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f1goat · 5 months

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more than friends ; lando norris + part twelve

In which your best friend is going to help you to gain more sexual experience and say goodbye to your insecurities, but he's quick to discover that he never wants to share you and your new experiences with others - the only problem being, him having to confess his feelings.

masterlist - playlist

fem!y/n x lando norris

warnings: smut with a plot. minors dni! probably grammar or spelling errors due to english not being my first language.

requested: yes, based on this request: something with a driver sister that’s still a virgin & lando (her bestfriend) suggests to teach her things

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five / part six / part seven / part eight / part nine / part ten / part eleven

“Fuck.” Lando can’t hold back this time. The word leave his mouth before he can think about it. He wants to intervene, but he knows he can’t. If it was up to him, he would drag you away and fuck you until you can’t even spell Pierre anymore, but that’s not something he can do. At least, not anymore. He fucked it up.

Oscar sends him a pitiful look, but doesn’t say anything. His teammate knows that something has changed between Lando and you, but he doesn’t know what. Oscar wishes he knew, he feels like he needs to help the two of you before everything is broken. He keeps looking at Lando, waiting for him to snap and to say something, but nothing happens. All of Lando his focus is on you - and on Pierre who’s dancing with you.

Lando sighs. He wants to cry. If he thinks about what happened long enough, then maybe he’ll cry for real. He feels the gaze of Oscar his eyes burning on his back. Maybe he should talk with his teammate. Maybe Oscar can help? He doubts it, but there are no other options. Maybe Oscar is his last hope. When he turns himself to Oscar, the boy is already waiting for him to speak up.

“I think I lost her,” Lando stammers. He has never said words like this before, never have words felt this painful to say out loud, it breaks him down even further.

“What happened?” Oscar asks.

“I fucked it up,” Lando sighs.

+++

“Lan?” “Yeah?”

“I uh, I was wondering how this will continue between us?” You ask a bit careful, “I mean are we going to continue to have sex or are we going back to how things where? It feels like you’ve learned me quite a lot and I don’t know what will happen now, you know?” The words are coming out like a mess, you can only hope that Lando understands what you mean. Maybe this is your coward way of asking Lando if he wants to make things different.

Lando doesn’t know what to say. He realizes that this is the moment to come clean about his feelings for you, but he doesn’t. “Uh, we can continue like this?” He suggests at first.

“But what will happen then?” You ask, “How will it affect our friendship?”

“The same as now, right?” Lando doesn’t know where you’re going with the questions.

“But we can’t always stay friends who fuck, right?” You question. An annoyed feeling creeps up. Why doesn’t Lando understand your deeper meaning?

“There are plenty people who do so, it’s called friends with benefits,” Lando informs you. He almost slaps himself for telling it so casual, why isn’t he confessing about his feelings? Why can’t he find the right words and tell you?

“I know what that is,” you sigh, “but do you want that for us? What will happen if you meet another girl? Or if you’re done with me? I mean it feels like some sort of endless situation which will only slow us down at one point. What if our friendship gets in the way?”

Lando tries to follow all the questions, but he doesn’t know if every one of them actually got into his mind. It feels like it’s all too much. What are you saying? Why are you talking about him with another girl? Does that mean you want to search for a boyfriend yourself? In some weird way he convinces himself that it must mean that you want a boyfriend - someone else then him.

“You can just say so if you want a boyfriend and want to stop this with me,” he eventually snickers to you.

You show Lando a confused look. “That’s not what I’m saying?” You react surprised.

“No, but it is what you actually mean with your words, isn’t it?” Lando continues. He feels himself getting frustrated. Why did he even have hope that things would end different? Suddenly he’s glad that he didn’t confess his feelings, you would have turned him down anyway.

“Lan, that’s bullshit,” you reply a bit annoyed, “I’m just saying that this is an hopeless situation. I need some clearance.”

“Okay, here is your clarity,” Lando spits the words out, “We’re not fucking anymore, we’re just friends and you can find yourself some boyfriend to fuck with.” His voice gets louder with every word he says. What he doesn’t notice until it’s too late, is the way you look at him. Tears are rolling over your cheeks.

“If that’s what you want,” you softly mutter, “then that’s fine.”

Lando doesn’t think before he talks. He speaks up with only angry and frustrated feelings inside of him to do the thinking right now. “Apparently it’s what you want,” he states angrily.

“I uh, I need some time for myself,” you softly say, barely being able to hold back your cries. “I’ll see you later in the club.”

With those words you walk away from Lando. He watches you leave. It almost feels like some stupid movie scene. Lando watches how you walk away from him, dressed in a beautiful dress - that was already starring in his plans for when the two of you came back to the hotel room tonight. He feels a small tear rolling down on his cheek. Why did you leave? No, he can’t ask himself a question as stupid as that. You left because he accused you of the most stupid shit, just because he was too afraid to tell you about his feelings. Again. Fuck, he should have told you. He thinks about running after you, but when he opens the door he notices that you’re already gone.

He wonders how you’re going to the club, since you told him that you’d see him there. How are you going to get there in a strange country where you don’t know anyone expect a few drivers? Lando sighs. He starts to worry about you. Hurriedly he changes his outfit and makes himself ready to also head to the club. He needs to make things right.

+++

“Fuck man,” Oscar sighs, “That’s so fucking stupid.”

“I know,” Lando confesses, “I don’t know what I was thinking.. Fuck. How am I going to fix this?”

Oscar doesn’t respond at first. It gives Lando the time to take another look at you again. You’re still dancing with Pierre. The Alpine driver is almost pressed against your body, Lando feels himself getting angry. Why him? You have been with Pierre since Lando saw you again. The looks you send him when he tried to approach you said enough. You’re not in the mood to talk with him.

“Just confess mate,” Oscar eventually says, “You can’t make things worse right? Just explain everything to her.”

“But.”

“No buts,” Oscar interrupts, “just be honest with her.”

Lando sighs. He can’t look away from you. He notices the way Pierre moves his head to get closer to your neck so he can press his lips against it. Lando hopes his marks are still somewhere on your body. Fuck, that seems really territorial, but he can’t blame himself for thinking like this.

“Lando, go to her,” Oscar states again, “Staring and acting like some mad caveman won’t help you.”

He sees Pierre moving again. This time holding you closely in front of himself. It looks like he wants to kiss you. Is he going to try to kiss you? Fuck. Lando wants to do many things. Walk away and stop watching so he can’t see it happen or walking as fast as he can towards you and pull you away from Pierre. When he continues to watch, he notices that you finally seek eye contact with him. Then he notices your look. Are you asking him for help? It seems like you’re really uncomfortable. Or is he just imagining things to make this better for himself?

Lando stops thinking. He almost sprints towards you and Pierre, leaving Oscar by himself while doing so. When he’s standing in front of you, he still doesn’t think about his next movements. Lando grabs your wrist, pulls you towards himself and tries to walk away with you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You ask him.

“Mate fuck off,” Pierre sneers, “you’ve had your chance.”

“Lando, you can’t just drag me away from Pierre. It doesn’t work like that!” You yell annoyed. A small part in you hopes that Lando does drag you away from Pierre. After all, the only reason you’re dancing this close with Pierre is to cause a reaction by Lando. But you don’t know what will happen after.

“Watch me,” Lando grunts. Easily he lifts you up and puts you halfway on his shoulder. Holding you close he starts to walk away from Pierre. “Can’t just drag you away,” he mutters annoyed, “As if I’m going to look at him with my girl any longer.” He puts his hand on your ass, making sure no one can see anything from underneath your dress. The small gesture makes you smile.

When he passes Oscar, he notices the way his teammate is almost laughing out loud. “Fucking caveman,” Oscar is quick to tell him before Lando continues walking with you on his shoulder. “Just confess!” Oscar yells when Lando walks away from him.

You really don’t know what to think right now. Yes, you did want a reaction from Lando. Yes, you did want to annoy him until he would finally snap. But did you want it to end up like this? You don’t know if you’re honest. Not that you expected such a big reaction from Lando. He literally put you onto his shoulders to take you away with him. That seems a bit much, right? When Lando reaches his rental car, he opens the passenger door and puts you down on the ground again. It’s obvious that he wants you to take place in the car, but you don’t.

“Y/N,” Lando groans, “I swear to god, go sit in the fucking car.”

“Why?” You ask him.

“Because we’re going to talk.”

“We did talk,” you sigh, “and you made yourself perfectly clear. We’re not fucking anymore so I can find myself a boyfriend, since that’s what I want according to you.”

“Correction, I’m going to fuck away this terrible attitude of yours and then we’re going to talk.”

You don’t say anything. Maybe because this is kinda what you wanted? Who can blame you. Lando is fucking hot when he’s mad. Quietly you step in to the car.

The car ride is in an awkward silence. Lando his hand lays on your thigh. It feels like he’s marking you as his with the simple move, but you don’t know who he expects to reach since it’s just to two of you. His eyes are switching between you and the road. You’re also looking at him. At first you tried not to since you’re mad at him, but when you gave him a small look you couldn’t stop anymore.

The harsh conversation between the two of you isn’t longer then a couple hours ago, but you can see it’s impact on Lando. Or maybe it’s the impact from watching at Pierre and you? At first you never knew when Lando cried or how to spot the signs that he was about to. But after being his friend for so many years, you now know. Lando looks like a mess. Your mess.

It feels weird when you enter Lando and yours hotel room again. Both of you don’t know what to say. It makes you annoyed when Lando keeps pacing around and doesn’t say anything. And doesn’t fuck you.

“I thought you were going to do something?” You ask him, “Or do I need to get myself back to Pierre to get fucked?” You don’t know where you found those words and how they end up leaving your mouth, but at least Lando isn’t pacing around anymore.

He feels like he lost all of his sanity right now. Lando rushes towards you and harshly lifts you up again, only to throw you onto the bed. He turns you so you’re laying on your stomach and pulls you closer to himself. Within seconds your dress is pulled up and Lando his bottoms are hanging around his legs. He tugs on your thongs until they fall apart. Satisfied he looks at your snapped string.

Before you can say anything about it, Lando makes sure that your ass is lifted in the air. Without any sort of warning or foreplay he lets his dick enter you. It causes you to let out a loud scream, “Fuck Lando!” He doubts for a bit about himself and his actions, but when you follow that scream with multiple moans, his doubts are quick to disappear. He fucks you without thinking about being soft, nice or anything like that. It’s animalistic. He has lost all his patience and can only focus on fucking you as hard as he can manage.

“Fucking slut,” he grunts when he hears a loud moan from you.

“Your slut, sir,” you say softly. You almost don’t dare to say it. When you feel Lando his pace decreasing, you feel ashamed of your words.

“What did you just say?” Lando asks you. He’s barely fucking you anymore, rarely he moves his dick in and out of you. He needs to make sure that he heard you right.

“Your slut, sir,” you tell him again.

“Fuck,” Lando mutters, “Only mine?”

“Yes,” you agree with him.

“Not Pierre’s?” Lando continues to ask.

“No,” you quickly state, “Wanted you to snap.”

Lando lets out a low chuckle after hearing your words. You wanted him to snap? He doesn’t know what you mean with that, but he does know you just said that Pierre’s not even close to him. He pulls back a bit, letting his dick leave your body. It causes you to let out a soft whine. Lando turns you around and looks at you. You already look fucked out.

“Baby girl,” Lando mutters softly, “You’re the actual worst.” Lando stays silent for a couple seconds before speaking up again. “Should punish you for those actions,” he says.

“What’s stopping you?” You ask Lando.

“You,” Lando chuckles.

You show Lando a confused look. What does he mean with that? Lando takes place to you next on the bed. Softly he grabs your waist and pulls you on his lap. Careful he presses a few kisses against your neck and shoulders. He moves his hands on your body. Kneading your tits and softly pulling on your nipples. It causes you to let out multiple soft moans and whines. You want - no need, more of him.

“Lan,” you softly speak up.

“I know, I know,” Lando replies, “but be patient baby.”

“Aren’t you mad anymore?” You ask confused. You still don’t get why Lando is all calmed down after your confession of using Pierre to make him snap. Could it be that he feels more calm now he knows that you only think about him?

“What did you mean with making me snap?” Lando asks you.

“What you just did,” you explain, “fucking me like you own me. Snapping at Pierre and me, dragging me away only to show me and everyone else that you think I belong to you. Showing how you actually feel. Just waiting for you to tell me.”

You know you’re passing the safe way back now. With everything you just said, Lando can probably fill in the blanks himself. It should be pretty obvious now how you feel about him. You can only hope that you got Lando his feelings right as well. You’re putting a lot of fate in Oscar right now. In the mean time you move yourself, getting off Lando his lap and taking a seat next to him on the bed.

After your earlier discussion with Lando, you left and got to Oscar his hotel room. Together with him you made up this plan. Oscar was sure that only a bit of dancing with Pierre would make Lando snap within minutes. It took a bit longer, but eventually Oscar was right. Now he only has to be right about Lando his feelings for you…

“You want that?” Lando asks you confused.

You only show him a small nod.

“You really wanted me to act like this?” Lando continues to ask, he still can’t believe it. When you nod again, Lando doesn’t stop with his questions. “You actually wanted me to act like some sort of jealous caveman?”

“I didn’t expect you to put me onto your shoulder,” you confess, “but I wanted you to show me that I belong to you.”

“Why?” Lando asks confused, “I really don’t get it babygirl. Like, I don’t even understand why I’m acting like this and I actually feel ashamed for it - but you, you like it? You want this?”

“It gives me hope,” you tell Lando.

“Hope?” He asks confused.

“Hope that you like me back.”

Lando doesn’t know if he hears you correct. Did you actually say that it gives you the hope that he likes you back? Likes you back? That means that you like him, right? Lando really can’t wrap his head around everything that’s happening right now. He thought you would be mad at him. Mad for the way he acted earlier today and for what he said. Mad for the way he acted in the club. But you are glad that he acted this way and you’re telling him that you like him? Is this even real? Isn’t he still standing in the club, looking at Pierre dancing with you and imagining this to make it feel better? He can’t even help himself and softly pinches some skin on his arm.

“I’ve said too much,” you say when Lando keeps quiet, “The hint is clear Lan. Sorry for the way I acted. Sorry for falling for you, I hope we still can be friends?”

Just when Lando thought he was finally processing everything you just said, you’re saying stuff like this. He thinks about telling you how much he likes you too, but eventually he lets his actions speak for himself. Softly he grabs your shoulders and pulls you back on his lap again. This time you’re turned the way he can properly face you. Lando softly puts his finger underneath your chin and lifts your face up a bit. Then he presses his lips against yours. He kisses you the most loving way he can.

When Lando puts his lips onto yours, you wonder if this means what you think it does. Is this Lando his way of showing you that he does like you back?

You show Lando a small grin when he pulls back and looks at you. “I never want to be friends with you again,” Lando mutters with a cheeky smile. If he wasn’t smiling like crazy, you would have stressed right now. “I really need you to be my girlfriend babygirl,” Lando continues, “and I really need everyone to know that you’re mine so they will finally stop flirting with you.”

“You want me to be your girlfriend?” You ask Lando with a happy expression.

“I need you to be my girlfriend,” he states.

“Okay boyfriend,” you reply.

“But now I really want to feel your cunt around my dick again,” Lando tells you cheekily. You let out a soft laugh. You position yourself a bit different, then you line up Lando his boner with your entrance and slowly let him enter you again.

+++

The following morning Lando patiently waits for you to wake up as well. He hasn’t slept as good as last night in a couple months. He feels ten times better then before. It’s mostly a relieved feeling now that the two of you finally confessed. When you open your eyes slowly, you notice that Lando is already awake and staring at you.

“Good morning girlfriend,” Lando whispers when you look at him.

You show him a small smile. “Good morning boyfriend,” you reply.

Lando presses a soft kiss against your lips. “I can get used to this,” he tells you.

“You better do,” you laugh, “It’s not like I’m going to let go of you anytime soon.”

“I love you,” Lando sighs relieved. “Oh that’s probably a bit soon to say,” he adds quickly after realizing what he just said.

“I love you too Lan,” you tell him, “and I think you could have said it way sooner.”

Lando grins. He pulls you close towards himself and hugs you. “I could fall asleep all over again, but we have a flight to catch.”

Later that afternoon when the two of you are sitting in the plane, Lando has been quite busy on his phone. You look curious at him, wondering what he’s doing. Before you can ask him, Lando speaks up. “I’m going to hard launch us,” he states, “Okay?”.

