomed. Your cheeks were hallowed around his dick, a mix of come and drool leaking from the edges but it just made his stomach twist with a deep desire that he knew would haunt his fantasies for months to come. Your lips were red and swollen, your eyes were glossy and hooded and, fucking hell, the second he met your gaze, it was over for him. 

His hands were gripping the sheets of the duvet beneath him as he came, the pleasure white and hot and overwhelming in every sense of the word. He felt it all over like a hot flush, dancing along his nerve endings and racing down his spine as his body bucked upwards to be closer to you, your mouth, your everything. He was distantly aware of the little whiny noises he made as he came, the ones that were half muffled as he buried his face into his pillow as his orgasm washed over him whilst you lapped at his sensitive cock. 

He couldn’t really find it in himself to be embarrassed when he finally turned back to look at you, seeing you slowly lick your fingers clean from the cum that had leaked out your mouth with a huge grin on your face.

“You’re a menace,” was all he managed to breathe out, throwing his arm over his face to try and recover from mind blowing orgasm and the sight of you shamelessly tasting him. 

“Happy birthday,” you replied cheerfully, crawling back up the bed until you could press a chaste kiss on his cheek before nuzzling yourself against him. “Good start to twenty-three?”

He huffed out a laugh. “I think you might’ve killed me.”

“At least you died young, pretty and satisfied,” you joked, feeling his chest rumble beneath you and it made your stomach twist with something quite like delight. 

“And in love,” he added, his words a little slurred and his cheeks burning a little at his own cheesiness. But it still made you grin.

“I love you too, Osc,” you murmured back.

“I was talking about those sushi rolls we had last night, but yeah I love you too,” he murmured, letting out a short pained noise when you pinched his side. “Ow! What happened to birthday boy privileges?”

“Those ended with the blowjob,” you retorted. “You’re back to normal Oscar now.”

“Hm, that seems a little unfair,” Oscar commented as he wound his arms around your body, hugging you close to his chest like the two of you could melt into one person. 

“Tragic life of being twenty-three,” you teased.

Oscar smiled. “Thank you, seriously.” 

You laughed, lifting your head to look at him. “Did you just thank me for a blowjob?”

The sleepy smile returned. “Yeah, pretty sure I just did.”

“Never beating the polite cat allegations,” you said, lighthearted and sweet and joking as you leaned down to kiss him. “Never change, birthday boy.”

“Never in a million years, baby.” 

.

[arieslost]

talk | op81

summary: oscar loves to talk your ear off.

word count: 1,276

masterlist — join my tag list here!

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

everyone who had told you that oscar piastri wasn’t much of a talker was a bold-faced liar.

that, or maybe they just never got to see that side of him.

before you started dating oscar, you totally believed it. the first few interactions the two of you had were awkward and brief, usually ending in you thinking that he actually hated you and only engaged in small talk to be nice.

the oscar you know now is nothing like the oscar you first met, and even though you’ve been with him for the better part of two years, his ability to talk for hours is still as shocking to you as it was in the beginning.

it started out innocently enough. the first time you hadn’t been able to attend a race, oscar called you the moment he was back in his hotel room. you’d only been dating for five months at that point, and you vividly remember your shock when you accepted the facetime call and he started talking at a mile a minute. you’d barely gotten out a “hello” before he started recapping his entire day in precise detail. he didn’t even stop to take a drink of water in his enthusiasm.

that turned into the two of you developing a routine. every time you couldn’t make it to a race, oscar would call you at the end of the day and tell you everything he’d been dying to tell you.

“you could text me some of this stuff, you know,” you told him once, and he had wrinkled his nose cutely.

“why would i text it to you when i can just tell you about it on the phone?” he’d responded, like your suggestion was completely outlandish.

it’s endearing, really, the way he’s always so excited every time you pick up the phone. like he is right now.

“hi, honey!” he says brightly the moment the call connects and you can see each other’s faces.

“hey, oz,” you smile, your mood immediately lifting at the sound of his voice. “how was your day?”

“oh, i have so much to tell you,” he leans forward, his hair obscuring the camera for a moment before he leans back with a piece of paper in his hand.

“what is that?” you ask, watching as he unfolds it.

“this, my love, is my list.” he says, turning it around so you can see the way the page is full of his writing, not only on the lines but in the margins, too. “if i can read my own handwriting.”

“busy day?” you pull the hood of your sweatshirt further over your head so it covers more of your screen.

“you have no idea. i don’t even know where to start.” he sighs, eyes scanning the paper before he looks back up at the camera. “but i want to hear about your day first.”

“ah, it was okay. boring. i got so used to traveling around with you that i don’t know what to do now that i’m home all by myself.” it’s a lie, of course.

you wouldn’t miss oscar’s birthday for the world, and that was why you’d been so believable when you told him that you were so sorry, but you couldn’t make it to japan for the next race. even thinking about not being with him for his birthday was enough to upset you, so he bought it easily. conspiring with mark and lando, you’d gotten your hands on a plane ticket and formed a plan to get to the hotel with oscar being none the wiser.

which is how you’re here, at the end of the hallway on his hotel floor, waiting for the perfect time to interject.

“oh, i have to tell you about how free practice went, the second session, not the first,” he’s saying, squinting a little at the paper. “i wrote it over something else and i can’t see what it says. whatever. anyway, it’s raining here, and, like, half the cars didn’t end up going out for the second session. i was just trying to do my best for the session but i ended up setting the fastest lap! i didn’t even know until i got out of the car. did you watch? i don’t know if you did, i forgot to ask you, but i think it was a 1:34 or something like that. i could’ve been faster, obviously, but it was raining. its still raining right now actually which kind of sucks. i wouldn’t mind if you were here, but it’s just miserable and cold.” he pauses to take a breath. “wait, where are you?”

well that you weren’t expecting. “at home… where else would i be?” you reply, hoping that your confusion looks genuine.

“your background looks… i dunno.” he presses his lips together. “doesn’t look the same.”

“well, i’m at home,” you repeat, trying to come up with something on the fly. “pretending that i’m talking to you face to face instead of through the phone, like always.”

“ah, yeah. i do that all the time,” he admits, giving up on his scrutinization of what little he can see behind your hood.

“i miss you,” he says then, and its absolute hell knowing you can’t knock on his door just yet.

“i miss you too, oz.” you whisper. “keep telling me about your day?”

“sure, honey.” he gives you a soft smile, once again consulting his piece of paper. “so after the second session, i went and got dinner— oh wait, i forgot to tell you what happened earlier! i left the hotel room—”

you were hoping to let him tire himself out a bit from talking so much before approaching the door, but with every little detail of his day he shares you wish more and more that he was saying it directly to you and not through the phone, so you give up on being patient and knock three times.

“hold on, baby. someone’s at the door.” he says on the other end of the call, getting up from where he’s sitting on the bed and leaving his phone behind, so you end the call to free both of your hands.

the look on his face when he opens the door is priceless. “you’re joking.”

“i figured you should tell me the rest in person,” you say. “besides, i’d be damned if i missed your birthday.”

“you’re joking,” he repeats, pulling you and your suitcase into the room and wrapping you into a tight hug. “you’re actually here.”

“of course i’m here.” you laugh, kissing his shoulder through the loose material of his worn out t-shirt. “i don’t want to be anywhere else but here.”

“i’m so happy,” is all your enthusiastic, talkative boyfriend says before kissing you, smiling against your lips the whole time.

“you hung up on me?” its the first thing he says once the two of you are cuddled up in bed, and your jaw drops.

“seriously? i’m right here, and you’re gonna come for me for hanging up on you?”

