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#formula one fanfic
slutforln4 · 1 day
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COME ONLINE.
🖇️ lando norris x reader
🖇️ in which, you and your boyfriend have a little bit of fun while he’s streaming.
🖇️ warnings: smut, virtual exhibitionism sorta??, bj
🖇️ author’s note: this is horrific and short, but i don’t want to keep you guys waiting for fics for months again haha
࿐ ࿔*:・゚
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“Mate, what the fuck are you doing?”
Max’s voice echoes in Lando’s headphones, distracting him from the only thing he’s focused on— you.
You look up at him from under the desk, unusually cold fingertips trailing up the distressed man’s thighs. He’s been trying his hardest not to break, to not show that you’ve been teasing him for the past eight minutes, with your hands ghosting over his bulge, softly tracing his thighs or the addicting way you lick your pretty lips.
“The game lagged.” He makes up an excuse for the awful few shots he placed in the surrounding trees, instead of the enemy. You stifle a giggle at his successful lie, fingers still toying with the hemline of his shorts.
Max rolls his eyes. “You’re just bad at the game.”
Lando ignores Max’s comment, too busy biting back a moan the second your hands palm him through his boxers. The mere feeling of your slender fingers sliding up his length, already throbbing for the feel of your mouth on him.
It’s a while before you do anything, and by the time you touch him again, Lando’s focusing on the game with no regard for the pretty girl kneeling in front of him. His fingers hastily press the buttons on his keyboard, eyes intensely tracking any movement on the screen. “I got one,” he says, eyes stuck to the screen.
Lando doesn’t react when you trail a finger up his thigh again, this time underneath his boxers. It takes a moment for Lando to notice the gentle tug at his boxers. It takes another moment for him to notice the kisses you place on his thighs, starting at his knee and ending at the base of his dick. His breath hitches when you start licking up his length, taking your sweet time in teasing him, making sure to give him a hard time keeping quiet on stream.
Max mutters something, but Lando’s too distracted by your lips softly sucking on his tip to even talk. He’s aimlessly walking around the area of his game, trying not to get into any trouble both online and in reality. It takes everything in him not to moan when you take his dick into your mouth, softly stroking the part that doesn’t fit.
“I’ve died.” Lando says, trying to keep his breathing steady while looking down at the view in front of him— his girl on her knees, taking him even in the virtual presence of others. He never knew you had this side to you, so he was shocked when you suggested the idea of giving him head while he’s playing.
Lando hears a noise in his headphones that indicated someone subscribing to his channel. “Noelle, thank you for the sub. Appreciate it.”
You freeze. Lando notices it, looking back down at you with a sort of darkness in his eyes. You hadn’t known he was on stream, and the notion of that shook you to your core. But it also excited you. How far could you push Lando before he inevitably breaks? How bad would the consequences be? A plethora of questions swirled in your brain, all while you were still toying with the man in front of you.
Lando watched as you stroked him, feeling all his walls come crashing down the second your lips wrapped around his length. He tried his damn best not to show it on stream, but he was a fucking mess. he takes his bottom lip between his teeth the second you start doing that thing with your tongue that always drives him crazy.
It drives him so crazy that he has to focus his attention on not making a face, trying his best to keep his eyes on the screen and read the chat. He can’t even speak, the only thing helping the silence from him was the music, that seemed to be awfully fitting for the situation he’s in. He can hear Max complaining about the enemy team, but he can’t even laugh about it, his whole career at risk for the mere touch of your lips.
He feels the warmth fill his lower abdomen and knows he won’t be able to get away with the microexpressions turning macro. Eitherway, he risks it. When you quicken your strokes and movement of your head, Lando seeks strength in clinging onto the headrest of his chair, bicep bulging through his black shirt and you’re sure you’ll see plenty of pictures of your boyfriend being a pathetic mess.
It’s fun toying with him. It’s easy to make him flustered and desperate for you, but it was just as easy to make him so angry he’ll fuck you til your legs shake. You contemplate the idea of not letting him cum and instead leaving him to continue the stream with a hard-on or risking the possibility of a moan slipping past his lips and having it circulate the internet til the end of time.
Your decision becomes easier to make when Lando leans back in his chair, the back of his hand covering his mouth while the other is still holding onto the chair for dear life. His pretty eyes are hidden by his tightly shut eyelids, as he tries his best not to let a sound escape his lips.
It takes a few more strokes until he’s throbbing and coming undone. You feel the hot liquid trickle down your throat and you swallow every last drop. The heaving of his chest and silent whimpers don’t go unnoticed by you when you pull away and wipe the side of your mouth with your sleeve.
A shy smile plays on your lips when Lando drops his arms into his lap, now covered by the boxers you pulled back up. He’s a heaving mess, face red and sweaty.
“You alright, mate?” Max asks, concern lacing his voice as he notices the heavy breathing echoing through his headphones.
Lando looks down at you, biting his bottom lip as he hastily nods. “Yeah, never been better. I’ll head out now, got some things I need to take care of. Bye, chat.”
When the stream ends and the only presence in Lando’s room are him and you, he helps you up from the floor and brings you to his bed. You lay down and he lays beside you, hands touring your body and lips never leaving your neck.
Little did he know, his name was trending. And not for the right reasons.
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scuderiahoney · 1 day
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Oscar Piastri x Reader // In Motion Pt. 5
Summary: one plane ride, a little sunburn, and far too many margaritas to count. 6.0k words
Warnings: alcohol, mention of previous sports injury
It’s a lazy Saturday morning. You’d showed up at the house an hour ago and planted yourself on the couch. Charles had been in the overstuffed armchair, and he’d barely batted an eye when you walked in, too engrossed in his TV show. Lando and Max had wandered downstairs eventually, and piled onto the couch with you. One by one, everyone else wakes up and comes downstairs. They have practice in a couple hours, but none of them are in a rush. Instead, they all choose to scatter around the living room. Charles turns on Planet Earth. Everyone’s engrossed by it.
“Hey, my aunt wants to know if we still want the house for spring break,” George says, looking up from his phone as a school of fish swims by on the TV screen.
Lando, whose head was previously buried under a pillow, sits up. “Obviously.”
“The house?” Oscar asks, and when everyone turns to look at him, he deflates. “Sorry, none of my business.”
George’s phone rings, and he answers and wanders off into the kitchen, chattering away. You’re perked up now, blinking around the room. There are smiles on everyone’s faces, now, at the mention of spring break. You’re all in desperate need of some time off.
Max turns to look at Oscar, arms raised above his head in a stretch. “Piastri. D’you have any plans for the break?”
“Not really?” He says, shrugging.
Max nods. “Cool. You do now.”
Max flops back over onto the couch, and so does Lando, effectively burying you once again.
Oscar turns to look at you, brows furrowed. “What did I just sign up for?”
You sit up from underneath Lando and Max, who groan loudly. “George’s aunt has a really nice beach house. We go there for spring break.”
Oscar raises his eyebrows. “Oh. You know, I didn’t mean to invite myself, and you guys-“
“Shut up,” Lando says, face half buried in the arm of the couch. “You’re going. It’s tradition.”
…..
The only thing worse than navigating an airport is doing it early in the morning with 6 hockey players in tow. You’d think they’d be good at travel with all the away games, but they’re not used to having to get themselves places. Lando almost leaves his luggage at the house, Max almost forgets his whole wallet, and you’re sure Alex would’ve been left behind completely if it wasn’t for Lily. Oscar’s the only self sufficient one, likely because he’s been living on his own for so long now. You think of him having to travel to games with his old team, wonder if he wandered around airports alone, and your chest aches. But he’s next to you, smiling brightly, suitcase in hand and clad in a hoodie and sweatpants. Lando’s ordering a beer from the bar. It’s 6am.
Max tries to usher the whole group towards the gate, like he hasn’t been the most scatterbrained person all morning. You let him feel like he’s in charge. It helps his ego. It’s not long before people get distracted- George wants a bagel, Charles wants to look at souvenirs, which is ridiculous considering you haven’t left yet, and Lily wants coffee. Max looks panicked as everyone starts to wander.
You clear your throat. “Okay. Lily, George, and I are going to that coffee shop,” you say, pointing at the one nearest your gate, “to get breakfast and coffee. Charles and Max will go in the shop. The rest of you can join whichever group, or you can wait at the gate. We’ll all be back here in 20 minutes.”
Max looks relieved, even as Charles drags him towards a stand full of license plate magnets with names on them. You head for the coffee shop, and find Oscar’s opted to join, too. Lando and Alex stay at the gate, guarding all the suitcases.
An hour later, you’re all seated on the plane, much to your and Max’s relief. George booked the flights for everyone so he could use his parents’ airline miles, and so you have no idea where you’re sitting until you actually get on the plane. You slip into your window seat, and Oscar stops at your row with a smile. He’s in the middle. George is on his other side. Up ahead, you see Lily, Alex, and Charles, and Max and Lando in front of them. You pity whoever the stranger is that will have to put up with Max and Lando in their row. Oscar helps put your carry on up above, and everyone settles in for the flight.
After takeoff, you push the window shade up. The sun is just barely starting to rise, and you’re already exhausted. Oscar leans close to peer out the window. He hums softly, pointing down below.
“You can see the house from here,” he points out, and you laugh.
He’s right. You can. The house, the ice rink, the soccer fields, they all disappear below. You wave goodbye, and Oscar laughs and does the same. Then you lean over and fall asleep, head resting on his shoulder. He doesn’t seem to mind.
…..
The eight of you descend on the beach house in a flurry of activity. It’s bright and sunny out, and you all wear sunglasses as you haul the luggage into the house. George points everyone to their rooms- you’re glad to learn you have the same one for the third year in a row, up on the second floor, with a nice view of the ocean and a room to yourself. Lando and Oscar are sharing, as are Max and Charles. Lily and Alex get a room, and George gets his own room. Charles offers to take your luggage upstairs for you, and you accept happily.
By the time everyone returns downstairs, you’ve made a grocery list. Max looks at it over your shoulder and nods in approval. There’s a little store within walking distance that should have everything you need. When Max suggests you all go to help carry bags, Lando groans loudly, already complaining about a headache or a sore back or whatever ailment will get him out of it. In the end, it’s you, Max, Charles, and Oscar who head off to the grocery store.
When you get back, you unload things in the kitchen, the four of you moving around each other with ease. Oscar drops the juice and you giggle, Charles hugs the bag of cheese puffs to his chest like a little kid, and Max starts pulling ingredients to make a late lunch.
“M’hungry,” Lando calls out.
“Thought you had a headache,” you call back, smirking as he walks into the kitchen.
“Back ache,” he corrects, smiling sheepishly. “Come on, you know plane seats suck.”
You roll your eyes at him, but you hand him the bottle of painkillers you picked up at the store. He gives you an easy side hug in thanks. Lando offers to help Max make lunch, and you retreat to the back deck for the first time this trip. You breathe in deep as the sun hits your skin, as the sound of the ocean fills your ears. It feels like the whole world is in front of you, stretching on and on.
Oscar walks out behind you, doing basically the same. “Wow.”
Alex and Lily are down near the water, and when he spots the two of you, he waves you over. “Low tide!” He calls out, grinning widely. “There’s starfish!”
You turn to Oscar with a grin, and then the two of you run down the shore to meet them. The stress of the school year starts to slip off your shoulders. For now, it’s just sun and sand and nothing else.
…..
Spring break, as it always does and definitely should, tastes like pineapple and coconut rum and frozen margaritas made in the ancient blender that somehow still works. It smells like sunscreen, the reef safe kind that Oscar insists everyone uses. It feels like sand stuck between your toes, like the crash of the waves against your legs, like the heat of the sun on your skin.
“Why couldn’t you guys be, like, professional surfers?” You ask, face half pressed into the giant beach towel you’re laying on. “This is where I’m supposed to spend all my time, not in an ice box.”
Max laughs and tosses a foam football at you. “You chose the school, too, you know. And you love watching hockey.”
“Max would be shit at surfing,” Charles pipes up, and though his eyes are hidden behind sunglasses you can tell they’re crinkled with amusement. “He is not very good at balance. Like Bambi.”
Max scoffs, picks up the ball he’d thrown at you, and chucks it at Charles’ head. Charles dodges it with a squeak and runs after it in the sand. Max follows, likely afraid of the retaliation that’s coming his way.
“Osc, you’re from Australia,” you say. “Have you surfed?”
Oscar’s laid out next to you, in the shaded portion of the blanket thanks to the umbrella George put up. He burns easily, apparently. You’d told him that you weren’t surprised, based solely on the pale tone of his skin, and he’d glared at you unhappily and then chased you into the waves. Now he lays there, face smashed against the blanket, same as you. It’s mid afternoon. He’s usually a bit sleepy in the afternoons, you’ve found.
He nods, prying one eye open. “Not any good, though.”
You scoff out a laugh. He grins back at you. There’s sand stuck in his eyebrow, and you’re about to reach out and brush it away when a shadow falls over you. You look up and find George standing there. Lily, Lando and Alex are following him up the beach.
“Margarita time?” George asks, grinning happily. You push yourself halfway up, propping up on your elbows, and nod your head. “It’s always margarita time, Georgie.”
Dinner that night is grilled shrimp and veggies and bread warmed up in the oven that all the boys eat too much of, promising not to tell their coaches. Someone asks Oscar to say “throw another shrimp on the Barbie,” which then devolves into bad attempts at Australian accents, which then further devolves into bad attempts at everyone’s accents. You’re left laughing so hard your stomach hurts, the sun setting, the warm ocean air washing over your arms on the back deck.
Oscar’s sitting next to you, and he wipes your tears of laughter away with a napkin and says, “You alright, love?” in what can only be a bad attempt at Lando’s accent.
You snort with laughter. The noise sends Oscar into a fit of giggles, too, and soon the two of you are bent over in your chairs, heads bumping into each others, as Lando tries to insist he doesn’t sound like that and Max assures him that he definitely does. When you finally catch your breath and sit up, they’re moving on to mocking Sebastian’s accent, because they always start making fun of their coach eventually. Lily’s watching you, though, a knowing look in her eyes.
You sit on the beach blanket next to the water after dinner, another margarita in your hand. There’s far too much salt on the rim- courtesy of Alex, who’d coated nearly the whole cup in it- which makes it taste a bit like the ocean. Oscar’s sitting next to you, a cup of his own in his hand. The sun is low in the sky, the horizon turning the lightest shade of purple as it turns to night. Oscar’s bare thigh brushes against yours, and you hold your breath.
The back door to the house slides open, and you turn to look. It’s Charles. “We are going to the store,” he calls out. “Are you coming?”
You wrinkle your nose. “None of you are driving, right?”
Charles shakes his head. “We will walk. We want snacks, and we are out of tequila.”
You nod. “I’ll stay here!”
“Me too,” Oscar adds.
“Okay, I am trusting you two,” Charles teases. “Don’t burn the house down.”
Charles calls out something unintelligible and probably not in English. Inside, you hear Max yell for him, also not in English. The door shuts. Oscar sucks in a sharp breath. There’s tequila in your bloodstream and salt on your lips and the heat of his leg next to yours. You close your eyes, the sea breeze dancing over your skin, and you can still feel his lips on your cheek after that game, weeks ago now. You sit for a while, basking in it.
A few minutes later, present day Oscar’s shoulder bumps against yours. You open your eyes and turn to look at him. His cheeks are rosy pink. You wonder if he’d put enough sunscreen on.
“This is really nice,” he says, softly.
The sand is turning cold beneath your feet. You shiver slightly. He leans into you, warm arm pressed to yours, thigh pressing tighter against your skin. Your heart stutters in your chest.
“Mhm,” you agree, blinking softly at him and biting your lower lip, just to watch and see the way his eyes dart across your face. “George’s aunt is a sweetheart for letting us stay here.”
Oscar hums in agreement, but he shakes his head, hair flopping over his forehead in a soft swoop. “I meant… this.”
He nudges his leg against yours. Your stomach lurches in the best kind of way. He’s leaning back on the heels of his hands and staring at you while the waves crash onto the shore. His thumb brushes against the back of your hand, tiny grains of sand rolling between his skin and yours. You feel the electricity simmer up your arm and zap down your spine.