“Okay.”

a/n;

that was it everyoneee :') hope y'all liked this story

i do want to write further, but for this moment i have no inspiration about what i'm going to write now (expect that it's about lando ofc). so any idea is welcome ! thanks for all the likes, comments & reblogs

taglist: @booksandplushies @dinodumbass @formula1mount @words-are-cheap @allywthsr @inejghafawifesblog @chonkybonky @formulas-bitch @harrysdimple05 @vildetry06 @wherethefuckisthething @nonameishere @lauralarsen@meadhbhcavanagh @obliviatevamps @shy4turcs @fix5idiots @nightlockcornucopia @marialovesf1 @kapsylia @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @lanando4 @lauralarsen @leclercdream @agentadhd @rewmuslupin @allsouls-emma @iamshiningeuw @teenagedreams-cl@kiskso @loxbbg @vellicora @thomaslefteyebrow @avg-golden-retriever @amorydsmt @killjoynotes@barelytolerabled @starmanv @changetyre @kami10471633 @2bormaybenot @httpmrklee @buendiabebeta @aliceespector@ryiamarie @mickslover @sop-hie092 @miniemonie2001 @greymarvelskaikru @kapsylia@swiftiedrafts @thatchickwiththecamera @formulas-bitch @venisvendetta @t3a-3njoy3r @landowecanbewc

taglist p2: @chezmardybum @booksandflowrs @mineandneveryours @strawberryy-kiwii @noneofyourfbusinessworld @secretgal66 @trinity2058 @evieepepi08 @shutupmymomsc4lling @smiithys @nanamilkbread @hellowgoodbye @annie115 @random-1927 @sadmeal444 @christianpulisic10 @peachiicherries @toppersjeep @lovingaphroditesworld @kiskso @silentreader128 @lauralarsen @scopeiguess @trinity2058 @shy4turcs @moonlight-girls-posts @xjval @saachiep81 @leclercdream @adalynneva @swiftiedrafts @oscahpastry @customsbyjcg-blog @idontcare011 @f1fantasys @emyladia @f1fantasys @oscahpastry @chrissiekitty19-blog

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fanfiction #ln4 #lando norris imagine #formula one #f1 #lando norris imagines #lando norris smut

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coco-loco-nut · 5 months

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Revelations - part 2

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Summary: bringing the kids to a gp

A/n: whoooo double drop day! Enjoy!!!!

requests open masterlist part one

——————————————

“You know the drill, stay with me or your dad,” you remind your son and daughter as Daniel parks. Oscar immediately came to visit your home when you got back to Australia, wanting to catch up on the hidden parts of his fellow Aussies lives. The exchange? Free babysitting.

Daniel is such a girl dad, it almost pains you that your daughter likes him more than you, but your son is a mama’s boy so it balances out.

“Florence, keep a tight hold of me,” Daniel says, carrying the four year old on his him. She dozes on his shoulder halfway to the paddock entrance. Your son, Sidney, had a tight grip of your hand. You decided to get here early, before media, so there was a less stressful entrance. Even the video that Red Bull posts of Daniel walking through the paddock blurs out your children’s faces.

“Uncle Maxie,” your daughter stretches her arms out to the Dutchman. He carefully takes her and walks off, chatting away. If it were anyone but Max, you might be concerned.

“Hi Uncle Christian,” Sidney greets his godfather excitedly, the older man equally happy to see his godson. Christian gives you and Daniel the go ahead to walk away and grab breakfast at Hospitality.

“Will you be okay watching them the whole race while being my engineer?” Daniel asks as you both pick at your plates.

“Kelly is going to keep an eye on them, they will be with her in the garage. I think your Mom is coming in for the race tomorrow,” you tell Daniel. You decided to test out their F1 tolerance during FP3 and Qualis instead of just the race.

They do well enough that you feel comfortable with having them in the garage for the race. You do your race engineer work from the garage instead of the pit wall, preferring to be closer with the mechanics and other engineers. Halfway through the race, your mother-in-law carefully hands you a fussy and tired Florence. You let her sit on your lap as you work, holding her close, something that F1TV caught. She notices you talking to her father.

Daniel, overtake is available at the next DRS

Copy, DRS is enabled

Nice overtake, continue to defend. Daddy?

Is that Flo? Tell her I said hi and to let you work.

Copy, focus on your race, please.

Florence is happy to know her dad heard her and quickly falls asleep on your shoulder.

Daniel, box, fresh set of hards are ready for you.

Copy. How are the kids?

Flo is sleeping and Sid is watching with P. Please focus on the race, Danny. Box, box.

Alright Mrs Ricciardo, I see how it is, all business no fun

Someone has to keep you focused, Daniel.

You honestly don’t know how no one had picked up on Daniel’s radio messages to you before your relationship was revealed. He does focus on the race, it’s his job, but every once in a while he does make comments that aren’t racing related. As the last few laps are underway, Florence wakes up from her nap. You point out her dad on one of the screens and decide to surprise him by letting her talk to him.

“Okay Flo, just like I told you,” you gently remove the headphones covering her ears and put the far too big headset on her. Christian is the one who suggested that you do that.

Great race Daddy, P5

Hi Baby Girl, did you help your mama out this race?

I did, just like you told me to.

Good job, I’m so proud of you. Now, let me talk to your mama, she has some special things to tell me. I’ll see you soon sweetheart.

Hey Daniel, great race. Team’s proud of you. Pull in for weigh ins and media. We will have a quick debrief but we are happy with the race.

Copy. Couldn’t have done it without you and the team. Thanks guys.

Kelly and Daniel’s mom entertain the kids while you and Daniel have post-race meetings, but when you get to his drivers room after your last meeting with the engineers, you find him passed out on the couch with your kids sleeping on him. You snap a picture, sending it to one of your Red Bull group chats as well as directly to Max and Oscar.

Social media was loving the radio clips of you and Daniel talking, as well as Florence congratulating her father. Pair that with the videos of her sleeping on your shoulder mid race and every other clip of you and Daniel with the kids, it’s no wonder why your family is trending.

“Dan,” you whisper, gently shaking your husband’s shoulder.

“Hm? Have I been asleep long?” He whispers, trying not to disturb the kids.

“Probably not. Let’s get back to the hotel,” you smile softly, gently picking up Florence so he can get up. He carries Sidney, who is still asleep, while you carry Florence. Thankfully for the both of you, you were ready to leave.

“No more races for them until they are older,” Daniel proposes.

“Unless it’s here, I think I will agree to that,” you nod, brushing hair off of Florence’s head. You realistically know Daniel only has a couple seasons left in him, and that Florence wants to race just like her dad, so it might be better to wait until one of you is available to be with them the whole time. Sidney stirs as you get closer to your car.

“That was fun, when are we going again?”

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagines #daniel ricciardo imagine

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katsu28 · 2 months

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i saw requests were open and i simply could not resist

holding both their hands while holding their gaze gently, just before leaning in for a kiss + oscar maybe? honestly whoever you want to write it with, i’ll be happy!!!

you’re the best, love you, hope you’re having the most beautiful day ever💛💛

marissa babe i love you loads, thank you so much for this request <3 i've melted into a puddle writing this i kid you not

oscar piastri x reader, 1.8k. request something from here!

You’ve gone back and forth between canceling your date three times in the past two hours now.

You should be showering, getting ready, finding a cute outfit, but instead you’re pacing a hole in the floor of your room, staring at your phone on your desk.

You’ve been going out with the sweetest guy, Oscar, for a bit, and you like to think things are going well. He’s so kind and so cute, and you still can’t quite wrap your mind around the fact that he likes you enough to have gone on five dates with you.

But for some reason, he makes you so unbelievably nervous. You feel like a bumbling fool around him whenever you’re together, tripping over your words, laughing a little too hard for a little too long at something that probably wasn’t even that funny, but you can’t help it. When Oscar is around, it’s like some little person in your brain wrenches away control from any rational thinking and just goes crazy.

The worst part is, you don’t even know why. He’s just your type, he makes you feel like you’ve known him for much longer than you have, and you thought that would put you at ease.

You’ve never felt this way with any other person before. Maybe that’s why you’re acting this way. This thing you have with Oscar is special, however new it is, and you’re afraid of fucking it up. You haven’t even kissed yet, but you’re afraid of fucking that up too.

At that moment, your phone buzzes with a text from none other than Oscar himself.

Oscar: Can’t wait to see you tonight. Miss you :-)

You’ve only gone four days without seeing each other and he misses you enough to tell you so. Fuck, he’s adorable.

You have to go now, because the moment you finish reading his message you’re grinning like an idiot, giggling alone in your room at an eight word message and a stupidly endearing smiley face.

Unfortunately, your nerves and anxieties have come to bite you on the ass. Now you’ve only got a little more than an hour to do everything you should’ve been doing to get ready for dinner instead of sitting around being indecisive.

How you manage to get ready and out the door on time is a miracle, and before you know it you’re in an Uber on your way to meet Oscar. The driver is a kindly older man, rather talkative, which normally you weren’t very fond of, but his stories about his grandkids do wonders at providing a distraction from your thoughts.

You almost forget you’re on your way to meet Oscar until you get out of the car and spot him across the street, slouched against the wall of the restaurant scrolling on his phone.

He looks devastatingly handsome in a simple black t-shirt and jeans, both of which fit him fantastically, if you say so yourself, hair fluffed to perfection even though you know for a fact he probably hadn’t done a thing to it.

As if he senses you’ve arrived, he glances up, beaming brightly at the sight of you. He raises his hand in a wave, pocketing his phone immediately and coming to meet you at the other edge of the sidewalk.

“Hey, stranger. Long time no see,” He says warmly, effortlessly folding you into a hug. You let yourself melt a little bit in his embrace, cheek pressed to his firm chest. “You look really pretty.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” You reply. He smiles bashfully, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Shall we?” He offers out the crook of his elbow and you loop your arm through his, happy to follow his lead into the restaurant.

Dinner goes well, all things considered. You’re frustratingly aware of how Oscar makes you feel the entire time, but you think you’re playing it off fairly well.

Or at least, if Oscar does notice, he doesn’t say anything. He’s absolutely perfect the whole time, polite and engaged with your stories, and funny in that dry sort of way of his that you’ve come to like.

You insist on splitting the bill once it comes and he doesn’t waste time by fighting you for the check like a lot of guys always seem to do, but he does call dibs on paying for ice cream at a place down the road he’d spotted on his way in, which you agree to.

He slides his hand into yours almost shyly at the start of the walk over, peering over at you through that one swooping curl of his that never seemed to stay put, as if to ask if it was okay he was holding your hand.

Your relationship (if you could even call it one at this early stage) is still new to the point where both of you aren’t quite sure what’s okay and when. Your response is to simply lace your fingers through his and squeeze.

You quite like holding his hand, even if it does make you worry about if yours is too sweaty.

Oscar opts for double chocolate chunk as his scoop of choice, which surprises you a little bit. You thought he would’ve gone for vanilla, but he always finds new ways to surprise you. He even pokes fun at your choice in flavor, bumping his shoulder against yours with that big smile that makes your heart dance in your chest.

You find a nice place to sit and eat your ice cream on a bench in a cute little park across the way, and everything is going swimmingly, but then he asks.

“This might be a stupid question, but are you alright?”

You nearly choke on your ice cream at his words. You’ve learned that Oscar is usually pretty blunt, but you’re still trying to get used to it. “Am I—what?”

“Are you okay? You seem…different. Was dinner alright? I’ve never been there before, but one of my mates keeps going on and on about it so I thought—”

So he had noticed. You shake your head firmly, placing a hand over Oscar’s. “Dinner was lovely.”

“Ah. Okay. Is it something else then?” To his credit, he looks genuinely concerned that something’s wrong, even with ice cream smudged at the edge of his mouth. You have to fight the urge to wipe it away for him. “You don’t have to tell me, but you can if you want to. I’m a good listener.”

You could tell him. It would benefit you to tell him, but for some reason, you hesitate.

How are you to tell Oscar that he makes you feel like you're not yourself when he's around? That you get so nervous in his presence that you always feel like you're doing or saying the wrong thing?

That every time he holds your hand or touches your cheek or texts you silly updates about his failed attempts at keeping a plant alive, you have to fight the urge to scream because you like him so much it scares you and you're afraid you’ll chase him away if you let him in on it.

How do you tell someone all that without sounding completely and totally mental?

You’ve only been on five dates, for fuck’s sake. For all you know, he could be planning on telling you it just won't work out between the two of you as soon as you get home tonight. You know he wouldn't do that because he's way too nice, but it doesn't stop you from jumping to conclusions.

You must take longer than you think to respond, because Oscar says your name again. He’s fully facing you now, one hand on your knee when you come back down from your thoughts, brows furrowed.

“I like you.” You blurt.

He blinks a few times, then smiles. “Well, that's good, ‘cause I like you too.”

“No, Oscar, I—” You pause a beat, trying to gather your thoughts into something more coherent. “I really like you. Like, so much that I feel like I’m messing everything up.”

“You could never mess anything up,” Oscar says fondly. So, so fondly. Your heart feels like it's about to leap out of your chest at his sincerity. “I really like you too. It’s a little scary, actually.”

“Oh, thank god. I thought it was just me,” You breathe, shoulders sagging in relief.

“That’s it, though?” He prods, cocking his head to the side curiously.

“Uh…yes? I’m sorry, were you expecting more?”

“No, no, of course not. I just—I thought maybe you were acting differently because you didn’t like me anymore. Got tired of me, or something like that,” He admits sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck.

His shoulders hunch in on themselves, brows knit in something akin to embarrassment as he stares off at something in the distance. “It sounds stupid now that I hear it out loud, actually. Forget I said anything.”

“Oscar,” You hum, just as soft as the way he’d reassured you moments earlier. His eyes shift over to meet yours, rich, warm brown like fresh coffee looking wide eyed back at you. You ease the nearly half empty paper cup out of his grip, taking both his hands in your own. You don’t miss the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard.

“Hm?” He sounds flustered, gaze flicking down to your lips momentarily before coming back up. It’s only a split second, but you know what it means.

He wants you to kiss him. You want to kiss him. You haven’t yet because you’ve been scared, but you don’t feel scared anymore. You’re not at all sure where this sudden burst of confidence is coming from, but you’re sure as hell not about to let it go to waste, so you lean forward, pressing your lips against his gently.

It’s like he’s been waiting for this moment, because as soon as your mouth is on his, he sighs, tilting his head accordingly so your noses won’t smash together. You can taste the chocolate from his ice cream on his lips as they move against yours, and it’s not a perfect kiss by any means, but Oscar’s kissing you back, so it feels pretty perfect to you. You’re rather sad when you have to pull away, but air remains a necessity.

Oscar’s eyes flutter open slowly. “That was…”

“Nice?” You supply hopefully.

Oscar bobs his head quickly, agreeing wholeheartedly. “Really nice. We should do it again. Can I…?” Now it’s your turn to nod, and he wastes no time in kissing you again, maybe a little too excitedly, because he knocks both your ice creams off the bench and onto the ground with a sad splat. He pulls away just enough to look at the splatter of melted dessert already starting to seep into the cobblestones under your feet. “Oh. Crap, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Forget the ice cream,” You mumble, already chasing him for more. You reach around to tangle your fingers up and into the hair at the nape of his neck as a means of pulling him closer.

Oh, this newfound confidence is really working out for you.

He lets out a hitched exhale, swallowing hard again. “Yeah, yep. Forgetting the ice cream.”

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#requested!#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #op81 x reader #oscar piastri x fem!reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri one shot

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disneyprincemuke · 7 months

Text

i got the best friends * fem!driver

they have a birthday tradition that stemmed from her efforts to make sure that they were homesick spending their birthdays so far from home

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver, oscar piastri x fem!driver

notes: hi i have another update are you ready are you ready bc i am not

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

-> april 6 2023

the bed dips, oscar groaning as he nuzzles his face into his pillow. “no.”

“yes!” a shriek fills his once silent room as the other side of the bed dips once more. “happy birthday, oscar jack piastri!”

he groans, “not the full name!”

“oh, good morning, you guys,” he hears lily say, feeling her starting to pull the blankets off her body. “oh, pancakes! if oscar doesn’t want them, can i have them?”

“i made you your own pancakes!”

“how is that supposed to make me feel special on my birthday?” oscar finally sits up, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the sight of his best friends kneeling between his and lily’s body. “why does she get pancakes too?”

the girl, facing him slightly blinks at him blankly. “because i made the pancakes.”

oscar tilts his head, moving his focus to logan who’s also holding a plate of pancakes. logan shakes his head, “i made them — she forced me to make another batch for lily.”

“okay, enough yapping,” the girl waves them off.

on her plate is a stack of 3 pancakes with a lit orange candle stuck on the top. it’s a yearly tradition that started when he turned 14, oscar waking up to pancakes on the morning of his birthday spent in her household.

she had made an attempt at cooking pancakes only once in her life: the morning of oscar’s 14th birthday in 2015, claiming that she didn’t want him to feel homesick spending the day with a family he’s not even related to. it wasn’t a good attempt because logan took over the minute she got eggshells in the batter they were making together.

they ate pancakes that morning before they left to spend the day outside to celebrate oscar’s birthday.

and it’s been a tradition ever since for anybody’s birthday.