“i would never hang up on you, but whatever,” he rolls his eyes, but cuddles you closer all the same. “okay, you have to know what lando told me last night about this one thing he did over winter break. it doesn’t sound bad at first, but i promise you it gets so much worse.”

you sigh in content, happier than anything to be in oscar’s arms and listening to him talk your ear off for the foreseeable future. you would never lie about it— you don’t want to be anywhere else but here, with him.

note: happy oscar dayyy!! wishing my fellow aries the best birthday ever and i hope you all enjoyed this 🫶🏼 i low key hate it but hopefully that’s just me lolz

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @lightsoutletsgo

[lqvesoph]

She’s WHOSE daughter?? || LN4

lando norris x webber!reader

summary: After finding out who your father is, Lando needs some time for himself to think about everything. Oscar is more than willing to help make things right between you.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5

masterlist | taglist

Part 4

dad: What’s going on with you and Lando?

You: What do you mean?

dad: Your Instagram

dad: And I saw you in the paddock together

dad: That hug looked a little too intimate for friends

You swallowed hard before turning your phone off, chosing to ignore the messages and focus on Lando who just walked back into the garage, the debrief was done.

"We gotta talk", he stated, pushing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.

You nodded, wanting to follow him back up to his driver’s room when suddenly an all too familiar voice called your name.

"Y/n, don’t you think you should introduce us?", your father asked, sitting at one of the tables with Oscar’s parents. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at your father’s teasing. Lando and him knew each other, obviously they’ve seen each other quite a few times in the paddock, especially because he was Oscar’s manager.

"Y/n, sweetheart, how are you doing?", Oscar’s mum asked with a genuine smile, making a small smile appear on your face as well as you replied.

"I’m good, thank you."

Lando eyed you from the side as you stepped closer to your father.

"Dad, Lando. Lando, my dad", you dryly spoke. Lando’s eyes went from you to your dad, giving him a small smile and a nod before looking back at you. "If you excuse us but we have to go", you said, waving at Oscar’s parents and turning your back to the table.

You waited on the couch while Lando closed the door to his driver room.

"Why didn’t you tell me?", he immediately questioned, leaning against the locked door. "I never tell people about my father because it happened too often that they weren’t there for me but for him", you started, fiddling with your hands.

"Not me and I thought you would have figured that. I knew your father, I’ve met him a few times", Lando argued. "What was I supposed to say, Lando?", you raised your voice a little. "We met in Bahrain but didn’t have much contact after that until this week, I couldn’t just go like 'Oh and by the way Mark Webber is my dad'!"

"You could’ve told me", he muttered quietly. "You could’ve told me in Bahrain when I asked about how you know Daniel or at the beach when I asked about your dad’s work."

"It just never felt right", you tried to defend yourself. "Bahrain was just too early and at the beach I sort of panicked, I don’t know", you muttered, realizing you really didn’t know why you haven’t told him until now.

"I need some time", Lando said after a few moments. You nodded and watched as he unlocked the door, leaving the room and probably the track for the day.

*~**~*

"So, what made Lando storm out of here like that?", your dad asked when you gathered yourself and finally made your way downstairs.

"I don’t wanna walk about it", you grumbled, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Just then Oscar walked down the stairs, his eyes widened when he spotted you. "Princess, I’m sorry! I really am!", he immediately said, walking closer to you.

"I didn’t know that he didn’t know but I should have known and I’m sorry", your best friend apologized and wrapped you in a hug. "Don’t be, Oscar. It’s my fault anyway. I should’ve told him. I don’t know why I didn’t", you muttered, your voice sounding muffled from being pressed into Oscar’s shoulder.

"Still. I feel bad", he huffed, pulling back from the hug to look at you. "Where is he?"

You shrugged and looked away from Oscar. "I don’t know, probably went back to the hotel", you replied. "Mark how long do you plan on staying because I could take Y/n back to her hotel", he then turned to your father.

"Oh, I was actually just waiting for her", your dad replied, standing up from the table. "You ready?"

You nodded and turned around to Oscar’s parents, saying goodbye and telling them to meet again tomorrow at the race.

Oscar gave you another tight hug before waving at your dad and letting the two of you go.

"You ready to go as well?", Lily asked, grabbing his hand. Oscar nodded. "Yeah but I need to make a quick stop somewhere before we go home."

*~**~*

Just thirty minutes later, Oscar knocked on the door of one of Hilton’s hotel rooms.

"What on earth are you doing here? I thought you sleep at home", Lando muttered when he opened the door and saw his teammate standing there.

"Let me in?", Oscar just asked, lifting one eyebrow. Lando nodded silently and took a step to the side to let Oscar enter the room.

"She’s really sorry", he spoke as soon as the door had closed. Lando shut his eyes and crossed his arms. "Please, Oscar-"

"She knows she screwed up and said herself she doesn’t actually know or have reasons why she didn’t tell you", Oscar ignored his teammates protest. "She’s never been good with trusting people, so many having screwed her over just to get a chance to meet her dad-" "But I know her dad-" "And that left scars", Oscar continued. "She went into panic mode when you asked about her dad. She never likes being associated with him. She loves him to death but hates it when someone brings him up when talking about her achievements, or in general, when talking about her. She doesn’t just want to be Mark Webber’s daughter but her own person and she really really likes you!"

Lando stayed silent for a moment.

"Talk to her, please?", Oscar then quietly asked, searching for anything in Lando’s eyes that would give him some sort of confirmation.

The British driver blinked a few times, uncrossed his arms and took a deep sigh. "I will, tomorrow", he muttered, bringing a smile to Oscar’s face.

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[slutforln4]

ALL MINE

🖇️ in which your drunk best friend turns into something more, perhaps?

🖇️ request from a lovely anon! had to wreck my brain on how to write it haha. send in an ask to lmk how i did!

🖇️ warnings: 18+ MDNI !! this is an nsfw work. its also 3.1k words long...

🖇️ lando norris x reader

It’s nearly two a.m. when you get woken up by a spam of messages from none other than your best friend, Lando.

Lando: Heeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyy

Lando: Could uou please come pcik me up?

Lando: I’n a bit drunk hahaha

You giggle at his misspelt messages and type up a quick reply as you tug on a sweatshirt and sweatpants.

You: Yeah, where are you?

Lando: You jnow the club with the huge dj table? The one I love?

You: Be there in 10.

Lando: thank youuuuu ❤️

It’s a little silly how a red heart emoji is making you blush. Lando’s always been affectionate over text and in real life, so it's really nothing new. But, what definitely is new, are the feelings you have for him.

It took you three years of friendship to realise that Lando makes you feel happier and more loved than any of your ex-boyfriends ever did. He was there for you during all the break-ups and comforted you by delivering roses to your house every week. And he still does.

You look over at this week’s bouquet of roses on the bedside table of the hotel and smile at the note. ‘Much love, Lando.’ It reads, with the sloppiest yet cutest heart you could imagine drawn underneath it.

Lando’s always been affectionate, but maybe more so when it comes to you.

Everyone else on the grid noticed the way he looked at you and he never denied it when they asked if he liked you more than just a friend. You’d sit in a corner of the garage, tucked away from all the chaos of the mechanics and the roaring engines, but you’d still watch the races intensely. And, he’d be lying if he said that he wasn't doing better with you there.

When you’re on the paddock, it's almost like you’re Lando’s good luck charm. He ends up getting high spots on the pole each time you join him on the races and watch from the side. Or maybe it was the thought that when he finished the races, you'd be there waiting for him with your arms wide open to embrace him in a hug that felt like it wasn't platonic at all. Neither of you are sure if it was.

The cold night air hits your cheeks as soon as you leave your car. Maybe it wasn't the best decision to wear sweats to a club, but it's not like you’d be there for long. You text Lando that you’re there and wait for him to read the message, but he doesn't. You text Oscar, he replies in an instant.

You: Hey, are you at the club with Lando?

Oscar: Yes, he’s been whining for you. Are you here?

You: Yeah, I’m outside the club actually. Could you please ask him to come outside?

Oscar: Give him 5 minutes to gather his stuff.

You: Alright, thank you.

You nervously clutch your phone in your hand as you lean against your car. Something feels different about tonight. Sure, you were at the race and saw him kick ass out there. Maybe it was the fact that he placed fifth and was beating himself up for it.

Back at the hotel, before he left for the club, he was ranting to you about everything he could’ve done differently.

