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thelostconsultant · 11 days ago

Text

Lando Norris x reader

summary: You and Lando got married before the beginning of the season, but no one knows you’re together. You make a bet at the wedding, and Lando truly believes he can get through the season with everyone believing he’s single.

about the fc: The one in the red hoodie is just a random girl from pinterest, because I love that hoodie. Don't see too much into this, I'm not having that conversation again.

“What?” you ask, although it comes out more like a bark than a well formulated question.

Lando has been watching you with that stupid grin of his for long minutes now, and you can’t hide your annoyance any longer. You love him, you really do, but God, isn’t he annoying sometimes? As you wait for his response, he holds up a finger and opens a video on his phone for you.

It’s him at the last race weekend, standing on the stage with Oscar. Nothing new. But then he talks about being single, and after this part he quickly moves over to the comments. Everyone is either offering to date him or feels sorry for him, there is no in between. But you can’t feel sorry for him.

“You’re still gonna lose,” you tell him with a laugh.

With a thoughtful hum, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you against his chest. “You read the comments. I’m the people’s princess, they feel so sorry for me. No one suspects a thing. I’m safe,” he says with a confident smile.

Over half a year ago, on the day of your secret wedding at a remote part of the world, the two of you made a bet. You said he wouldn’t be able to keep this secret, that there was no way he could last this season without people finding out he was not only in a relationship, but married too. He begged to differ, saying he was pretty good at keeping secrets.

Now, after all those months, you sometimes have your weak moments when you are sure you would lose, although this is something you are under no circumstances about to tell him. His ego is already big enough when it comes to the bet, the last thing you want is things getting worse in this sense.

If he wins, he will get the right to decide when and how to announce your marriage. And if it’s up to him, it will be a hard launch, like a wrecking ball crashing into a building to tear down the walls. He wants chaos, he wants everyone to know how much he loves you. It’s flattering, really, but can he not?

Because Lando wants a big, flashy event with all of his friends from on and off the grid, and he wants alcohol to flow like water while the music blasts loudly around you. It would only come to an abrupt stop the moment he grabs the mic and announces how much he loves his wife, only to cause the guests to murmur loudly as they try to figure out if he’s just drunk or dead serious.

If you win, it will mean people found out about you, so your prize would be something other than how you make this relationship public. But what could you ask for? So, in the end, you told him you would get to make a wish one day when you figured out what you wanted, and he couldn’t say no when you asked.

As of now, people don’t know about you at all. You are just a nameless McLaren employee to them who sometimes shows up on photos with the rest of the team. To make sure you can stay in the background, he even asks one or two girls during the time you are still in the dating phase to pose as his girlfriends for a while. It only comes with a few photos and posts, sometimes appearances in the paddock. Nothing serious, really.

While you can wear your wedding band all the time, Lando doesn’t have the freedom to do the same. Sure, he has it, safely locked away with the rest of your jewelry until the day your marriage becomes public. Now he only has a necklace with a pendant you chose, your initials engraved into it with small letters so it won’t be too obvious on photos.

“I’ve been thinking,” you suddenly say, moving your head a little so you can look him in the eye. When he lets out a questioning hum and flashes a smile at you, you reach out to play with his pendant. “Why don’t we raise the stakes in our little bet?”

Lando kisses your cheek, then he says, “You hate it that I’m winning.”

Rolling your eyes, you let out a sigh. “No, I just had an idea for a little experiment. What if you wore your wedding band on the next race weekend?” you ask with an innocent look on your face.

It's mean, you know that, because this will surely draw attention to him. Wearing his ring could only result in losing the game. But you have to do something, you want to win. Well, you just don’t want your dear husband to win, but that’s almost the same.

“That would be too obvious,” he replies with a shake of his head.

“Buy a few more and say you’re copying Lewis,” you offer with a cheeky grin.

He shakes his head with a laugh, then takes a deep breath. “And what do I get if they don’t notice?”

You have thought a lot about this, because you know it has to be something big, something he really wants. And there is only one thing that came to your mind. “You get two kids,” you tell him casually.

But Lando isn’t stupid, he knows this is the moment to negotiate. “Hmm… You know I want a big family. Three and I’ll do it.”

He will lose anyway, so why would you say no? “All right, three. But if I win, we’ll only have one,” you remind him.

He nods before leaning down to kiss you. “I’ll win, so you can start picking names,” he says with a confident grin.