“happy birthday, osc!” she grins, holding the plate towards him. “make a wish.”

he takes a deep breath, catching lily’s stare as she sits next to the girl on the bed, then he blows away on the flame. “what are we doing today?”

logan shrugs, taking a spot next to lily on the bed with his plate of pancakes to distribute to everyone else. “she suggested karting at this track nearby.”

“or,” she points out, reaching out to logan’s plate to get herself a pancake, “i reckon we can stay home and watch movies and play mario kart.” she turns to oscar with her lips pressed together. “unless you made plans with lily.”

lily perks up and shakes her head. “god, no! we didn’t make plans!”

“wow,” logan mutters, turning to look at oscar. “can you believe her?”

“no, it’s not like that, of course!” lily shrieks, cheeks flushing as she waves her hands in the air to dismiss logan’s accusations. “i just know that you guys like spending the day together on your birthdays. besides, we celebrated yesterday.”

oscar hums, nodding his head as he starts to devour his own set of pancakes. “yeah, we’ve been doing that for years so that you don’t interrupt us doing couple stuff.”

“maybe oscar’s the one who hates us, dude,” logan mutters, looking down momentarily to sell his emotions. “i wouldn’t be shocked if that were the truth.”

the girl plops herself at the foot of the bed, sighing loudly. “what do you suppose we should do today, birthday kid?”

-> december 1 2023

she feels her body being shaken, slowly pulling her out of her sleep. she lifts her head from her pillow slightly and takes a peek with one eye open. “logan? what time is it?”

“midnight,” logan whispers, his face slightly illuminated by the flame from the small candle in his hands. “oscar and lily are dead asleep right now.”

“i would hope so,” she whispers, moving slightly to sit up properly. “it’s midnight — you made pancakes at midnight?”

he shakes his head, moving slightly and holding something out to her. “i got you a cupcake. oscar and lily said they’d make the pancakes as per usual tomorrow morning.”

she tilts her head. “why–”

“could you make a wish and blow the candle out first before you have to eat a cupcake with candle wax as a topping?” logan rambles, watching the candle intensely.

for some reason, they don’t own a lighter in their apartment, so he had to venture back to the kitchen stove for a fire source to get the candle lit and walk back to her bedroom. waking her up was the hardest part — she jumps up when woken up abruptly and seeing that he’s holding a cupcake with a flame on it, that wasn’t the best outcome.

she nods hurriedly, leaning forward to blow the candle out in a swift motion. the flame is extinguished and leaves them in the dark and silence of her bedroom. she reaches over to her bedside table, turning on her lamp to finally catch a look at logan’s flushed cheeks and droopy eyes from his tiredness.

“so what’s the cupcake for again?” she whispers, moving up and patting the empty spot on the other side of her bed. she takes the cupcake into her hands when logan crawls over to the empty spot. “thank you though.”

logan shrugs, tucking himself under her blankets with her. “felt like you needed an extra cupcake for your 21st birthday.” he puts his hands on his lap and turns to her with a grin. “happy birthday — you’re officially an adult everywhere now.”

she grins, “thank you.”

-> december 31 2023

“happy new year’s eve!” she throws her hands in the air, hair up in a ponytail as she approaches logan.

logan perks up, walking away from his once fruitful conversation with his brother. he throws his arms around her smaller frame, tightening his arms around her. “you made it!”

“of course,” she snorts, pulling away and taking a step back. “and, duh, it’s my best friend’s birthday!”

typically, she spends new year’s eve back in europe with her family. but she’s got team commitments in new york right as the year starts and it was easier — and cheaper — to travel from miami than it was to come straight from home.

“pancakes?”

“i made them!” she grins as logan slings an arm around her shoulders, walking towards the building. “i set them in the room your mother brought me to, though. you don’t mind if i pull you away from the party for a while, right?”

“i’m sure dalton doesn’t mind.”

“oh, my gosh! i forgot to say hi to dalton!”

she tries to spin out of his arms, but the younger brother of the two only reels her back into their walk towards the house. “you can say hi later. it’s my birthday, remember? birthday pancakes first.”

“right.”

they spend the walk up to the spare guest bedroom talking and giggling over the happenings of her flight to miami. surprisingly, it had gone well; well enough for her to be convinced that flying alone isn’t too bad of an ordeal.

she opens the door to the bedroom logan’s mother had prepared for her, neatly prepped and carefully catered to the younger girl. on the table in one corner of the bedroom is the pancakes that she promised with a candle lying stray on the table with a lighter next to it.

“wait, did you say you made this?” logan hums, lifting an eyebrow. “is it safe to eat?”

“so i didn’t make it,” she sighs, rolling her eyes. “i didn’t have the time and you’ve said multiple times that pancakes aren’t as good when they’re cold. i bought them before i drove down here to your parents’ house.”

logan puts a hand over his chest. “aw, how sweet! you went out of your way for me?”

she lights up the candle and pokes it into the top pancake. “don’t act surprised. we’ve done this for one another forever.” she turns around and grins as logan approaches her slowly, lifting the plate. “happy birthday, logan.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgificrecs @localwhoore @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @louvrepool @inejismywife @love4lando

#logan sargeant x reader #oscar piastri x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 grid x reader #f1 female driver #formula one x reader #fem!driver #f1 fem!driver #female driver #disneyprincemuke vr #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke f1 #vettel reincarnate

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ssprayberrythings · 9 months

Text

home is a person | OP81

oscar piastri x student!female reader / smau fic

fc: maude apatow

pov: you’re a student studying abroad in australia and during this time there, you realize home isn’t always a place but rather a person. in your case you find your home with mclaren's f1 driver, oscar piastri.

warnings: mention of alcohol (beer bong too), other than that just emotional fluff !!

i already have plans for a part two but please let me know your thoughts !!!

yourusername posted on their story

📍melbourne, australia

caption: i’ll miss my child while im travelling

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summer adventures 🔆

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friend1: youre so cute

friend2: y/n we miss you

╰ yourusername: i’ll be back soon. i promise

yourmom: my sunshine child

╰ liked by yourusername

yourbestfriend posted on their story

📍sydney, australia

caption: haven’t seen her in weeks and she brings a book to our lunch ☹️

╰ yourusername: i was only reading it until you got to the restaurant

friend2 posted on their story

📍melbourne, australia

caption: don’t be fooled, she’s actually happy to be home

╰ yourusername: sure, whatever you say

You loved all your friends but you had only been back in Melbourne for not even 48 hours and they were already dragging you to a BBQ party when all you wanted was to be in your apartment curled up with your cat, Timmy while reading a book.

“I promise if within an hour you really aren’t enjoying yourself, you are more than welcome to leave. I’ll even promise to order the uber” your friend told you “Deal” you agreed. You enjoyed your parties but you also enjoyed some peace and quiet, right now you wanted the latter.

You arrived at the party and made your way to the backyard with your friend. You had brought a pack of coolers with you, being raised never to show up empty handed to someones house. “I’m gonna go put these with the rest of the alcohol, Im sure I’ll see you around” you told the friend you had arrived with and then set off to find the alcohol table, mostly to put the coolers down but to also get yourself a drink, you needed one if you were planning on seeing this through.

You found the booze table and put the coolers down, then scanned what other alcohol they had. You opted for making a vodka, lemonade. Once you had a red solo cup in your cup, another friend of yours passed by and asked if you wanted to come play beer pong. You just shrugged and said “sure”, you didn’t mind a good game every once and awhile.

When the two of you got to the beer pong table, two boys stood at the one end. You had to admit they were both good looking, however the blonde one had caught your eye. “Is it us against you two or how are we doing this?” your friend asked, both boys shared a look “We can split up” the brunette boy suggested “I’ll be your partner” he added referring to your friend

“Are you okay with that?” your friend asked turning to you “Fine by me” you said as you walked to the other end of the table where the blonde boy stood “Just don’t be mad when we beat you” you added looking at your friend chuckling slightly “Oh you're on” she laughed.

“I’m Oscar” the blonde boy introduced himself “I’m Y/N” you offered him a smile, he seemed familiar but you couldn’t tell from where “Are you good at this?” you asked taking a sip of your drink while your friend and his friend introduced themselves to each other “Eh I’m decent” he answered your question, laughing slightly “We can win with decent” you joked making him laugh again.

One game of beer pong later, you and Oscar had won against your friend and his friend “Yes!” you exclaimed as the last ball went in, indicating you had won “Good job” Oscar told you holding his hand up for a high five which you gladly gave to him “We make a good team” you said as a small blush appeared on his face “We do” Oscar agreed with you.

From that point on, the two of you spent the rest of the party together getting to know each other, playing a few more games of beer pong, dancing a bit, overall having a great time together.

When the night was coming to a close and you were walking to meet your friend to go home, Oscar was right by your side “Is there any way I could get your number?” he asked scratching the back of his neck “Yeah but under one condition” you started “You have to take me on a date” he blushed but chuckled “I can definitely do that”.

Once your numbers were exchanged and you shared a quick hug goodbye, you were in your uber with your friend “Aren’t you glad I made you come” she smirked looking at you, you just rolled your eyes. The both of you knowing she was right but there was no need to say it aloud.

yourusername posted on their story

📍melbourne, australia

caption: planned or candid? guess we’ll never know 🤭

╰ yourbestfriend: MISS Y/N WHO TOOK THIS

╰ yourusername: i’ll tell you after the date

╰ yourbestfriend: DATE!!! FACETIME ME WHEN YOU GET HOME, I NEED ALL THE DETAILS !!

more replies…

╰ friend1: happy to see oscar took you somewhere nice

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📍australia

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perks of being home 📸🐨��

tagged: oscarpiastri

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yourbestfriend: THIS IS HIM

╰ yourusername: 🤦🏻‍♀️

oscarpiastri: cant tell whose cuter; the koala bear or the person who took the picture of the koala bear

╰ yourusername: i vote the koala bear

╰ oscarpiastri: i have to disagree ;)

╰ yourusername: guess we can agree to disagree ;)

oscarpiastri posted on their instagram

📍melbourne, australia

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im definitely enjoying this time off from racing

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yourusername: still never getting over how you casually said you were an f1 driver

╰ oscarpiastri: 🤷🏼‍♂️

landonorris: now i know why you’ve been taking forever to answer my texts

╰ oscarpiastri: i’ve had other things to do

piastrixnorris: WAIT DOES OSCAR HAVE A GF !?

f1fan_: OSCAR PIASTRI, ARE YOU A TAKEN MAN ??

wagupdates_: we’ll solve the mystery. its our duty 😎

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limit of happiness exceeded 🧡

tagged: oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri: my happy place

╰ yourusername: 🥰🥹😘

oscarpiastri: timmy my adopted son

╰ yourusername: he loves you, maybe more than me

╰ oscarpiastri: that was my goal this whole time 😏

friend1: i’m taking a nap on the freeway tonight

╰ friend2: im joining you

yourbestfriend: he still needs the best friend stamp of approval

╰ yourusername: we’ll come to sydney before his break is over, i promise

╰ liked by yourbestfriend

oscarpiastri posted on their instagram

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my happy place is next to you

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f1fan: AWE

user4: THEY’RE DEF DATING

user81: SHES SO PRETTY

piastripastry: OSCAR UR GF IS STUNNING FR

╰ liked by oscarpiastri

wagupdates_: GUESS WE HAVE A NEW WAG ADDED TO THE LIST

yourusername: thats so funny, my happy place is next to you, what are the chances

╰ oscarpiastri: no way, we must be made for each other or something 😉

╰ yourusername: seems that way 😏

user20: im silently sobbing at their comments to each other

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for anyone wondering: f1 drivers make the best bfs

tagged: oscarpiastri

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yourbestfriend: he gets the best friend stamp of approval now

╰ yourusername: YAY

oscarpiastri: girls named y/n make the best gfs

╰ yourusername: ur so cheesy, keep it going

╰ oscarpiastri: for you, anything

friend1: does he have any single f1 friends ???

╰ yourusername: let me get back to you on that

╰ friend2: i’m wondering this too

╰ yourusername: 😅

oscarpiastri posted on their story

caption: my adopted son timmy & his mother 👨‍👩‍👦 @yourusername

╰ yourusername: we love you 😘

more replies:

╰ user12: ok cuteness overload

╰ user14: this is too cute

╰ user2: oscar you're killing us

yourbestfriend posted on their story

caption: cuties @yourusername @oscarpiastri

╰ yourusername: oh my..you’re the worst

╰ yourbestfriend: you love me though

oscarpiastri posted on their story

📍 sydney, australia

caption: boat days ⛵️ @yourusername

╰ yourusername: ❤️

yourusername posted on their instagram

📍 sydney, australia

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i’ve become one with the sea 🩵

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yourbestfriend: today was so fun! the four of us need to hangout together more !

╰ liked by yourusername & oscarpiastri

friend1: youre the cutest

╰ yourusername: 🥰

oscarpiastri: i wonder who took these photos of you 🤔

╰ yourusername: some australian man who tagged along with us🤷🏻‍♀️

╰ oscarpiastri: hmm..hes a good photographer

╰ yourusername: hes alright..;)

Things between you and Oscar had been going so smoothly. Obviously he had to get back to racing pretty soon which was why you were making the most with the time you had, not that either of you minded spending pretty much everyday together.

Right now you were sitting on your balcony, enjoying the morning breeze, while Oscar was still sleeping. He had spent the night because yesterday you had gone to Sydney for a boat day with your best friend and her boyfriend and by the time you got back, it was pretty late.

You didn’t want Oscar driving back to his place so you offered for him to stay which he gladly accepted and you were able to fall asleep cuddled up together.

Your cat was curled up in your lap while you read a book. You were so engaged with your book, you didn’t notice Oscar walking out of your room and coming into the kitchen, seeing you on the balcony. He didn’t want to startle you so he walked over to the door, tapping on the side to get your attention before speaking

“Morning” he smiled at you “Morning, did you sleep well?” you asked as you put your bookmark in your book and shut it. He nodded while a yawn escaped his lips “Do you want a coffee? or I can make us breakfast” you suggested as you picked your cat up and got up walking to the door.

Oscar moved to the side to let you in and shut the door behind you “Why don’t we go out for breakfast” he offered “This way you can just rest” he explained as he walked over to where you stood by your kitchen counter, where you had put your book down, gently putting a hand on your lower back. “Sure, I like that idea” you told him as you smiled looking up at him “I just need a few minutes to get ready and we can go, I actually know the perfect place” “Sounds good, also I was wondering if you had a spare toothbrush” he asked laughing slightly.

You laughed with him and nodded your head “Follow me” you instructed and brought Oscar to your bathroom to show him where you kept spare toiletries incase anyone ever needed anything while they were here.

“Thanks” he told you once he had a toothbrush in his hand “Anytime, when you’re done just make yourself at home and I’ll be ready soon” you told him.

As you turned to walk away to get ready, Oscar grabbed your wrist causing you to stay in place, he leant down giving you a quick peck on the lips “Sorry Ive just been wanting to do that since I woke up” he told you blushing.

You had a small blush on your own cheeks, he truly was the cutest person you knew “No need to apologize, you're welcome to do that whenever you want” you told him causing him to blush even more but then he broke into a boyish grin and stepped closer, putting his hands on your cheeks and kissing you properly.

It didn’t matter to either of you if you both had morning breath, all you cared about was each other and getting to do this as much as you could before Oscar left to get back into the world of F1.

yourusername posted on their story

caption: my favourite breakfast spot + my favourite boy 🧡

╰ oscarpiastri: ❤️

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got my film developed..finally 🫡

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friend1: omg these are so cute

╰ liked by yourusername

yourbestfriend: wait that pic of me is actually so cute, can you send me it 🥹

╰ yourusername: already did ❤️

oscarpiastri: im so lucky 🥰😍

╰ yourusername: brb blushing

╰ landonorris: who knew oscar had riz

╰ oscarpiastri: who let you here

╰ landonorris: y/n accepted my follow request..finally

╰ yourusername: sorry, takes me forever to do things 😆

yourusername posted on their story

caption: my favourite view 😏 @oscarpiastri

╰ oscarpiastri: youre my favourite everything 😏

╰ yourusername: real smooth..😆

oscarpiastri posted on their story

caption: i’ll miss you more than australia’s sunsets @yourusername

╰ yourusername: dont remind me that youre leaving soon

╰ yourusername: i need these next couple days not to fly by..

╰ oscarpiastri: i know :(

It was the day you and Oscar were most dreading, the day he had to leave Melbourne to get back to work. You had told him you would drive him to the airport, wanting to spend every minute you could with him before he left.