“I’m stupid,” he sighed, sitting down on the bed next to you and placing his head in his hands. “Could’ve been P3.”

“Hey,” you softly caressed his back as you spoke. “You were amazing out there, truly. It wouldn't take a genius to notice the potential you have. This year just wasn't your year, you’ll do better next season.”

By the end of your speech, Lando had pulled you into his lap and softly caressed your hair as you played with his. “You’re right.” He smiled, fondly. “I’ll do better next season, because I have such an amazing girl like you by my side, hm?” He softly caressed your cheek and you nodded, smiling at him.

Your thoughts get cut off by the sound of Lando and Oscar talking as they leave the club. “Mate, I’m fineeee,” you heard Lando speak. He had an arm around Oscar’s shoulders to keep steady, yet was practically carried by Oscar the whole time.

“No, you’re not, you can barely walk.” You see Oscar roll his eyes as he helps Lando get to you. When Lando’s glossy eyes land on you, he grins.

“Y/N!” He exclaims, wrapping his arms around you. You reciprocate the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck and inhaling the familiar scent of your best friend. As intoxicating as it is, you manage to pull away slightly. “Why didn't you come inside? Max was downing shots like craaaazyyyyy”

“Maybe next time,” you laugh.

Lando pulls away and turns to Oscar. “This guy,” he points to him, causing a confused look on Oscar’s face. “He’s the real champ.” Lando laughs, wobbling over to Oscar. “Great job, mate. I’m very jealous and upset, but you did so great.”

“You also did really great, Lando.” Oscar smiles at Lando, “McLaren said you’ve had a great impact on the team.”

“Aw, really?” Lando grins and it warms your heart. “That’s so sweet. Listen, I will catch you later, I got a pretty girl I gotta get to, alright?”

Oscar nods and locks eyes with you, noticing the slight blush on your face at Lando’s words. “Alright, mate. Night.” He says to the both of you.

“Night, Oscar,” you and Lando reply in union and he laughs. You open the passenger door for him and he gets in, but instead of buckling up, he just sits there. “Buckle up, Lan.”

“Sleepy,” is all he says. You roll your eyes and smile at his laziness before reaching over and buckling him up. You have to try your best and ignore how his face is so close to your neck, and how you’re so close to his neck. The button-up he wore today was half-way to being fully unbuttoned and the mere glimpse of his exposed chest made you weak in the knees. “You smell nice.”

“Thanks, Lan.” You smile and start the car, driving back towards the hotel. There’s an unexpected silence in the car and you can feel Lando’s gaze on you. After looking at the rear-view mirror and seeing just how red he made you, you pray he’s too drunk to tell.

You feel his gentle tug on the sleeve of your sweatshirt. “This mine?”

You look down and realise you did, in fact, put on Lando’s sweatshirt instead of your own. “Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry. Probably mixed yours up with mine.”

“No, it's alright,” he hums. “Looks better on you. I like you in my clothes.”

You’re sure that if Lando wasn't wasted right now, he’d be giving you so much shit for being a flustered mess. But you can't help it when he’s being so sweet to you.

The hotel comes into view and you look over at Lando. He was already looking at you. “We’re here.”

He unfastens his seatbelt and opens the door, before making his way around the car to open your door. Even though he’s drunk, he remembers the little things he does for you. You’ve told him multiple times that he doesn't have to do that, you’re fully capable of opening your own door, but he persists.

Lando’s hand reaches out to help you get out of the car and the warmth of his palm in yours sends sparks through your body. He seems to notice it, but says nothing about it. Yet you notice the slight smirk on his face.

He seems to be less drunk than when he was with Oscar. He walks just fine without needing to support himself on you, but regardless, he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you into the hotel.

“Don’t you need help walking?” You laugh, slightly, as you remind him of what he was like only ten minutes ago.

“Nope,” Lando shrugs, reciprocating the smile on your lips. “Had to pretend to be very wasted so I’d have a reason to leave. I’m still a little tipsy, though.”

“And Oscar bought it?”

Lando can't help but laugh at the memory of Oscar practically dragging him out of the club. “Yeah, apparently he’s very gullible.”

You smile, looking at Lando’s face and studying every feature. The moles on his cheek and neck have always been your favourite feature of his. You love drawing shapes on his skin, as if you were connecting the dots. And that smile of his... The sight of it made you melt.

The elevator dings at your floor and Lando leads both of you towards your room. For some reason, you grow nervous. You’re nervous that this affection won’t be there when he sobers up in the morning, so you’re dreading every second until you go to sleep.

“Did you like the roses?” He asks, setting his stuff down on his bedside table.

You look over at him and smile. “Loved them. Thank you.”

“No need,” he’s quick to shut down your thanks. “I told you, you deserve it.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been sending me roses every week for months now,” you tug off your sweatshirt and get dressed for bed. Lando watches. “I don't do things like that for you, it makes me feel like it's unfair.”

“It's not unfair,” he lays down in the bed, watching as you carefully take off his sweats and place them in your suitcase. “It’s what friends do.”

“Is it?” You ask with a small smirk, getting into the bed. “Do friends also share a bed?”

“If it's cheaper, yeah.” He references the prices of the hotel and how expensive it would’ve been if you had gotten a room with two beds instead of one.

You look at him with a soft smile. “You’re rich enough to afford a bigger hotel room.”

“Are you complaining about sharing a bed?” Lando raises a brow, playfully. You shake your head. “Alright, then come here,” he raises his arm and invites you to cuddle with him. Again, not the first time you’ve done that, but something about this time feels different.

There’s something different about you when you lay your head on his chest and something different about him when he wraps his arm around you. It’s a lot more gentle. Maybe more loving?

Lando wonders the same. “Do you think friends cuddle?”

You can tell it's his tipsiness talking, but still, you reply. “Yeah, all the time.”

You feel his chest rise with a sigh. Lando’s not sure what he wants you to say. Maybe he’s looking for a reason not to be platonic with you. Maybe he’s looking for things that you two do that aren't considered platonic. Though, many would consider this not platonic. The way he’s wrapped around you is incredibly loving, if anything.

Neither of you are sure when you started doing not-so-platonic platonic things, but you’ve been enjoying it. The occasional nicknames, forehead kisses, hugs that last longer than they should, cuddles, longing stares across a crowded room.

Somehow, you always manage to find each other, even in a sea of others.

“Lando,” you look up at him and notice he was already looking at you. You’re not sure what you want to say to him. There’s so much to say, yet so little comes to mind. One look at him and all your thoughts, even the most coherent ones, become a jumbled mess.

Lando presses a kiss into your hairline. “Hm?”

You don't answer for a while. The hand that was resting draped across his torso slowly trails up to his jaw. Your fingers trace his jawbone and trail up to his moles, playing connect the dots with each and every one of them. Lando’s breathing became more jagged when your thumb traced his bottom lip.

As your hand cups the right side of his jaw, you ask.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

That’s all that it took. The soft plea that left Lando’s soft lips urged you to gently place your own against his. You don't move at first. He doesn't either. Your lips stay touching but neither of you move, either too scared of being pushy or too scared to take it too far.

Lando’s the first one to initiate any movement. His lips start moving against yours and your lips copy. It doesn't take long for you to find a good rhythm. Everyone always says you two were made for each other, and this was the moment you realised it’s true.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and his hands travel to your waist. There’s nothing awkward about this, you somehow already know what to do and how to act in a way that’s far from your usual ‘platonic’ acts.

When you softly tug on his hair as you deepen the kiss, Lando whimpers into your mouth and it might be your favourite sound. “Touch me,” he says, under his breath.

Your hand trails down from his hair, down his back, making sure to softly caress it as it reaches the hemline of his boxers. Your hand softly runs over his side, making his skin erupt in goosebumps. “Still ticklish, Norris?” You smile against his lips.

“Mhm,” he replies, his hands pulling your hips to roll against his. You feel his erection pressing onto your pelvis, making the ache in the pit of your stomach worse. “Now stop teasing me.”