You: Sorry, babe, you officially lost the bet. <link>

A few seconds later your phone rings, and you answer Lando’s call with a satisfied smile on your face. You just want to rub it in his face, you want him to know he lost the bet. To be honest, ever since you’ve seen this post, you’ve been thinking about what to ask for, and a soft launch of your relationship sounds quite nice.

“I didn’t lose,” he says right away.

“You saw the post, someone spotted the ring.”

To your surprise, Lando starts to laugh, a carefree sound that makes it clear he’s sure he’s winning this. “Do you want me to remind you that you’re not here with me right now? And that video of us was recorded during the summer break in Greece. The bet was about me wearing the ring this weekend. So no, sweetheart, you definitely did not win this one,” he explains, and you can imagine that smug smirk on his face.

“Still, the original bet–”

He tuts to interrupt you. “No, no, you changed the rules with the ring. I won. No one noticed it this weekend.”

“Let’s call it a tie,” you try, although you know he has you in a corner now.

“I want to talk about the prize,” he begins, waiting until he hears you hum to let him go on. “We agreed that if I win, we’ll have three kids, if you win, we’ll only have one. If it’s a tie, then fine, let’s settle with two.”

You remain silent for a while as you think about this. He’s right, it would be only fair to reach a compromise, and in this case it involves the number of your future children. If it’s a tie, then two is the logical conclusion, there is no reason to argue with him. So, you take a deep breath that you let out slowly until you gather your thoughts. “All right, fine. And what about us? I mean, our relationship. Do we keep it a secret, or…?”

“What do you want? If you’d rather not be in the spotlight, we can deny everything if there’ll be a bigger buzz about that tweet,” he says kindly, his patience with you painfully obvious.

But you don’t want to hide, you want things to be out in the open now. “I’d say let’s do a soft launch with mysterious posts for a while. But if you have a different idea, I’m open to it,” you assure him.

Lando lets out a thoughtful hum. “We have a short break now, soooooo… Okay, we do the soft launch, but you come to the next race with me, as yourself, not disguised as a McLaren team member, and we’ll wear our rings and everything.”

“That’s pretty much a hard launch.”

There’s a scoff on the other end of the line. “You get almost two weeks of soft launch, what more do you want? Come on, I need you by my side,” he begs you sweetly.

You agree. There’s no way you can say no to him.

liked by oscarpiastri, martingarrix and 522,145 others

landonorris: My wife, the queen of the house 😍🥰❤️

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

yourusername: LANDO!

⤷ landonorris: Yes, love?

⤷ yourusername: You said you’ll give me two weeks. That’s it, you’re sleeping on the couch when you get home.

oscarpiastri: What did I miss? Last time we talked, you were chronically single.

⤷ landonorris: I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’ve been happily married for over half a year.

⤷ user1: WHAT?!

user2: Lando being married was not on my bingo card.

maxverstappen1: My wedding invitation must have been lost in the mail.

⤷ landonorris: Sorry, it was just the two of us.

user3: I’m so happy, you deserve all the love!!!

user4: We have a new WAG, woo-hoo! But please yourusername don’t make him sleep on the couch 😭

⤷ yourusername: I’ll reconsider that decision.

#i missed this story btw #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #formula 1

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thelostconsultant · 11 days ago

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Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: Oscar finds out he has a son, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to be the father he deserves.

Note: Oscar is in his early 30s in this. Also, I've been going through the trash can (exported posts from the old blog), so most of it might be familiar.

“We would like to meet Oliver’s father. His biological father,” the principal clarifies as he glances over at your boyfriend. You’ve been together for three years, he has been by your five-year-old’s side for over half his life, why isn’t he enough?

But he insists on meeting him, saying if he was dead and you could prove it, or if your boyfriend was your husband, they would move on with the enrollment, but you have confirmed that you aren’t married and the biological father is alive, so now they want to have a chat with him. He doesn’t even care about the tiny little detail that said father has absolutely no idea he has a child.

What a bunch of morons.

In the evening, while your son is reading a book about cars in his bed with your boyfriend, you sit by the dining table with your phone in hand, trying to figure out what to do. This fancy private school is perfect, they know how to handle intelligent kids like Oliver, and you want the best for him. You want to make sure he doesn’t get bored, that he will get the kind of intellectual challenge in school that he needs.

At the age of five, he can read on his own just fine, he even learned some Spanish from your boyfriend, and he’s a quick study in general. It’s infuriating how he’s a mini version of his father, from his intelligence to his looks, everything reminds you of him.