You made casual conversation on the drive over, not wanting to think about the fact you’d be doing long distance, not sure when you’d get to see each other next. You were going into your final year of your degree and would be in classes which meant you probably wouldn’t be able to attend the races.

Unfortunately you arrived at the airport faster than you hoped you would. You parked in the parking lot and got out of the vehicle once you turned the car off. You went to help Oscar with his bags “I got it” he told you, putting his backup on and then grabbing his suitcase handle with his one hand “Just hold my hand” he told you smiling and reaching to intertwine your fingers.

The two of you walked hand in hand towards the entrance. Because Oscar had some fame to his name, you were able to stay with him until he had to start boarding and then security would safely escort you back to your car, per request of Oscar himself. Luckily due to the time of day, there weren’t any fans that he could see but he didn’t want to risk it.

You sat in the waiting area for his flight to be called, you had your head resting on his shoulder “I’m gonna miss you so much” you told him softly “I know, I’m gonna miss you too” he expressed the same mutual feeling.

“I’ll be cheering you on from home for every race though” you added lifting your head up and looking at him, he smiled at your comment “Knowing youre watching is all the incentive I need to make sure I do good. I gotta make my girl proud” he said lifting your intertwined hands and giving them a kiss.

He could be such a hopeless romantic at times and it always made your stomach do cartwheels, you didn’t know how you got so lucky with Oscar.

Some time passed before his flight was called causing the two of you stand, forced to look at each other not wanting to say goodbye but knowing you had to.

“Go be a brilliant F1 driver” you told him, not wanting to say anything more or else you might cry “Come here” he said opening his arms, knowing you were doing your best not to cry.

It could be alot dating someone in Oscar’s field constantly having to say goodbye and not knowing when you’d be able to see each other next. You walked into his arms wrapping your arms around his waist as he wrapped his around you.

A moment passed before you pulled away, if he didn’t leave now, he’d miss his flight. “Text me when you land, I don’t care about the time difference” you told him “Of course” he told you as he picked up his backpack and you made your way to the doors to the plane.

After he gave you one final kiss on the lips, he turned and made his way through the doors heading for the plane. He wanted to turn around and see you one more time but he knew he’d never leave if he did so he kept walking straight.

You got walked back to your car, being sure to thank the security before you got in and put your keys in the engine. You waited till you were back home and wearing one of his hoodies to let a few tears fall.

It was crazy to you that someone you had only met a couple weeks prior had become someone so important to you and now you were crying over them leaving.

You didn’t know why you were reacting this way, you had been able to pack up and move across the world for school saying goodbye to family and friends. You had travelled, always making friends then saying goodbye. Goodbyes were something you had plenty of experience with, yet saying goodbye to Oscar was another level of difficult.

The more you thought about it, you realized he had become something you didn’t realize you were looking for, he had become your home and for the first time in your whole life, you were missing your home.

It was in this moment that you knew you didn't want to go another day without Oscar by your side. You knew you had to finish school but once you had your diploma, you'd be flying to Oscar and never leaving his side from there.

ahh i've been working on this one for awhile now so i hope you like it !! once again feel free to reblog or comment ur thoughts !! other than those notes, enjoy and talk soon ❤️

#ssprayberrythings talks #ssprayberrythings x formula one #f1 x reader #f1 smau #f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri smau #x reader #f1 imagine #op81 #imagines #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #mclaren f1 #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine

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fxrmuladaydreams · 9 months

Note

Heyyy this is my first time sending an ask on here so sorry if it’s wrong lol!

For Logan weekend could you do number 2&3 from the smut prompts?

You could write literally anything about Logan and I’d print it out and put it on my wall ✨

send me logan blurb requests (sfw & nsfw) for logan weekend

warnings: !! CONTAINS SMUT, MINORS DNI !! semi-public sex, overstimulation, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected p in v

2 : putting a hand over their mouth to be quiet

3 : overstimulating them til they’re begging

The muscles in Logan’s jaw had to be sore by now. He’d had it locked in a scowl, staring at you from the other side of the garage for at least ten minutes now.

Oscar had come by to visit, bringing Lando with him, who seemed to want to shoot his shot for you. He’d been flirting with you while Oscar had been talking to Logan. He laid it on thick, stretching, flexing the muscles in his arms, even blatantly looking you up and down.

“I told him to leave her alone.” Oscar says once he realizes Logan hasn’t been listening to a word he’s said.

“It’s fine.” Logan says through gritted teeth.

You and Logan had both decided to keep your relationship a secret, as to not draw even more attention to him during his first year in Formula One. You were a close friend of Logan’s while he was in F2 and became friends with Oscar too, so that’s what everyone else saw you as. Of course Oscar knew of your relationship, he was the one that pushed the two of you to get together.

Since only the three of you had been clued in on your relationship, you had to pretend you were single, which meant you had to endure Lando’s endless flirting, all while Logan had to watch with his arms crossed over his chest.

The jealousy that stirred in his chest only grew throughout the day. Lando kept making excuses to come back to the Williams area, just so he could spend more time with you.

You were happy to escape to Logan’s driver’s room at the end of the day, closing the door with a sigh. Finally, you could rest somewhere Lando wouldn’t be able to find you.

Logan was still reeling though, his shoulders tense as he tugged his race suit to hang off his hips.

“Are you okay baby?” You ask, softly massaging his shoulders.

He doesn’t answer, instead pinning you to the wall with his body. He gives you a searing kiss as his hands roam freely. He leaves kisses down your neck and collarbone, leaving splotches of purple in his wake.

He ends up on his knees with your skirt pushed up and one of your legs over his shoulder. He eats you out like you’re his last meal, making you fall apart on his tongue. You whine when he doesn’t stop, slurping up your release he takes your clit between his lips and throws you over the edge again.

Next he uses his fingers, hurriedly thrusting them in and out of you. You try to hold in your moans, afraid someone on the other side of the thin walls will hear you, but you can’t hide the wet squelching sounds coming from your cunt.

He licks the cum off his fingers once he’s brought you to your third orgasm. He stands up, and guides you to stand in front of his full size mirror.

You’re on shaky legs, losing your balance completely when Logan fully thrusts into you. You catch yourself with your hands on the wall, staring at Logan in your reflection. He’s got a look of determination on his face as he pounds into you.

It all feels like it’s too much, like you’re drowning in Logan.

“Please, please, please Logan.” You whimper. You don’t even know what you’re begging for.

He pushes his hand over your mouth, pulling your body back against his as he thrusts up into you.

“You have to be quiet. You don’t want anyone else to hear you, do you?” He taunts you.

You clench around him at the thought of it. You never locked the door, it’d be so easy for someone to walk in and see Logan fucking you into oblivion.

“Oh, is that what you want?” He coos. “You want someone to walk in? How about Lando? We can show Lando what you look like when you fall apart on my cock.”

His words send you over the edge, a cry of Logan’s name is muffled from his hand.

He’s quick to follow, releasing his cum deep inside you. He pulls himself out, then straightens your skirt.

“I’m keeping these.” He says as he picks up the panties he’d tossed away. “And you are going to spend the rest of the day with me dripping down your thighs.” He smirks.

#logan sargeant x reader #logan sargeant smut #ls2 x reader #formula one x reader #logan weekend

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absurdthirst · 1 year

Text

Love to Hate You {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11k

Warnings: Cheating, divorce, face slapping, name calling, insults, angry sex, hate fucking, rough sex, biting, scratching, unprotected sex, sub/dom dynamics, mentions of pregnancy, angst, mentions of drug use

Comments: Married to Dieter Bravo, you lash out when you find out the man you helped become a star is cheating on you. Taking him to cleaners divorce wise, you never thought you would run into him the day the divorce was final. Leaving you two to decide to work the hatred you have for each other out in bed.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

Dieter frowns when the taxi pulls up outside of his house, clothes scattered on the lawn, and he quickly pays the driver to get out and see what the fuck is going on. He’d called you from the airport to let you know he’s on his way home and now you are throwing his clothes out of the house. “Babe. What the actual fuck are you doing?” He demands when he sees you come out of the bedroom, carrying an armful of his clothes.

“You motherfucker!” You shriek, dropping the clothes to rush up to slap him. He flinches, barely managing to grab your wrist before you can make contact.

“Not the face. It’s the money maker.” He demands and you clench your fist, ripping your arm from his grasp.

“You fucking cheated on me! You - you bastard!” You shriek and he shakes his head, “what the fuck are you screaming about?” You shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks and you rush over to the magazine, clearly showing him and his co-star kissing outside of a bar, shoving it towards him. “Explain this then.” You demand with a scoff

Shit. He had thought he had gotten away with that. “It’s not what it looks-“

You scream and fling the magazine at him. “It’s exactly what it looks like!” You yell. “You aren’t filming! You promised me! You promised me that nothing was happening with her!” You had expressed your concerns with him getting too close to his co-star, he was constantly talking about her. “Just last night you promised me and you had already fucking cheated on me!” You don’t give a damn if he had only kissed her, he lied to you. “Get out! Get out! Get the fuck out!” You grab another handful of his clothes and fling them out over the balcony.

Dieter ducks as you toss a shoe at his head. “Baby. Baby. Stop. No! She - she didn’t mean anything. You’re my fucking wife! I love you. Not her! I don’t - I fucked up.” He tries to plead but you throw the other shoe at him.

“You fucker. We - we had phone sex last night and you promised me she was just a costar. You fucking bastard!” You scream and he holds his hands up, “baby please. Don’t do this.”

“You’re an asshole!” You had cried, wept and wallowed in misery over the fact that the man you absolutely love had betrayed you. Until you had shifted from despair to rage. Now you want to make him pay. Every fucking cent you can squeeze out of him. You had married him when he was nobody, had supported him when he quit his shit waiter jobs because they wouldn’t let him off to audition and he fucking cheats on you? Now you’re going to take everything. “Guess what Dieter?” You hold up his precious Oscar, from its place of pride on the bedside table.

“No- no baby, not the Oscar!” Dieter begs, clapping his hands together as he pleads.

“We don’t have a prenup, you cheating fuck.” You hiss, grinning cruelly at him. “And I gave the best goddamn divorce attorney in the state.”

Dieter shakes his head, “you can’t- you can’t divorce me. I’m fucking Dieter Bravo. Who the fuck will compare to me? You are a nobody, no one is gonna give a fuck about you. You are nothing without me. Good luck to you sweetheart if you think you’re gonna make it alone.” He scoffs, suddenly getting defensive and cruel, crossing his arms as he tries to act like he doesn’t care when he hates that you are leaving him.

You freeze, staring at him for a moment before you hurl the Oscar at his head making him duck and it shatters the mirror behind him. “Fuck you, you no talented, limp dicked prick!” You shout, turning around and grabbing the papers you are to give him and flinging them outside. “Go fucking live with your costar! She can put up with your needy ass.”

Dieter picks up his Oscar, knowing he won’t kick you out of the house but he has to take his clothes. “Can I ask least have a fucking suitcase?” He whines and you toss a roll of trash bags at him. “You’re gonna regret this.” He growls, “you’ll never have anyone as good as me.” He spits and storms out of the house, ready to pick up his clothes and drive his car over to his co-star’s house, hopefully she will let him stay. She knows he’s married and she knew that before they even started filming. He shouldn’t have cheated but he’s a movie star, that’s what being famous entails. You knew he wanted to be a movie star when you first met, this shouldn’t be a surprise that he’s cheated on you. Everyone he knows in the industry cheats. He isn’t the exception. He gathers his clothes and gets into his car, speeding out of the driveway and he swears he will fucking ruin you.

****

“We’re here today to try to mediate the division of assists between my client and Mister Bravo.” You glare across the table where Dieter is sprawled in a chair and try not to care that he looks tired. The fact that you still love him and hate his guts at the same time infuriates you. Making sure you dress to impress and remind Dieter what he’s losing, you smirk slightly when he turns and looks over at you before you turn back to your lawyer. “We’ve already drafted a settlement that we believe is more than fair considering my client helped Mister Bravo’s career become what it is today.” The demands your lawyer insisted be more that what would ever be awarded to you is produced and handed to whoever Dieter’s manager had hired to represent him. You doubt he had found an attorney himself. Hell, you had done everything for him, was his unofficial assistant after his fame had taken off. Not anymore.

Dieters lawyer grabs the settlement, reading through it to the number and his eyes widen. He leans in to whisper in Dieter’s ear and his eyes widen behind the obnoxious sunglasses he’s wearing. “How fucking much? You- what the hell? You can’t take the house? And how much a month? Jesus Christ baby.” He shakes his head. “You’re trying to take everything I own.”

It’s hard not to soften towards him, especially when he’s looking at you like he’s wounded but you remember the picture of him kissing his co-star. Your smile is vicious. “Remember when I was supporting you because you didn’t want to wait tables so you could have the flexibility to audition.” You remind Dieter sweetly. “And then after you starting getting jobs, I had to give up my job to be your unofficial assistant.”

Dieter sighs, “you had a nice life with me. Never wanted for anything. Why do you want to take everything I own?” He shakes his head, scratching his jaw, “she - she wasn’t you. She never was you. I- please don’t do this.” He pleads, conscious of his estate now that he has an Oscar and the money he’s made. He doesn’t want to lose it all to you.

“Did you fuck her?” You ask, leaning forward and staring at him. Dieter guiltily looks away and confirms what you already knew. He had slept with the co-star that you ‘didn’t have to worry about’. “I thought so.” You cross your arms and bite your lip so you don’t cry.

Dieter hates the look in your eyes, and he knows he owes you the truth. “It wasn’t just her. There were others.” His lawyer hisses in annoyance at his admittance even though more than one affair won’t change the settlement. “The co-star for Hunger Strike. A few fans. A model-”

You cut him off with a choked “stop.”

He leans back in his chair and you swallow harshly, tears now flowing freely. “I thought you’d want to know.” He says and you shake your head.

“Just sign the papers. Please. Let me go.” You beg and he shakes his head.

“I don’t want to let you go. I love you baby. They didn’t mean anything. You - you are the love of my life.”

“You don’t know what love is, Dieter.” Your chin trembles slightly and you shake your head. “I never - ever - cheated on you and I had opportunities to.” You reveal. “Your co-star on your movie last year. But I didn’t, because I loved you.” Your voice cracks slightly. “Now? Now I hate you. I hate you, Dieter.”

His heart breaks but he knows he has ruined your marriage. His shield comes back up and he pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “Whatever. You hate me? I fucking - I hate you for resenting me for my success. Just because you never made it as a painter. Fuck you, sweetheart. I’ll go find a new, younger pussy to fuck in a new house in Sherman Oaks. You’ll be bitter in that shitty house, drowning in memories of us. I’ll sign the papers and we will be done here.” He answers coolly, crossing his arms as he stares at you from across the table.

“Mister Bravo-“ his attorney is wide eyed and shaking his head but Dieter interrupts him.

“I’m signing the fucking papers.” He tells him coldly. “She wants to move on and so do I.”

You glare at him, aware that he’s just shit on the life that you had built together, the ‘shitty’ house was one that he had been giddy to sign the papers on, making love to you in every room. “Good.”

Dieter signs with flourish, using the autograph he’s perfected over the years. “Good luck to you baby, you’ll need it if you ever want someone to make you cum like I did.” He snorts, shoving the papers over to you. He wants this done with so he can go snort some coke and start home shopping to get out of his rental. He just signed another movie deal so he’s ready to move on from you and his old life.

****

You hadn’t been trying to run into your newly minted ex husband. You really hadn’t been. A week after the papers had been signed, the judge approved them and as of today, you were officially Dieter Bravo’s ex wife. The irony had been that the day of your divorce was also your wedding anniversary so many years ago. You hadn’t wanted to sit at home, slowly going through and getting rid of all the evidence that Dieter had once been the main focus of your life, taking down pictures and throwing away old hair brushes. So you had decided to go out. Making a reservation for yourself in CUT, inside the Beverly Wilshire, you never expected to find your ex husband walking into the restaurant, wrapped around a starlet.

Dieter clicks his fingers and the maitre ‘d rushes off to go get him a table and that’s when he sees you. His eyes widen behind his ever present sunglasses and he drops his arm from the young woman who is trying to cling to him. He pushes her away gently and he tells her to wait for the table, lying that he will be right back. He strides over to the table, “fancy seeing you somewhere like this, sweetheart. Not really your kind of scene, is it? Shouldn’t you be at home…knitting? Changing the cat litter for the five cats you’ve likely bought since I left?” He taunts you as he looms over you.

Your smile is vicious and you pick up the martini you had been nursing to toss back and signal for another when the waiter comes up to you. “No, no cats.” You hum, glancing up at him and hate how you still find him sexy. “Decided I need to have a little red meat tonight, to make sure I was up for later on.” You smirk and give a small shrug before you peer over at his waiting conquest. “She looks…..limber.” You offer, not seeing what he found appealing in the girl, except youth. Your martini is delivered and you smile at the waiter, picking it up and moaning at the first sip.