“Oh. Yeah,” you say, nodding in agreement. “It is.”
You’re not sure whether to laugh or cry or scream. He’s so close you swear you can feel his heartbeat, or maybe it’s just yours, pounding in your chest, going wild over the way he’s staring at you. He lifts his hand from the sand, the one farthest from you, keeps his other arm pressed to yours as he turns just slightly. When his hand comes up to cup your cheek, it feels so familiar. You remember blue paint on his thumb, brushed off on his pants, the poster leaning against the wall and his lips on your cheek. You want it again. You want more. You swear he leans in.
There’s a loud noise from inside the house, and he drops his hand into his lap. Your heart twists in your chest. You can feel the ghost of his fingertips on your skin when the back door opens. George yells something about playing flip cup. You don’t want to play flip cup- you want to stay here with Oscar and let him kiss you like you thought he was going to. But his hand is in his lap now, and he smiles sheepishly and starts to stand up, and you wonder if you imagined all of it.
…..
Two nights later, when everyone has gone to bed, you find yourself still wide awake. You’re buzzing, probably from the afternoon coffee you grabbed with Charles and Oscar at the cafe down the street. Max had said it was a bad idea. Charles is dead asleep upstairs, because caffeine has never really affected him. You’re busy thinking about two nights ago, Oscar’s hand on your face and the way he looked at you. You know it happened. You swear it happened. He’d been about to kiss you. Right? Maybe you're imagining things. Maybe it’s all in your head.
You’re sitting on the couch near the window, the glass of water Max poured you before he went to bed sitting half empty in your hand. You nearly spill it when someone clears their throat. You know without turning to look that it’s Oscar.
You stare out the window at the ocean. “Might go take a walk down by the water,” you suggest, just to see if he takes the bait.
Oscar hums. “I’d better go with. For safety, you know.”
You nod in agreement, not really seeing the need to protest. It’s a silly excuse, but you want him to come with. The two of you head for the doors, slipping in sandals along the way. The night air is cool, and you shiver slightly as you make your way down the beach. The sand is still sun warmed but cooling fast. The crash of the waves against the shore makes you sigh softly.
Oscar’s only a few steps behind you. The moon isn’t out yet, but you catch sight of a few stars in the sky. You stop at the spot where the waves meet the sand, and he walks up next to you. When you turn to look over your shoulder, all the lights in the house are off except the living room light the two of you left on. Oscar looks, too, and then steps closer. You feel like you should hold your breath, but you don’t. The air smells like salt. You wonder if the smell has seeped into Oscar’s hair and skin, or if he still smells like his shampoo and body wash. You hate that you know the scents of both.
“I love the ocean,” Oscar says, not for the first time that day.
You nod. “Me too.”
His fingers brush against yours where your hands hang at your sides. It sends a zap all the way up your arm, straight to your spine. Does he feel it too? That giddy feeling in your chest? The anxious feeling in the back of your brain? The want, deep in your gut, that makes you want to turn and press your lips to his. Does he feel it, too? You’d take a kiss on the forehead. Or another kiss on the cheek. Or just- if he would just move his hand a couple inches, just intertwine your fingers with his-
Like he’s read your mind, he does. He twists his fingers between yours loosely. You nearly choke on your own breath. Get it together. Your heart aches. You need, you want, does he?
“I…” he starts, then stops.
You turn. He’s already looking at you, face half lit up by the light on the back deck of the house. His lips look soft. They were, the one time you’ve felt them, pressed to your cheek in that hallway. His fingers fidget in yours, but he doesn’t pull away. You don’t either. The waves crash onto the shore over and over again. The sleeve of his hoodie brushes against your jaw when he cups the side of your face in his other hand. This time, you’re sure of it. You know what’s coming. He leans in, and you close your eyes.
If a kiss on the cheek sent butterflies wild in your stomach, this sends them through your whole body. Every nerve is on fire when his lips meet yours. Maybe it’s just because you’ve been waiting for so long. He’s warm against you, and his hand leaves your wrist to wrap around your waist and pull you close, and he tastes like rum and salt and smells like sunscreen. You tilt your head and let him deepen the kiss, let him take the lead, let him in. He’s smiling into it, and it makes your heart ache. When you tangle your hands in his hair, you can feel the sand stuck there, can feel the salt that still coats the strands from his swim earlier in the day. His hand slips to the back of your neck to hold you closer, and you melt for him, for the way he holds you so carefully and so surely, the warmth of him burning up your skin. He giggles into the kiss, light and airy and so Oscar it almost hurts, and you can’t help but match it.
He kisses you for what feels like forever. You can’t find it in you to complain.
…..
The rest of spring break tastes like coconut rum and tequila and Oscar. It feels like sun and sand and his hand wrapped up in yours, sneaking away at any chance you get. It smells like sunscreen and his cologne on the hoodie you stole from him, and it sounds like seagulls and his laughter, and the words he whispers into your ears when nobody’s nearby.
He steals you away while you’re in town, wandering the shops with everyone. He’s good at melting away into a crowd- and it is crowded, it’s spring break and everyone’s had the same idea as you. You hide in a souvenir store while you watch your friends disappear, and you don’t even feel guilty about it. You can’t, not when Oscar’s tangling his fingers with yours and pointing at a little beaded bracelet he says would look good on you. When he takes it up to the counter and buys it, and then loops it around your wrist for you, you feel absolutely giddy. You feel it even more when he kisses your temple sweetly. You rejoin the group a while later, just as they’re starting to worry. Nobody notices the bracelet, but you run your fingers over the beads all day.
Later in the week, he suggests a trip to the ice cream shop when everyone’s half asleep, mid afternoon. You’re tired, too, but when he says it, you suddenly feel wide awake. Once the two of your are out of sight of the house, he pulls you under his arm, hand squeezing at your shoulder the whole walk there. He buys you ice cream and shares his with you, too, and when he stops to kiss you on the walk back he tastes sweeter than ever.
There’s a lot of that- kissing. Anytime the two of you are alone. It’s overwhelming in the best way. Like the two of you have been holding back for so long that you can’t quite find it in you to stop. You sneak out of your rooms after everyone has gone to bed and meet on the beach at night, just the sea and the stars bearing witness as it all falls into place. You point out constellations, and Oscar tells you about the night sky in Australia, and how it feels different here. He finds you seashells admiring the way and gives them to you at night, and you start doing the same, each of you building up collections. They cover the empty space on the nightstand in your room.
One afternoon, you walk to the park nearby, all together, with a little picnic. It’s sweet- Max and Lando throw a football back and forth, and you sit in the grass and have cheese and crackers and fruit and watch people pass by. Eventually, George, Alex, and Lily head back to start dinner, and then Max, Lando, and Charles leave to pick up drinks on the way home. You and Oscar linger, though. They make it so easy to sneak away, really. You take the chance to lay on the blanket with him, your bed on his stomach, staring up at puffy white clouds in the big blue sky. His hand draws patterns on your shoulders.
When you finally head for the house, you walk past a set of soccer goals on a patch of grass. It’s easier, now, especially because it’s not the field where you got hurt. Oscar squeezes your hand anyways. It’s sweet. Something makes you slow to a stop. There’s a ball sitting there, in the middle of the field, black and white in stark contrast to the green. You drop his hand, and he makes a mild sound of protest. You walk over to the ball and toe at it gingerly, feeling the way it rolls under your foot.
He just eyes you carefully,
“We’ll take it easy,” you promise, and he nods. “I just…”
You can’t explain it. For years, you’ve never wanted to go near a soccer field or goal or ball. For years, this idea has brought tears to your eyes. But right now, you want to try. Oscar takes a step closer. He’s smiling.
You kick the ball at his feet. He passes it lightly back to you. The two of you exchange a look and take off down the grass together. You zig zag to every corner of the grass, not trying to get anywhere in any sort of hurry. You build up speed as you get closer and close to the goal, passing the ball back and forth with him. It feels good, to move your body and feel the grass beneath your feet. To feel the ball bounce off your shoe, to watch him accept the pass that you’ve placed so perfectly. You’re rusty, stiff, out of practice, but a little part of this still feels like home. There’s an achy feeling in your body that starts to melt away.
You don’t even realize what you’re doing, at first. He passes you the ball, and you’re in range of the net, and- you dart around him, eyes on the prize, now. He laughs, tries to go after you, catching on nearly immediately. But you’re too good at this, too fast- he’s used to blades on his feet and ice beneath him, not tennis shoes and grass and a ball rolling in front of you. You look up, find the goal, see your spot, and kick.
It sails through the air, hits the net, and falls to the ground. Goal. Behind you, Oscar cheers loud enough that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s all still there. That you’re really playing soccer, in front of a crowd again, scoring a goal, taking your team to a victory. You soak it in, for just a moment.
When you open your eyes, you’re on your back, staring at the sky, Oscar’s face looking down at you. His brows are furrowed.
“You’re not hurt, are you?” He asks.
You shake your head. You know the tears in your eyes must contradict that. Oscar shifts on his feet for a second and then collapses to the ground next to you, legs kicked out away from yours, his head right next to your shoulder. The two of you form a little v on the grass, staring up at the sky.
“I didn’t realize how much I missed that,” you admit. “The… running, and the chasing, and the… scoring.”
His hand brushes against yours, then comes down to lay flat atop the back of it. His palm is warm and soft. You try to breathe normally. It’s easier said than done.
“You could always try again,” he says, quietly. “Do a club sport, or a league of some sort…”
You shake your head. “Nah, my knee is already starting to hurt.”
You rub your fingers against the ache. He sighs, heavily, and squeezes your hand. You turn your head to look at him. He’s close, closer than you realized. It wouldn’t take much for you to lean in, and nobody else is here, so you do. Just a short kiss, because you’re laying on a soccer field and there are kids and families nearby. But you want him to know how much this means to you. When you pull away, his cheeks are pink, and you think he understands.
Eventually, you know everyone will start to wonder where the two of you are. So when Oscar stands up and offers you a hand, you let him pull you up off the ground. He brushes grass off your back, and when you get back to the house, you head upstairs to change and hope nobody questions the grass stains on your shirt.
One night, after everyone’s in bed, you curl up on the beach on a blanket, your head against his chest. You listen to the waves and stare up at the stars. He draws lazy patterns on your back, his hand against your bare skin under the sweatshirt you stole from him.
“This is a real thing, right?” He says, quietly. “Not just a spring break thing?”
You smile into his chest, your cheeks suddenly warm. “God, I would hope so.”
“Okay, cool,” he says, in a very calm voice, like you can’t hear the thud of his heartbeat. “Cause I‘ve wanted this for a while.”
“Me too,” you murmur back.
Then he kisses you again, hand under your chin to pull your face to his. He’s a little sunburnt, and you can feel the heat of it on his skin when you brush your lips against his cheeks. Then again, maybe he’s just blushing. The way he smiles makes you think that might just be it.
…..
Keeping it from the rest of your friends is sort of… unspoken. It’s easy, like this, just the two of you. Easy to kiss and hold and talk and laugh without the pressure. You try to remind yourself that it’s okay to take it slow. That you have time to figure things out. And it’s easier to figure things out when you don’t have 6 other people’s opinions on it, let alone the whole team’s once they all find out. Whenever someone walks into the room and Oscar pulls his hand from yours, he scans your face, like he’s checking to make sure it’s okay. You always smile in return, and he lets out a little relieved sigh.
The very last night, you all order large amounts of pizza and breadsticks, and you spread out on blankets on the beach for dinner. The sun is low in the sky, and everything is golden. Oscar finds a spot next to you, laid out on the blanket. Max is already talking hockey plays, Lando listening intently while Alex rolls his eyes. George, Charles, and Lily are chatting about starfish. And Oscar is watching you, eyelashes fluttering against pink tinged cheeks. He’s being painfully obvious. When you smile back, you know you are too. For a moment, though, it doesn’t matter. Nobody’s paying attention anyways, as he brushes his fingers against the back of your hand where it lays on the blanket. It’s just you and him, for just a moment.
The next morning, before you head to the airport, you wake up early and find Oscar in the kitchen, cutting up fruit. His hair is a tousled mess, eyelids heavy, but when he sees you, he smiles, bright and warm and sweet. You walk over and slip between him and the counter, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“I was busy, you know,” he mumbles, though he doesn’t pull away when you lean in to kiss him.
“Mm,” you sigh. He tastes sweeter than normal. He’s definitely been sneaking bites of fruit as he goes. “Mango. My favorite.”
His cheeks are flushed. “Thought I was your favorite.”
You shrug and wink. “Close second.”
He swipes a piece off the counter behind you and presses it to your lips. You give him a closed lip smile as you eat it, feeling warm all over. He leans in and kisses you again when you’re done chewing, and you have the sudden, strong urge to pull him close, to press your hips into his, to let him pin you against the counter. But your friends are probably all about to wake up, so instead, you pull away and press a finger into the swell of his cheek. He laughs and kisses the furrow between your brows.
“Heading home today,” he mumbles, smile falling slightly.
You nod. “But it’s not just a spring break thing, remember?”
He nods again, the smile coming back to his lips. “Yeah. Just. Do you think we need to tell them?”
You know what he’s talking about. Or who he’s talking about, really. You tilt your head, chewing on your lower lip. “Do you think we need to?”
He sighs, nose bumping against yours. “They’re your best friends.”
And. Oh. Right. You hadn’t really thought about it like that, that it’s not just his teammates and your friends. It’s Lando and Max. Your chest twists. You like that it’s just you and Oscar, but you think about them, about how you share everything, and you wonder if they’ll be upset. Not even that it’s him, but just that you didn’t tell them. On the other hand, they’re likely to get overprotective and weird when they do find out. Max banned a guy you went on a date with from all parties your sophomore year, until Charles told him off for it, but by then it was too late. The guy was a jerk, which was half the issue, but still.
You blow out a puff of air, and then you have an idea. “I might… tell them I’m seeing someone, to start,” you suggest. “Just not who. Just… someone. Is that okay?” You ask.
“I think that’s a good idea,” he says.
“Okay. Cool. Me too,” you say with a nod.
Oscar giggles. You hear a door open, and footsteps. He groans, and you lean in one last time to press a kiss to his lips before you slip away. You sit down on a barstool just before George walks in, scrubbing sleep from his eyes.
“Morning,” he says, voice scratchy. “Ready to go home?”
“No,” you admit, and Oscar hums in agreement.
When he dishes out the fruit to everyone later, he gives you most of the mango. You grin up at him, wide eyed and feeling so, so happy. When you break his gaze and look across the table, you find Charles staring back at you, a knowing smirk on his face, and you wonder if you’ve been caught. Maybe you just look like a girl with a crush. You still feel like one, really.
You all walk down to the water one last time, dipping your feet into the waves as they crash against the sand. Oscar’s hand brushes against yours as he does the same. You don’t want to ever lose this feeling. The sun on your skin, the water tugging at your feet, and Oscar, next to you, feeling the same way you do.
When you pack the bags into the Uber to head for the airport, you feel a wave of sadness wash over you. You want nothing more than to stay, to never worry about school again, to let Oscar wrap you up in his arms and never leave. You pout, and Max catches you, laughing and pulling you into a loose hug.
“It’s okay, Bunny,” he murmurs, ruffling your hair. “We’ll be back before you know it.”
You don’t say it, but you think it- he and Lando are graduating this year. There’s a good chance they won’t be back next year, too busy with work or real life or whatever comes after college for them. Your heart twists. And Oscar- will he still be yours by then? Not just a spring break thing, you remember, but you have a strong urge to plant your feet in the sand and try to keep them all here. You watch your friends pack bags in the trunk and tease each other and laugh and your chest aches.
“Hey,” Lando says, quietly, sneaking up your other side. “We’ll be back.”
He knows. Max does too, but Lando really knows, because you think he feels it too. Max is trying to play hockey after college, but beyond beer leagues and pickup games, this year will be it for Lando. Senior year is exciting, but it’s a year full of lasts, too.
“Promise?” You ask, quietly.
He links his pinky with yours. “Promise.”