And if you meet F1 fans together, someone surely goes, “He looks so much like Piastri at his age!” Sadly, that isn’t a coincidence, and the poor kid picked up on the whole you-look-like-him thing and chose him as his favorite driver.

Sometimes you consider telling him. Oliver, not Oscar. God, there’s no way you will ever tell him the truth. He has his own, certainly busy life and he probably doesn’t need a child in it. Yes, you saw the photos, he’s good with kids, but meeting one for a few minutes isn’t the same as having your own.

Your son on the other hand can find out when he gets old enough to understand why you left and went no contact with his father. That was over five years ago anyway, so you had time to figure out what to do. Until then, you make sure the few photos of you and Oscar are stored somewhere safe in case he wants to see them when the time comes.

Now you are cornered, your hand forced by that damn principal. You have no idea if he’s still using that old social media profile of his, but you have to try. So, you take a deep breath and start a video call, deep down hoping he won’t answer. You aren’t ready to talk to him, not yet, but you have no choice. And then his face shows up on your screen, the sight bringing back memories you’ve been trying to forget for years.

“Hey. Are you sure it’s me you wanted to call?” he asks, although there’s a hint of a smile on his lips.

Nodding, you let out a sigh. “Hi. Yeah, um… I don’t even know where to start.”

“At the beginning?”

Silence follows his words, your brain in overdrive as it try to find the best way to start. But maybe being straightforward is the right answer. “I have a son. He’s five,” you add, hoping the meaningful look you’re sending his way can be seen over the screen.

After a few seconds of heavy silence, you can see the wheels turning in his head as he does some math. “Wait, five? We… That was a bit over five years ago. Could he…?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “He’s your son.”

His face is emotionless for a while as he tries to process the news, but this is nothing new, he’s the king of hiding emotions. But then, just as you think he will end the call, he lets out a sigh. “Why now? What do you want from me? Money?” he asks, although you can tell he’s unsure about this whole situation.

The fact he assumes you want money only makes you angry. “It’s not your money I need. Hell, I don’t even want you to meet him,” you snap. “The thing is, there’s this private school I want to send him to, and they have this stupid rule to have both parents present at a parental interview. Since my boyfriend and I never got married, they want to see the biological father. That’s all I want. A meeting with the principal.”

Oscar puts up a finger as he bites on his lower lip, his eyes focusing on something behind his phone’s camera. “Let me get this straight. After all these years, you say I have a son, but I’m not allowed to meet him?” he then asks, looking back at you.

“Yeah.”

“One meeting,” he then states, his voice serious. “You let me meet him once and I’ll talk to that principal.”

“Oscar, come on.”

“That’s the deal I can offer.”

You don’t have a choice, you know that. If he doesn’t do it for Oliver, he will have to go to another school. Letting out a sigh of defeat, you nod. “But we don’t tell him that you’re his father. He watches F1, and since he looks a lot like you, he decided that you’re his favorite driver. That’s all you’re gonna be, nothing more.”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I,” Oscar begins hesitantly, and you can see as he sits down on his couch and looks up at the ceiling. “You just told me I had a son. What do you want from me, to forget it? I want to meet him. I want him to know who I am.”

“He’s five. If he finds out, he’ll want to see you again. He will want you to be a part of his life. I don’t want that.”

You can see he’s uncertain about this. He probably understands that becoming his father would mean he will have to regularly visit the two of you, and even if you all kept it a secret, there is still the risk of the truth slipping out and making it into the headlines. “Is he anything like me?” he suddenly asks, his eyes softening as he watches you.

A smile creeps on your lips as you think about this, because it’s so painfully obvious to you that you can’t deny it, no matter how badly you want to do that. “He’s a highly intelligent little smartass, just like you. And his looks… A mini you, no doubt.”

Oscar nods. “Then I want to be a part of his life. Let me spend time with him,” he asks, seeming relaxed.

“Two hours.”

“No, I’ll stay for a week, and I want to see him every day,” he’s quick to clarify. “I can look out for him while you’re at work.”

Whatever happened to the idea of meeting Oliver once? That’s not what you have just discussed, and now he’s changing his demands? “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” is all you say in the end.

“You said it yourself, I’m his favorite driver,” he points out with a smug smile. “We’ll be fine.”

You are doing this only because of the school. You remember what Oscar can be like; if he makes up his mind about something, he definitely isn’t about to let his plan go. Now he wants a week with his son, and you know that’s the only way he will do what you need from him. “All right. Can I send you the school’s number so you can make an appointment? I told them you travel a lot, so they’ll need to be flexible.”