Your moan makes Dieter’s cock twitch and he fucking hates it but nonetheless he invites himself to sit down at the table opposite you. “She’s a fun time, but she’s too eager. You know I like a little bite.” He shrugs and he looks at you over the rim of his glasses, eyes dipping down to your cleavage. You’re still so infuriatingly sexy despite taking all of his money. “What’s later on?” He asks, raising his eyebrows.

Setting your drink down, you pick up your knife and fork to cut another piece off the perfectly seared steak. “I have a ‘date’ with Patrick.” You offer, reminding him of your conversation in the lawyer’s office. “He asked if he could come over after finding out we got divorced.” You’re lying, but it serves the son of a bitch right for sleeping with half of Hollywood. “Trying to decide if I want to book a room, or break in the new bed I bought.”

Dieter narrows his eyes, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Patrick doesn’t know how to fuck.” He admits, leaning in to smirk, “I know that because his ex wife told me that before I fucked her right.” He never got along with Patrick. “Maybe you should book a room, see if she was lying or not.”

“I should.” The knife to the heart twists deeper when you learn about another person he cheated on you with but you don’t let him see it. “Who knows? Maybe your little tartlet will be one of those silent moaners so you can hear me scream again.” You snort, smirking at the thought of your ex-husband hearing you having sex with someone who wasn’t him.

Dieter scoffs just as Anastasia comes over and caresses his shoulder, “the table is ready baby.” She coos and doesn’t even spare you a second glance.

Dieter pushes her hand off of his shoulder, “I’m not hungry anymore. I don’t want dinner.” He says coolly.

She frowns, “you wanna go to my place?” She asks and he shakes his head.

“No. You’re boring as fuck. Go home and find some Ken doll to copulate with.” He waves his hand to dismiss her and her face falls. She punches his shoulder and storms off, furious at his rejection. “Now where were we? Oh yes, something about you screaming my name?”

“Your name?” You laugh and shake your head. “I don’t want to catch something.” You hiss, making Dieter frown.

“I’m clean, I’ve been tested and you aren’t going to scream Patrick’s name, you’re going to scream mine. Just like you always did. No one makes your legs shake and your pussy gush like I do.” He brags and damn him, he has a fucking point. He has been the best fucking sex of your life.

You smirk, deciding you want to work him out of your system. “Go rent a room, Bravo and if I feel like it, I’ll come up.”

Dieter smirks, “really?” You stare at him and when you don’t say no, just continue to stare, he scrambles to stand up. He strides over to the front desk, demanding a suite, and pays for it on a shiny credit card. He signs the papers and gets the key before he comes back over to you. “Here to make all your Pretty Woman dreams come true, baby. You want me to fuck you? I’ll be in room 1021. Don’t keep me waiting.” He leans in to kiss your cheek, sloppily, and struts off to the elevators. As much as no one made you gush like he did, no one ever made him cum as hard as you do. He’s missed you, even if he hates that you took everything from him. Tonight, he wants to indulge in the bittersweet memories of the past.

You take your time, knowing how impatient Dieter is. It will drive him crazy to wait and wonder if you will come up or if you will just leave him hanging. So you slowly consume the rest of your dinner and have one more martini before you pay the check and stand to make your way over to the elevators. You’ve decided that you aren’t going to fuck Dieter, but you wanted him to pay for an expensive suite, just so you can slap him when he opens the door.

When you knock on the door, Dieter grins and strides over to open it. This could either go horrifically wrong or epically right. He stripped down as soon as he got into the suite, thinking it would be funny to open the door naked. When he opens the door, he waggles his eyebrows and your jaw drops, eyes dipping down to his cock. He chuckles, “you missed me, baby?”

You react quickly, hand coming up to slap him, the hit echoing in the large suite and Dieter’s eyes widen.

“What the fuck?” He gasps and you slap him again. “You fucking bitch!” He growls and steps towards you, his hand grabbing your wrist and you falter but he surges forward to press his lips to yours.

You had meant to fight him, to push him away and tell him you would never fuck hum again but the second his lips touch yours, it’s like you’ve lost all reason. The neediness that is inherently Dieter is right there on the surface, wrapping around you and begging for you to touch him. Moaning, you sink your fingers into his curly hair and yank on it hard enough that he yelps into your mouth, cock jumping where it’s pressed against your hip. You’ll fuck him, but it’s going to be angry, just like you feel towards him. “Bastard.” You hiss, biting down on his lip and pulling. “Couldn’t- couldn’t be faithful.” You yank on his hair again and make him whine before you crush your lips to his again.

Dieter groans into your mouth, hands sliding down to squeeze your ass, and he licks along your jaw. “Because of your cold cunt. You kept pushing me away.” He grunts, kissing along your neck and he can’t resist biting down on the juncture between your shoulder and your neck.

Your eyes flutter and you whimper softly, “bullshit.” You argue, twisting your fingers in his hair. “I fucked you whenever you wanted. Never turned you down, you’re just a greedy asshole.” You reach down with your other hand to wrap it around his hard cock and you squeeze a little harder than you would have before you discovered his infidelities.

He hisses at the way you grip his cock, “fuck you. You wouldn’t have any passion. You’d just let me rut into you. There was no reaction, you moaned and faked it. Did - was my cock not good enough for you?” He demands to know, reaching for the zipper of your dress to roughly drag it down.

You snort and roughly start to jerk him off, not caring that you haven’t spit in your hand or smear lube on him. You hope it’s painful. “You mean all thirty seconds of thrusting before you came?” You taunt, stomach lurching at the way his fingers peel your dress away in a frantic, needy manner. Where had this been while you were together? Why hadn’t you been good enough?

Dieter grunts, “it wasn’t thirty seconds.” Your grip is tight and it’s dry but he’s so desperate for you he doesn’t even care. He shoves your dress down your hips, leaving you in lacy underwear that has him drooling. “Who was this for?” He demands to know as he slides his hands under the elastic so he can rub your clit.

“Not you.” You bite back, knowing that it had just been to make yourself feel better. If it makes your ex husband jealous of who you were going to model it for, even better. “Fuck, Dee.” You hiss, hips jerking forward at the pressure of his fingers. “Maybe- fuck, maybe I’ll just make you eat me out.” You pant, pressing your thumb against the drooling head of his cock. “Not let you cum.”

“You know you can’t resist me inside of you. Never could end it at oral. Always had to fuck you into the mattress. Even if you made me cum down your throat. You waited until I was hard again.” He pushes two fingers inside of you, groaning at how wet you are. “Guess you’re wet over this mystery man too?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You aren’t going to admit that Dieter turns you on. Even as your pussy flutters around his fingers. “So fucking cocky for so little performance.” You smear the spurt of precum around the head and reach down to fondle his balls, probably a little firmer than before but you don’t squeeze. You’ve finally admitted to yourself that he’s going to fuck you.

“You’re always such a bitch. Can’t just admit it, can you?” He growls, pulling his fingers out of your cunt and he pushes your dress down to the floor, reaching out to try and rip your panties. “Shit.” He growls, tossing the material to the floor and he slides his hand up to remove your bra with one hand. “Get on the fucking bed.”

You want to push back, to argue just because you can but your legs are shaking and you stumble over towards the bed. Laying down and spreading your legs to show him your dripping cunt. Smirking, you slide your fingers through your folds. “Maybe I should just take care of myself. Since I’m just letting you rut over me and not enjoying myself. Hmm?”

Dieter snorts, striding over and he grabs your hand to snatch it away from your pussy. “Is that what you want? DIY job?” He mocks you, using your hand to push two of your fingers inside of you, keeping his grip on your hand to guide your fingers. “Do they feel better than mine? Do they stretch you out properly?” He coos, smirking when you whine when he pushes them deep inside of you using his own hand.

Dieter is a cocky shit, but he makes you hot. You let him pump your fingers into your cunt until he finally tires of that and makes you stop. “Don’t you want to fuck your ex wife?” You taunt. “Since I fucked you out of your money? Your house?”

He grips his cock, pumping himself after he pulls your fingers from your pussy, and he pumps himself. “You want me to fuck you? I’m gonna need you to beg for it baby.” He orders and your upper lip curls, “as if. I’ll never beg you to fuck me again.”

He chuckles and kneels on the bed, pushing your thighs back and lifting them over his hips. Gripping his cock, he rubs your clit with the head and you moan, “you were saying?” He smirks, teasing you.

“Fuck you, Bravo.” You hiss, glaring at him and that’s the moment that he decides to push inside you. Making you cry out from the thick stretch of him. The thing about Dieter is that his cock is fucking thick, making it hard to take if you aren’t stretched out, but you are wet enough that it only pinches slightly. He pushes in hard, making you gasp as he pushes the air out of your lungs when he hits the back wall of your cunt.

Your gasp makes him chuckle and he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You want him to fuck you, he’s gonna ruin you. No one's gonna compare to him. He rocks into you, hard and fast, setting a devastating pace while he looms over you. “You have missed this cock, haven’t you baby?” He mocks you, eying the way your eyes roll back onto your head.

You hate that he’s right, you’ve missed him. You’ve missed sleeping beside him and having him wake you up for sex during the middle of the night. Instead of answering, you reach up and pinch his nipple, knowing how much he likes that. “I shouldn’t let you fuck me.” You pant. “Who knows where your dick has been?”

“Always wear a condom.” He promises, “you’re the only one I trust.” He admits, “don’t need a fucking baby mama chasing child support on top of your alimony.” He scoffs and leans down to bite your nipple, pushing your thighs back even further so he can sink deeper inside of you.

It’s fucking pathetic that his confession makes you happy. That he would trust you and not those other assholes. He could be lying but you doubt it. Not now. “Fuck Dee.” You whine, closing your eyes and reaching up to dig your nails into his arms above his tattoos, wanting to leave marks he would carry for the next few days from you.

He loves hearing you whine for him. No one else seems to moan his name like you do and he shudders above you, shifting to your other tit, he bites down and loves the way your nails dig into his arms. His manager will bitch about it but he doesn’t care right now. His cock pushes deep inside of you and he groans when your walls flutter around him. “Always been so easy to wind up.” He taunts you, kissing your sternum.

You huff, rolling your eyes and you wrap your legs around him so you can squeeze him tight. Making him hiss at how tight you grip him. “You’re a bigger asshole now.” You moan, closing your eyes so you don’t start to cry at the sudden rush of emotions. You hate him, you hate him so much.

“You’re a bigger bitch now.” He counters, sliding his hands under you so he can bury his face in your neck, breathing you in. He hates you, hates how you drag him back under the emotions he tries to bury. He misses you, of course he does, but you don’t understand him anymore. You don’t understand the world he operates in. If he was an average Joe with an average job, you would’ve been married still. “Fuck.” He hisses, dropping his hips to grind deeper inside of you.

You aren’t clinging to him because you want to, it’s because of how he’s fucking you. Gasping and whining in his ear every time he punches deep against your cervix and makes you clench around him. “Keep- keep it up and I -I might actually cum this time.” You pant into his hair and tighten your hold on him when he hisses into your neck. “Fuck, Dee, so close.” You moan.

Dieter grits his teeth, desperate to make you cum on his cock again, he wants to show how good it was. He groans when you clamp down on his cock after a few more thrusts. “Fuck baby. So good. So good.” He groans, “missed how you cum around me.” He confesses and lets go, ramming inside of you before he stills, cumming like he hasn’t since you first got together.

“Deeeeee.” Your head tilts back and you cry out, body tightening up underneath him as you start to cum. Loving and hating how he can make you cum and it’s always better than anyone else you’ve ever been with. Feeling the heat from his own release flooding your cunt and making you whine at how good it feels as he tries to rock it deeper with every roll of his hips.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” He bites out, groaning when he pushes deep and leans over you, pressing his lips to yours despite the risk that you could bite his lip. He has regrets, of course he does, but he knows that his career would destroy you in the long run like it has him. He knows he would freak out if you were hounded by paps like he is. He pulls out of you after a moment, shifting off of the bed to redress. He needs to go. He can’t fall back in love with you, he can’t risk it. “I’m, uh, gonna go. Order whatever you want from the room service. Stay the night.”

You hadn’t expected soft words or love, but Dieter has always been a snuggly, cuddly person after sex. Sprawling all over you and insisting that he sleep inside you. Sitting up, you watch as he hastily dresses like a husband will be after him with a shotgun. “Whatever.” You snort, standing up and grabbing your bra so you can redress. “Enjoy your next conquest.” You smirk. “I know you need to book another movie to make the alimony payment.”

****

Dieter glances around the expensive suite of the Beverly Wilshire, waiting for you. It’s been 3 years since that night you spent in the hotel room together and it’s become a tradition of sorts, a revisit to your marriage. He knows he can’t give you his loyalty, and you won’t give him his freedom, so this is a compromise. Meet every year on your wedding anniversary to fuck each others brains out then leave and resume your daily lives. It scratches an itch, you once said. His knee bounces and he waits for you to arrive, maybe you changed your mind this year? He would never admit the relief he feels when he hears the knock on the door and he opens it to find you looking gorgeous as ever. “Took you fucking long enough.” He gripes, knowing you still hate him.

You roll your eyes and step into the suite, your palm itching to slap him again. You secretly wonder if Dieter likes it because he doesn’t try to stop you when you do. “I could have stayed home with my toys.” You snark, raising a brow and shaking your head. “Strip and lay down on the bed. I’m riding you this year.” You order, wishing you had brought handcuffs to tie him to the bed so you could stuff your panties in his mouth.

“Such a fucking bossy bitch. Jesus Christ.” Dieter huffs and pulls his ragged shirt over his head. Ever since he made it big, he wears shitty clothes so the paps don’t want to take his photo. “Were you this fucking bossy during our marriage?” He asks, pushing his sweats down to expose his semi hard cock. He’s always half hard just thinking of you. He kicks them aside and lays down on the bed as per your orders, folding his arms behind his head.

“Yes.” You start to strip off your clothes, fully aware that his eyes are glued to every inch of skin you start to reveal. As much as Dieter says he wanted younger, better pussy - he keeps coming back for yours. Thrilling you in a way, since he always rises to the occasion on your little anniversary interludes. “You liked it. ‘Yes ma’am. Whatever you want, just please suck my cock’.” You mock, revealing the lacy teddy you had worn underneath. You would swear it’s not for Dieter but you’d be lying. Wanting him to regret leaving you. “You hate it now, but that’s okay, because I still hate you.”

Dieter’s stomach twists at hearing you still hate him but he ignores that to watch your beautiful body as you stand there in the teddy. “If you wanna be bossy, then be bossy. Tell me what you want. Use me.” He demands, cock twitching against his stomach at the thought of you riding his face or his cock.

You give a small laugh and tilt your head as you look at him, “wrap your hands around the headboard.” You order as you move towards the bed. “Don’t touch me. You're going to make me cum on your face and then I’m going to ride your cock.”

He nods, cock leaking a drop of precum at the thought of you riding his face. “Fuck yes, baby. Come on, wanna taste that pussy.” He orders, knowing he should be rude and demand you suck he cock but he can’t. He wants you to fall apart on his face. “Hurry up!” He whines when you take too long to straddle his chest.

“So impatient.” You slap his cheek gently and smirk at the way his cock twitches behind you. “Open that dirty, cheating mouth of yours, you bastard.” Pulling the cloth covering your cunt to the side, you shuffle forward to drop your lips onto his mouth.

He groans when your tang hits his lips. His hands squeeze the headboard, wanting to touch you, but he’s had his orders. He works his tongue through your folds, flicking your clit, and he closes his eyes as he savors the taste he knows so well.

“Fuck.” You won’t admit it, but he’s still the best fucking lover you’ve ever had. Switching between demanding and submissive, it’s always fun to fuck Dieter. Reaching behind you, your fingers wrap around his cock and squeeze. “Good boy,” you moan quietly.

“Fuck.” He groans into your folds, cock twitching in your grip and combined with your praise, he’s leaking onto his stomach. You rock your hips and he licks at your cunt, suddenly ravenous and ready to make you cum. He wants to hear you cry out his name in pleasure instead of anger.

If you were still together, you would twist your body around and wrap your lips around his cock. Last year he had made you blow him until your throat was raw and the fucked you until you screamed his name. Getting another noise complaint like you do every year. You miss the weight of his cock on your tongue but this is your time. His fingers grip the head board desperately as you grind down on his face. “Maybe- maybe you should do a porno.” You pant out, looking down at his desperate eyes.