So you climb into the car, and you end up wedged between Oscar and Charles in the row of seats at the back of the car. Max is in the front seat, chatting away to the driver, and Lando’s already leaning his head against the door, half asleep. You press your shoulder into Oscar’s. He spots your hand on the seat between you and reaches out, brushes his fingers against the back of your hand. When you lean your head on his shoulder and let your eyes fall half closed, nobody questions it- you do it to all of them, all the time.
The beach house disappears in the rearview. Oscar presses a kiss to the top of your head when nobody’s looking, and you start to believe everything will really be okay.
bunnyrabb1t
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bunnyrabb1t truly a spring break to remember forever
landonorris still annoyed you and @/oscarpiastri didn’t bring me ice cream back :(
oscarpiastri You were invited & you called our ice cream trip dumb
landonorris doesn’t mean i didn’t want ice cream
lilymhe always a trip to remember with you babe!
bunnyrabb1t ilysm bb 😘
alex_albon hey. back off 🤺
oscarpiastri 🩵☀️🌊⛱️
bunnyrabb1t 🩵🌅🐚🕶️
charles_leclerc 🤨
carlossainz55 charles you are just jealous he is actually on her instagram before you
notes: hiiiiiiii hope this one was worth the wait!! if you are one of the people who told me you were staying up late for this: go to sleep! this is me tucking you in! see ya soon!!
series taglist: @sourskywalker @ivyvlair @gwginnyweasley @annispamz @bearlul @aresriiots @ggaslyp1 @putting-it-into-parc @black-fireproofs @smilinlemon @arieslost @floralkoi @vicurious28 @likedbygaslyy @rorabelle15 @bwormie @treatallwithkindness @fandomnerd11 @adhxmoony @sakuramxchii @insunia @mindflay3r @talking-raw @colmathgames2 @assholeinatrenchcoat @saachiep81 @venusacrossthestars @v1naco @anthonylockwoodandco111 @whalebursoot-main @ellen3101 @k-pevensie28 @ninifee1802 @not-nyasa @pleasecallmeunhinged @andruuu28 @aceofwordsandarrows @dreamsarebig @secretunnels @ginsengi @yayahnaise @f1petra @lovecarsgoingvroom @lalloronaisreal @fangirl125reader @tpwkmera @booksandflowrs @elizanav @lightsoutletsgo @meko-mt @customsbyjcg-blog @bingussthirdtoe @sideboobrry11
(crossed out means i was unable to tag!)
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smoooothoperator · 2 days
Text
untouchable
epilogue: Happy Ever After
Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)
same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers
a/n: So this is officially the end! I wanted to make a different epilogue of what I used to make! In this epilogue you'll watch what Lando and Violet did for the next few years. And of course, I had to make little cameos of ACOTAR.
If someone wants to ask me to make an extra chapter abot their story, I'm very happy to make it!
Official Playlist
Masterlist
previous chapter
If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!
Every way of feedback is very welcomed
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26 of December of 2024
violetsinclair
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liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 21.683 others
violetsinclair A whole year with this curly haired man. I love you Lan, love of my life🧡
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landonorris For more mornings next to you🧡
maxfewtrell You guys deserve everything good in this world, no one suffered as you two and none of you gave up
violetsinclair Maaaaaaxx🥹🥹😭😭
maxfewtrell You are not crying, right?
landonorris yes she is
carlossainz55 congratulations you guys❤️
violetsinclair Eh! No red hearts in my feed! Only orange!
landonorris I love you🥹🧡
landonorris
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tagged: violentsinclair
landonorris Never give up our dreams, they always come true. I love you with my whole being 🧡
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violetsinclair Thank you for not giving up on me, never. You are everything I ever wanted and I'll never stop loving you 🧡
landonorris I love you so much😍
mclaren Our favorite pair of brits 🥹🧡
February of 2025
violetsinclair
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violetsinclair Story of the day I became a dog mom🐾🧡:
Today Lando came to pick me up from work with a suspicious grin of his face. He said something about going out for the day, to spend the afternoon somewhere away from the city. And of course I believed it! He sounded very convincing!
We had lunch on a very nice place next to a river, but I noticed him a little nervous while looking at his watch. We collected everything and went back to bed, thinking we were going back home.
Turns out he had other plans! We went to a land where the owner has a lot of puppies! And then I found this beautiful black little guy and I immediately fell in love with him. And of course, Lando had everything planned and already came with things for the puppy.
Everyone, meet Rhysand Norris (yeah, it's on purpose. And I wasn't the one that chose the name🤭)
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maxfewtrell I still can't believe you named my godson after a fictional character...
violetsinclair I beg you pardon? It was about time that I had a pet named after him
maxfewtrell what about the options I gave you?
landonorris Rhysand is Rhysand, no more discussion
maxfewtrell Rude. But I'll still name him Reese
violetsinclair Fair enough for me
sarahjmaas His name definitely fit him!
violetsinclair omg hi I love you. Now I can die in peace
landonorris Hi sarahjmaas you want to meet him? We're fans :)
sarahjmaas Sure!
landonorris added a story
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mclaren
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mclaren look who came! Rhys is in the paddock! The high lord is the the house!🤭👀🧡
tagged: violentsinclair, landonorris
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f1 It was nice having this little one around! He stole everyone's heart
roscoelovescoco It's always nice having a doggie friend around! 🐶🐶
violetsinclair Admin is now in love with Rhys🥰 I'm a proud mom
mclaren the high lord deserves every fan he has :)
landonorris
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landonorris Today the love of my life got her degree of History of Art! I can't be prouder of her 😍😍
tagged: violetsinclair
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violetsinclair 🥹😚🥰
martingarrix photo creds mate...
landonorris I paid you dinner
martingarrix so?
violetsinclair Habemus pacem kids... but you made amazing pics! I love them🥰
martingarrix thanks Vi, at least you are more decent than him
violetsinclair Of course! Now I have a doctorate
landonorris stop bullying me
July of 2025
landonorris
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landonorris And of course, Rhysand is no one without his mate. Welcome home, Feyre🧡
tagged: violetsinclair
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sarahjmaas Omg I can't believe it! You really found Rhys a Feyre!🥹🥹
violetsinclair (I still can't believe I befriended you) Yeah! She's the cutest! You should come and meet her
sarahjmaas oh I'll definitely will
mclaren Still impressive how we have a crossover of ACOTAR and F1...
landonorris You're welcome 😉
December of 2025
violetsinclair
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violetsinclair P3 in the Drivers Championship for my man! Couldn't be prouder of you🧡
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maxvertappen1 White looks good and you, huh? Right, Lando?👀
landonorris 🤔🤔🤔
landonorris Don't know what you are talking about
fia Where did you leave the high lord and lady? We wanted to see them
violetsinclair They stayed at home🥹 but next year they won't miss it
October of 2026
violetsinclair
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violetsinclair Life lately🐾🧡🎶🎨
pietra.pilao That was the best day of my life🥹
violentsinclair agree
landonorris agree
taylorswift agree
violetsinclair omfg hi 😭
December of 2026
landonorris, violentsinclair
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landonorris Right where everything started, where I confessed you my feelings, where I had you in my arms for the first time and then where you said yes to a lifetime with me. I can't wait to continue this journey with you🧡
And thank you maxfewtrell and pietra.pilao for keeping the secret and not being suspicious, making sure I don't lose the ring after months of having it and for taking the pictures for us🧡
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mclaren I'm not crying🥹 congratulations!!!
carlossainz55 You are maturing, I can't be prouder of you. Congratulations to both of you, can't wait to see you and hug you!
maxfewtrell It was such a pleasure taking pet of am important moment of your life, as always, mate. And I won't stop saying it, you two deserve everything good
violetsinclair For how long did you know about this?
pietra.pilao You would get surprised...
March of 2027
violetsinclair
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violetsinclair God news and bad news!
The good news: I'll be some months working here, in Egypt! I had the pleasure of receiving a call from the museum so I can experience how they work in the ruins and and translate some ancient papyrus.
The bad news: Lando and I will have to be some months apart and I can't attent to his races like I used to do. But this won't stop me for supporting him or loving him every day more.
This is just another chapter of our story, not the end.
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landonorris I can't be prouder of you, love. You always fight for your dreams and I'm so happy for you that you can finally achieve them. I can't wait to have you in my arm again. Rhys, Feyre and I love you so much.
violetsinclair I already miss you😭
maxfewtrell Super proud of you! Now I can say that my best friend works in Egypt and will appear in a documentary soon
violetsinclair You and Pi are welcomed in my house anytime you want to see some nice old people :)
mclaren Admin is going to miss you... But I'm proud of you!
violetsinclair Admiiiin🥹
April of 2027
landonorris added a new story
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maxfewtrell You couldn't be away for more months, can't you?
landonorris Stay away from Pi for some weeks and then answer me again
maxfewtrell God, are you moody?
landonorris I experienced the No Nut November in March. I don't recommend it at all
maxfewtrell I didn't need the details...
landonorris Sorry😩
violetsinclair
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liked by netflix, landonorris, pietra.pilao and 73.269 others
violetsinclair I'm super super super happy to announce that the "Cleopatra" series are finally out! Netflix and I worked alongside to make this amazing series about the absolute queen of Egypt. I hope everyone likes it!
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netflix We were so happy to have you on set and work with you!
landonorris Who else knows a couple that both of them worked with Netflix? I'm so proud of my girl!
August of 2027
landonorris, violetsinclair
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violetsinclair I can't believe that this is my last day as your girlfriend and tomorrow I'll be able to call you my husband for the rest of our lives.
And this morning I remembered my best friend Eloise while I was getting my things ready for the big day, crying a little and then smiling at her pictures. I miss you, Eli. I wish you could be with us, celebrating my wedding and standing next to me. I miss you, I never stop thinking about you.
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landonorris Eloise is watching us, babe. I'm sure she's proud of who you became
maxfewtrell She's proud for sure, we miss her
mclaren Can't wait to be there tomorrow, we are proud of you two
carlossainz55 The best pair I ever met, can't wait to watch you two linking your lives together
violetnorris, landonorris
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liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, carlossainz55 and 967.471 others
landonorris We are still over the moon about yesterday. It was so beautiful watching everyone, sharing our most special day with all of you. I still can't believe this morning I woke up next to my wife.
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carlossainz55 You two made a beautiful wedding, I will never forget how you two looked at each other. Felicidades, cabrón
georgerussel63 Can't believe you are the same small boy that debuted on F1 next to me and Alex. Now look at you, mate.
oscarpiastri I still remember the day you introduced Violet to me. You told me that you were going to marry her one day
landonorris What's going on with you guys georgerussel63 and oscarpiastri? You want to make me cry or what? Yesterday wasn't enough?🥹
December of 2027
violetnorris
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violetnorris Maldivas🥰🧡
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landonorris 😚
June of 2028
violetnorris
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violetnorris The last few months some of you were sending me Dm's and even asking Lando why I stopped going to the races, if I was sent to Egypt again for work. Well, I guess now our little secret is out! Baby Norris coming in October👶🏻🧡
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oscarpiastri Now it makes sense why I saw the other day Lando asking to the person in charge of the merch to give him an onesie of McLaren... Congrats you two!
landonorris I thought no one saw me🥹
oscarpiastri I guess you were wrong
quadrant Okay, baby collection in progress.....
carlossainz55 I know I'll be the favorite uncle
oscarpiastri Excuse me?
danielricciardo Excuse me??
alex_albon You're joking, right?
georgerussel63 I bed you pardon?
violetnorris Okay guys, no fighting...
October of 2028
landonorris
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landonorris 17 of October of 2028. Baby Eloise Claire Norris decided to come some days earlier. Mommy and baby are okay🧡
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charles_leclerc 17 is always a good number❤️ Can't wait to meet her
carlossainz55 So happy for you, man. She looks like you
oscarpiastri On my way to meet her!
mclaren on our way* to meet her!
maxfewtrell My goddaughter is so beautiful 🥹😍
pietra.pilao Our* goddaughter 🥹😍
taglist
@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean @leptitlu @aphroditeisamilf @brekkers-whore @copper-boom @sideboobrry11 @alltoomaples @f1madison @elijahslover @silkenthusiasts @chonkybonky @summerslike11 @randomgirlnumber-13 @is-just-a @whentheautumnleavesfall @malynn @mycenterfold @barackosteaa @izzy-marvel @ssprayberrythings @ophcelia @traveling-inspiration
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forzalando · 3 months
Text
Orange Theory
Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)
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summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!
You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.
Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.
“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.
“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”
“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.
“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”
You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.
“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”
“I just came to give you this.”
Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.
“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.
“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”
“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”
“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.
“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.
Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.
“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”
Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.
“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.
Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.
He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”
You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.
“He peels your oranges for you?”
You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”
“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”
“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”
Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.
“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”
“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”
As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.
“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.
As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”
“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”
“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”
“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”
A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.
“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”
“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”
“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”
You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”
Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”
“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.
“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”
“What else?”
“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”
Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.
“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.
“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.
“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”
Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”
“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”
“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”
“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”
Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.
Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.
Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.
You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.
When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.
You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.
But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.
They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.
You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.
“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”
The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.
“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”
“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”
“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”
“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.
“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”
You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.
“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”
“Would you kiss me?”
“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”
This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.
“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”
“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.
“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.
You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.
He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.
He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.
His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.
You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.
After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.
Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
4K notes · View notes
arieslost · 13 days
Text
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.
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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.
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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
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thatsdemko · 1 month
Text
without me? - l.norris
masterlist | pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
summary: the silence he enters to is odd… but was there ever really any silence?
warnings: smut + not intended for minors + no plot?
a/n: reminder this is 18+ content!!! I need some serious motivation to write smut so if anyone has any….
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there’s a stillness to the room that he just can’t describe. like everything in his apartment looks so picturesque, the sun setting, a dimly lit lamp in the corner. the eery sound of quietness are odd against his ears.
the sounds of the rubber against the pavement, the whirling of drills and tools, the vibration of the car still keep his body in working mode. the endorphins swell his brain with happiness and serenity as he walks from the living room towards the bedroom.
that’s when he finally begins to hear noise.
at first it’s just the faint sound of the mattress squeaking, then, he as steps closer, he can begin to hear the headboard rattling against the wall. whatever he was feeling in his brain shot straight down to his cock and spread an aching in him.
he couldn’t stand behind this door any longer. finally pressing his palm into the knob, he pushes the door gently. his eyes are greeted with the best sight; you. legs apart, vibrator in hand, your hair sprawled across the pillow case, and the oh so sweet sounds of your whimpers are flooding his eardrums.
he can’t help it, the smile that spreads is cocky. you look pathetic and helpless, like something was clearly holding you back, and god he couldn’t wait to put you out of your misery.
you didn’t head the door open, and you certainly didn’t hear the drop of his bags, but you did feel his hand grasp yours and toss the vibrator to the side.
“lando,” you whimper softly. your eyes flutter open for a brief second, you see he’s removing his belt from his waist, and in his own eyes he has some sort of thirst and desire he can’t resist.
you don’t blame him, you’d been waiting for him. you spent all afternoon cleaning to erase your mind from the nasty thoughts you had about your boyfriend. you could still see the ass and hand prints against the shower glass, you could still recall how he fucked you until both of you came collapsing onto the floor.
every part of this house was haunted with some sort sexual memory, and you had attempted to clean it all awaiting to start new ones, but that wasn’t enough. after all that, you still felt unfulfilled. so enter the vibrator, and now, finally, there was lando.
lando’s hips grind against yours, his cock fitting nicely inside you, warmth radiates off of him. your back arches in an automatic response, your body molding up into his, he pushes you down. it’s not stern, but it wasn’t a gentle gesture either, it was still hot coming from him. possessiveness was something lando never lacked.
his thrusts become harder, nonsensical words fall from his lips that range from “I missed you” to “fucking wet” and none of them strung a proper sentence. you just allowed him to take you to the place you couldn’t quite get to with a mechanical toy, and you thank him with peppering kisses to his neck that you know you’ll get shit for tomorrow.
“never fucking do that without me.” he grunts rolling off your body to lay beside you. he takes a moment to catch his breath before sitting back up, “the place is too clean.” he states.
nodding your head you turn in his direction, “do you want to mess it up again?”
“fuck yes.”