“Sure, I’ll call them as soon as I can.” You thank him, and are just about to say goodbye when he speaks up again. “Wait, can you send me a photo or a video?”

“Yeah, I have a few hundred of those,” you reply with a smile.

Oscar remains silent, but he lets out a sigh and you know something is on his mind, something he wants to tell you. “I still have a hard time believing it, you know.”

“You seemed pretty confident when it came to getting to know him.”

“I wanted to use my chance to corner you,” he admits. “But this? That I have a son? Hard to believe.”

“Well, he’s yours. You’ll understand it when you meet him,” you tell him kindly.

After you say goodbye, you go up to check on Oliver and your boyfriend, but by the time you get there, they are sleeping soundly with the open book resting on your son’s chest. With a smile, you take the book and lean down to give both of them a soft kiss. You can’t help but wonder how your little family’s dynamics will change with Oscar’s presence.

Well, it isn’t really your son you are worried about, the main issue is your boyfriend. Oscar is a famous F1 driver, someone your son idolizes, of course he feels threatened. You told him it would be okay, that you didn’t have feelings for him anymore, but he didn’t seem convinced. Maybe if they meet and he sees you are indifferent, he will finally trust you a lot more. One can hope, right?

A bit over a week later Oscar is sitting in his rented car in the school’s parking lot, thinking about how this conversation could go. According to you, they are aware of the fact he didn’t know Oliver existed until recently, so he hopes they don’t expect him to talk about what he’s like. Sure, over the past week he asked you about him, he wanted to prepare for meeting him, but they haven’t met in person. How could he know what to say? After taking a deep breath, he gets out and goes inside, feeling more nervous than he does when he’s getting in the car before a race.

If he’s this nervous now, what will he feel like before meeting his son?

Spending years in a boarding school prepared him for this meeting, and the principal is everything he imagined him to be. He’s polite, not making a fuss over the fact he is–let’s say–famous. He even apologizes for the mess he caused, saying he understands it was probably quite a shock for him, but this is the protocol, and they can’t make an exception. Oscar keeps nodding, even assuring him it’s okay, although deep down he’s still confused and unsure of things.

All of this despite his conversation with his mother, who was overjoyed when she saw a video of Oliver, saying he was truly just like him, and she couldn’t wait to have the chance to meet her grandchild in person. But she also told him maybe this was the best thing that could happen to him. Having a child is truly an experience, and since he was still five, they had the chance to have a wonderful relationship. “You say he loves F1. Just imagine how happy he would be if he could go to some race weekends with you. You could teach him so much about racing, and you could bond over that,” she said.

After he parks in front of your house in the afternoon, Oscar goes to the trunk to get everything he brought with himself. From signed merch from both himself and Lando–just to be sure–to toy racing cars, he has a wide variety of gifts. Something will hopefully become a favorite, an item that he will keep close to himself. Maybe he went overboard, maybe he could’ve brought only one thing, but he had no idea what Oliver liked, so he couldn’t pick just one item.

“Please, don’t tell me you brought all this for him.”

He looks up with a questioning hum, only to find you standing next to him on the sidewalk. Seeing you again brings back memories of your time together, of all of your little adventures during the short time you spent together, and he can’t help but wonder if you fled because you found out you were pregnant. If you didn’t leave him so suddenly, would things be different now? Would you be a big happy family?

Clearing his throat, he flashes a sheepish smile at you. “I couldn’t choose,” he admits as he grabs the duffel bag and follows you to the front door. He can’t help but wonder what he can expect, and he has to ask you the most important thing. “Did you tell him that he was meeting his father today?” You nod. That’s good. “Is he excited?”

You bite on your lower lip as you watch him, clearly thinking about how to answer the question. But after a short break, you let out a sigh. “He’s a little confused, I think. My boyfriend, Alejandro, met him when he was only two, the three of us spent a lot of time together, and he moved in last year. Oliver… He assumed my boyfriend was his dad, which in a way he is, but we had to sit him down and explain the situation to him,” you say, looking sad all of a sudden.

It’s clear now why you were so against telling Oliver the truth. You want him to be close to your boyfriend, and you’re probably afraid things between them will change once he gets into the picture. Maybe you’re even afraid things between you and your boyfriend will change too. He can’t blame you for that, but now that he knows he has a son, Oscar wants to be a part of his life. He doesn’t want to be some asshole who ignored his own blood.