The hunger in his voice makes you quicken your movements. You place your hand over his clothed erection and when you wrap your hand around it, a small moan leaves his lips. You’ve barely touched him, yet he’s a moaning mess in your hands.

Your lips press onto his harsher as you begin palming him through his boxers. There’s barely any stimulation happening to his cock, but the mere thought of you being the one to touch him like this, makes him more sensitive to any kind of physical contact with you. He wants to savour and feel every last ounce of your attention tonight, because he’s not sure what this means for your friendship afterwards.

You wrap your hand around his cock and apply some pressure when you stroke him. He’s a moaning mess, softly whimpering as you bite his bottom lip. It takes a few more strokes until you can tell he’s close, so you pull away.

Lando’s confused eyes lock with yours only to realise you’re unclasping your bra and tugging off your panties. He does the same and drops his boxers on the floor, his erection hitting his abdomen with a soft slap. It’s almost like Lando can read your mind when he lays on his back and places his hands on your waist as you sit on his thighs, not daring to take him.

“You scared?” He asks, softly. You knew he had some length, but it didn't seem that long through swimming trunks or boxers. Not to mention the intimidating combo of length and girth Lando seems to be blessed with. When you nod, he slowly flips you over to lay on your back. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

He places a small kiss on your forehead and you feel his hand reaching down to your pussy, a finger slipping between the folds. “So wet for me.” Lando mumbles against your lips. You feel him lining the tip up with your entrance, but he doesn't move it past that.

Lando keeps it there as he softly kisses you, his lips trailing your jaw, neck, collarbone. He leaves small bites and hickeys, earning enough moans from you to last him months of remembering this moment for when he needs you again.

When you whimper into Lando’s mouth, your hips jolting closer to what you want, Lando smirks. “You want it, hm? You want me to fuck you dumb, pretty girl?”

“Mhm,” you mumble against his lips. “Please.”

You feel him pushing his cock into you, the size of it stretching your walls in a way you couldn't have ever imagined. A slow moan leaves your lips and he’s only halfway in.

“Taking me so well, aren't you?” He kisses your neck, licking a spot before softly sinking his teeth into your tender skin. It hurts but fuck, does it feel good. Lando pushes his whole length into you with a short thrust and you gasp at the sudden feeling of him hitting your cervix.

“Lando,” you call out when he slowly pulls out and slowly thrusts back in. “Fuck.”

“You can take it, baby,” he mumbles against your lips, as he pulls out slowly again. This time, his thrust is more aggressive. You feel him slowly speeding up, your moans only increasing in frequency. The shape of his cock and the way he stretches your walls makes your mind go dizzy.

Lando trails kisses down your chest, placing as many hickeys as possible. He wants to make sure you remember tonight. He wants to make sure both of you have a reminder of what happened for days to come.

“Such a good girl,” he lowly hums into your neck, resting his head against your shoulder as his tongue swirls and licks the skin between your collar and jaw. “Pretty pussy all stretched out for me.”

“Fuck,” you squeeze your eyelids shut at the new feeling Lando praising you.

“You like that?” He smirks against your jaw. “Does my pretty girl like praise?”

“Say that again,” you urge him, your hands frantically moving from his hair to his jaw to pull him in for a sloppy kiss. “Tell me I’m yours.”

“You’re mine, baby,” he kisses your lips, his thrusts beginning to turn sloppy. “All mine.”

“All yours,” you affirm against his lips, feeling your own orgasm approaching. “Fuck, Lando. Keep going.”

“You gonna come for me, huh, baby?” He says between his strained moans, his hips slapping against yours as both of you nearing your highs. “C’mon.”

“I’m about to-” your sentence is cut off by a loud moan when Lando’s hand slips between your bodies to find your clit. He starts rubbing the throbbing bud in circles, applying pressure from time to time.

“I’m right there with you, baby, let go.” He kisses you again and again, slowly slipping away to nuzzle his head into your shoulder when both of you moan in pleasure. You feel his warmth spread inside you and he’s sure he’s never felt anything like this before.

He thrusts the cum into you before pulling out and flopping on his back. Both of you are a sweaty mess, still kissing. After a short while, Lando gets up to go get a towel and clean both of you up, and you change the sheets before laying back down.

“So…” your head rests on his chest when you begin to talk. You look up at him, worry slowly filling up your system.. “Still glad you left the party?”

Lando laughs. “There's no place I’d rather be.”

© 2023 slutforln4. all rights reserved.

[lnlightning81]

Positive P2 [LN4]

Summary : Surprising Lando after a race with the results to your pregnancy test

Pairing/s: Lando Norris x Reader

Word Count:

Warning/s: Pregnancy, Talk of not being able to have kids

Watching Lando with kids has always been a beautiful sight. However, watching Lando with Mila and Athena was a totally different experience. There was a different connection watching the two of them. Normally, kids cried when they saw Lando because their hero was right in front of them, but with Mila and Athena, he was just ‘Lala’ and not Lando Norris. 

The video of Lando playing with Mila when she was just a little baby throwing his phone about the place had started to circulate your social media; it only made your baby fever start to grow.

You were due to meet Lando at the paddock as he had gone a little early for the media and you just wanted to lie in but it wasn’t until you felt ill that you messaged Lando asking if he had time to quickly come back to the hotel after stopping at the shop for something. To which he replied obviously still in that state of life where you could ask him to murder someone, and he would. 

There was very little chance you could actually be pregnant with not only you and Lando being extremely careful but with you being told that there was little chance of you ever getting pregnant throughout your life but with your baby fever and how you were feeling everything pointed towards that actually maybe coming true. 

Lando had wanted to wait and see the results but you knew that he couldn’t or he’d get fined so you forced him out of the hotel room telling him that he’d be the first person to know. Except he wouldn’t be. If the test came back positive, you had the perfect way to tell him. 

But when you saw that positive result that’s when you panicked, you never thought you’d actually see the day when that test actually came back positive after many years of being told it would never happen. 

Now, standing in the Mclaren motorhome, you still hadn't told Lando the results. You didn’t want to stress him out before a race. Never mind a race when he was starting on the front row with the chance of winning but you did tell Zak knowing the perfect way to tell him after a good or bad race and hopefully he’d be happy with the news. 

Lando finished P2 just as he started. No one was getting past Max Verstappen any time soon, so it was basically a win for him, and you knew he’d say that when asked about it. Zak waved you over, and you walked over to the pit wall standing behind him as he placed his headphones over your ears and pressed the radio button for Lando’s car. Nodding to you with a smile 

“Hey baby. That’s a positive P2” You hummed, hoping he’d catch on to what you were saying without Sky or F1TV or any other showings catching it. 

“Positive?” He asked with a frown. You could hear the frown on his face

“Wait? What are you doing on the radio?” Now very confused as to everything 

“Yep. Positive P2” You smiled

“Zak let me tell you your position for the day” You looked at Zak, who was smiling at you 

“Oh my god, Y/N. This is brilliant. I love you so much!” He exclaimed 

“I’ll see you at the podium baby” You gave Zak his headphones back 

“Got a podium to get to. Let’s go” He smiled, and you walked with him. Zak’s more than just the CEO to you and Lando. He was always a phone call away if anything went wrong or if you didn’t travel out to a race and couldn’t get a hold of Lando the next best person to call was Zak because he’d always answer. 

Zak would invite you, Lando, Oscar, and Lily out for food whenever he got the chance or would send you little gifts during Christmas or your birthday. He was kinda like a father figure to you both. Standing watching the podium next to Zak, you could see how big the smile on Lando’s face was compared to normal. 

Meeting Lando back in his driving room, you were instantly wrapped in a hug with his hands landing on your stomach as he kissed your neck from behind 

“I can’t believe it, baby. You’re serious, right? We’re going to have a baby? I got the message, right?” He asked, and you nodded 

“I’m very serious. We're going to have a baby. I’m so glad you got that message, though. I was a little worried you wouldn’t understand what I was saying” You smiled, turning in his arms as he kissed you properly this time. 