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charizznorizz · 2 months
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'why come on we're only starting the season'
My man is stronger than me cause i would bawled right there 😭😭
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racinggirl · 2 months
Text
that's my girl
Lando Norris fic - requested
My inbox for requests
a/n: it took me a bit longer as I have been quite busy this last week, but it's hereeee! I hope you like it, I have to say I love badass Y/N a lot, so thank you for the request! It's a bit shorter, but we need some variation in life, don't we? Let me know your thoughts! It's not proofread, so be aware for any minor mistakes, if there are some. Lots of loveeee. Don't forget to send in requests! I love all the requests I've gotten so far 🫶🏼
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‘’What kind of snacks do you want?’’ You asked your boyfriend as you were preparing some somewhat healthy snacks before he would go live on Twitch. You were filling up a bowl with Maltesers because, let’s be honest, who doesn’t like those? You then decided to grab a knife and cut the cheese and cucumber to make the tray snacks somewhat healthier.
‘’Can you lay on the tray?’’ Lando wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, causing you to tilt your head when he planted soft kisses on your neck. ‘’You already had that snack not too long ago, mister Norris.’’ You teased, keeping your eyes closed as you felt his hands making its way under your shirt, close to your bra.
‘’Nah, ah.’’ You put down the knife and took both his hands in yours, moving them down and placing them on your hips before reaching back for the knife. Your action caused him to groan, and you simply smirked as you felt how much he needed you, because let’s be honest here, it was impossible to not feel him through his jeans.
‘’Grapes, mango?’’ You continued, focussing back on the tray of deliciousness in front of you. ‘’Chocolate covered strawberries.’’ He replied, walking to the fridge. ‘’Yeah, ehm, about those…’’ You bite your lip as you looked over at the – way too perfect – McLaren driver, who happened to be your boyfriend.
‘’No, you ate them?’’ He asked, turning 45 degrees to look at you with puppy eyes. ‘’Oh stop it! You ate my piece of cake the other day!’’ You laughed, feeling his hands on your body as he tickled you. ‘’Lando! Stop!’’ You managed to breathe out in between your laughter.
‘’You ate my strawberries!’’ He exclaimed; his arms wrapped tightly around you as you tried to somehow escape his grasp. But he was strong, of course he was, he was a Formula One driver.
Talking about his job, you were proud of him. The two of you had been dating for a few years now, the world only finding out in your 3rd year of dating each other. You had no idea how because you never purposely tried to be secret about it. You never went out in public, never really posted about one another on your socials, either. You only really started doing that when people noticed your relationship.
You were almost done with your degree now, though. Meaning you had more time to come to some of his races. You loved going there, not only to support your boyfriend, but also to learn about all the behind the scenes of the sport. It was something that fascinated you ever since you started dating Lando.
However, you tried to stay out of the camera’s as much as you could. You never held hands when you walked through the paddock with him; if you walked through the paddock with him. Most of the time you arrived after he did because you either had to finish some online work in the hotel room, or because you wanted to stay out of the spotlight.
You never really enjoyed being in front of the camera’s, hence why you were so invested in all the behind-the-scenes stuff. It wasn’t because you weren’t confident enough, not at all, because you were, and that’s something Lando always admired about you, especially when you started to receive hate. You just never thought being in front of the camera suited you, those cameras around you, people asking questions, it just annoyed you, and you decided you didn’t want to take a part of it.
It didn’t mean you never supported him, though. You were always there for him, and he knew. He never complained, he never told you you weren’t supportive, no. He loved how your relationship was different than the ones from all the other WAGS, he felt like he wasn’t sharing you with the entire world, that you were just his, and that’s exactly how you felt, too.
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‘’Good evening chat! Long-time no see, ey?’’ You heard Lando’s smile through the words he just spoke, waving at the camera as he leaned back in his chair. He glanced over at you, his eyes gliding over you before quickly shooting you a wink. You laughed and rolled your eyes at his action, simply knowing the chat would comment on his wink.
‘’I’m good, enjoying the off season as much as I can.’’ He smirked. ‘’Aren’t we, babe?’’ He asked and you got up, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. ‘’I for sure am.’’ You winked before walking to the kitchen to get your snacks.
You always were seated outside of the camera’s view. As much as you loved staying out of the cameras at the track, you did the same whenever he streamed. You never did it purposely, though. You never hid away from the cameras; you simply never purposely were in front of them.
‘’Grabbing snacks!’’ You yelled from the kitchen when you heard Lando read the comments. ‘What’s Y/N doing?’ and ‘Where’s your girlfriend going?’
‘’She’s getting snacks, chat. You won’t believe it, but we actually prepared those for tonight.’’ He smirked, sipping his water as he read through the comments. ‘’We?’’ You asked, raising an eyebrow with a smile. ‘’Right, sorry chat, my lovely girlfriend Y/N prepared the snacks.’’ He said, watching you placing the tray of delicious food in front of him.
‘’I’m just missing one snack on here, but sadly there’s not enough room on the tray for that.’’
‘OMG HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT’
‘HAHAHAHA Lando naughty naughty boy’
‘DUUUUUUDE LANDO WHAT LMAO’
You sat down next to him, your legs over his as you grabbed a Malteser from the tray. ‘’You’re very original with your jokes tonight, Norris.’’ You smirked, reaching for your phone before you opened TikTok, keeping yourself entertained when Lando continued his stream.
He loved this about you, he loved the fact that even though he was live, streaming and being in front of cameras, you never backed down. You never changed when the cameras were there, you always stayed yourself. That was probably the thing he admired most about you, and things he definitely learned from you.
As the hours went by, the tray of food was nearly empty. You got up a few times to go to the bathroom, get something to drink, get some more snacks and so on. Lando got up to go to the bathroom for the second time this evening, leaving you alone with chat.
You kissed his lips before he left the room, you simply deciding to pop up in front of the camera this time. You read some messages, smiling as they told you you looked beautiful. ‘’Aw, thanks guys, or girls, that’s sweet.’’ You replied, leaning your chin on your hand as you continued reading a few more comments.
The second you heard him coming back in the room, you commented on a question in the chat, Lando sitting next to you with a smile on his face. He loved it when you interacted with his fans, which you sometimes did. It’s not like you were completely offline when it came to the fame he carried with him, you just never really bothered to become an influencer like some others did.
‘’Nah, ah, Norris, they are asking me questions now.’’ You teased, holding your hand up when he started to talk again.
‘HAHA Y/N’s such a vibe’
‘Yeah Lando, we’re chatting with your girl now!’
He simply chuckled, pecking your lips when you looked at him and he then enjoyed the scenery he saw in front of him.
After a while, you got up from your chair, going to the kitchen to refill your glass of water for the fourth time that evening, and made your way back to the room when you heard your boyfriend reading some comments out aloud.
‘Y/N doesn’t love him, she never holds his hand in the paddock, what a supportive WAG.’
You furrowed your eyebrows at that comment, and just as Lando was about to say something to defend you, you put your glass of water on the table in front of you.
‘’Last time I checked, my job title wasn’t ‘WAG’. I’m an engineer, not a runway model.’’
Lando looked at you, amazed, proud, and smiling like an idiot. ‘’You heard her, chat.’’ He smirked. ‘’That’s my girl.’’ He whispered happily.
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The end of the stream was nearing, and you got up to head to bed. ‘’Goodnight, babe, I’ll see you in a bit.’’ You whispered before placing a kiss on his lips, smiling against them as he returned the favour. You glanced over at chat one last time, feeling Lando’s hand on the back of your upper leg.
‘’Next time I’ll open the ‘WAGs Handbook’ to catch up on some of my duties.’’ You smirked at the chat. ‘’Goodnight chat, sleep tight.’’ You blew them a kiss before walking out of the room, heading straight to bed.
Not long after you positioned yourself in the king-size bed Lando had in his bedroom, you heard the door opening; your boyfriend making his way to you. ‘’You’re amazing, please never change.’’ He whispered and pressed his lips on yours, firmly.
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Later that season
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1K notes · View notes
ladcedes · 4 months
Text
two wheels
george russell x biker!reader, social media!au
summary george's new girlfriend seems way too cool for him and the fans just cannot believe it
notes bit of a longer one here (what is a plot) but i just wanted to do something fun since it's the winter break. and i love poking a bit of fun at my favs
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yourusername
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tagged: yourbestfriend and 6 others
Liked by lilymhe, georgerusselll63, and 29,412 others
yourusername that's my party people! 🍾
10 December 2023
view 116 comments
yourbestfriend for the record, everything that happened after 9pm is completely yn's fault
⤷ yourusername sooo r u still up for next week?
⤷ yourbestfriend @/yourusername 100%
⤷ yourfriend1 yn is the reason why you shouldn't drink and drive 😭
nadissodone HOLDDDDD IT 🚨🚨 george liked this post
⤷ 44formula but he wasn't tagged soo??
⤷ goatmilton what is a polar bear doing in arlington texas 💀💀💀
champagneshower no way 4th slide is george tho
liked by yourusername
⤷ jadedtrack it does kinda look like him tbf
4strobaby yn ma'am could you please confirm whether or not you have a boyfriend
liked by yourusername
⤷ 4strobaby GUYS SHE LIKED THE COMMENT THIS MIGHT MEAN SOMETHING
⤷ unevilincorporated OMG WAIT @/yourusername does that boyfriend happen to be f1 driver george russell???
liked by yourusername and georgerussell63
⤷ unevilincorporated BOTH HER AND GEORGE LIKED THAT ONE???? IT DEFINITELY MEANS SOMETHING
⤷ maroon.jpg @unevilincorporated yall are crazy why are we playing ouija board with comment likes 😭😭
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georgerussell63
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Liked by pierregasly, yourusername, and 127,384 others
georgerussell63 Pretty good start to winter break ❄️
p.s. thanks danielricciardo for the wine
18 December 2023
view 316 comments
danielricciardo Hope you guys enjoyed the wine!
⤷ yourusername the wine was a banger, will 100% be getting more
⤷ tracklimited @/yourusername oh yeah she basically just confirmed that they're together 💀
oceanblvd im almost positive that's yn's helmet theyre really not trying to hide it anymore
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yourusername • 3hrs ago | georgerussell63 • 2hrs ago / 20 December 2023
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you replied to georgerussell63's story:
i'm taking u out on another one tmr and u can't say no babe
georgerussell63:
what if i do say no?
you:
u can't. i'll kidnap u and throw u on my bike
georgerussell63:
i could run away
and i think mercedes will have something to say about that
you:
don't worry, i won't keep you for too long
besides, the team loves me
they'll let me off the hook
georgerussell63:
i don't like how i can't argue with that
yourusername
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tagged: georgerussell63 and 7 others
Liked by francisca.cgomes and 211,220 others
yourusername i should be playing in the winter snow, but imma be under the mistletoe (with youuu)
25 December 2023
view 213 comments
lilymhe nobody tell her it wasn’t snowing in london last night
⤷ yourusername i wouldn’t have known anyway tbh
⤷ pierregasly @/yourusername too busy?
⤷ georgerussell63 @/pierregasly we can’t disclose that i’m afraid.. the nda and all that 😂😂
⤷ brockenclocks @/pierregasly why is pierre always at the scene of the crime 😭😭
⤷ certifiedlvrgrrl @/georgerussell63 george wtf do u mean by the nda
mercedesamgf1 Merry Christmas from the team!
liked by yourusername
yourusername • 2hrs ago / 28 December 2023
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yourusername
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tagged: georgerussell63 and 4 others
Liked by lissiemackintosh, georgerussell63, and 52,220 others
yourusername starting the year off in the beautiful south of france 💋
📸 1&2: georgerussell63
4 January 2024
view 224 comments
georgerussell63 i think i should get credits for the 4th pic too since it was taken on my phone
⤷ yourusername georgie please just let it go 😭
⤷ georgerussell63 @ yourusername you took 50 pictures before letting me leave the bathroom and i was only in half of them.
⤷ yourusername @ georgerussell63 they're for ur personal collection 😘
⤷ moonriver @ yourusername PERSONAL COLLECTION????
⤷ sativaur @ yourusername "personal collection" yn im going insane
fonedance yn you're so fine please break up with ur bf i can treat you better than he ever will
⤷ cuntlonso realest thing i've read all day 😭😭😭
georgerussell63
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Liked by pierregasly, logansargeant, and 216,993 others
georgerussell63 A refreshing little getaway to start the year
📸 2: yourusername
4 January 2024
view 431 comments
jadedfc the way his arm wraps around her in their pics im sosoo sick
⤷ rollemodel he lowkey shut down all the haters with it too
⤷ sunburnns that should be me pls
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yourusername
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tagged: georgerussell63
Liked by georgerussell63, lilymhe and 39.238 others
yourusername trying out a couple extra wheels...
16 January 2024
view 146 comments
yourbestfriend coolest girl itw ⚡️
lilymhe so the final verdict on 2 vs 4 wheels is...?
⤷ georgerussell63 4 wins
⤷ yourusername @/georgerussell63 hell no it's obviously 2 🙄
⤷ georgerussell63 @/yourusername think that's because you lost by an entire lap?
⤷ yourusername @/georgerussell63 as if you didn't almost fall off the bike!! u're also biased
⤷ georgerussell63 @/yourusername why don't we just agree to disagree?
⤷ yourusername @/georgerussell63 you just don't wanna admit i'm right
⤷ motogp @/georgerussell63 @/yourusername🍿🍿🍿
⤷ lilymhe @/motogp pass me some, too
⤷ alex_albon @/motogp me 3
gr63stan their arguing is so adorable 😭😭
mercrarri yep i still think she's way too cool for him
⤷ landoshelmet ikr she's such a badass and he's... there
⤷ pastrydish literal she's everything and he's just ken
⤷ 4lbons she already said leave the man alone damn 😭😭
maiadrsh george russell has to be the luckiest man alive
⤷ yourusername more like sexiest man alive
⤷ alex_albon @/yourusername i did NOT need to see you say that today 🤢
⤷ georgerussell63 @alex_albon you'd better believe it 😎
⤷ alex_albon @/georgerussell63 not today, not for a single one of the past 15 years we've known each other, and not ever
⤷ yourusername @alex_albon sincerely, even i doubt that second part
⤷ silverstoned what is yn insinuating in these comments 🤨
an: i feel like every time i post a new smau i level up and introduce new formatting. also comment tags r weird bcs i wna avoid tagging real users and it irks me
bonus:
yourusername • 12hrs ago
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seen by georgerussell63, francisca.cgomes, and 153,329 others
georgerussell63 replied to your story | 16:44
"but you love me more"
"right?"
you | 16:45
"hmmmm i gotta think about it"
"i'll tell you tomorrow?"
georgerussell63 | 16:46
"..."
"i can't believe i might lose to a bike 😐"
you | 16:46
"jokes 😭"
"would you pick your car over me, though?"
georgerussell63 | 16:48
"no comment"
you | 16:49
"george."
georgerussell63 | 16:51
"i love you"
you | 16:52
"i'm coming over"
1K notes · View notes
thisismeracing · 5 months
Text
Medusa | LN4
― Pairing: Lando Norris x reader (she/her) ― Warnings: sexual innuendos. Minors DNI!!! ― Summary: The one where Lando's burner account gets exposed, and the internet goes crazy with how funny (or dirty) he could be. ― A/n: None of the pictures used are mine, they are all from Pinterest and other apps, but the work is, and I do not allow it to be published on a different platform. I would appreciate it if those things could be taken into consideration 💛
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✷ my masterlist | my taglist | patreon guide ✷ you can support my writing by reblogging, leaving a comment(don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece), or buying me a coffee
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― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! Most of the jokes were taken from random screenshots on Pinterest. I wanna add a special shout-out to Dee (@struggling-with-delia) for getting to me with this idea and hipying me up to write it in less than four hours. 🤍 make sure to let me know your thoughts by reblogging and leaving me an ask! I'm considering making this some kind of series or whatever you call it, but with other drivers...hihi lets see
taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @mishaandthebrits @fdl305 @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @saintslewis @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @v1naco @dearxcherry @elliegrey2803 @peachiicherries @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar @fastcarsandshit @goldenalbon @balekanemohafe @jamie2305 @nzygftoji @Reecespiece1 @bbreezybitch @graciewrote
✷ check here my main masterlist | patreon guide my taglist  if you wanna be tagged on my pieces
©thisismeracing ― Do not copy, steal, or translate my work. Do not repost on a different media platform.