Once inside, he puts the bag on the floor and follows you to the living room where Oliver is watching some cartoon on TV. Now that he sees him in person, he feels warmth spread through his body, because this kid looks exactly like he did at his age. You clear your throat next to him to get your son’s attention, and when the kid notices him, his eyes grow wide from surprise. He gets off the couch and slowly walks over to them, his eyes never leaving his face as he tries to process who their guest is.

“Hello, Oliver,” Oscar says as he crouches down.

“You’re Oscar Piastri!” he yells excitedly.

Oscar can’t help but chuckle at this. “I am.”

You reach out to ruffle your son’s hair, then lean down to be on somewhat eye level with him. “Honey, remember when I said your daddy was going to jump in to see you?” The little boy nods. “It’s Oscar. He’s your dad,” you tell him softly.

Suddenly the excitement is replaced by disbelief, his eyes darting back and forth between the two of you as he tries to process what he’s just been told. The corners of Oscar’s lips curl into a smile as he watches him, waiting patiently for the child’s decision.

“So he’s my dad?” Oliver asks, earning a nod from you. “Does this mean I’m a Piastri?” It’s Oscar’s turn to nod. “Mom, why am I not called Piastri?”

His eyes move over to you just in time to see you gulp, clearly having trouble figuring out what to say to that. He can’t blame you for your confusion, it probably haven’t occurred to you that one day you will have to respond to this question.

With a kind smile, he puts a hand on your arm, then turns to his son. “Because I’ve been away for a little too long. But I’m here, your mom and I can discuss if we could change that if you want,” he finishes, barely daring to glance up at you, expecting to meet an angry look in your eyes.

But you don’t look angry, if anything, you seem relieved that he came to your rescue. There’s a glint in your eyes, though, that tells him you aren’t happy that Oliver brought up his surname. As he thinks about it, it occurs to him that you have mentioned how you considered your boyfriend to be his father in a way, so maybe you will have rather given him his name.

You place a soft kiss on your son’s head, then inform him that you will leave the two of them alone so they can get to know each other. Father and son watches you leave the room, then he turns back to the child with a smile. “I brought you some things. Wanna see them?” he asks him, and when the little boy nods, he goes to grab his bag.

As he opens the zipper, Oliver stands by his side, watching his every move with a happy smile on his face. Oscar pulls out the gifts, one by one, and can’t hold back his laugh as he watches his son proudly wearing his new baseball cap and shirt as he examines the toy car in his small hands. He begins to talk about the last race, excitedly recounting the most memorable moments, including the end when his father crossed the finish line first. His big brown eyes turn to him, then he says that he’s so happy he’s here.

When he wraps his short arms around him, Oscar does the same and even presses a kiss on the kid’s head. There is undeniably a certain connection between them that he can’t explain, but they both know it’s there, otherwise his son probably wouldn’t be this chill with the idea of being alone with a stranger. Okay, that and the fact he’s his favorite driver.

They sit down in the middle of the living room, and Oliver decides to talk about his favorite books, proudly telling his father that he knows how to read, and that, according to you and your boyfriend, he’s really good at it. “The other kids can barely read yet,” he says with a smug smile, “and I’m already learning math!”

“Do you know how to play chess?” Oscar asks him, but the boy only shakes his head. “I should teach you. I started when I was younger than you, and my mom refused to play with me after a while.”

“Because you were so good?”

With a shrug, he stretches his arms above his head. “I don’t know, but I guess I was better than her. Not sure about other people, though,” he admits with a warm smile.

Oliver lets out a thoughtful hum. “Is she as awesome as my mom?” he suddenly asks, looking back at him.

A laugh escapes him at the thought, which makes his son tilt his head to the side in question. “That depends on who you ask. She loves to embarrass me online, which isn’t always a good thing, but I love her, she’s the best mum I could ask for. And there are a lot of people, especially my fans, who absolutely adore her for this gentle bullying,” he adds with a laugh.

“My mom would never do that,” Oliver states, his little nose scrunching at the thought. “She loves me too much.”

The two of them spend the next hour or so talking, sometimes stopping when the little boy gets distracted by something he caught on TV. But he seems interested, he wants to learn as much as he can, and it’s true the other way around, because Oscar asks a lot of questions too. He hasn’t even noticed how much time have passed until you walk in to tell your son it’s time for dinner, a statement that comes with the question whether or not his dad is allowed to stay.