He chuckles into your flesh, knowing he would retort with “might have to do that to pay your alimony” but your pussy is smothering him so he can’t respond. He pushes his tongue inside of you instead, making sure his nose rubs your clit while he curls his tongue deep. The headboard creaks as he struggles to keep holding it, wanting to touch you instead.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck Dee.” You whine, rocking your hips harder and throwing your head back. You love how deep he can get into your soaked walls and how perfectly his tongue curls into you. “You’re gonna make me cum.” You pant. “Gonna soak your stupid face.”

He chuckles at your jab but pays it no mind as his tongue keeps curling inside of you, waiting for you to cum on his tongue for him. His hands squeeze the headboard with the need to touch you and he presses his nose against your clit.

When you cum, you cry out his name, hating that you can’t make yourself call him someone else. Anyone else. That would piss him off. Your thighs shake around his head as you flood his tongue and face with your release as you pant over him.

Dieters hands fly off of the headboard to grab your hips, keeping you pressed into his mouth so he can lap up every drop of cum you can offer him. “Fuck baby. Fuck.” He groans into your flesh, sliding his tongue through your folds until your thighs shake.

When you finally pull off his mouth, you are breathless. Desperate to have him inside you as your cum smears down his chest when you slither down his body. Wrapping your hand around his cock again to position him at your entrance, you lean forward and crush your lips to his while you sink down on his cock.

Dieter groans so loud, he’s certain the entire building just heard him. “Fuckkkk baby girl. Shit.” He hisses, eyes rolling back into his head with how wet and hot you are around him. You’re the only woman he fucks raw, no one else gets to feel all of him. He doesn’t trust anyone else with the birth control, knowing he has too much on the line for them to take from him. Also, he would never admit it to his therapist, let alone himself, that the only woman he has ever imagined having a kid with is you. “Gonna ride me?” He asks when you remain still on his cock.

Slapping your hands down on his chest, you start to move. “Wanted to make sure you didn’t cum immediately.” You snark, circling your hips and lifting off his length just to sink back down on him with a moan. You’ll go get tested, just like you do after every anniversary you spend with Dieter. Not able to trust him to not lie to you anymore, even though you know you can. Catching something was always something he had been scared of, the man couldn’t handle a fucking cold without being a baby. An STI would lay him out. “Know it’s been awhile for you. Since that model dumped you.”

Dieter huffs, sliding his hands up to squeeze your tits, and his eyes drift down to where you are sinking down on his cock, making him groan at the sight of it. He wants to admit the real reason why he was dumped but he can’t. How could he say that the model dumped him because he’s ‘still in love with his ex wife’ and instead he says “she’s like you. Couldn’t handle me being famous. Well, more famous than her.” He scoffs, closing his eyes so you can’t read him like a book. “But she rode me better than you do.” He lies, pinching your nipples, “more flexible.”

“Bastard.” You huff, clenching around him just to make him hiss. “Sorry I’m not as flexible.” Your nails scratch down his chest and you make sure that you swivel your hips even more. The idea that someone fucks him better than you to making you competitive. “Maybe I’ll - fuck, maybe I’ll take lessons on sex from that- that guru then.”

Dieter’s eyes open so he can glare at you. His old friend, the sex guru, Josh, who he fell out with after he indicated he wanted to fuck you, was not Dieter’s favorite person. “He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He makes shit up - to - to sell books.” He grunts when you bounce on his cock and he hits deep inside of you, taking his breath away.

Instead of arguing, you moan as he hits perfectly against your g-spot. Making you lurch forward and try to make him hit that perfect position again. “You- oh fuck, you feel so good, Dee.” You whimper, leaning in and biting his shoulder and then sucking on the skin to make sure you leave a mark for him to remember you by. Something he sees since his management sends you the alimony checks. You doubt he even knows how much he’s got or where it goes daily.

“Jesus Christ.” Dieter curses even though he changes his religion every week depending on his aura. “Fuck. You feel so good. Fucking hate that no one ever feels as good as you.” He huffs, rocking his hips up to meet yours as you grind down onto him. He knows you hate him, would never want to be married to him again, but he fucking misses this, misses you, despite knowing you can’t accept or handle his life.

If you were the bitch Dieter claims you are, you would bring up that his ex supposedly felt better, but you don’t. Secretly loving that you give Dieter what he can’t get anywhere else. Especially since you hate that no one else has ever fucked you like he can. You never let men stick around because you know you will be in this suite with him the next year like clockwork. Tied to him in ways that you can’t, or won’t, examine. You miss him, and hate that you miss him. “Dee.” You whine, biting his pec right over his heart and kissing up his jaw to his lips. “Gonna cum baby.” You moan. “You- oh fuck!” You squeal when he hits just right, clamping down on his cock as a wave of pleasure threatens to drown you.

“Yessss. Oh fuck yes!” Dieter growls when you clamp down on his cock. He fucking loves it. Loves when you cum so hard you nearly cut off his circulation. He pulls you close, wrapping his arms around you, and he begins to rock up into you, seeking his own orgasm. “Fuck. Oh fuck. I’ve missed you. Miss you so much baby. Jesus Christ, missed this pussy.” He rambles without really thinking about it.

Closing your eyes, you listen and whine as he pants praises into your ear. Wishing it was real, but that’s just Dieter when he is pussy drunk. He hates you for divorcing him and making him pay you. You kiss his jaw and moan his name again when you feel his thrusts get sloppy. “Cum for me, baby. Cum for me Dee.” You beg.

He groans, thrusting into you a half dozen more times before he cums, pushing deep to paint your walls with his hot seed. You are so tight and wet, he can't help it. He bites down on your neck, cock twitching inside of you as he rides his orgasm.

“Fuck.” You clench down around him, enjoying the come down from another amazing orgasm. Aware that it will only be a minute or two before Dieter is ready to move on for the year. “Not bad.” You pant, kissing his shoulder before you start to sit up. Looking down at the disheveled mess that is your ex husband. “I guess the rumors of you getting too old aren’t true.” You pull off of his cock with a moan and roll to the side, knowing you need to get up and get dressed.

He sighs when you shift to get up from the bed. Dieter watches you rush to the bathroom to clean up and he rubs his cheeks, wishing he could cuddle you one more time, just hold you and breathe you in like he used to. “I’m not too old.” He shouts out at you, looking up at the ceiling of the expensive suite.

You snort as you look at yourself in the mirror, shaking your head. “There he is!” You yell back at him, washing your hands and coming out of the bathroom and walking over to pick up your dress. “What starlet are you planning on dating this month?” You ask as you start to get dressed again. “Anyone I know?”

“My PR team wants me to date some new actress to help her PR and get the press off of my back after the coke in the club photos. Some innocent thing, new to the industry, and from some podunk town.” He huffs, shifting off of the bed, “she’s gonna be so boring but it’s what they recommend.”

“Oh god.” You roll your eyes and sigh. “Try not to ruin her, Dee.” Asking him not to fuck her is an impossibility, but hopefully he won’t get her hooked on anything. “No drugs for her. Especially if she’s young.”

“She’s not that young. She’s just innocent and well…she’s younger than me. I’m getting old now.” He admits softly, reaching for his nearly threadbare boxers. “I- I am getting tired of the PR schemes, the constant dating. It’s exhausting. No one knows the real me. No one except you.” He admits softly, standing up to pull the boxers on.

Zipping up your dress, you pull it down and nod. “So forge a real connection.” As much as Dieter’s infidelity hurt you, you wanted him to be happy. It obviously hadn’t been with you, but you wanted him to find whoever could give him the life he wants. “Don’t date who they want you to. Date who you want to date. Be open, honest.” You stress. “Deep, deep down, beyond the petty, shallow bullshit, you are a good guy. A cheating bastard, but a good guy.”

Dieter pulls on his sweatpants and reaches for his t-shirt. He sighs when you tell him to go find someone who makes him happy but that’s impossible. He pulls his shirt over his head and watches you put your shoes on. “I’m not a good guy. I- I’m an asshole. I take drugs to forget about the fact that I lost the best thing in my life.” He admits softly as he pulls his cardigan on.

“God, Dieter.” You roll your eyes as you pull on your shoes. “You told me you hated our house.” You remind him. “Said you were going to go live in Sherman Oaks and be happy and I could have our shitty house.” You know he’s not talking about the house, you aren’t dumb. “You get to live in a nicer house, snort all the Coke you want, bang whatever piece of ass that catches your eye, your life’s great.”

Dieter sits down to pull on his Uggs. “Great.” The word sits heavy in his mouth, “yeah. It’s great. Being alone. People only want me for what I can give them. Not liking me for who I am. Yeah, it’s fucking fantastic.” He scoffs and stands up. “Whatever. Same time next year?” He asks you as he walks over to the door to open it.

You know that he’s wanting you to say something, to comfort him, but this is what he wanted. Or at least it’s what he chose when he decided to cheat on you. “Yep.” You pick up your purse and slide the strap over your shoulder. Walking over to him, you pat his chest and then his cheek. Leaning in and kissing his lips, you smirk and drag your finger through his patchy beard. “You’re getting grays in your beard, Bravo. You old fuck.” Turning, you walk down the hall, pretending like you don’t have a care in the world.

Dieter huffs and slumps down on the bed again, staring up at the ceiling. He feels so fucking alone now. Maybe he needs to consider getting a real partner. Someone who understands his lifestyle and his career. Who’s he kidding? No one wants him.

****

“No. No. I can’t take that movie. Not if it’s filming in London then.” Dieter shakes his head and his manager frowns, “what do you mean ‘no’? This is a potential second offer.”

Dieter’s manager tells him and Dieter shakes his head, “I can’t. I- I have another appointment during that month.” He doesn’t expand on his reason but his manager shakes his head.

“Unbelievable. What could possibly be more important?” He asks Dieter who answers softly, “it’s my wedding anniversary.” His manager frowns and Dieter stands from the seat, “get the filming changed or I’m not doing it.” Dieter says before he exits the office. He won’t miss your anniversary.

****

Dieter rubs his hands on his pants as he waits for you, the normal suite in the Beverly Wilshire, and he checks the clock. You’re late. He frowns, you’re never late. He sighs and wishes he had your number memorized. He waits another hour until he gets mad. “Fucking bitch.” He growls, standing up and he decides to head over to the house and confront you, see why you stood him up.

When the doorbell peels, you curse at your kitchen sink, turning off the water and grabbing a dish towel to wipe your hands as you rush towards the door. You need to get a damn sign to put up to just leave packages on the doorstep instead of wanting to alert you. It’s been a hectic day and all you want to do is have five minutes to sit down, maybe a nap. Most definitely a bath, but a nap most of all. “Sorry, I- Dieter!” Throwing open the door, you had been about to apologize to whatever delivery driver was standing there when you freeze, shocked by the sight of your ex husband on the doorstep of his old home. He hadn’t been back since you had kicked him out nearly five years ago. “What- what are you doing here?” You demand, glancing back into the house before looking at him nervously.

“You stood me up!” He whines and stomps his foot when he sees you standing there on the doorway. “Why? I- It’s been years that we have met up today. Hell, I turned down a goddamn movie for you - my manager said it was a possible Oscar winner - and you’re here. I want an explanation.” He demands, crossing his arms as he glares at you.

“That was today?” Your eyes widen, having lost track of the days but that’s easy to do now. “Shit, I meant to text you.” You had been planning on texting him and telling him that you felt like you needed to end the meetups on your anniversary. “Why did you turn down a role? I never asked you to do that. I would never-“ From behind you, there is a loud squawk, making your eyes widen even more because you know that’s just the beginning. Immediately followed up by the loud, frantic cry of your son, demanding to be fed like he’s been starving, rather than just waking up from his nap. “Shit.” You turn around and leave Dieter standing in the doorway. Knowing your son is more important than your ex husband’s tantrum.

Dieter’s eyes widen when he hears the baby cry. It takes a moment to sink in, the baby is yours. He shakes his head and steps into the house after you when you rush off, leaving the door open. He walks into the living room to find you coddling a baby. It’s tiny, definitely newborn. His eyes widen and his heart breaks, expecting a man to come out into the living room at any moment. “I- I didn’t know you’d moved on.”

“What?” You are busy trying to soothe the baby, the bottle that you had gotten ready earlier was waiting for him. He hadn’t latched properly and you hated missing out on breastfeeding but it was better that he ate. You were pumping, so that was helping. Looking up, you find Dieter staring at you with a sense of hurt and anger. “Moved on- are you- oh….” You finally figure out that he doesn’t understand. “Dieter…this is our son.” You admit quietly. “He’s three months old. We- uh, my birth control failed.” You hadn’t been with anyone else for some time before meeting with Dieter and definitely not after. Your son could only be his child.

Dieter’s eyes widen when he steps closer to the feeding baby, watching him drink the milk, and he recognizes his features mixed with yours. “No.” He gasps, shaking his head, “no. I- fuck. It can’t have failed. It can’t have. I’m not - I can’t be a father. I can’t - shit.” He’s having a panic attack now, hyperventilating as he stares at the baby in your arms.

You stare at Dieter in shock, never expecting him to react like this, although you never planned on telling him. “Breathe.” You order him softly, heart breaking when you take a step towards him only to have Dieter jump back like you are attacking him. “Dee, you need to breathe.”

“No! No!” He shouts, shaking his head as he backs up even more. “I can’t be a father. I can’t. I’m not - I’m not good enough. I can’t do it.” He chokes, knowing his worst nightmare has come true.

That pisses you off and you glare at him. “You are not a father.” You hiss. “You are a sperm donor. You aren’t on his birth certificate. I’m not going after you for child support. This is my child, not yours. I am a single mother.”

Dieter narrows his eyes as the panic recedes, “good. I didn’t want to be a fucking father anyway. I see now how it is between us.” He’s hurt that you didn’t even tell him when you found out you were pregnant. “Get the fuck on with your life, sweetheart.” He growls and storms out of your house. He’s hurt and upset and he needs to get lost in booze and drugs. He can’t be reminded of what he’s lost. The price he’s had to pay for his career, for his fame. He won’t ever be able to be who he once was, who you met. That eager, young wannabe actor from Oregon. He’s never going to be that guy again. He’s an Oscar-winning actor. He’s Dieter fucking Bravo.

The door slamming makes your son cry out again, you jumping slightly at the sound but he soon settles down to hungrily gulp down the bottle again. “I’m sorry, baby.” You coo to your son, trying not to cry. “I’m - I didn’t think he would- I’m trying to protect you.” It might be wrong, but you know how Dieter can be, his reaction just proved it. You don’t regret having his child, you get to keep a piece of the man you love and the alimony more than covers your expenses. You’ll be fine and so will he. Without Dieter.

****

Dieter has lost track of the drugs he’s taken, the amount of booze he’s drunk. He doesn’t remember most of it but he can’t get the image of you holding the baby out of his mind. It’s early morning, he hasn’t slept, and he can’t take it anymore. He gets in his car, barely sober enough to drive, and he makes his way over to your house, stumbling up to the door and ringing the doorbell.

Groaning, you turn your head to look at the clock, huffing when you see how early it is. Wondering who the hell is at your door and tempted to ignore it when the bell rings again. “Shit, shit.” You huff, dragging yourself out of the bed after a rough night with your son to go down the stairs and open the door, not caring that you are only wearing your nightgown.

Dieter stumbles when you answer the door, eyes wide, and he falls to his knees. “Baby. Oh my baby. Let me - I fucked up. I didn’t want a divorce. I didn’t want to lose you. I fucked up. I miss you. I love you. I love you! Please, let me in our house!” He begs, loud enough that the neighbors can hear.

“Jesus, Dieter!” You hiss, looking around in embarrassment before looking down at the jumbled mess of a man at your feet. “Shut up, people are sleeping. Are you high?” You demand, wanting to know if he’s hopped up on chemicals.

“No. I’m not. I- I had a few drinks. I- I can’t lose you. Please. I couldn’t - I don’t want to lose you baby. I need you. I need you to be my wife again. I want…I want to be a father. I don’t want to abandon my family anymore. I’m sick of it. Hollywood. The people. The drugs. The - the fucking fake bullshit. I don’t want it. I shouldn’t have thrown you away for it.” He sobs, tears now streaming down his cheeks.

Dieter looks pitiful and yet you see the honesty and desperation that is seeping out of his eyes. Looking up at you and begging you to believe him. “You- Dieter, I don’t want to be with a man who is going to cheat on me.” You caution. “Especially since I have Robin. I can’t raise him in a household that is chaotic.”

He shakes his head, “I am done. No one compares to you. No one makes me feel like you do. I want you, only you, and - Robin? You - you named him Robin?” He swallows harshly at hearing his son’s name.

“I did.” You nod. “Robin Harrison Bravo.” You had given him Dieter’s last name since you had never changed yours after the divorce. You had wanted the extra connection to his father but honestly never expected there to be a relationship between your son and the man who helped create him.