3K notes · View notes
leclerced · 5 months
Text
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one more | op81
summary: oscar can’t get enough of his girlfriend after nearly two months apart.
author’s note: this is depraved. i did not mean to write this, it’s 4-5k and it was supposed to be a short blurb about oscar eating pussy and this is where it ended up. also tysm for 100 followers ily
warnings: hint of breeding kink, bit of forced orgasm st the end bc oscar is… ravenous. 18+ minors do not interact
Oscar could tell his girlfriend was unaware of how loud her begging and moaning had grown as he pushed her over the edge for a second time. He couldn’t care less how loud she got as she rocked her hips into his face and pulled his hair as she moaned his name and simultaneously begged him to keep going and whined that she was too sensitive. Her pleas as she came on his face were motivation for him to continue and he got more into it, spelling his name into her clit as he moved one hand from around her thigh to between them so he could slide two fingers into her slick cunt. The slick sound of his fingers curling in and out of her and her moans mixed together and made his cock leak in his boxers as he nibbled on her clit and she sharply tugged his hair in response.
Oscar’s eyes fluttered open as pulled his mouth away suddenly and gasped for air, if he kept going he thought he might cum like that. She blearily blinked up at him while he panted above her with that crazed look in his eyes, lips red and puffy as he sucked her wetness off his lower lip. Her chest was rapidly rising and falling as she moaned from his fingers fucking her. His eyes followed the trail of hickeys from her thigh, to her hip, all the way up her stomach, chest, and neck, until they met her kissed and bitten raw lips. He kissed his way up the bruises he’d left, blushing at how depraved he had been to do that. He couldn’t blame himself, he hadn’t seen her in weeks, almost two months, and she wore his favorite dress. It was technically a new dress, but the moment he saw her in it he decided it was his new favorite. He liked it even more when after making out against the room door he walked her backwards to the full length hotel mirror before he spun her around so he could unzip the back, watching in the mirror as it slid down her body and she was left in nothing but her heels.
He hadn’t known about the lack of underwear, if he had… jesus christ he would have faked an illness to get away and fuck her. So really, you couldn’t blame him for leaving a trail of bruises down her entire body while she begged for him to touch her.
She thought he was going to kiss her as he stared at her lips and licked his own, whimpering as his fingers pulled out of her and he held them up and scissored them in front of her face, strings of her slick spreading between them. He pressed them back together as he tapped her bottom lip and her lips parted. Oscar immediately pressed his fingers into her mouth, her tongue pressing between his digits and he groaned, “Fuck, why haven’t I done this before?” She whined around his fingers as he pressed them back on her tongue, to the back of her throat and she started to gag before she relaxed her throat. “Good girl, fuck, you’re so good for me.” His voice was hushed and breathy, and she eagerly sucked on his fingers as her eyes fluttered shut at the praise. He began fucking his fingers in and out of her mouth as he pushed his boxers down his thighs and stroked himself.
Oscar rubbed the head of his cock through her folds, collecting the wetness before he stroked it over himself a few times and lined up with her entrance. He could feel her cunt fluttering around him before he had even pushed in, and he teased her by pressing just the head in and swirling it around a few times before pulling out and repeating. His free hand slid from her hip to her lower stomach, pressing her hips down into the bed as she tried pressing herself onto his cock.
Oscar couldn’t help but admit he loved having her at his mercy like this as he pulled her apart piece by piece. He knew he was bigger than her, she was only five inches shorter than him, but he had a much smaller frame, one that made it so easy to hold her down or manhandle her to get her how he wanted her. His hand looked giant on her flat stomach, fingers stretched out spanning her smooth skin. All he needed was one single hand to hold her steady underneath him, or flip her over, pull her on top of him. And she’d let him do whatever, soft and pliable in his hands as she trusts him to do whatever he’s planning, even when his mind is running wild like now. He finally sinks into her with no warning and her mouth falls open in a moan around his fingers before she closes it again and bites softly at the tips of his fingers. He’d stopped fucking her mouth with his fingers, just rested them on her tongue and he blushed as he pulled them out and pressed his hand into the bed next to her head as he dipped down and kissed her.
Oscar’s mouth tasted like her and she whimpered into the kiss as he slowly rocked his hips into hers. The kiss was soft and languid as he moved his hand from her stomach to cup her cheek. She puffed air from her nose and it tickled his cheek, making hin giggle into the kiss. She smiled and nudged her nose against his as she broke the kiss, “This is nice, but I want.. more.” His eyebrows quirked but he didn’t change his pace. She sighed and he felt her hot breath hit her lips, “Oz, please, I can see that look in your eyes, fuck me like you want, however you want, just fuck me please.” He pulled out of her and his hands were on her hips and he flipped her onto her stomach before she could complain about it.
He pressed a pillow under her hips and his hands found her thighs and pulled them apart. She folded her arms behind her head and pressed her cheek into her arm as she looked back at him. Oscar’s hands slid up her thighs to her ass before rubbing over her cheeks and grasping at the flesh of her ass. She was so wet that it was dripping down her ass crack and to the mattress when she was on her back, a wet spot forming where she had been as he made her cum with his mouth. Now, the sight of her puffy wet cunt and asshole were sending his mind reeling as he thought about how she begged him to fuck her however he wanted.
She should have expected it when he flipped her over, and just now when she saw his hand pull back, but she was still shocked when his palm made contact with her ass cheek and sent a rush of pain and pleasure through her. She bit into her arm to muffle her startled moan as he repeated the action on the other side in quick succession. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, anxiously waiting for another spank as he moved between her legs again and pressed his cock against her clit teasingly.
His voice was low as he suddenly asked, “You said anything?” She hummed and nodded so he continued, “Can I put my finger in your ass?”
She blinked at him, shocked by his question, but wasn’t completely opposed. It took her a moment to collect herself and nod as she mumbled, “I’ve never done that before.”
He suddenly looked at her and grinned, “Me neither. I’m going to fuck you first, get you relaxed, then do it while I’m fucking you okay? I don’t have lube so I’m gonna use spit.” Her stomach clenched and she nodded a bit too eagerly and pressed her face into her arms as she blushed at his words. He pressed the head of his cock into her entrance as he asked, “Do you want a warning?” She shook her head in her arms and he grinned as he bottomed out and her back arched to press him deeper inside of her.
He began fucking her quickly, hands on her ass to hold her in place as he pulled out completely then bottomed out, the head of his cock brushing that sweet spot inside of her that made her whine his name. She was already sensitive from two orgasms, and despite her face being buried in her arms, he could hear her moans and whimpers clear as day. She was putty in his hands as he fucked her, and he couldn’t control the urge to lean down to bite her shoulder as she clenched around him as she pressed her ass back into him. Oscar kissed the bite mark he left on her shoulder and pulled back, his right hand left its place on her lip and he sucked his pointer finger into his mouth, wetting it with spit. He kept it there for a minute as he fucked her, not wanting her to be expecting it. He waits until he feels her cunt fluttering around him, on the verge of her orgasm, before he spits onto her asshole and presses his finger against it.
He teasingly rubbed her second hole, pressing the tip of his finger in. When her body doesn’t fight back, he spits on where his finger is sinking into her and presses further. Oscar could see and feel the shudder that ran through her as his finger bottomed out in her ass, her back arched beautifully and she came around his cock with no warning for either of them. It hit her like a tsunami, she didn’t realize how close she was until he’d pressed his finger inside her suddenly and she felt so much more full, could feel the stretch of his finger in her and she didn’t remember it being so long and thick when he’d fuck her pussy with it. It made her mind go blank, her body shaking as she gasped and moaned while pressing her hips back for more. He began fucking his finger in and out of her ass in sync with his cock and his other hand shifted between her thighs where they met to rub her clit with two fingers. The contact hurt at first, his fingers rough as they rubbed at her sensitive bud before easing up on her and swirling soft patterns around her.
She began gasping and whining into her arms after her third orgasm, blabbering nonsense about how good he felt inside of her, how she had missed him. She was talking so much Oscar had mostly tuned it out, eyes locked on where he was fucking her and he couldn’t think about anything else but how close he was. “Oz, please, ‘m so close.. want to feel it.” His gaze suddenly snapped up to her and saw she still had her face buried in the sheets.
“Yeah? Cum with me then, baby, give me one more and I’ll give you what you want.” She whined at his words and came a moment later as she moaned his name. The feeling of her clenching around him as she begged him to fill her up sent him over the edge, and his hips froze as he bottomed out and spilled his load in her. He pulled his finger from her ass and leaned down to bite her shoulder again teasingly. He groaned when she pressed herself back against him with a whimper. "You're fucking insatiable, you know? You want me to keep going, fuck my cum in you?" She whimpered again and nodded, and he peeled his body away from hers. His cock left her and he flipped her back over, her arms that had been supporting her head, fell above her head as she arched her hips into bed in disappointment as he stared at her dripping pussy, his cum leaking out of her. Just before she complained, he lined his cock back up with her entrance, collecting his cum that had dribbled out and pressed inside again, her pussy clenched around him and his cock twitch with over sensitivity. A shiver ran up his spine as he bottomed out and he mumbled, “Wanted to see you, baby. Open your eyes for me." Her eyes fluttered open and she blinked at him prettily as she lifted her arms to reach for him. He leaned down so she could wrap her hands around his neck and pull him down, fingers tangling in her hair as he began rocking his hips against hers. He was always unreadable with the stupid blank face, but now even more so as he stared into her eyes while licking his lips, she wanted to let her eyes flutter shut again to escape the skin crawling intensity of his gaze. She arched her back and tugged on his hair to give herself a reason to close her eyes, watching his flutter shut as she pulled him down for a kiss before hers followed just before their lips met. His lips were soft and pillowy against hers and she sighed, curling her fingers in his hair as she rocked her hips into his. He practically purred into her mouth when she scratched her nails against his scalp.
He pulled back after a moment to watch he again, eyes traveling down her bodies to where his cock was slowly gliding in and out of her, his cum coating his cock, spilling out around it when he pulled out and fucked it back in. The slick sound was sickening, he should have felt embarrassed by how turned on he was by it, and realistically this was stupid, neither of them wanted kids (at least not so young, so early in his career) but jesus christ did they rely on birth control and plan b. A condom was the last thing on either of their minds tonight when all they wanted was to be as close as possible after weeks apart. He couldn’t help himself when she let him do this to her, begged him to do this to her. He couldn’t deny her anything, much less something that felt so good.
It was supposed to be a one time thing, when they ran out of condoms without noticing they used the last one and she begged him to fuck her without one after he mentioned asking Lando for some, saying she’d rather not face that embarrassment. He hesitated, worried he wouldn’t even last, worried she would get pregnant at the start of his rookie season, but she pulled him back into bed and told him she’d had an IUD for two years and that it would last for three more, so she would be fine. He could even go and buy her a Plan B first thing in the morning.
That was six months ago and they grew careless, no longer making trips to buy them when they ran out. They’d buy them if they walked by an aisle with them, or saw them hanging on the other side of the counter when checking out, but as soon as Oscar found out there was a safety net in place… He didn’t know what got into him when she let him go bare, obviously he was still young and had plenty of stamina normally, but he could fuck her for hours, filling her over and over before one or both of them couldn’t go anymore. It was a bit disgusting, a bit concerning, the way he seemed to go feral when they ran out of condoms, not that she minded.
Oscar was pulled back to earth as she squirmed underneath him and whined his name, and he realized he’d zoned out watching his cock sliding in and out of her. He shifted his gaze back up to her and she was blushing, “I hate it when you stare at me like that.”
He laughed and leaned down to bump his nose against hers as he mumbled, “Like what?”
She shrugged weakly, “I can’t explain it you look like…” She sighed, tilting her head as his lips moved to her neck and began sucking softly, “Like you’re trying to memorize me, like you think I’m a dream you’re going to wake up from.”
He sucked softly on her skin and hummed, “I am trying to memorize you, I want to know everything about you, ‘m so completely obsessed with you.” Her cunt fluttered around him and she whined at his words and his mouth as he nipped at her throat before he pulled back and brushed his lips against hers as he said, “‘M in love with you, so sickeningly in love with you.” She tried to say it back and he pressed his lips to hers quickly before hushing her as he pulls back and looks at her again with that look, “Be quiet, ‘m not done. I want you with every fibre of my being, I think about you all the time, I couldn’t live without you. Every second of every day I am trying to memorize every little thing about you, because I’m scared you are a dream about to slip away from me.”
She squirmed under his gaze, the intensity of his words, the look in his eyes, the feel of him between her legs, it all made the knot in her stomach tighten as she whined , “I- ‘m gonna cum.” He grinned stupidly at her and dipped down to kiss her again, their lips slotting together as he picked up his pace and pressed his thumb to his clit. He couldn’t help but spell his name into it as he pushed her over the edge, just one more way of showing her how much he loves her. He feels his orgasm crash over him suddenly as she tightens her legs around him and her orgasm teases a second one out of him with no warning. He could feel her sweat slick body writhing under him with the power of her orgasm, gasping his name into his mouth as she pulled his hair and dug her nails blissfully into his shoulder, scratching down to his bicep as he rocked his hips against hers and she shuddered with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
She feels so full of him when he fills her a second time, his cock twitching inside of her as his orgasm hits him with no warning. Their would be kiss turned into them gasping and moaning into each other’s mouths as they came together. Oscar stopped moving when she stopped shaking underneath him and relaxed his weight against her, hands moved to cup her cheeks as he tenderly kissed her. She broke the kiss before he was ready and he chased her lips with a whine, but she turned her head so his lips hit his hand on her cheek. She giggled, “I love you, Oz.” His lips transformed into a grin as he pulled his hand away to sloppily press kisses into her face, his other hand pressing against her cheek to straighten her her head so he could kiss her all around her face. Her eyes scrunched shut as he pressed a wet kiss into her temple, then her forehead, her cheek, her chin. She giggled the entire time, fingers curling in his hair as butterflies filled her stomach. Just when she thought he was going to kiss her again, his head tilted down to her neck and she couldn’t help but tease as he mouthed at her skin, “Now who’s insatiable?”
He hummed, “You just.. taste so good, baby.” His teeth sunk into her skin and she hissed as he pulled his body from hers, his cock sliding out of her against her will. She tried locking her legs behind his back to pull him back in, not wanting to lose the feel of him just yet, but his hands found her thighs and pushed them open on the bed as he kissed down her body. She suddenly realized what he meant a moment before and her legs tried to close against his steady grip keeping them open and she whined, “Not again.” She felt his lips twitch into a smile as he kissed her belly button and she tugged on his hair, trying to pull him back up. “Oz, baby, you already-“
He shook his head as he pulled back to admire her pussy dripping his cum as he interrupted her, “Not like this.” Her entire body jolted as he swiped two fingers against her, her now free leg trying to close, but his body prevented it as he collected his cum on his digits. She whined pitifully as he lifted them to her lips, that sickening needy look in his eyes as he silently asked her to open her mouth for him. And she did, she would do anything for him. Her lips parted and she stuck her tongue out and his fingers immediately found their place in her mouth. He sighed and kissed the thigh that had wrapped around his shoulders before promising, “I’ll be gentle… I just… want a little taste. Let me clean you up, baby.” She whined around his fingers and her eyes fluttered shut as she nodded.
Just like he said, he was gentle. Oscar’s lips brushed from where they were kissing her thigh to her center and she felt his warm breath on her a moment before his mouth. She whimpered and twitched underneath him, body confused on if it should follow the overpowering pleasure or run from it. His tongue was soft as it lapped against her entrance and poked inside, she could have dealt with that, but his perfect nose was nudging her painfully sensitive clit and she knew she’d be cumming again as tears welled up in her closed eyes.