“Oh my god, a little baby. Oh love you’re parent’s. They’re gonna be so happy they’re getting a grandbaby” Lando was very excited as he basically jumped around the room like a little kid in a sweet shop. 

“If it’s okay with you, I don’t want to tell anyone for a few months” you whispered, sitting down on the couch in his driver's room. Lando looked over at you

“Whatever you want” He smiled, and you nodded 

“After being told I probably would never have kids, I don’t want to tell people. There’s a risk that everything might go wrong and I don’t want to tell everyone we’re having a kid to be reminded that actually we aren’t” You explained quietly and he wrapped you in a hug 

“Whatever you want to do we will do darling but I do know that I love you very much and whatever happens will never change my mind but we’ll do it together” He smiled kissing you around your face causing you to giggle from his stubble tickling your skin 

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[ynbabe]

Cute situations w/ f1 drivers- ep2.

Asking the drivers if they 'wanna nap?'

Charles:

"Wanna nap?" You asked the man as soon as he stepped into his hotel room, tired and eyes red. You knew Ferrari wasn't some winter wonderland but you didn't know why Charles put up with it.

You had been close friends with the man, since before he'd started f3 too, you knew he bled Ferrari red but this wasn't bleeding this was suicide.

Nonetheless, you were there for him, every weekend, only today there wasn't much to do, he had just come back from some meetings. He looked at you and hummed, taking off team-issued merch and throwing himself on the bed beside you.

You turned on some sad Adele song and faded into sleep, holding the boy close to you, his head resting on the curve of your neck.

Carlos:

"Wanna nap?" You asked Carlos as you both walked into his drivers' room, it was early in the morning at the Las Vegas GP and just as the year before they had messed up the timings and the drivers had to wait till four-thirty in the morning to get on with the programme.

Knowing the both of you, you were sure if you hadn't extended the offer the both of you would have ended up doom-scrolling through Netflix looking for some show to watch fighting off sleep.

"What?" He asked, shocked at the offer for a second before raising his browns and winking at you, "You finally feel my charm didn't you?" he laughed as he climbed onto the small and rickety bed next to you. "Smooth operator strikes again," he praised himself, pulling you close to him, enveloping you in his arms as the big spoon.

You groaned and kicked his shin, making him complain, "Dude you're so fucking lame!" You made fun of the older man who only replied with terrorism (tickling you,) "S-top, stop, I'm sorry," you laughed, trying to escape the death grip he had on you, eventually getting him to stop.

He let you catch your breath as he set an alarm, before trapping you in his warm arms again, both drifting into a comfortable sleep.

Lando:

It was way past midnight but you couldn't sleep, unable to get yourself out of the party high, too drunk to rest your brain. Thankfully you weren't the only one.

There was a barrage of knocks on your hotel room, a slurred voice with a British accent begging to be let in. "Y/n/nnnnn, I can't sleep," he cried once in the room, stumbling over nothing as you both made your way to your bed.

You giggled as he fell, brushing his hands over the cold blanket. You joined him, crawling onto the bed slowly as the room around you spun. You laid on your back, clinging onto the bed for dear life.

Lando noticed and piled on top of you, making you raise a question brow. "So you don't fall off," he muttered, his face buried in your chest.

"Ohhhh, that makes sense," you said, understanding his thought process as the spinning slowed down. "We should nap," you said out loud, eyes shutting due to the comforting warm weight on top of you.

Lando hummed in return, wrapping his hands around your waist, as you pulled one hand up to his and another grabbing his curls for extra support.

Oscar:

There were two things everyone knew about Oscar, he hated waking up early and he loved sleeping. So when his trainer woke him up on a perfectly cosy yet cool Monday morning to exercise, he nearly wanted to kill the man, only stopping because that would take much more effort than simply going through with the workout.

Your apartment was closer to the gym than his, so he happily invited himself in to bitch and moan about his trainer and how that man must have hated him.

Rolling at your friend's antics, you pushed away your laptop, walking from the dining table to where he was sitting on your sofa.

"Wanna nap?" You had barely finished your question when you were pulled onto the Australian.

"I thought you'd never ask," he whispered, as he shuffled on the narrow sofa to get comfortable, you still on top of him, his arms wrapped around your waist and your face buried in his neck.

"Are you using me as a teddy bear?" You asked incredulously, trying to get up to no avail as the man's grip on you was far too strong.

"Yes, now let me sleep," he murmured, already half gone.

George:

George had a habit of pushing himself too far, ever since he was a child. When you guys had just newly become friends, the boy had spent hours trying to find out what exactly you liked and didn't, stalking your Instagram and your family's Facebook.

You had found it endearing but also concerning how he always wanted to be perfect. So when you walked into his house at midnight (you got a key made- there's a reason the both of you got along so well,) and found him staring unblinkingly at his laptop and a large mess of papers spread across the wooden coffee table.

"Dude, what is wrong with you," You whisper-yelled at the man making him jump, pressing a hand to his chest.

"Me? What is wrong with you?" He yelled, panting as you jumped over the back of the couch, sitting right next to him, ruffling through the papers much to his chagrin.

"Shut it, Georgie boy," you smirked at him using the nick name he hated. “What are you even doing, it’s so late?” You asked looking at the taller man who started off in a rant about the car and everything he was doing wrong, making you slide down on the sofa till you head was resting on the backrest. You lifted your feet up to rest them on the coffee table, making George rush to move a stack of papers so they wouldn’t be under your feet.

Perfect. You grabbed the man’s shoulders and made his head rest on your lap.

“What on earth are you doing!” He yelled more than asked, trying to get up but you doubled down.

“George you need to sleep,” you deadpanned as he tried to make you let him go, knowing his pleas fell on deaf ears he gave up.

You raised your brow, “wanna nap?” You asked teasing the boy.

“Only for a few minutes,” he pressed, making himself comfortable, while you tangled your fingers in his hair, “maybe more then,” he sighed and let his eyes shut, slightly watering and finally fell asleep.

Lewis

Lewis had never been a friend to you, he was more like an annoying yet caring older brother or like a fun uncle of sorts. The man was fiercely protective of his friends, even those whom he saw in animosity.

But you were different, Lewis would steal your coffee, eat your food, and push you around but he'd also sneak you Red Bull (much to his disgust,) into his driver's room during late races, walk you to your hotel room after parties and get you souvenirs from races you couldn't be at. Similarly, you loved to annoy the man, stealing his expensive jackets, which looked hilarious due to the size difference, stealing his headphones and running away with them and most importantly coming to him with your problems day or night.

So no, Lewis wasn't surprised when you showed up to his driver's room in the middle of the day, even though Toto had revoked your pass for the day (for bullying George, but it was worth it,). He was ready to tease you but then he saw your eyes, red and tears flowing down your face.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" He immediately came up to you, giving you a once-over to see if you were injured. "Did someone say something, are you hurt?" He asked panicking at your silence. You simply wrapped your arms around the older man, hiding your face in his chest, quietly sobbing and sniffling.

He walked you both to the sofa in his room, seating you down, trying to wipe your tears, "Do you wanna talk about it?" He asked as you finally calmed down, using his arm as support to sit up.

You cleared your throat, "No, I just wanna nap," you hiccuped slightly.

"Okay," he leaned back so you could rest your head on his shoulder, giving you one of his airpods to relax, which you gladly accepted.

Lance & Fernando (they aren't always gonna be together but the situations... THE SITUATIONS WRITE THEMSELVES)

"Oh honey that’s not," Lance said pointing to your coloured hair (matching with Alex) and thats how the conversation had started and had ended in a cat fight.

“At least I’m not a nepo baby,” you yelled as you threw a basket of oranges at him, which he dodged, darn those f1 reflexes. The basket itself smacked him square in the face, leaving a red indent across his nose. He glared for a second before jumping over the table you were fighting across and pulled your hair. “Owww, you bitch”

You bit his hands in defence, to which he kicked your shin, screaming you launched yourself at him, crashing the both of you to the ground, “oh my god, okay, truce, truce,” he panted, pushing you off him.