He shakes his head, knowing he’s messed everything up. He has destroyed any chance he had at having this family with you. “Baby. I- I’ll go. I - I know I’m not good enough to be a father, to have a second chance to be your husband. I’ll go.” He stumbles as he stands up, swaying from the emotions and the booze.

“Dieter-“ You reach out and grab ahold of his arm. “You are in no shape to go anywhere.” You frown. “You shouldn’t have even tried to come over in the condition you are in. Come inside. I’ll make some coffee and we can talk?”

He sobs, letting you drag him inside your home - his old home - he remembers choosing it with you after he got his first major movie deal. He was so excited to be able to provide for you…finally. After you helped him, supported him emotionally and financially through his desperate attempt to make it in Hollywood. He remembers making love to you on every surface, even painting the bedroom with you since you said he’s a good painter and you didn’t want to spend money on a decorator, you wanted to do it all yourself despite him offering to pay someone. He slumps down on the sofa, watching you walk into the kitchen to get him some water.

You sigh, setting up the coffee maker for a pot and grabbing a bottle of water along with a muffin since you don’t know the last time Dieter has eaten. Bringing it back to set down on the coffee table, you pat his leg. “I’ll make a bottle since I am anticipating Robin waking up soon. We had a long night last night.”

“You did?” He asks breathlessly, opening the bottle of water to down half of it, wanting to be somewhat sober for this time he has with you before you send him away. “I- I don’t want you to do this alone.” He admits, “I want a chance to be his father.”

“You can’t half ass it, Dee.” You warn him, not being nearly as harsh as he deserves. “You’ve already said you didn’t want to be a father and now you do? What’s changed? Is this some kind of mid life crisis bender? Afraid of being alone? Our son isn’t a pet that can be ignored when you’re bored or you want to snort Coke off a model’s ass.”

“I know. I know he isn’t. I don’t want to snort coke anymore. I- I don’t want to act anymore. I- I want to produce. I don’t want to be away from you…or our son. I’m old. I just want to settle down and be with my family…if you’ll still have me. I love you. I’ve always loved you. It’s always been you. I have never wanted anyone like you. I want you. I love you. Please, give me another chance. I was selfish, an asshole, but I’m sick of being selfish. I wanna be your husband again.”

You sit down and reach out to take his hand. “Is that what you really want?” You ask softly, aware that you shouldn’t give him another chance, but you still love him. You’ve always loved him and despite it being a bad idea, you don’t know if you would ever stop. “You want to be together again? Just me and you? No one else?”

Dieter squeezes your hand, “I want you and I want Robin. Nothing else. I don’t want the fame, or the drugs, or the lovers. I want my wife. I miss you. I- I have never spent a night in a bed with anyone but you. Anyone I’ve slept with…I’ve always kicked them out before I went to sleep. I’ve only ever held you in bed. It’s only ever been you. I wake up in the middle of the night and reach for you. I love you baby. So much.”

You can’t help the tears that slip down your face. Wishing that you had heard all of this years ago but happy to hear it now. “I- I love you too. So much. It’s why I was so fucking hurt. You ripped my heart out, Dieter.” You confess softly. “But- I want to give us another chance. With therapy. And a prenup with a cheating clause.”

Hearing you say you want to give him another chance makes his heart pounding and he leans in to nudge his nose against yours, not wanting to kiss you without permission. “I love you. I’ll do whatever you want. Therapy. Prenup. I just want you and our son.” He promises, kissing your forehead as you lean against him.

You sigh quietly and close your eyes. “Are you sure you’re not saying this because I didn’t show up for our yearly hate fucking date?” You joke, wishing that this had happened years ago, that you had him around when you were carrying Robin.

Dieter shakes his head, “I mean, I did book our normal suite so we could have sex but no, I’m not just saying it. It’s…it’s been on my mind for months, remembering how we used to be. I miss you. I am still in love with you no matter how high I get, how drunk I get, or how I try to bury myself in someone else. It’s always been you.

“And I love you no matter how many times I slap your face, call you a bastard or insult your prowess in bed.” You huff, laughing at yourself. “I’ve - I kept all our photos together. They are in the attic but I couldn’t get rid of them.” You confess. “I couldn’t get rid of you.”

Dieter smiles, leaning closer to you. “Can I kiss you?” He asks softly and you nod, looking into those dark brown eyes. He brushes his lips against yours, cupping your cheek, and he sighs when your lips meet his, eager to kiss him. It’s like coming home after being away for so damn long.

****

The front door opens and Robin just lights up, fully aware of what that means as he drops the toys in his hands and screams, “Daddy!”, as loud as he can. The joy blooming over his face as Dieter rushes through the door and throws his keys down into the bowl on the entryway table. You smile as your son can’t quite speed over to his daddy on steady legs but Dieter is the one who is running into the living room to scoop Robin up into a big hug.

“There’s my boy.” There’s kissing and squealing as your heart stops when Dieter tosses Robin up in the air. Of course he catches him, but you always worry.

“How was your day?” You ask, standing up to quickly pick up the living room of the toys since dinner was already in the oven. Dieter had moved back in almost immediately and true to his word, he had changed completely to put you and your son first.

“Boring as ‘shit’.” He mouths the curse word, “director is being an ‘asshole’ who wants us to produce the world's most expensive movie.” Dieter rolls his eyes, knowing his new job as a producer was hard but it kept him in town and allowed him to have normal working hours to be with his family while still allowing him to indulge in his passion and career. “Hey buddy. You been good for your mama today?” Dieter asks Robin, who wraps his arms around his father to hug him. “How’s he been?” Dieter asks you, knowing the little boy can be too much to handle sometimes.

“Energetic.” You laugh. “I’m really thinking that we need to get a playset in the backyard soon.” You tell Dieter. “He’s always wanting to go to the park and spend all day.” There’s a park down the road, but maybe a set away from the pool would be a good idea. “But he was really good.”

“We can order you a play set, huh little man? Daddy will order it tomorrow and set it up.” Dieter has discovered he’s surprisingly handy. Robin cheers and Dieter grins, kissing his son’s cheek. “Come on bud, I gotta say hello to mama.” He sets the little boy down and he smirks as he walks over to you, cupping your cheeks. “Hi, Mrs. Bravo.” He coos, pressing his lips to yours while Robin rushes over to grab his toy car.

“Hi.” You grin at your husband, having renewed your legal commitment to each other quietly at the courthouse a few months ago. He had wanted to make sure that adding him to Robin’s birth certificate went well and you didn’t want to deny him. Pulling back, you wrap your arms around his neck and look at him lovingly. “I’m happy you’re home.” You coo softly.

“Me too baby. Listen…” He trails his fingers along your arm, “it’s our wedding anniversary this Friday. I booked our usual suite at the Beverly and your mom said she would come and stay the night to look after Robin…what do you say sweetheart? Wanna recreate our sexy times?” He murmurs, kissing along your neck.

You whimper, knowing it would be nice to have sex without worrying about waking Robin up. “Let’s do it. Are you ready to hate fuck me, baby?” You tease and Dieter smirks, “I love hate fucking you, baby. Always have.” He winks and pulls you close, relieved to have his wife back in his arms, to have his son laughing as he plays with his toy truck. Dieter was always chasing the next best thing when he was first married to you but now he knows that the best thing was right there all along.

#pedro pascal #dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo smut #dieter bravo imagine #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo the bubble

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leclerced · 10 months

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Adding onto the Lance not liking to eat bunny out and a growing hate of Lance for Lando.

Bunny comes stomping back into their hotel room after a night with Lance and finds Lando on the bed and when he puts his phone down to address her standing frame in front of him he’s immediately thrown off because instead of looking fucked out and satisfied she looks frustrated and annoyed.

And without any hesitation bunny just goes “can u please eat me out?”

And while Lando is a bit taken back who is he to deny his girl? But of course he needs to make sure Lance even made her come at all, because this is about her pleasure as well. And Bunny says that he did make her come on his cock but all she wanted was his mouth on her and he simply said “I don’t eat girls out” and continued to finger her before moving on to fucking her.

Lando is pissed and he and oscar will definitely be taking a trip to Lances room once he takes care of bunny and Oscar finishes his shower.

Fast forward Oscar comes out of the bathroom to find Bunny crying and sobbing over Lando’s face, her fingers are holding onto the headboard for dear life as Lando makes her come for the third time.

He just sits back and enjoys the show but once his lovers part he smirks at the look on bunnies face and so does Lando, knowing that’s the kind of look she should have anytime she comes back from one of the other drivers.

With a glistening mouth Lando tells Oscar to get dressed because they have to pay Lance a visit. After getting bunny tucked in they head to Lance and give him a nice talking to about how he needs to put bunny first and not himself and then queue the group chat drama :)

lance not eating pussy is my fav blindfold universe headcanon it just makes sense and is so funny 😭

she comes back in tears which like they’re used to her coming back w tear stained cheeks when max is done w her but she’s always got a blissed out smile on her face and is giggling as she crawls into bed between lando and oscar. but this time she looks in pain and lando’s immediately concerned and is ab to get up and make oscar get out of the shower so they can beat lance’s ass but then she asks him to go down on her, practically begging for it as she crawls onto his lap and hes like ok. lance can wait. oscar can shower. i have to take care of my girl.

and oscar watching afterwards like he would want to be involved, he sees her on top of lando and is immediately wanting to get his hands and mouth on her too but he’d wait patiently. as soon as lando is sliding out from under her oscar’s ready to take his place, but before he can even touch her lando’s shaking his head and telling him to get dressed and he starts to complain and then lando’s like “you can have your turn when we get back. lance apparently doesn’t eat pussy.” and oscars shell shocked bc ?? what

lance is alr asleep when they arrive and they’d be banging on the door as loud and hard as possible, not a simple two or three knock, both their fists are slamming into the door until it finally opens and lance is standing there rubbing his eyes confused as hell. the commotion would wake the drivers around them and they peek out of their rooms just in time to catch lando and oscar both berating lance, talking over each other, asking what the fuck is wrong w him?? lance can’t even get a word in and it’s probably five minutes of them bickering and no one knows why until oscar says “i mean literally who doesn’t eat pussy?” and suddenly everyone who was eavesdropping is stepping out in the hallway like hang on lance. it was ur night with bunny wasn’t it? wdym you don’t eat pussy wtf else are u doing to her? then someone is texting the gc and saying “just found out lance doesn’t eat pussy” and then ppl not on their floor are making their way down and giving lance a piece of his mind. most humiliating would be lewis coming down to give him an earful and seb calling him while someone else is chiding him and being like listen i know we aren’t teammates anymore and i didn’t even like u when we were. what the HELL is wrong with you that ur not eating her pussy? u better be glad im not there.

lando and oscar go back to bunny after they realize all the guys in the gc are out in the hall waiting to get a piece of lance 😭

#ask #anon #blindfold universe #canon friendly blindfold universe

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gingeredmink · 7 months

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what are your age hcs for tatsuki and soutarou? and misc hcs for urotsuki?

Gonna be blunt, head is a cluttered junkyard and I'm a rambler with zero self control when right conditions are met [you ask about Special Interests]. plus am tired and really out of it from work cause we had inventory and i ordered too many lunchables [oscar mayer can go to hell]. Will do best to make this coherent, or at least intelligible, but apologies if it's a bit of a mess.

Age Headcanons [If we're going for what they are in game]

Short answer: Soutarou is late 20s-early 30s, Tatsuki ranges between 15-18. [tho ofc when I draw shippy stuff it's an AU and they're both early 20s]

Long answer: Actually thought about this on and off a decent bit and could never really get more than a vague, "Somewhere around this area" for them.

Soutarou is somewhere between late 20s and early 30s. He's old enough to have experienced some shit, try to get clean and back on his feet and get some manual labor experience, and have that ripped from him. Plus some time to isolate and have those thoughts wreck havoc on his mental state.

Tatsuki on the other hand is messier and harder to really give an age to. They could be a kid escaping into fairy tales to avoid reality, or a young adult [18-20] that was forced to grow up too fast and is now suffering from dealing with their fractured identity [have thought about Debris endings occurring around Tats 18th birthday, because they have the "You're not a child, so why do you hold onto such stupid childish fantasies?" thoughts to go on top of everything else and it sorta just breaks them.]

Misc Uro Headcanons

Big Deep angsty Uro hc/kinda what shapes her core for me

You might've heard the quote, “I think the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it’s like to feel absolutely worthless and they don’t want anyone else to feel like that." by Robin Williams. This more or less summarizes my view of Urotsuki at the core. She may not be weighed down by what other dreamers have gone through, but she knows what it's like to be trapped in darkness and though it may not show, she is doing her best to make others happy because she doesn't want others to go through that. [side note: this is huge part of reason for shipping her with Tatsuki. Feel like they'd be the same, tho Tats is way more introverted. That angsty, "You see through the smiles or notice the little things and softly nudge me to say you understand and are there." sorta thing].

Going off that; for the longest time have hc'd that Uro has struggled with an ED and self image issues in the past and a big part of why she loves food and is okay with being herself, and is so supportive of others doing the same, is because she had to fight to get to where she is and is doing her best to make sure others can simply see the joy in life without experiencing the hell she went through.

More lighthearted/Uro's a goofball hcs

Uro is somewhat lactose intolerant but keeps getting sick because she won't. fucking. stop. eating cheese. Or questionable foods in general. "It smells alright so it's probably fine." [narrator voice: It wasn't fine] sorta things.

Probs mentioned this one before but eh, Uro and Sou are one of few dreamers with a drivers license, and Uro's driving doesn't exactly leave most passengers feeling safe so Sou is constantly stepping in when she offers people a ride. The two bicker at each other like an old couple a surprisingly good bit when eyes aren't on them. This paired with them both being older and able to get drunk makes for quite a scene. [Sabi's laughing, Tats is on the floor trying and failing to hide it.]

She did have a dedicated dream diary at some point, but during a depressive period would start to fill and decorate it with random stuff [silly doodles, poems, stickers , ect], and it's now more like a thought scrapbook or therapeutic outlet for her. Pages that are just her jotting down memories that make her happy have little sticky note bookmarks so she can flip through them when feeling down.

Her head is a mess and all over the place, and her counting sheep is like a ritual she semi-depends on to fall asleep since it gets her to focus on one thing and relax [its a sorta behavioral dependency that if she was somehow barred from doing, she'd probs stress out and not be able to sleep.]

Hope you enjoyed or were at least satisfied with rambling anon ◠⸜⸝◠~

#rayns asks #ynfg #soutarou #tatsuki #urotsuki #yume nikki fangame

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nicolesainz · 2 years

Text

Pretty cute, if you ask me (LN 4)

Lando Norris x reader

Warnings: extreme fluff

Special dedication @freedaxf1 !! I hope you like it. This one’s for ya! If you have any other requests lmk. Love you!

Summary: Hints everywhere. Cheeks flushed and heart beating. Everyone has picked up on your feelings towards Lando, but do they know the truth yet?

“I sometimes regret having you around. I enjoy my peace and quiet during the weekends” I let out a defeated sigh as I remove my headsets.

“You only enjoy it because you get to be alone with mister McLaren” Fertwell comments as he nudges me playfully.

“Truly wrong judgement here, Max. Try again maybe” i roll my eyes

“Oh no she’s lying. They are both attached to each other, I still don’t understand how he managed to even do a few proper laps during free practices” the former McLaren driver, Daniel Ricciardo, adds, fueling the interest of my other friends.

“We should definitely attend the races more often. We are being excluded from the best moments” Ria smirks lustily at me, making my cheeks flush

“It’s the first time I’ve head a driver sing so much during free practices on the radio to his friend. He’s the only one who’s done it and probably will continue to be” the Australian drops another hint, sparks amongst the group being lighten.

“Since Y/N, refuses to tell us the truth, please Daniel, give us more details. What is my adorable baby sis doing around Norris, when we aren’t in sight” my older sister almost begs ex McLaren driver to be a inside source.

“There’s nothing to say for the love of god!” I shout at the same time as the mechanics work on Oscar’s car, getting it ready for another session.

“It will be the first time I’ll believe anyone else but you sis, sorry!”

“How do you explain the multiple pictures and stories then? Your gallery has more pictures of Lando than anyone else!” Daniel keeps pushing my buttons as if he’s doing it on purpose, which he is

“That’s not true! I just like to share things.” I shrug my shoulders as Max scrolls through his phone and shoves it on my face

“It’s the 5th story you’ve posted with Lando this week. I’m not buying it, Y/N”

“I don’t get why I have to alert you about anything that happens in my life”

that’s wrong! I tell them everything that happens in my life. Everything except one thing.

“Fine! Don’t tell us. I’ll ask Oscar. Rookie will be too much under pressure not to blurt anything.” My sister is almost threatening me to the point it scares

“And what if he doesn’t? You’ll go to Zak? Or his race engineer? They say curiosity killed the cat!”