Oscar could feel her fingers tightening in his hair, her moaning around his fingers, could feel her swallowing the spit that collected in her mouth around his fingers. He felt bad for her as he pulled his fingers from her mouth and finally heard her breathy whimpers as her thigh twitched against him and the one still under his hand fought to press into him like the other. He was letting her do this, he might as well let her trap him where he wanted to be. Her legs immediately locked around his head and her back arched blissfully when his hand slipped from where it was holding her down to wrap around her leg and pull her closer.
Oscar was going to make her cum again, he hadn’t planned on it, he truly was just going to go in for a little taste and clean her up, but once she rocked her hips against his face he couldn’t help it. He licked from her entrance to her clit and wrapped his lips around it suddenly, softly suckling at the bundle of nerves. She was overwhelmed with pleasure, her entire body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending in her body was sending signals to her brain at once and she couldn’t think straight as she rocked towards her nth orgasm. Her body shot up and she yanked at his hair, “Oz, that’s too much, I-“ Her body flopped back and she arched her back as she interrupted herself with a loud moan. In the brief moment she’d sat up he’d seen the tears trickling from her eyes and he couldn’t help the moan that escaped him. She couldn’t form coherent thoughts or get a solid word out as he forced another orgasm out of her. She was being so good for him, he thought, as she cried above him, “Oz- I-“ She gasped and whined and he nodded against her, only drawing her closer to her impending orgasm, “Please, Oz, I’m- it hurts, baby.” He hummed and wrapped his arms tighter around her legs, lost in how good she tasted and felt on his tongue. He could feel how close she was, her entire body was pulsing under him, and he just needed to feel her cum on his tongue one last time.
He felt desperate as he nipped at the bud teasingly and she unraveled beneath him, body jerking as she whined and gasped and choked out his name before she collapsed onto the sheets again. He immediately pulled away and began kissing her thighs, apologizing between each kiss as he left a trail of cum and spit along her skin. Oscar pressed kisses all the way up and down both legs, up her stomach and up and down both arms before he began kissing her cheeks softly, the salty tears mixing with the lingering taste of cum in his lips. She felt herself coming back to earth when he was kissing her fingertips, the kisses and apologies before that lost in an orgasm induced haze. She giggled dreamily at him as he repeated sorry between each kiss to her cheeks, “Why are you apologizing, my love?”
He pressed his nose into her cheek, “Didn’t mean to hurt you.”
She blushed, “I like it when you hurt me.”
Oscar blushed too at the admission, even though he’d heard it before, and pressed his lips to hers softly before murmuring, “I like hurting you too, but I still have to take care of you baby. I’m gonna run you a bath, okay? I’ll be back.” She tried to hold him back, but he slipped away from her easily. He returned a few minutes later and scooped her up as she started sitting up to follow him. “Let me take care of you,” He replied her when she told him she could walk after he lifted her into his arms. He set her down and let her climb into the bath on shaky legs, then climbed in behind her and pulled her back into his chest.
They stayed like that for awhile, her hands finding his in the water to play with his fingers to occupy the time. He started feeling drowsy, so he forced them to sit up so they could take turns washing each other’s bodies and hair before she relaxed into his arms again, too comfortable in the hot water to get out and face the cold air conditioning. He made her get out when she started drifting off against his chest, kissing her shoulder as he sat up and moved her with him. He drained the water and dried her off with a towel before kneeling in front of her to find each bruise where his fingers had dug in a little too hard and kissing them, murmuring an apology to each one he found. He treated her like a porcelain doll as he dressed her in a nightgown before he braided her hair down her back. She kept trying to do things herself, and each time he’d pull whatever she grabbed from her hands and repeat his last words. It didn’t stop until he carried her to bed after she brushed her teeth, he tried to, sat her on the counter and put the paste on the tooth brush but she snatched it from him.
She crawled in first and kicked the fresh blanket back for him to crawl in next to her, he’d requested it as soon as he arrived at the hotel, knowing they’d end up defiling the one already on the bed. He stood in his boxers and stared at her for a moment before searching for his phone on the floor where it had fallen earlier when she’d rushed to get his pants off. He found it after kicking their discarded clothing around and found it under her shirt from earlier. He turned back to her and found her in the same pose as before, now with her head tilted prettily and her eyebrows scrunched. He took a photo of her with each step he took to the bed, until he crawled onto the bed and she laid back and held her arms out for him. He took a few more before he set one of her reaching out as his lockscreen and dropped the device on the sheets, then dropped his body into her waiting arms.
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slutforln4 · 16 hours
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i really wanna write something for logan but no one requests our lil american boy 😔🤲
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scuderiahoney · 2 months
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Color Theory
Oscar Piastri x artist!reader
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Masterlist
Summary: Oscar’s an old friend of yours. This time when he comes home to visit, things get messy. Word Count: 6.6k
Warnings: alcohol, mild drug use, sexual content 18+ MDNI, overuse of color descriptions
It’s summer in Australia, your favorite time of year despite the overbearing sun and the overwhelming heat. Sweat spikes on your brow, but the sunlight that pours through the windows makes you happy. The door to the back garden is open, the smell of wildflowers blowing in with the breeze. You can hear your roommates chattering in the other room. You hold a paint palette in one hand, a brush in the other. There’s something just slightly off about this piece, some part of the light you’re not capturing quite right. You step back from the painting, trying to get a better view of the whole picture.
Someone calls your name from inside. You ignore them. By the third time you hear your name, you give in, setting the palette and brush down and heading inside. You’re still wearing your apron, covered in paint marks.
Lizzy, one of your roommates, smiles at you. “How’s it going?”
You sigh heavily. “Can’t get the light right.”
She nods in understanding. “We’re ordering pizza. Oscar’s on his way. Thought I’d give you a heads up in case you decide to try painting in your underwear again.”
You laugh. “It was one time,” you say defensively. “It was hot out and I was trying to become-“
“-one with the art, I know, I know,” she teases. “Just giving you a warning!”
You lean on the counter and let out a long breath. “It’s gonna be weird, isn’t it? Him being here?”
Oscar’s an old friend of yours, and your roommates, too. Old, like preteens old. He left for the UK so long ago that you’d probably barely remember what he looked like if it weren’t for video calls and social media and now, his face being plastered everywhere. You’ve kept up, have stayed friends through it all. But it’s the first time you’ll be seeing him in person in over a year, the first time he’s ever going to visit your shared house, the first time since… since he became Oscar Piastri and not just Oscar.
Lizzy shrugs. “Only weird if we make it weird, right?”
She’s right, to a certain extent. Your other roommate, Leo, shows up with Oscar in tow, and you do your best to not be weird about it, and you think it works. He greets you and Lizzy with long hugs. He smells like sea salt and something warm. His body’s much more firm and filled out than he was the last time you saw him, which makes sense, you suppose. He still smiles like golden yellow sunshine, though, crinkled eyes and round cheeks and that near permanent blush on his face.
The pizza arrives shortly after he does, and you all settle into the living room to catch up. Oscar tells stories about racing, about his first year in F1, about his teammate and his competitors. You’ve been keeping up with the races more than you ever did before- Leo always wanted to watch but you hadn’t cared that much before it was Oscar, before the guy in the orange car was the same kid who used to finger paint with you in the backyard, your mother worried about the mess. Now you sit glued to the TV most Sundays.
In turn, you, Lizzy, and Leo update Oscar on what he’s missed. All about your family lives, your jobs, your other friends he’s lost touch with. He listens intently to each story, the way he always has.
“What are you doing for work?” He asks, nudging your knee.
You sigh dejectedly. “Nothing fun.”
He pouts. Leo elbows you and speaks up, though.
“She’s still painting, though,” he says brightly. “You should see the sunroom.”
Oscar’s face lights up. “Is that your studio? You always said you wanted a sunroom.”
He’s always been one of your biggest supporters when it comes to your art. He’s the one who’d join you in the art room at lunchtime in school, eating his lunch at one of the counters while you worked on your latest piece, unable to put the paintbrush down. He’d attended all your art shows, had bought you paints and brushes and sketchbooks for birthdays and Christmases, and had even posed for a portrait you’d been required to paint for class. He’d had a hard time sitting still for that long without falling asleep.
You nod with a smile growing on your face. “Living the dream with that one.”
The night slips away from all of you, caught up in conversations about everything under the sun. You find yourself feeling sad when Oscar goes to leave. He does it with hugs and a promise to be back in a few days. When he leaves through the front door, you feel that emptiness again, that hole that’s never healed quite right after he left.
Lizzy sees it on your face and squeezes your shoulder. “He’ll be back.”
Two days later, you’re deep in painting mode, eyes beginning to ache as you stare at the canvas in front of you, when there’s a noise from the sunroom doorway. You turn and find Oscar standing there, eyes wide, brows raised. He chews on his lip sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he says, quietly. You hold back a laugh. “Leo said to come over and just let myself in, and I heard a noise, and- sorry-“
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, tilting your head and smiling. “Leo should’ve told you, he ran to the store for drinks.”
Oscar rolls his eyes, and his shoulders drop. “Right.”
“You’re welcome to hang out, though,” you say, nodding at the chair off to the side in the sunroom. “Don’t want you getting bored all by yourself.”
He hesitated. “I don’t want to be a bother.”
He never would have questioned it before. He would’ve already been sitting, would’ve already known what you were painting, would’ve helped you get your palette set up. It’s different now. He’s been gone a while.
You jut your chin towards the chair again and wave a paintbrush in that direction. “Please. You’ve never been a bother.”
He was always the only one of your friends that you allowed to watch you paint. He knew when to stay quiet, and when you needed the background noise of his voice, without ever having to ask. He shuffles over to the chair and sits down. Oscar’s gaze dances through the room with wide eyes, and when you turn back to the canvas, you can feel him watching intently.
“What do you think?” You ask, just to break the silence. You gesture at the paintings lined up around the room. “Have my skills improved?”
He lets out a slow breath. “They’re amazing,” he says, and your heart twists in your chest. “I’m so glad you kept up on it. That you didn’t lose your… you know. Passion. Sounds cheesy, but I mean it.”
You nod. Most of your friends and family had spent your teenage years trying to convince you to learn any skill other than art. You’d continued pouring yourself into the paintings. Oscar had been one of your only cheerleaders through it all.
“It’s not easy,” you admit. “Bills and shit, you know? Real adult stuff. But I’ve been trying to get into some galleries recently. I don’t know if it’ll ever be something I can make a living off of, but I’ve gotta try.”
Oscar nods in understanding. “How about when I win my first championship, I’ll make good on my promise?”
You laugh. There’d been a night just before he’d left for the UK where the two of you had stayed up late, out far past curfew at the local park. You’d laid under a tree next to him, giddy on the high of breaking the rules and the late hour. He’d told you all about his big dreams. About F1 and championships and how he was going to make it big. And when you’d asked if he’d remember you, he’d smiled and turned his head towards you, eyes wide in the pale moonlight, nose nearly touching yours.
“I’ll use my money and open a gallery,” he’d promised. “And I’ll fill it with all of your paintings.”
You’d rolled your eyes. “Even the bad ones?”
He’d nodded, so seriously. “Especially the bad ones.”
Now he sits next to you in your makeshift studio, so close to reaching his dreams. You can only hope you’ll get there, too, someday.
There’s a party at your house that night. There’ll be more people there than usual, wanting to talk with Oscar and taking up his time. But for now there’s just you and him in the studio you’ve always wanted, the one you talked about under the tree in the park. You’ll take what you can get.
Oscar finds you later at the party, in the back corner of the backyard. The sun is nearly gone, the last bits of daylight slipping away. When he walks up, you’re leaning back in an outdoor armchair, and you smile hazily up at him and hold out the joint you’d been smoking.
He shakes his head. You pout.
“I get drug tested,” he says, and you suppose that’s understandable. “And I think my trainer would kill me over the lung damage.”
“It’s just once,” you friend says next to you, “can’t do that much damage.”
“Oscar’s a high performance athlete,” you tease.
Someone finishes the infamous Daniel Ricciardo quote for you, complete with the sound effects. You’re not really listening, more focused on how Oscar rolls his eyes as he sits down on the arm of the chair. You tilt your head to look up at him.
The late sun is hitting the bridge of his nose, a bright orange band against his freckled skin. He blinks at you with thick lashes, and you wonder how you’d capture the look on his face with paint- the softness of his cheeks, the care that sits heavy on his browbone, the restlessness in the curve of his mouth. You don’t like to do portraits- Oscar’s one of few people you’ve painted, but it was years ago. He was a skinny kid with a bad haircut. Now his jawline is chiseled and sharp, and his hair falls over his forehead in a soft swoop. He's pretty.
He cocks his head at you. You’ve been staring too long. You force a giggle and nudge his knee. He laughs right back.
You’re not sure how he ends up squished into the chair with you, his arm over your shoulder, his bare thigh pressed to yours. You think maybe it was your doing- you grabbed his arm, pulled him until he sunk in next to you. The sun is gone, now, the evening chill taking over, and it’s nice to have him next to you, keeping you warm. His cheek is pressed to the top of your head.
“You can go, you know,” you say quietly. Most of your friends have abandoned the corner you’re in, moving to the lit back deck, or the firepit area. You and Oscar have stayed put, though.
“D’you want me to go?” He asks.
You shake your head. He laughs. “I just don’t wanna take up all your time,” you say with a shrug.
His fingers play with the ends of your hair. “I’m right where I want to be.”
You curl in closer to him. You’re right where you want to be, too.
Eventually, the two of you rejoin the group. He stays glued to your side most of the night, though. His shoulder presses against yours, and in turn, you lean against him. He grows quieter as the night goes on. That’s when you remember that his time spent with you while you were painting wasn’t just for your benefit. He’d been a quiet kid- popular, but easily exhausted by socializing. He’d liked the solitude and comfort of the art room nearly as much as you had.
In the backyard full of your old friends, he seems content to stay stuck on you. When he shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, you wiggle one of yours in alongside his, hoping you’re not crossing a line. Or maybe, really, you’re hoping it’s a line he wants you to cross. When he knits your fingers together, you sigh happily.
People leave one by one, with hugs for Oscar and promises to watch the next season. He says goodbye to them and then returns quickly to your side. Soon enough, Lizzy shuffles off to bed, and then Leo stretches and does the same, and it’s just you and Oscar. You hide a yawn. You don’t want to go to bed, not yet.
He squeezes your shoulder, his arm around your back, now. He has his cheek pressed against your temple. For a moment, you wonder if you could stay stuck to him long enough to keep him here. If eventually, the two of you would fuse together. That’s probably just your wavering high speaking. He mumbles something into the side of your head. You break from your staring at the coals and make a noise of confusion.
“Missed you,” he says. “Sorry I haven’t…”
This feels like too heavy a conversation to have now, when things have felt so good and warm all night. You know it’s coming at some point, but you’ll avoid it all costs. You turn further into him and wrap an arm around his middle, and let your eyes fall closed.
“I missed you too,” you say, rubbing your thumb against his rib cage through his sweatshirt.
The two of you sit quietly for a few moments. Then, you say, “you know, I still have that portrait I did of you. How many races d’you think you need to win before I can make some money off that?”
He laughs into your hair. His hand has fallen to your side now, and he squeezes- you nearly gasp at the feeling. “I was a scrawny baby in that painting. Nobody wants to buy that.”
You giggle against him. “You were a cute scrawny baby, though.”
It’s not something you would have said all those years ago. You’d have never been caught dead admitting that you thought he was cute. But now… in the safety of the backyard, in the darkness, pressed against his side…
“You’re cuter now, though,” you say.
“Yeah?” He asks.
You nod confidently. He slips his other hand from his pocket. It comes up to hold your jaw, gently. You hold your breath. He tilts your face up towards his.
“You’re prettier than ever,” he says, softly. “And I thought you reached the limit a long time ago.”
His lips are on yours within seconds, then. It’s not the first time he’s kissed you. By now, you know it probably won’t be the last. You let it happen, opening up for him. You slip your tongue past the warmth of his lips. His hand cups the side of your face as that warm feeling melts across your skin, the one that only he brings. You’ve been searching for a replacement since the last time this happened. Nothing comes close.
He uses the arm around you to pull you into his lap. You reach up and thread your fingers into his shirt, something to anchor you in the swirling feeling of him on and around and against you again. His hands fall to your hips, trying to do the same. He kisses like Australian summers, hot and long and sunny and bright orange. His touch leaves sparks behind everywhere he goes.