“Just so you can catch your breath,” you retorted making him mock you. In reality, you were definitely much more tired than he was. You were struggling to catch your breath, your head killing you where he grabbed a large chunk of your hair.

You turned to look at him, resting your head on his stretched arm, he was massaging his nose, the bruise turning purple now, “well that was fun,” he turned to face you.

“Sooooo fun,” you rolled your eyes, “wanna nap? My heads killing me,” you are far him in accusation but he glared right back pointing to his swollen nose.

“Sure,” he shrugged, shifting closer to you and closing his eyes. You opened your mouth to make a joke but were interrupted, “there are like a million oranges on the floor right now, I’ll throw one at you,” you accepted defeat and fell into a comfortable sleep.

That’s how Fernando found the both of you, slightly scowling but fast asleep, he took a picture for blackmail’s sake and placed a blanket over the two of you.

PT-2 w/ Max, Logan, Alex, Daniel, Yuki, Pierre, Esteban, Zhou.

[changetyre]

Hope you're doing well, I didn't know your request was open!!

I'm not going to beat around the bush but could you write something like reader tease Oscar P in the shower and he fucks her from behind in front of the mirror??

If you're not comfortable with it, just ignore this request :)

It's so wrong but it feels so right II Oscar Piastri ⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: Oscar tried everything in his power to stay away from his teammate's younger sister despite her constant attempts at getting him to break...key word being tried.

WARNINGS: *18+* Not proofread

A/N: Yay another request and also the first Oscar fic here ;) Enjoy xx

"Yep." Your brother spoke on the phone. He was distracted enough that you knew you could have fun with the guy in front of you.

When Daniel had left the team last year you felt incredibly sad having grown close to the older man who treated you like a younger sister.

When Oscar arrived you saw the way your brother and him didn't truly connect at first like Daniel and him had done but little by little he started opening up.

And you kind of loved the shy and laid-back personality Oscar had so much that it attracted you in a way nothing and no one had ever done before.

The first time you'd tried to make an advance on Oscar he'd completely thought it was you just being overly friendly because you had drunk too much being that it was at a party.

But Oscar truly underestimated you when the following weeks you'd gone far and beyond to get his attention.

It wasn't that Oscar didn't find you attractive, it was the fact that you were his teammate's younger sister. Damn if you had any other last name he sure as hell would've responded to your advances ages ago but he couldn't do this to Lando.

Despite this, you still tried and you weren't going to give up. Oscar flinched, his knee hitting the table as he felt your foot slide from his ankle up to his thigh.

Lando turned to look at him weirdly but Oscar shrugged him off and Lando went back to focus on the call he'd gotten.

Oscar grabbed your heeled foot stopping it just as it approached his crotch. "y/n." He said your name in a warning tone which honestly only spurred you on.

"Ozzie..." you said his name teasingly in the same volume, your bottom lip between your teeth as you leaned forward on the table revealing a little bit more of your cleavage to him.

You saw the way Oscar's breath hitched, his eyes dropping between your breasts as his other hand caressed your leg, letting himself get pulled in by you.

"Okay, I'll be there in 20." Lando hung up snapping Oscar out of his trance.

"What's up?" You innocently asked as if you weren't just trying to get Oscar flustered.

"Something changed with the car settings and we need to go over the race strat again before tomorrow. I have to go." Lando gathered his things. "Oscar, do you mind driving y/n back to the hotel?" Lando asked.

"Uh, sure." Oscar hesitantly replied watching the way your mischievous smile grew.

"Alright, see you later." Lando hugged you not noticing the way you slipped your hotel room key into his back pocket before he went on to say a quick goodbye to Oscar.

Trying to keep control of the situation Oscar quickly asked for the bill after Lando left. He could hear the way you giggled thinking his nervous behavior was hilarious.

"Okay let's go," Oscar said as soon as he'd gotten his receipt.

You got up and quickly linked your arm around Oscar's as he led you both out of the restaurant.

You'd spent the car ride to the hotel making light conversation, Oscar obviously not missing your flirty remarks and the way you tried to bring your hand to Oscar's thigh repeatedly.

In the end, he was only able to stop you by taking your hand in his which you were very much pleased with as you thought he looked sexy driving with one hand while keeping a hold of you with the other.

Finally arriving at the hotel Oscar was more than relieved that this interaction was finally over since he could tell he was starting to lose control, his body felt incredibly hot with how touchy you'd been tonight and he'd constantly just had to remind himself you were his teammate's younger sister.

He led you to the door of your room which was right next to your brothers and consequently a few doors down from Oscar's own room.

"Oh." You faked surprise. "Hmm, I think Lando kept my room key." You commented.

"What?" Oscar panicked. "Are you sure have you checked your pockets?" He had no idea when Lando would get back and he knew he couldn't leave you out here waiting, with his panic he failed to notice the smirk on your lips.

"I don't have pockets Ozzie." you laughed twirling around for him to see your tight-fitting dress which lacked pockets.

Oscar cleared his throat nervously. "Right, uhm." He looked around as if he'd found the solution to his problem floating around somewhere in the hallway.

"Maybe I could just wait in your room?" You innocently suggested but Oscar knew damn well you were anything but innocent.

"Uh yeah." Oscar reluctantly agreed knowing there was truly no other option right now, but he also knew damn well Lando would be getting back to the hotel late...very late.

Walking into his room Oscar tried his best to keep a distance from you. "I'm gonna shower and uhm...you can sit somewhere," he told you as he moved around the room pointlessly trying to look busy.

"Okay, Ozzie." You chirped.

Oscar's head was running wild in the shower. He let the cold water run down his body hoping it would help the situation between his legs that he knew he couldn't walk out of the bathroom with.

But it was useless. Oscar felt like he'd been standing under the cold water for ages and his dick was still as hard as a rock, painful.

"You okay in there Ozzie?" He jumped at hearing your voice. He could see your outline through the frosted glass of the shower.

"What are you doing here?" He asked nervously.

"You were taking a while and my face feels gross so I wanted to wash it out...also my dress was getting uncomfortable." You replied nonchalantly.

The insinuation of this only made Oscar's member ache more. "What-What do you mean?" Oscar shut off the shower.

"Do you have a shirt I can borrow Ozzie?" You moved to the door of the shower.

Oscar's first mistake was turning off the shower, and the second was opening the door to peek outside. He caught sight of your almost naked figure now covered only by a black lace lingerie set that broke Oscar right then and there.

"Fuck you're impossible," Oscar muttered as he lost all self-control rushing out of the shower and immediately wrapping a hand around your throat bringing your face forward and capturing your lips into a sloppy, desperate, and rushed kiss.

"F*ck me Ozzie." You moaned at feeling his large dick slap against the inside of your thigh.

"Is that what you want...Is this what you've been waiting for you little slut." He whispered into your ear as his hand moved down to the lace between your legs running a finger across and noticing how wet you were.

"Yeah...yes Ozzie." Your breath shuttered feeling your body overwhelmed in pleasure at finally having Oscar the way you've wanted him for so long.

"Well, good job...you finally did it." Oscar stuck a finger in you without previous warning making you yelp in pleasure as he began thrusting it in and out of you.

He did this in an attempt to prepare you for him but after feeling the way you dripped down on his fingers he knew you were more than ready.

"Turn around." He turned you around manhandling you and lifted your legs up onto the bathroom counter so you were squatting on your knees, your ass just hanging off the edge wide open for him.

You could see Oscar in the mirror in front of you as he slapped your hole with his dick sliding it up and down your slit a few times to tease you.

"How the tables have turned." Oscar laughed as he felt you rub back against him trying to get him to slide into you.

"Please Ozzie, Please." You cried begging for him to do something already.

"what do you want hmm?" He teased as he pushed the tip in slightly before taking it back out.

"Please just put it in me already, I beg you." You whined to Oscar meeting his gaze through the mirror. "Just this once please." You were so desperate and Oscar loved to have regained control now.