I’m trying to hide the fact that nervousness runs through my entire body. Oscar is easily persuaded and knowing my sister, he’ll tell her whatever she desires to find.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen that Ma-“ I grab Oscar’s arm and move us somewhere farther away from my friends who were now occupied talking to Daniel.

“No need to be aggressive. Are you alright?” The new Aussie asked me, worried about my anxious presence.

“If my sister asks you anything about Lando, I beg you to not say anything. Even if she bribes you.”

“I wasn’t planning on saying anything but sure! I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thank you! You’re the best” I give him a quick hug before letting him go and running off to the group I left behind

As I was approaching them, I saw Lando moving towards them as well. Oh fuck.

“Hey guys, hey baby” he welcomes everyone and lands a soft kiss on my cheek, while wrapping his arm around my waist. I could feel my whole face turning red

“I KNEW IT!” My sister exclaims loudly

“You’re a very bad liar Y/N” Max continues

“Hey, leave my girlfriend alone. She’s a shy one” Lando bites back playfully and gives me the sweetest look of comfort.

“Now you know why I post about Lando regularly. And why I want my peace.”

“Yeah, I will agree to the second one. Someone had forgotten their mic on and I could hear the whole conversation. Try to be more discreet next time” Lando tries to hold back a laugh, as a look of horror covers my whole face to the idea that everyone could have heard this

“Aww, don’t worry love. I only heard it. No one else. Our little secret is safe. Also I found it pretty cute if you ask me”

#lando norris #lando norris one shot #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #lando norris fic #lando norris fluff #mclaren #formula 1

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coco-loco-nut · 4 days

Text

007 - part two

pairing: oscar x reader

summary: maybe a soulmate isn’t the worst thing to happen to you

masterlist part one part three requests open

——————

Oscar sent you a text that night. He was a little disappointed when it took you a couple days to reply, but that was quickly made up when you sent a time and location. The mystery around you is thrilling to him.

You wait in the corner of a cafe for Oscar, sipping a flat white. Your eyes immediately find him when he walks in, locked in on him. He quickly orders and makes his way to you. Oscar barely gets in a hello before you get down to business.

“I need you to know something before anything happens. I live a very dangerous life and I don’t plan on stepping away any time soon,” you leave certain things unsaid, like the very real chances of you dying. “It’s hard for the soulmates of those in my line of work. Suddenly the danger meter means more to them, and it can disrupt their lives,” you lean forward a little, subtly emphasizing how important it is.

“I’m a Formula One driver, I am familiar with the risk of dying. I know the risks associated with being your soulmate,” Oscar says and you bite back a remark about his job still being safer than yours. You need to try and be less standoffish.

“Right. Well, I can’t say that I know how to proceed with this. I’m a bit new to the whole thing,” you are a little embarrassed.

“I am too. We can handle it together,” Oscar smiles. He wants to reach across the table to hold your hand, but he doesn’t want to push it so he sips his coffee. “Tell me more about you, all I know is that you do a really dangerous job,” Oscar prompts you.

“Bold statement coming from someone who also has a really dangerous job. I really enjoy traveling, dislike paperwork. When I’m not working, I like reading or taking small trips. Um, I have a cat who is the light of my life,” you pause as Oscar lets out a laugh. “Tell me more about you, more than what your background check tells me,” Oscar sees the playful glimmer in your eye.

“Well, I’ve been getting into cricket and basketball. When I was a kid, I went through this phase where I thought I was a car,” Oscar admits.

“I would always sneak around as a kid, acting like a spy. I guess both of our childhood fantasies worked out,” you hide your bittersweet feelings. Oscar notices but doesn’t push it.

“So I guess you would be the Holly Shiftwell to my Lightning McQueen,” Oscar tries to bring up your mood but you give him confused look.

“But they were never romantic partners?” you say, a little confused with how happy Oscar looks. He’s just happy you have seen the movies and seem to like them enough.

“Semantics. What are you doing now that you aren’t chasing down criminals in the paddock?”

“You mean your soulmate? I’m being forced to take a break from missions right now. Apparently I’ve been hogging all the action and need to help in HQ for a few months,” your distaste for the orders is clear on your face.

“You can join me at a race. If you want to,”

“Really? I don’t want to be a distraction and I don’t know anything about Formula One,” you hesitate, not wanting to impose.

“I want you there. Who better to teach you the sport than me?” Oscar reassures you.

“Well, I guess I will have to take you up on it,” you take the little leap of faith. It’s not something you would normally do. But your soulmate is worth it… right?

You and Oscar agree to a race that is around a month later, giving you time to get to know each other and for him to teach you different aspects of the sport. The month still doesn’t seem to be enough as you arrive at your first race as his soulmate.

“Hey,” Oscar pulls you into a hug as you stand at his hotel room door. He presses a kiss to your forehead before taking your bag as you walk in.

“How was media?” you ask, making yourself comfortable on the bed beside him. It’s clear that he hastily straightened up the room when he got back from free practice.

“Boring, I was counting down the minutes until you got here,” he wraps his arms around you, holding you close as you hum in response. You relax into his warmth, taking in the familiar scent that you’ve found comfort in.

“I couldn’t wait to get out of the office too,” you admit a few moments later. You left a little early to catch a flight here for the weekend.

“Still stuck on paperwork? I must admit, it’s nice not having your danger meter spike,” Oscar murmurs, a little sleepy.

“What’s on your mind?” Oscar observes your distant look when you don’t immediately reply, having learned how to read you more.

“What would you say if I left my job?” you say quietly, almost a whisper. Oscar sits up, needing to properly look at you.

“I’d be a little confused because you love it, but ultimately it’s your choice,” Oscar says, silently asking you to elaborate.

“Well, as soon as someone finds out who I am my cover is blown, putting both of us at risk. It’s a lonely life, and when it was only Boots and me that was okay, but I don’t want to be alone anymore,” you admit, not expecting to feel emotional about it.

“I’ll support you either way, but I don’t want you to quit just for me. What would you do if you left?” he asks, feeling a little guilty.

“The longer I stay in action, the more dangerous my missions will be. Most of mine before didn’t interact with targets, but things will get more dangerous from here. It’s what I’ve worked for my whole life. As for what I would do if I left…” you pause for a second, letting Oscar absorb everything. “Well, your security is seriously lacking, and as your soulmate I think I should do something about that. I was also offered a higher up position that would take me out of action for good,”

“Having my own personal security guard who is also my soulmate? That could be dangerous,” somehow you don’t think Oscar means the kind of danger that would raise your meters.

“Oscar!” Your cheeks flush as you bite back a laugh, acting scandalized. “Alright, I’m going to shower before bed,” you slide out of his arms, looking back at him, knowing what he is about to suggest. “No, you can’t join,” you laugh as he pouts. You two aren’t there yet, but he is proud at how comfortable you are around him.

Oscar leaves early in the morning for free practice, promising to meet you at the gates when you arrive for qualifying. You happily take the extra time to sleep.

Qualifying is your test run. You get a feel for the team and race environment while keeping a low profile. Arriving for the race is a different thing.

“Ready?” Oscar asks as he parks at the circuit. He looks so cozy in his hoodie, and to be fair, you woke him up half an hour before having to leave.

“Yeah, let’s go,” you nervously smile. You are never nervous, but this is different. You are dressed fashionably, but nothing that makes you stand out too much. Your dark sunglasses help hide some of your features as you walk in on Oscars arm. You both look happy as you walk in, and the media notices.

“Oscar!” Logan calls him over, you recognize the American from your initial background check.

“Hey. This is my soulmate, Y/n. Y/n, this is my best friend, Logan,” Oscar introduces both of you.

“Hi, it’s nice to actually meet you,” you hug Logan, taking him by surprise.

“Aww, you talk about me?” Logan coos at Oscar.

“You came up in her background check on me,” Oscar says causing Logan to let go of your hug.

“Weird, but I like it. We are going to be great friends, Leiter and Bond,” Logan rolls with it. He remembers the first time Oscar mentioned you and that’s enough for him.

“You are a sexier James Bond, license to kill and all,” Oscar chimes in, trying to flirt and joke at the same time.

“Oh baby, no. That is nothing like what we do,” you accidentally slip up, and Logan’s eyes widen.

“I thought you were joking. I will keep this to myself though. That’s so cool. Can we watch those movies together?” Logan quickly says, not wanting you to worry. Your initial coolness that Oscar described to him over the past month makes more sense to him now.

“We should get going, I don’t want Zak and Andrea to get mad,” Oscar says, leading both of you away.

“This is the McLaren motorhome, you are welcome to sit in the drivers lounge or in my room while I am in the meeting. Afterwards, I can introduce you to Charles and his girlfriend,” Oscar offers as you look around.

“They should have better security here,” you tut, looking at all the different ways you could easily get in.

“Don’t worry, other teams aren’t coming in and stealing our secrets,” Oscar kisses the side of your head as he leads you upstairs to his drivers room.

“I could always do some recon,” you slyly smile, anything to help him win.

“That’s okay, I don’t need that to win. I have you motivating me,” he smiles, one which falters as a man with brown curly hair comes barreling towards you.

“OSCAR! Is this her? Hi, I’m Lando,” the man, Lando, says, extending his hand.

“Y/n,” you coolly reply, defenses going up as he pulls you into a hug once you take his hand. Oscar can tell you are uncomfortable, Lando springing himself on you.

“Let me help her get settled and I will be down,” Oscar says, cueing Lando to go to the meeting without him. “You are going to look Lando up, aren’t you?” he asks with an amused smile once you are in the safety of his room.

“Yeah, get ready for all his dirty laundry to be aired,” you lightly laugh.

“I look forward to it. I need more blackmail on him. I’ll see you soon, this meeting won’t take long,” Oscar promises, leaving you alone. You spend the half hour he is away looking up his teammate and some other drivers.

“Did I do something wrong?” Lando asks Oscar on their way back to the drivers rooms.

“No, she just wasn’t expecting you. Y/n is pretty guarded around new people, it stems from her job. She will warm up to you,” Oscar replies, not wanting his teammate and soulmate to hate each other.

“Does she work for the government or something?” Lando jokes, a little too accurate.

“Or something, don’t worry about it,” Oscar says, excited to see you again. You wait at the door for Oscar.

“For a professional driver, you have a lot of traffic violations,” you tell Lando, who notices the amused glimmer in your eye and relaxes. Whatever you did during the meeting seems to have worked.

“I have the need for speed,” Lando smiles, happy that you’ve warmed up a little. “Wait, how did you-“

“Don’t worry about it, we will see you later,” Oscar cuts him off, taking you to Ferrari.

“So, Charles is your fake adoptive dad? He has a fairly clean record, I couldn’t find much on him,” you comb over what you learned in your mind.

“Oh, Max is going to love you. You both have cats and you could prep him for whoever he is meeting with,” Oscar laughs, glad that you are taking the time to know his coworkers even if it isn’t the traditional route.

“Max Verstappen? I don’t usually do hits, but I will take out his father for free if he wants,” the way you say it so casually causes Oscar to almost choke.

“I will let him know,” he says, a little unsure how one replies to that.

You are quick to befriend Charles and Alexandra, the latter offers for you to join her while watching the race. You politely decline, but promise to join another race. Oscar takes you around to some other drivers, including Max, before introducing you to more people at McLaren.

You settle into the garage as the race starts, nervous as you watch Oscar on a small screen. You are aware of cameras that are pointed at you, but you ignore them. They don’t know you, all they can do is speculate.

The race is going smoothly until lap 37. Oscar is fighting for position when you fell the sickening twinge of the meter on your arm increasing. Your eyes are glued to the screen as you listen to the team radio, feeling a pit in your stomach.

Carlos and Oscar made contact which at minimum punctured Oscar’s tires. You hear his frustration, but you are just glad that’s all it was.

“Check the front wing too,” you hear him say after confirming he’s okay. He makes it back to the garage safely due to the incident being close to pit lane, but they retire his car due to other damage. Oscar seems too calm to you as he exits the car. Even you would show more emotion in that scenario.

Oscar’s eyes meet yours and before you know it, you are on your feet walking to him. He wraps you in a hug and you gently rub his back. You hold each other for a minute, taking a moment ground each other.

“You okay?” you practically yell over the noise and he just nods, guiding you out of the garage.

“That’s not the win I wanted to give you,” Oscar sighs as you walk back to his room after he gets weighed.

“I hope I’m not bad luck,”

“Never. You are good luck, that should’ve been worse than it was,” Oscar reassures you. A small part of him is happy to be spending time with you.

“I’m sorry your race ended like that, you were driving so well,” you frown, as Oscar squeezes your hand.

“Nothing I can do now, next race is a new opportunity. I have to go do media, do you want to watch the rest in McLaren?” Oscar asks, wanting to know where to find you later.

“I’ll go to Ferrari and watch with Alexandra,” you decide, needing to have friends around here. Oscar nods, leading you to your new friend. He kisses you goodbye before you walk in.

“Hey, are you okay? Those are scary, no matter how minor,” Alexandra greets you when she notices you.

“Yeah. Osc is fine, I’m just upset for him,” you shrug. You’ve seen your partners in danger on missions, but this is a whole different ballgame.

“Grab a seat, want a coffee?” she asks, making sure you are comfortable.

“No, but maybe you can teach me better than Oscar,” you watch her face light up as she immediately dives into sharing her knowledge, explaining everything to you as it happens.

“Come and meet some of the others. Oscar will be pulled into meetings,” Alexandra says, pulling you away from Ferrari.

“Shouldn’t you be with Charles? He must be looking for you,”

“He can wait,” Alexandra waves your concern off as you galavant around the paddock.

Your great experience with the WAGs further conflicted you if you wanted to stay or leave your job. And it all came to a head when you were brought in on an emergency mission once you returned from your weekend away.

This might be your most dangerous recon mission yet. Your part is simple on paper, get in, copy the digital files, get out. It wasn’t simple in execution.

You just skimmed the files, getting crucial information that will stop the operation. Now for the hard part - getting out and getting away.

You slip out of the room, when you hear footsteps getting closer and closer. Just like the stereotype, you slide around a corner and hold your breath, praying they don’t turn your way. They are so close you can feel their body heat beside you. You focus on remaining calm, but this is the most on edge you’ve ever been. You close your eyes as you feel your stomach drop.

This is it. You can see Oscar’s face as he opens his driver room door, two agents standing outside. The agents are solemn as they deliver the news - you were captured and killed on a mission. Every word, every moment is played perfectly in your mind. And your cat, Oscar will have to take care of Boots, a constant reminder of you.

Oscar sits in his post FP2 meeting when it happens, feeling the sickening feeling of your danger meter telling him you were in danger. After it being normal for the past few days, his stomach drops at how high it is.

“I need five,” Oscar runs out like he’s about to puke. You promised in your hastily written letter that you’d try to be safe, but all you really said that you had to leave, couldn’t take your phone, and it was an emergency. He naively thought that you wouldn’t be in the field, that you were just needed on the sidelines. He wasn’t completely wrong, you helped from the side for everything but your part in the operation.

“Oscar? Hey, are you okay?” Lando asks, walking into the room where Oscar disappeared to.

“I- I don’t know,” Oscar looks at his arm, silently pleading for the meter to go down. Lando sees it and just sits beside Oscar.

“Wanna talk about it?” Lando says after a few seconds of silence.

“She left a few days ago with only a note and her cell phone behind. Got an emergency call while I was out. Poor Boots, he must miss his mom. And I know she’s not abandoning me, but I think I finally know how my mom feels about my career,” Oscar says after a minute.

“I assume she’s in the military, or like, a detective to be in danger, and that’s pretty badass of her. I know she came off as cold initially to a lot of us, except when she’s with you and some of the girls, but I can tell that she really likes you. And she seems like she holds her own,” Lando starts listing everything he likes about you from the couple interactions you had during the race day. It helps distract Oscar, calming him little by little.

You step around the corner as soon as the voices fade and come face to face with a security guard. You quickly land a few punches, knocking him out. In the moment you are grateful for your disguise and the cameras that are currently disabled thanks to your team. As you quickly exit the building, you notice another guard tailing you. You quickly get into your getaway car, turning it on and pressing the throttle. It lurches under you, making a hasty exit as they chase you.

Glances in the rear view mirror tell you that you aren’t out of the woods yet. You send a small prayer that Oscar’s talent will be enough as you speed down the street. The car just isn’t fast enough, you are being hunted and the hunter keeps creeping closer and closer. Once again you hope your luck hasn’t run out as you will the car to go just a little faster.

Lando stays seated beside Oscar, trying not to stare at the meter on his teammates arm. He watches the tears run down Oscar’s face as the meter creeps higher, higher, then drops.

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader

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