When you finally break away for air, his hair is a mess, and your lips feel puffy. He grins sheepishly at you. You chew on your lower lip as he brushes a finger over the arch of your cheek.
“Sorry,” he says. Always apologizing. You know he’s not sorry for kissing you. He’s sorry for how this will eventually end.
“Don’t be,” you say, quietly. “Please. Let’s just…”
He nods, then swallows before he says, “okay.”
Then he kisses your cheek, your jaw, your temple. You giggle at the feeling and let your fingertips dance against his face and neck. He muffles another laugh into your skin.
“Missed you,” you say again.
“I missed you too,” he says.
He walks you inside. You think about inviting him to stay the night, but you think that might be a bad idea. Instead, you give him a hug and watch him walk out the front door, into the only black and blue night.
…..
You meet up with him and a few other friends at a bar a couple nights later. You walk over from your house with Lizzy, who either doesn’t notice your nervous energy, or is nice enough to just not mention it. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s the people you’ve known for years, and it’s just Oscar. There’s no reason to be nervous.
Except for the still fading hickey he left on your neck, covered by strategically placed hair, and the way you feel his lips on your every time you close your eyes. Yeah. There’s that, sure.
The bar is crowded even before all of your friends arrive. Oscar comes in with Leo, having been out all day while you and Lizzy had to work. There are at least five people there who are acting like they haven’t seen Oscar in years, even though they were all at the party a few nights ago. You try your best to hide your jealousy. He has other friends. He probably likes them way more than he likes you, anyways.
He finds you later, standing at the bar, waiting to order a drink. He’s just- there, all of the sudden, warm shoulder pressed to yours, elbows on the countertop. He smiles softly at you when you turn to him, and he leans into you.
“Hi,” he says. “I was looking for you.”
You want to laugh, because surely he wasn’t, but- there’s something so serious in his eyes. You lean into him in response, just to watch him raise his brows and smile wider. There’s a little mole on the swell of his cheek. You want to reach out and touch it. You refrain.
“I’m here,” you finally say, nodding towards your crowd of friends in the corner. “You’ve been a busy man tonight.”
He sighs, heavily, like it’s been difficult for him. It probably has been. He’s a quiet person in general. Not one to really like being the center of attention. You wonder if he’s exhausted as easily by it now as he was before, or if his years of podium celebrations have dulled the sensation a bit. Wonder how much of your Oscar is still left, under the facade.
He chews on his lower lip lightly, and you smile softly. That’s an old habit. That’s one you recognize. You also think of the night by the firepit, how you’d pulled that same lip between your own teeth, and the noise he’d made in response. Your face grows warm.
The bartender finally turns to you. Oscar orders for both of you, because of course he knows what you’re drinking. Then you follow him back to the crowd of your friends. When he grabs your hand to pull you along, you don’t complain. You just squeeze his fingers in response.
You stumble out of the bar with him, hand in hand, hours later. He’s insistent on walking you and Lizzy home, claiming that Leo won’t be enough to keep an eye on the both of you. You’re just happy to have his fingers locked with yours, to have his shoulder brushing against you as you both sway down the sidewalk. It’s comfortably warm outside, and you hum to yourself as you walk, listening to Lizzy and Leo arguing about nothing important.
Your journey home is stopped by Oscar, who stops in his tracks suddenly. You turn back to look at him. He’s staring across the street, where there’s a neon sign lit up in the window, the word Pizza flashing like a beacon. You laugh as he tugs on your hand.
“No, come on, we’re going home,” Lizzy calls out.
“I want pizza,” Oscar says in response, deadpan.
You turn to your roommates and shrug. “He wants pizza.”
Lizzy sighs. “I want to go home.”
“You guys go,” Oscar says with a dismissive wave. “I’ll make sure she gets home safe.”
Less than ten minutes later, your legs are stuck to the vinyl of the pizza parlor booth, knee bumping Oscar’s underneath the table. There’s a pepperoni pizza between the two of you, far too much for you to actually finish.
“Yknow,” he says, waving a piece of pizza around in the air. “Logan dips his pizza in ranch.”
You laugh at the disgusted look on Oscar’s face, at the way he says ranch. You take a sip of the soda he insisted on buying for you, along with the food.
“Bet it’s good,” you admit, shrugging.
Oscar wrinkles his nose. “I’m not a picky eater, but… isn’t pizza good enough on its own?”
You shrug, pretending to think deeply about it. Except that Oscar knows you well enough to know you’re pretending, so he starts laughing. And then you follow suit, doubled over in the booth, grease from the pizza on your fingertips.
As his laughter fades, he presses his knee against yours. It feels deliberate.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he says.
Something twists in your chest. “Missed you, too, Osc.”
Your friendship goes through cycles. When he’s here, it’s almost like nothing has changed. But when he’s gone… the two of you aren’t good at long distance friendship. Or maybe, really, you’re better at it than most. You can go months without talking and pick up like nothing has changed. The tough part comes when he’s here, within reach, and then he leaves. That’s the moment you dread, the part you don’t handle well. It would probably be easier if you stopped kissing him every time he came home. But you look across the table, and his lips are soft and cherry pink and slightly shiny from the pizza, and you know that would be impossible.
“I’ve missed you too,” you say, because you know he needs to hear it even if he already knows it. “I was worried that maybe now that you’re in F1, you’d gotten too important for… us.”
You really mean me, but it feels a bit too much to say out loud. You think he knows, anyways. He reaches a hand across the table, lays it over top of yours. There’s a sad smile on his face.
“I could never,” he says, eyes drilling right into yours. “Promise.”
He walks you home, hand in hand. The front porch light is on, probably Lizzie’s doing. He insists on coming all the way up to the front door, which is sweet and does absolutely awful things to your brain. Because he’s right there, his hand in yours, and you’re fumbling for your house key in your purse, but really you’re thinking about kissing him. When his fingers squeeze yours, you give up on the key and turn to him.
He knows it’s coming, you think. When you cup his face in your hand, he’s already leaning in.
The kiss is softer, messier, than the other night. You’re both still a little tipsy. But it’s less frantic, more comfortable. His other hand falls to your hip, and you lean back against the front door to your house and melt into him. He presses against you, warm, firm muscle against every curve of your body. You don’t want this to end. You want to wrap your arms around his neck and beg him to stay right here, to never leave, to come back to you.
He pulls away first. You try to kiss him again, hands tugging at his hips as he pants through reddened lips.
“You’re drunk,” he mumbles.
You shake your head no. “Not that drunk.”
He leans in close and kisses your cheek. “This is a bad idea.”
That makes your gut twist, makes your chest hurt. You roll your eyes and turn away so he won’t see the way your tears well up. He’s right, you know, but it hurts to hear it.
“I care about you. A lot,” he says, quietly. “And I… if things were different…”
“I know,” you say, because you do know. “Yeah. Bad idea. You should go.”
You leave him standing on the porch and disappear inside the house. When you lay down in bed, you lay awake for hours, swirls of color dancing behind your eyelids.
…..
The next night, you find yourself in your studio, alone. There’s paint on the canvas in front of you- not the good stuff you’d normally use, but the cheap kind you keep on hand for moments like these. Children’s finger paint, runny and thin and non-toxic. It’s running down the palette and dripping down your wrist. You’re in a pair of shorts and a sports bra, and frankly, you’d probably be wearing less if you didn’t know your roommates were due home eventually.
Oscar’s leaving tomorrow morning. At this point, the last you’ll see of him for a while will be when you left him on the porch. You swipe a bit of blue on the canvas. You’re not really painting anything, just trying to put color to the feelings. He’s leaving and he’ll be gone for a while again, and things are weird again, because he kissed you and then you kissed him and now he has to leave. You add a swipe of orange. Papaya, you think, gritting your teeth.
You wonder if things really would’ve been different. If he’d stayed, would you be together? Would he love you the way you want him to? Maybe. Or maybe, no matter the universe, this is how it ends. Maybe there’s always a bigger dream waiting. Maybe you’re not enough for him.
There’s a knock on the door. There’s red paint on your fingertips.
“Busy,” you call out.
Someone sighs. You freeze, hand halfway to the canvas. It doesn’t sound like Lizzy or Leo.
“It’s me,” Oscar says. “Can I come in?”
You huff. “Sure.”
He opens the door and blinks owlishly at the sight of you. You know you probably look crazy. He steps into the room and shuts the door behind him. The silence is deafening. Paint runs off the palette and onto your leg.
“Rough day?” He asks, because he knows.
You laugh bitterly. “You could say that, yeah.”
“I’m-“
“Don’t apologize,” you say with a sigh. “I’m not sorry.”
“No?”
“No,” you say. “I’m just… frustrated.”
Frustrated that he gets to live out his dream while you wither away in the hot Australian sun, waiting for your chance. Frustrated that every time he comes back it sends you into a tailspin. Frustrated that he’s leaving again. Frustrated with yourself for kissing him, frustrated that you want to do it again.
He crosses the room and stands next to you. You watch his shaky fingers drag through the mess on the palette. Then he reaches out and drags them through the mess on the canvas. He’s the only one you’d let do that, the only one who’d be brave enough to even try.
You follow suit, dip a finger in the yellow and smear it in a line over the canvas. Oscar’s finger falls to your wrist, scoops the bright blue from your skin and draws a squiggle with it. Cadmium Yellow and Phthalo Blue mix on the canvas and turn into envy green. Oscar dips his hand into the Cobalt Violet and draws a line of it up your arm like a bruise. You laugh and pick up the Ultramarine Blue to match the empty feeling in your chest. It leaves behind rivers on his cheeks when you hold his face in your hand and kiss him. Gently, first, and then with all the color you can muster up. You drop the palette on the floor. It splatters everywhere.
You wonder how you’d go about painting this. Red for the brush of his tongue, the bite of his teeth against your neck. Blue for the way his fingers dig into your hips. Bright pink for the way he moans into your mouth, breathy and broken and oh-so-lovely. The way you drop to your knees is lavender purple. The feeling of him heavy on your tongue, the way he sighs over it, is sunflower yellow.
He gets paint in your hair when he pulls you off of him, and then he sinks to his knees with you. You think about suggesting the couch, but then he’s pulling you all the way down onto the floor and you can’t bring yourself to protest. He cleans the paint from his hands first, always a gentleman. Then his fingers slip into you in a rush of an orangey-yellow feeling, one that turns more and more pink with each press of his hand, each swipe of his thumb against your clit. And when he finally presses his cock into you, it’s the brightest burst of sky blue behind your eyelids.
The colors melt together in your mind. You’d never be able to put this onto a canvas- not the way he breathes so heavy in your ear, the way his fingers drag against your skin, the way you shake as you clench around him and he spills himself inside of you. There’s no way you’d get the color right.
You drag him upstairs afterwards, both of you giggling, and you gasp when you hear the front door open just as you pull him into your bedroom. You head for the attached bathroom first, drag him under the hot spray of water and watch the rainbow mix into brown and wash away down the drain. There’s paint crusted in his hair and yours- you do your best to scrub it out as he leans heavily against you.
You don’t even bother asking if he wants to stay. You just drag him to the bed and toss him a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants you think are Leo’s. He doesn’t question it. You can hear your roommates downstairs talking. You wonder if they know.
Oscar flops onto the bed and reaches for you, tugging at the hem of the oversized t-shirt you’re wearing. You go easily, willingly, eagerly. He wraps you up in his arms and presses his face into your neck.
“I…” he starts, then cuts himself off.
“I know,” you murmur, because you do. “Me too.”
I love you. I wish it was different. I would stay if I could. I’ll miss you.
You wake up in the morning to his lips against your cheek. You drag yourself out of bed to walk him to the door. Your chest aches, and the feeling is a color that you can’t quite put your finger on. Someone’s there to pick him up and take him to the airport, take him far away for a long time.
He kisses you on the forehead and squeezes your shoulder. “I’ll see you soon,” he promises.
You nod and lean up to kiss his cheek. “Yeah. See you soon.”
The ache he leaves behind is a muddy mix of all your favorite colors.
…..
Six months later, you stand in an art gallery full of people. Your paintings hang on the wall nearby. You sip your drink and try to pretend like you’re not waiting and watching their every little reaction. Like you’re not searching for validation in the faces of strangers.
It’s strange to have these paintings hung up for everyone to see. When others look at them, they see pretty landscapes or flowers or a simple still life. They don’t know the meaning of it all.
You step away to grab another drink, something to quell the anxiety rising in your chest. When you come back, the one person who might just see through the facade is standing there, staring, wide eyed.
You swallow tightly and walk up next to him, and let your shoulder bump into his. “You made it.”
Oscar’s eyes stay trained on the paintings, but he leans into you. “Of course I made it.”
You want to tell him that there’s no of course here, that you’d invited him without really expecting him to show up. You keep your mouth shut though. It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that he is here.
“What do you think?” You ask, quietly.
The truth is, of all the people in the gallery, his opinion is the one that matters most. You wonder what he sees when he looks at the canvases. Does he see the rays of sunlight on a table for what they truly are- a poor recreation of the sun on his skin? Does he realize that the deep purple of the plums in the still life matches the bruise on your knee that lasted for weeks after that night in the studio, the one you’d press your thumb into when your heart ached? There’s the painting of the orange lilies, color matched to the papaya of his car and race suit. There’s a painting of an empty table setting, a painting of a wide open blue sky over the backyard, and most telling of all, there’s the fabric study of his t-shirt, left behind, draped over the chair in the studio.
The collection is the closest thing to a portrait that you’ve done in years, even though there are no people in it. It’s the closest thing to a self portrait that you’ve ever done. Does he know?
His hand brushes against your elbow. He points at the empty plate on the empty table. “That’s how leaving felt for me, too, you know.”
You could cry, just knowing he understands. Instead, you nod and lean into him. You have people to talk to, art critics to impress and studio owners to try to convince, but the truth is that Oscar will always be the only one who truly understands. You stay with him for just a moment longer.
He stays the whole time, even as people begin to leave and the catering staff starts clearing the tables of food and drinks. You find him after you’ve had the last of your conversations with the important people. He’s standing near the door, looking only slightly out of place, scrolling on his phone.
“You didn’t have to stay the whole time,” you say.
He shrugs and smiles. “I know. I wanted to. There’s a pub down the street, it’s one of my favorites. D’you have time for a drink?”
You nod and pout. “Maybe some food too? M’starving.”
He nods eagerly in agreement. He leads you out of the gallery, holds the door for you and everything. The cool London night air hits you like a blast as you step outside.
Right. You’re not in Australia.
It’s a strange feeling, being here with Oscar- his chosen home for all these years, and yet it’s the first time you’re seeing it with him. He reaches for your hand on the sidewalk and tucks it into his jacket pocket, right alongside his. The pub isn’t far- when you get there, it’s crowded and warm, and he helps you slip your jacket off your shoulders. You smile at him in thanks. When he smiles back, your heart skips a beat.
Ten minutes later, you’re at the bar, beers in front of each of you and a pile of chips between the two of you. Your knee is pressed against his under the countertop. He’s smiling at you, his face lit up golden yellow in the inky gray light of the bar.
“So. What did you really think?” You ask, leaning towards him.
He shakes his head, almost disbelievingly. “The same thing I always think. Your paintings are amazing. It was like I could feel it, you know? Like I’m staring at, I dunno, fucking plums, but feeling something completely different.”
You nod, chest feeling tight. You’re unsure of what to even say. How to explain to him that maybe he’s the only one who feels that, because all the paintings are about him. You think of the portrait you did all those years ago, sitting in your storage, and how it doesn’t even begin to do him justice.
“How much?” He asks, and you blink widely. “I wanna buy them. I want- yeah.” He has this dreamy, hazy look on his face. “Can I buy them? Or even just one-“
“Osc,” you murmur. You reach out and press your hand over his on the countertop. “You don’t have to do that.”
He tilts his head at you, and when he speaks, his voice is almost raw. “I meant what I said, you know. The plate. That’s how I’ve felt. All of the art, it’s… you know.”
“I know,” you say. “But they’re not for sale.”