He laughed but he was also desperate to get inside you so without further teasing he thrusted his full length into you. He felt your body trying to jump up at the sudden stretch but he held your hips down so you were unable to move as he began slowly thrusting in and out of you.

"Just this once." Oscar scoffed. "You're insane if you think this is the last time baby," Oscar spoke confidently as he kept slamming into you.

"Ah...fuck...so good." You cried, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you could feel that knot tightening in your stomach.

Oscar undid your bra with one of his hands while his other kept a tight hold of your waist making sure his pace was maintained. He almost came at the sight in the mirror.

Your nipples were pierced.

"Fuck you are a little slut aren't you," Oscar commented as he began playing with the metal on your buds.

This only increased the satisfaction in you. "Ah fuck Ozzie don't stop." You cried.

"Look at me." Oscar panted. "Look at me when you cum." He demanded grabbing your face to look into the mirror.

"Sh*t I'm close." You moaned as you felt your legs start to tremble.

Oscar sped up his pace wanting to join you in your release. "Cum, cum with me."

"Ah cum inside me, please." You cried and that was enough for Oscar to let go. He felt you squeeze around him as he began pumping you full your legs shivering as your orgasm washed over you.

Oscar stayed inside you as you both caught your breaths, you leaned back into Oscar's chest as he caressed your skin gently.

"Fuck that was-" Oscar was about to speak when you were both interrupted by a loud knock at the door.

"Oscar you in there?" You could hear your brother's voice.

You saw the way the color drained from Oscar's face.

"You better come up with something fast Ozzie, wouldn't want him finding out you just spilled inside his sister would you." You giggled.

[mariahcarreyyy]

i hear u are looking for landoscar x reader smut ideas, and i raise you oscar domming tf out of lando and reader!!

CAUGHT ORANGE-HANDED, ln4 [+ op81 ]

pairing lando norris x fem!reader x oscar piastri

plot oscar catches you and lando touching each other without permission

wc 2.6k

warning(s) smut 18+, dry humping, brat!lando and brat!reader, brat-tamer!oscar 😉, caught in the act, male masturbation, cock denial (?), orgasm control, cumming in pants, lan and reader r obsessed with oscar's cock, mutual oral sex (m!recieving), lando gets a facial😵‍💫, degradation kink (slut & brat), and lots of swearing

“I'm home!” Oscar’s voice echoes along the long, carpeted hallway of his shared hotel room.

He frowns at the response, or lack thereof. Shrugging his midnight blue puffer jacket off his shoulder, the younger Mclaren driver toes out of his shoes and scopes out the miniature living room in search of his two lovers.

When he reaches the end of the hall, he’d half-expected you and Lando to be lazily splayed against the couch, legs entangled with one another while watching your latest Netflix obsession.

But you two aren't.

Oscar had come ‘home’ aggravated and sweaty and in some serious need of a long, warm cuddle with the two people he knows he could unconditionally count on, and you two aren't fucking here. 

He lifts his hand to thread his fingers through his hair, tugging on it out of frustration, before pulling out his phone to text, Where are you?, to either one of you.

And then he ascertains his answer without needing to ask.

A string of desperate moans and whines, a man’s and a woman’s, slide through the cracks of his bedroom door and slowly fill the air around him. Oscar scoffs; they really can’t spend a second together without needing their cocks wet and pussy stuffed to the brim, huh?

Somewhere amidst the non-existent space between your covered, wet pussy and the bulge in Lando’s tight boxers, the fear of Oscar catching you looms over the lust-filled haze enveloping the room.

“Osc’s s'posed to be on his way, baby,” Lando manages to gasp out like he wants you to stop, but his hands’ metal grip on your waist never falters and his green eyes never leave yours.

It was a weak warning; Lando was aware, but the sight of you on top of him, steadying yourself with your palms flat against his stomach to move your hips fervently against his crotch—fuck, it made him even weaker.

You hum nonchalantly in response, eyes rolling to the back of your head when his trapped cock nudges at your neglected clit again, “Don’t care, need you, Lan.”

The curly-haired boy groans at that, planting his feet on the bed to meet your languid movements. The friction was so much and still so little, so far from what you two truly wanted.

“Fuck, me neither.”

When you double over and pucker your lips slightly above Lando’s, he can’t help but grin into the kiss. It’s desperate, laced with unimaginable hornyness and clashing teeth, and Lando can’t fucking stop.

“Pathetic, honestly, y’sluts couldn’t even wait a couple hours for me?”

You gasp into your boyfriend's lips, halting every one of your movements (much to the displeasure of the stirring pit in your lower stomach). Lando pinches your waist, resulting in you scrambling to sit upright and crane your head back to look at a very beautiful, very angry-looking Australian standing in the doorway.

“Hiya,” Lan smirks mischievously at the muscular frame of his boyfriend behind you, lifting his head slightly to do so.

You mentally palm your forehead.

“Hiya?” Oscar furrows his brows, advancing towards the edge of the bed. “That all you got f’me? C’mon, Lan, you wanna come tonight or not?”

Your eyes roll back, this time in annoyance rather than pleasure. “Knock it off, Oscar, it’s not that big of a deal. We were horny, so what?”

Oscar’s big brown eyes meet yours for the first time since he’d arrived, and you fight the urge to crawl in a hole and die because, judging by his glare, he’d murder you instead. The paler boy raises a questioning brow, his eyes flitting between you and Lando, never leaving your curious glances when he begins ripping every piece of clothing adorning his body off.

And fuck, his body was something to gawk at. Oscar’s abs are still tense and sweaty from the workout his trainer put him through earlier, but the real sight for sore eyes was his thick, hardening dick between his even thicker thighs.

Evident with the hopeless roll of Lando’s hips, Oscar had the same effect on him as well.

“Oscahhh, c’mere,” the man underneath you demands, one of his big palms leaving your waist to make grabby hands at the paler man standing beside you.

Much to your surprise, Oscar complies. Big, stoic, text-book-dom Oscar Piastri fucking crawls up the mattress from behind you—his breath tickles your neck and a pathetic whimper slips from your lips—reaches over your shoulder to tug Lando up forcefully from his hair and starts noisily kissing him.

Right over your shoulder, beside your face.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. They had no right to look that good, like they were carefully sculpted by the Greek gods themselves, made for each other. Made for you, too.

Lando presses himself impossibly closer to Oscar's lips, his chest flush against your perky tits and Oscar’s against your arched back—you are sandwiched between them, and it does nothing to help the growing dampness on your panties.

A minute passes. Somehow, neither of them has lost their breath, and you want to absolutely sob because the ache between your thighs is screaming for relief. Huffing at the lack of attention, you grind your hips: first, downward against Lando, and then, grinding your ass against Osc’s heavy cock.

“Oscar, come on!" You whine, tilting your head back to bury it in the crook of his neck.

Like a light switch flipped, Oscar rips his tongue out of Lando’s mouth and nudges his shoulder to push you off of him before whispering hotly, “It’s not that big of a deal, y/n.”

There it was. The big, stoic, text-book dom places his hands under Lando’s on your hips, squeezing painfully at the itchy lace of your panties. Also making you so fucking horny.

“Osc, c’mon, y’know she didn’t mean it li-,” Lando’s words die in his throat at the sharp glare Oscar shot at him.

“A slut defending a slut? Hm, nothing’s changed, I see." Oscar trails his palms up the sides of your frame, passing over Lando’s darker hand as he continues. “I really don’t get why you guys didn’t just wait for me, would've given one of you m’cock.”

You and Lando whine in unison, and it's music to Oscar’s fucking ears.

Jutting your bottom lip out, you counter, “You still can, Osc.”

Oscar's lips twitch upwards, grabbing Lando’s hand and placing his index and thumb on your tits, tweaking at the nub through Lando’s long fingers. A needy moan escapes your lips, grinding on Lando’s covered dick and shit, you need it now.

Your fingers glide downward through the hardness of Lando’s abs, tugging desperately at the hem of his boxers.

Oscar tuts disapprovingly, dropping Lando’s hand from your tits—you and the pleasure pooling in your stomach whine in protest—before ordering, “Y’two can grind on each other till you come, but the underwear stays on.”