You don’t let him stay, saying he’s probably tired from traveling so much, then give him a begging look to make him speak up too. Oscar lets out a sigh and forced a smile on his face. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be back tomorrow. I’m staying for a few days and your mum let me come to see you every day,” he says happily. “In fact, I’ll be looking out for you tomorrow while she’s at work. How does that sound?”

Oliver squeals from happiness before he hugs you both, thanking you over and over again for letting him come over. “Can we go to the zoo?” he asks with bright eyes as he looks over at his father.

“Sure, whatever you want,” Oscar responds with a nod.

“Okay, time to wash your hands, Alejandro will be home soon, so we can start to eat,” you ask your son. Once he says goodbye to Oscar and disappears, you turn to him with a forced smile. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

With a sigh, he steps closer to you. “You were right, he’s a lot like me,” he begins quietly, then stops to consider what to say.

He knows deep down that you want him to stay away, you don’t want him to ruin the balance of your little family, but how can he give you that after getting to know his son? Oliver is his blood, he’s truly a mini version of him, there’s no way he will turn his back on him now.

You know. After all these years, despite your time together being so short, you still know him well enough to know what was going on in his head. “Just don’t break his heart, okay?” you ask, earning a nod from him. “Thanks for… everything. Tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow. Have a good night.”

“Are you a hundred percent sure you want to take him to the zoo?” his mother asks later that day when he calls her.

Despite being excited to hear everything about her grandson, she seems a little uncertain since hearing about his plan for the next day. Oscar, obviously, knows the problem. Oliver looks just like him, if people see them together—and they will, there’s always someone who recognizes him—the rumors will spread like wildfire along with some photos to prove it.

And then some journalist will figure out he’s your son, and they’ll check every paparazzi photo of him with his past girlfriends.

So, yeah, he knows the risks, but deep down he doesn’t care. And if they find out, then what? He likes this kid, he wants to be a part of his life, he wants to be the kind of father Oliver deserves.

“Sooner or later the secret would be out, Mum,” he points out.

She lets out a sigh. “Yeah, but are his mother and her boyfriend ready for this?”

Crap. This he selfishly didn’t consider.

The two of them chat a little longer, and this time he’s willing to listen to a lecture and some advice without interrupting his mother. He needs all the help he can get at this point. Anything to make the right decision at the end of the day.

Two hours later he’s standing in front of your house, leaning against the side of the car with his phone in hand. His thumb hovers over your name as he’s trying to decide whether or not to call you at this time of the night.

The clock says it’s almost midnight. Maybe you’re already sleeping, maybe—

“Oscar?”

His head snaps up, and he sees you stand in the door. Gulping, he pushes himself away from the vehicle and walks over to you. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but we need to talk,” he says.

You nod. “Okay, I’m all ears.”

And then he explains everything; the zoo, the possibility of the world finding out his connection to Oliver, the rumors, the gossip sites, the scrutiny. This is more than what you went through while dating him, and it will affect all three of you.

He can see the exact moment you understand the weight of it all, he sees the way the blood drains from your face and you rub your eyes with the heel of your palms.

This is the point where you’ll say that’s enough, Oscar’s sure of it, but then tears appear in your eyes, and he instinctively cups your face to force you to look at him. He doesn’t have to ask anything, you start to talk without his question.

“Alejandro moved out. Temporarily, at least that’s what he said. Oliver… He kept talking about you, about how cool it is that you’re his father, and he got a little upset that I didn’t point out he was technically a stranger unlike the man who’s been raising him.”

With a sigh, Oscar pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay. I can talk to him if you want me to,” he offers.

You look him in the eye, then shake your head. “No, and… I think you shouldn’t be around Oliver either. Birthday, Christmas, one visit during the summer break. The only times you can see him,” you state quietly.

“What? No!”

“Do what’s the best for him. Please.”

For a moment, Oscar hesitates. Yes, he understands your point, but he doesn’t want to let go of his son. Not now that he knows what a cool kid he has. Anger slowly takes over, and before he can stop himself, he says, “Don’t want me to start a custody battle,” he says.

“Come on, you travel around the world for the best part of the year, you’re single as far as I know, no judge would give you custody.”

He’s not like this, he barely loses his temper, but now he’s so angry he might blow up. “Why do you have to complicate things every single time?!” he spits. “I’ll talk to your boyfriend and put an end to this nonsense. He’ll have to accept that I’m here, and I’m here to say. Damn it, I’ll even move here if that’s the only way I can be around Oliver.”

This leaves you speechless, and then you just slap him across the face and march back inside the house.

Well, that’s not what he expected.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula 1

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