He deflates. You squeeze his hand and try not to grin too widely. “Right,” he says. “No, of course, sorry. Just thought it might be cool to have some of them in my apartment. We could get prints made, right?”
“Sure. “ you pause and take a deep breath. “The gallery wants to extend them,” you say, and his face lights up again. “The curator spoke to me after the show. She wants to keep them up for a few months.”
“That’s amazing,” he gushes, leaning over and pulling you into a hug so tight it almost topples you off the barstool. “Oh, wow, baby, that’s- and I could go see them, then, even when you’re gone?”
You laugh against his chest. “Yeah. Sure. Or, um…”
He freezes, the hand that had been sweeping up your back stuck in place. He’s holding his breath. You might be too.
“They offered me an artist’s residency,” you blurt out. “They want me to come stay for six months, maybe longer if it goes well. Work out of their studio, show art, teach some classes.”
Oscar’s voice is breathy and high pitched when he says, “here?”
You nod against his chest. “I mean. I’d have to find an apartment. And move all my stuff. And probably break Leo and Lizzy’s hearts.”
“But you’d be here,” he says. “Here, like… it took me twenty minutes to get here tonight. And you’d- this is what you’ve dreamed of, isn’t it?”
You nod, eyes burning with tears. “Would that be okay?”
Oscar laughs- you feel it more than hear it, in the shake of his shoulders and the rumble in his chest. “Yeah. I could live with that, I think.”
He kisses you in the bar, nearly pulls you off the stool with the force of it. You kiss him right back, bracing your hand on the countertop, not a care in the world who sees it. Fireworks light up behind your eyes like splashes of paint.
…..
There’s not a sunroom you can turn into a studio in your new apartment in London. It’s a smaller space, and you end up doing most of your painting at the main studio anyways. But Oscar is there, perched on the edge of a table watching you paint whenever he can. And in the entryway of your new place, you hang up the old portrait of him, right next to a photo of the two of you taken just after you moved to London.
In the photo, his arm is around your shoulders, his lips against your temple. He’d asked you to be his girlfriend officially seconds after it was taken, but there’s a light in both of your eyes that tells you it was inevitable, really. It’s something in the way he’s smiling, in the way his cheeks burn red and his lips are pink and the way you smile at him, too. Like you’ve both known it all along. That the two of you have always been complementary colors, just waiting for the right moment.
a/n: been working on this one for a while finally got it! hope you enjoyed thanks for reading!
Taglist: @4-mula1 @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1
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apollosdaydreams · 6 months
Text
Let Me In
Lando Norris x Reader
Summary: You are dating Lando Norris, you love him don’t get me wrong but sometimes he can be a bit forgetful. Lando loves to game when he's not busy with racing, often streaming while he plays. When he streams it's like the outside world doesn't exist. You were coming over and you had forgotten your keys to his place, and Lando had his phone on silent. 
Warnings: None fluff, adult language. I have no clue how twitch works so sorry if i get that wrong.  
Word Count: 590
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You were currently standing outside Lando’s apartment, you had forgotten your keys and were waiting for him to answer his phone. As time went by you realized that he wasn't going to answer his phone. So you went on twitter and saw that lando was streaming on twitch. You sighed out loud and rolled your eyes. Mumbling on how forgetful he can be when you put a screen in front of his face. 
“Fucking I-Pad kid” You mummbled to you self, while slightly laughing at your situation, of course this would happen to you. It wasn't even Lando’s fault, you had forgotten the keys. 
While standing outside his door thinking what to do, you decided that you should see if he would see your comment. So you downloaded twitch and made an account. You then looked up his account and followed him, you clicked on the live and waited. Nothing happened. So you decided that the next best thing was to subscribe, so you put in your credit card info and then it went through. You then saw that you could add a message. On the screen it read “y/n y/l/n has subscribed! Please let me in Lando. :)” 
“Oh shit!” Lando said while laughing. “My girlfriend! She's on twitch telling me to open the door!” I'll be back guys. You laughed to yourself and stood there waiting. You then saw the door opening. You pretend to look mad, but that only lasted about a second before you both bursted out laughing. 
“I'm sorry baby.” He said while hugging you and pulling you into the apartment. 
“It's fine lands, it's my fault anyway I'm the one who forgot the keys.” You told him.
“But I should have been looking at my phone.” He said, while walking back to his streaming room. 
“Lando, look at me. It's fine. It's my fault, honestly it's actually hilarious.” You told him while laughing. “You better get back to you steam babe, don't want to keep them waiting for too long.” You said. 
“I'll be done soon love.” He said, before he left he kissed you and then went back into his streaming room. 
You decided to have fun watching him on your phone, as you had to pay, better put it to good use. You sat in the living room on the couch, waiting for Lando to be done streaming. 
“Sorry guys, I'm back.” Lando said. “My girlfriend was locked out of my apartment, so I had to go save her.” He said. “She had to subscribe to me!” He laughed. “I gained a subscription so I'm happy!”
You laughed out loud at this, you didn't realize how loud you laughed until you heard Lando addressing you on the stream. “Sorry guys, that was my girlfriend.” He said with the biggest smile on his face. After a few minutes of his staying on Twitch, he told the viewers that it was time for him to go hang out with you, his girlfriend. You turned off your phone and saw him walking into the living room.
“Hi baby.” He said while flopping down on the couch, his head laying in your lap. You moved your hand to his head, running your hand through his curls. 
“Hey lands.” 
“I'm sorry.”
“Lando, if you say sorry one more time I'm going to leave.” you jokingly said. “Don't feel sorry, it’s my fault I'm the idiot who forgot my keys.” 
“I love you so much,” Lando said.
“You are sleeping on the couch tonight.” You said. 
I hope you guys enjoyed this, it would be greatly appreciated if you would like, comment and repost this!! Sorry about the end it was kinda rushed. Sorry for not posting much, I'm busy with college but Thanksgiving break is happening soon, so I hope to write a lot during that time. If you guys have any ideas for me, my requests are still open!! 
Request Guidlines 
© 2023 on tumblr apollosdaydreams do not translate/remake/repost my works in any platform without authorized permission.
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minkyungseokie · 6 days
Text
Private, But Not Secret | Max Verstappen
synopsis; max is in a relationship with a pilot who, despite being popular on the internet, likes to keep their relationship as private as she could
warnings; none
note; requested
note2; I don't think I'm as funny as anyone else who make smaus. I have the sense of humor as a bag of dirt. I tried and I hope you all enjoy this enough to keep requesting. I also did not know how to do a private, but secret romance, so take whatever tf this is
fc; any random woman I find on pintrest
Come Talk to Me
Autosports Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Max Masterlist
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pilotynv posted a photo!
pilotynv
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liked by maxverstappen1, nyckdevries, landnorris, and 2,786,231 others
pilotynv A day in the life
tagged: pilotfriend1, pilotfriend2, pilotfriend3, maxverstappen1
dadlicker MAX CRUMBS!! I REPEAT, MAX CRUMBS!! ⤷ubertomywip First of all, your name 💀 second of all, what ⤷dadlicker Y/n doesn't really post Max ⤷Userdd Because they want to keep the relationship as private as possible
maxverstappen1 ❤️ ♥ by author ⤷pilotynv ❤️
danielriccardo I'm so glad you got that picture ⤷pilotynv You were there and you sent me the picture, dumbass ⤷danielriccardo I did? I must've been so drunk
Duign-23r Why is this bitch so fucking rude? ⤷pilotynv Rude how? I'm interacting with a friend. You would know friendly banter if you had friends ⤷User4 GAGGED
landonorris I didn’t know those windows opened
maxverstappen1 posted a photo!
maxverstappen1
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liked by pilotynv and 129,420 others
maxverstappen1 Simply lovely. Thank you to our orange army in Bahrain for coming out and supporting us. Next stop Saudi Arabia ➡️ 🇸🇦
drillarkillar Simply lovely, my ass. When are you going to stop winning? You're ruining the sport 😒 ⤷ alliseearesainz @drillarkillar Fr, like, let other people win ⤷ hj219 @drillarkillar You DTS crybabies are what's ruining the sport
tututtutmaxverstappen My 2023 world champion!
masterbaiter give us Y/n content 🗣️🗣️🗣️
meirfyct See you in Saudi!
hamburgerler The 2023, 2024, and 2025 world champ
pilotynv You did amazing, my love. It was amazing seeing you in your element ❤️ ♥ by author ⤷maxverstappen1 @pilotynv ❤️
pilotynv posted a photo!
pilotynv
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liked by maxverstappen1, pilotfriend2, landonorris, and 5,552,757
pilotynv Flew us to a remote getaway in Greece
tagged: maxverstappen1
maxverstappen1 ❤️ ♥ by author
gaggingballa she😭 flew 😭 them 😭 there 😭
lalalalisa_m that pizza looks so good! We should visit togther sometime ♥ by author ⤷pilotynv @lalalalisa_m Girl, I'd probably ne flying the plane you take here 😭 ⤷8bobbit0 @lalalalisa_m ariana, what are you doing here?
ariangrande Those pizzas look amazing ⤷arialandomis @arianagrande ARIANA?! ⤷greenblattbanner @arianagrande I knew Y/n was popular, but not that popular
pilotynv added to their story
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replies
username omg max! He looks so good
Jossleftpinkietoe More Max pls!
Ynsimp His smile is so cute
landonorris Tell Max his face looks weird
Fuck off- Max
danielricciardo next time, take me and Heidi with you
Bet. I'll fly us all there again
pilotynv posted a photo
pilotynv
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liked by maxverstappen1 and 4,663,781
pilotynv decided to watch a race for once since I'm off
tagged: maxverstappen1
urethka here before Max
lugunam The hand holding in the car is so cute
Taggedidj We stan a supportive queen
Fashionicosn She looks so good
Bootlicker GOOD LUCK, MAXIE
pilotynv added to their story
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Honestly, I as struggling a bit with this one. I don't know how to make a smau about a private, but not secret relationship lol. Anyway, feel free to request more smaus or written fics
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natailiatulls07 · 11 days
Note
Can you do reader is Lando’s little sister and favourite but they barely see each other cause reader is at boarding school and she surprises him at the race. Also cameo of some other drivers too please.
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Lando Norris x sister!reader
Summary - Request above xo
Warning - Like one swear one
-
During her last year of primary education, Cisca and Adam both sat their youngest child down and discussed the possibility of boarding school. 
Both knew it would be hard for the whole family to separate. Yet they both also knew that it would make their lives a lot easier. 
With Landos up and coming career in motorsport racing and the rest of their children's careers also slowly building up, neither parent wanted to deprive or abandon Y/n. So with her agreement, they enrolled her into a well reviewed and well known boarding school a few miles out of Bristol. 
Laurence Crawford Boarding.
The first few days, of course she was homesick. Missing Lando more than anyone else in the family. Of course. But eventually Y/n made friends and was becoming more and more independent by the day.
-
“Hey Mum!” The young girl giggled down the phone. She was in her shared dorm with a few friends when Cisca called. “Annie! No stop! Ew!” 
Cisca took note of her daughter's divided attention, taking an easy guess that she was hanging out with a few friends. “Hi sweetheart, am I calling at a bad time?” Even though neither could see each other, she had a warm and proud smile on her face just thinking about how far Y/n has come.
The innocent giggle down the phone grew quieter and quieter. Y/n was walking away from her friends. “Sorry mum, yeah I can talk. We were just having a games night in my dorm…” Ciscas heart just warmed, happy that her youngest child was growing up and maturing.
“Oh no worries, go and hang out with your friends! Have fun!” And with a couple goodbyes and a ‘I love you’ between the two, Y/n was back hanging out with her friends. 
-
Unlike her younger years of boarding, Y/n hadn’t been home from school on the weekend in a long while. She couldn’t; especially with her exams quickly approaching, she was in her dorm studying and revising most  weekends.
This meant the youngest Norris hadn’t seen her family in a few weeks. Of course she had spoken to them but hadn’t been home since the end of January, and they all understood why. It was harder for some to swallow that pill - well harder for one person particularly e.g Lando.
The Silverstone grand-prix was just around the corner and all he wanted was for his youngest sister to be there. Yeah it was selfish but he missed her, to be far the last time the two saw each other was early January. He missed her so much.
“Are you sure you can’t just take the exam early and then come and support me?” His rough voice rang through Y/n's phone whilst she was highlighting her revision. Lando wasn’t even trying to hide his annoyance.
A gentle laugh followed by a sigh was heard from Y/ns side of the call. “I’m sorry Lan…I can’t ask them to move the exam, it’s against the rules of the exam board…”
She didn’t have an exam that week actually, she was lying. Y/n was going to be in Silverstone that sunday. It’s just that Lando didn’t know, oh no it was a surprise.
What he thought was happening was that everyone else from his immediate family would be there, except Y/n. 
Everyone was in on the surprise. All excited to see the pair reunited. Surprises were always one of the things the Norris family loved to do.
-
Y/n - Good luck today! I’ll be juggling revision and watching the race, I hope to hear our national anthem pleaseee  Lando - Thank you angel, don’t wear yourself out Y/n - I should tell you the same thing
Lando thought she’d be tucked away in her dorm room whilst they were texting back and forth. A vast contrast to her current location; in the passenger seat of Oliver's car. The sun was shining through the windshield and down over her bare knees.
Y/n was wearing a white summer dress, some comfortable trainers and her signed mclaren 4 cap. Looking ready to spend the day in the British summer sun supporting one of her older brothers. 
She was smirking. He really had no clue about this. “Okay so he thinks I’m still at school, oh my god I can’t wait!” 
With her gcses, Y/n hadn’t been to a race in a long time and she missed it; watching from her dorm was not the same. In her dorm, she didn’t get that real excitement that would course through her like it would in the McLaren garage.
Looking over to Oliver, he was also smirking. Just remembering how he had to deal with Landos sulking and the clear signs that Y/n was by far his favorite. “Yeah he’s gonna be so happy when he sees you!”
-
Once they arrived, Y/n was quietly escorted through the back way to the McLaren garage. They couldn’t have the press ruining the surprise. Luckily for Y/n, her spot in the garage couldn’t be seen from anywhere Lando would be.
She stood between her parents whilst her other three siblings stood on either side Cisca and Adam. “I’m so excited!” When she was handed her headset, the girl got even more excited because she could hear her brother's voice through the radio. 
He had yet to win his first grand prix and she hoped he would get to that top step of the podium, especially at his home race. And hopefully without him knowing she is here, he will focus on that exact outcome. 
-
It was a hard race, lots of action and stress. Something Y/n liked, she hated a boring race - this sport was about racing, not riding cars in the same positions in several circles. But the most important thing to note from this race was the number four McLaren parked in front of the number one place in Parc Ferme.
The papaya garage was very much in celebrations, including the Norris family. Turning to face her mother with tears in her eyes, she noticed how Cisca also had tears in her eyes. “He did! He did!”
Adam, who is also over the moon with the win, takes her hand and starts to lead her over to the Parc Ferme to surprise the driver. Reaching the Parc Ferme they stand waiting amongst the McLaren staff and up against the barriers.
Lando pulls himself out of the car and makes his way to celebrate with his team. It’s only when he moves to give Adam a hug that he notices his little sister and he gasps. 
“Y/n?” He can’t believe his eyes, he thought she was back in her boarding school revising. 
Immediately the driver breaks from his father's embrace and races to collect Y/n in his arms. The two siblings were laughing and crying together. Finally reunited after a long time, in their opinions. 
After a few seconds, Lando moves to collect her face in his hand gently - trying to see if his eyes are deceiving him, they weren’t. “I thought you had an exam!” He shouts over the cheers around the two of them. 
Y/n just smirks cheekily and shakes her head. “Nope! Surprise!” Soon her smirk turns into a groan when Landos hand moves to mess up her hair, laughing breaking out between them once again. 
Everyone saw. The cameras around Parc Ferme all broadcasting the reuniting of two siblings who just missed each other. “You’re such a little shit!”
Shrugging her shoulders, Y/n smiled. “Everyone was in on it! Our family loves a surprise!” So when Lando turned to look at his father, Adam just nodded - Happy to reunite two of his children.
-
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