Lando pouts, his hands moving up to palm your hardened nipples, flicking at the nub, and talks to Oscar behind you like you aren't writhing on his lap.

“Lan,” you gasp when his squeezes escalate faster and rougher, the hint of pain overshadowed by the pleasure coursing through your body.

They both ignore you.

“Osc, please,” Lando begs, helpless at this point, tears brimming at his waterline because, my god, his boxers were about to fucking rip open at the sheer size of his hard cock.

You want it stuffed inside you so bad.

You can’t see it, but you feel like you can when Oscar grins behind you, pulling his heated body away from the curve of your back and crawling up to the bedpost beside Lan.

Now, you could see both of their faces clearly: horny, hot, and flushed. The younger driver places one arm behind his head, his bicep bulging to the size of your head, while the other grips at the base of his throbbing cock.

Holy shit, your panties were absolutely soaked, seeping through their seams and wiping the slick of your pussy onto Lando’s boxers.

“C’mon,” Oscar urges, lazily stroking his precum around the length of his cock. “I wanna watch.”

Lando lets out a low groan before his hands leave your tortured tits to cup your cheeks and press his lips against yours. It was messy and a bit awkward, and you couldn’t care less. When Lando slides his crotch against the dampness of your underwear, you're powerless to resist a loud moan.

“Fuck,” you whine against his pillowy lips, meeting Lando’s desperate ruts and arching your back when the head of his cock nudged at your swollen clit. 

When you detach from him for air and glance at Oscar, you finally register the loud wetness of him fucking his dick into the circle of his fingers. And shit, the thought of him getting off on the sight of you and Lando desperately humping each other makes you way hornier than it should.

“Fuck, baby,” Lando moans, eyebrows furrowed, and mouth caught in a permanent ‘o’. “Y’so good, so good, y/n, fuck, I’m close.”

You whimper, head hazy at the sound of the three of you getting off to one another, and your thighs burn at the erratic movements of your hips. That doesn't deter your hips from moving frantically as you get drunk on Lando’s mewls and Oscar’s raspy groans.

So, when Lan’s rugged fingertips brush against your sensitive nipples once more, you can’t help yourself when it throws you off the edge; your back arches almost uncomfortably with your head thrown back and bottom lip between your teeth, filling the room with a symphony of high-pitched moans.

“Shit, shit, shit." Lando throws his head back against the pillow, and you bend to place your wet lips against his wide neck.

You nibble, kiss, and suck the canvas of his neck, muffling the sound of your overstimulated moans as Lando chases his high against you.

“Fuckk, you two’re so fucking hot,” Oscar groans, hastily sitting up on his calves to jerk his dick off beside Lando’s face. Lan instinctively opens his mouth, tongue poking out slightly and hips stuttering, when Oscar paints his face with beads of milky cum.

Naturally, you whimper—both at the sight of your boyfriends and the feel of Lando’s boxers dampening more when the mix of his own cum and yours stain the cotton.

Fuck, you'd be inexplicably horny right now if you hadn't just come. Oscar’s still kneeling beside Lando, frozen and wide-eyed and panting for air. And, even after reaching his high, Lando’s hips slow but do not stop from under you, like he can’t fucking help but grind against you.

The last thing your eyes registered before falling pliant against your boyfriend's chest was Oscar gathering his cum on Lando’s face with his thumb. Lando’s lips part, and he obediently sucks on Oscar’s thumb with a muffled moan.

You could die happily like this, you think, sinking further into the bed when the warmth of both your lovers arms encircles your frame.

“You two still aren’t getting my cock for a week, by the way, serves you brats right.”

And Lando, because he can't take a fucking hint, grins at Oscar and asks, "Can I suck you off?"

You start, "Lan, you dumbass-"

"M'kay," Oscar cuts you off, retracting his arm from around your waist and scooching up the bed to lay his head on the bedpost.

The grin etched onto Lando's face only widens, his big hands hauling you off of him before crawling into the V of his boyfriend's legs. Oscar, despite having come a few short minutes ago, is already half-hardened at the sight of Lando gazing dumbly at his cock.

"Desperate much?" you coo from beside him, although you too felt the pit in your stomach stirring again.

Not so pleased, Oscar extends his arm to the space between his legs and motions you towards Lando. You don't blink before obeying him. In fact, if it meant touching or feeling his cock in any way, shape, or form, you think you'd do anything he'd ask of you right now.

You mimic Lando's position: lying down beside him on your chest with your face millimetres away from Oscar's dick. A familiar fire courses through your abdomen as Oscar shoves his hands into your and Lando's locks.

"How 'bout whoever sucks me off best gets my cock, hm?" Oscar says it like a question, but you and Lando know better than to reply. "That sound good for you brats?"

The two faces behind his cock nod frantically with a newborn competitive glint in their eyes. At the confirmation, Oscar wastes not a second before tugging on Lando's roots to wrap the elders' lips around the head of his cock.

You bite your bottom lip, rubbing your thighs to try and ease your pussy screaming for attention—it does fuck all. Oscar has his head thrown back, silent moans escaping his parted lips as his boyfriend lapped at the underside of his length.

"Shit, Lan, just like that, fuck," his hips buck uncontrollably, lifting Lando's head off his cock—who only whined at the loss—and pulling you down onto him instead.

With a slight jerk of your head, your hot mouth closes around his cock, hollowing out your cheeks to suck more of him. You swallow the gag threatening to leave your mouth when his length hits the back of your throat, the hand on your hair clenching painfully but oh-so-beautifully.

Oscar's groans bounce off the walls, nearly overpowered by the lewd slurps and gags from his cock in your mouth, "Holy shit, oh fuck, Lan, fuck, yes, yes."

Your brows furrow, gazing up at Oscar's fucked-out face, before the realization that Lando had managed to sneak a hand around the base of Oscar's cock, mouthing desperately at his balls, dawns on you.

You pull off Oscar with a cough. "Lan, fuck off, j's lemme have this, Jesus."

With a fond mix of a chuckle and a moan, Oscar hesitantly bats Lando's hands and mouth off of him, motioning for you to continue. So, you do. You clasp your fingers around the parts of Oscar's cock that your throat couldn't reach and cup his balls with your other hand, bobbing your head mercilessly up and down his length.

Lando whines (he doesn't know if he wants to be Oscar or you, but he pouts anyway), and you continue absolutely wrecking Oscar.

"You're so good, y/n, fuck! So good, so," Oscar groans, his chest rising and falling rapidly; his sweaty abs contracted ethereally, one of the few indications that he was close.

Humming around his cock, you pull off reluctantly for breath, and Lando, that sly bastard, takes it as his cue to replace you. Your throats' fucked raw and the exhausted flush on your face trails over your entire body, so you tiredly rest your forehead on Oscar's inner thigh, occasionally kissing and mouthing at the flesh.

Oscar's hand leaves your hair and places both of his palms on Lando's bobbing head, fucking up once, twice into his boyfriend's throat before groaning loudly, "Fuck, shit, holy shit, I'm coming, I'm co-."

Ropes of hot cum dribble down Lando's chin when he hauls himself off of Oscar's length, and you have to resist the urge to lick it clean. A loud exhale leaves Oscar's lips, his dick slowly softening and his hand returning to the top of your head to stroke your hair fondly.

"So?" you question, your voice raspy and lust-filled.

"Lando won," the younger man grins hazily, chuckling when Lando lets out a proud 'hmmph' directed at you.

You gasp, "Liar!"

"Y'can't tell the guy who just came from my mouth a liar, baby," Lando quips, nudging your shoulder with his.

"I can when he's a liar," you mutter bitterly before your eyes light up. "I call for a rematch!"

authors notes thank you @ashiekins ur request was also inspo for this fic and to @cafekitsune + @saradika for the dividers xx

lemme know how you liked this story or give me some feedback in the comments or my inbox! 💬🌷

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p.s reblogs and likes are always appreciated 💕💕