#‘oscar we want you to hold up the other drivers but don’t make it too obvious’
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This was such a perfect reaction
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100% Whipped : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: lando is happy to do just about anything for you, which the other drivers are more than happy to remind lando about too
Lando looked around in confusion as sniggers came from around the room, his fellow drivers all looked at him in disbelief, many shaking their heads as he spoke once again.
“There are other things we can talk about,” Max told him, smirking across at Lando opposite him. “We don’t constantly just have to talk about your girlfriend you know.”
Lando’s brows furrowed in confusion as several others nodded in agreement with Max. It was a habit of his, and one he didn’t realise he had either, but the rest of the boys were all too aware of just how much Lando loved to talk about you, to anyone who listened.
They couldn’t help but smile at how fondly Lando spoke of you, the way his smile turned up and his eyes got brighter whenever the conversation was about you. As much as they loved knowing that Lando was happy, they didn’t need telling quite as much as they currently were.
“I don’t just talk about her,” Lando argued, but as the others rolled their eyes, Lando wasn’t quite so confident that he didn’t talk about you as much as they all suggested.
Although he would never admit just how much he adored you, Lando knew that he had been falling hard for you. He loved to gush about you and make sure that everyone else got to see what he saw in you, how kind, caring and funny you were.
The rest of the paddock knew that anyway, but Lando liked to make extra sure that was the case with all of his stories about you.
“Every time she’s not at a race you sit and complain that she’s not there and how much you need her,” Oscar spoke up, “she’s all we talk about on a race weekend.”
“Or when she is there, you refuse to let her out of your sight because you want to make sure that she’s alright,” George added, smirking across at Lando, “you don’t let her lift a finger.”
More and more stories came out as the boys all interjected with the moments that they’d experienced with Lando, seeing firsthand just how in love with you he was.
“I’m just being a good boyfriend,” Lando tried to argue once they eventually fell silent, but even Lando was beginning to realise that he went above and beyond, constantly.
“I think you know how she’s going to spend her day better than she does,” Daniel responded, unable to hold back his laughter. “You used to tell me every day exactly what she was up to, almost as if you knew where she was minute by minute.”
“Really?” Lando asked in surprise, not realising quite how much attention to detail he paid when it came to what you were doing.
“You don’t even realise that you’re doing it half the time.”
Lando’s stature shrunk, sinking down in his seat. “I promise that I’m not as whipped as you guys all probably think I am, it’s not that bad.”
“You are,” Carlos stated, sending Lando a knowing look, “but I guess most of the time it is quite sweet.”
“Aside from the fact that you make the rest of us look like terrible boyfriends,” Charles added.
Lando struggled to hold back his smile, although it wasn’t a competition, he knew that the two of you were a popular couple around the paddock. He felt like he was the standard, showing the others how to take care of your girlfriend properly and not care about what anyone else had to say about it.
“I wonder if she realises how whipped you are for her or whether she’s just used to it all by now,” Oscar spoke up, looking pensively across at Lando.
“I think Y/N is just as whipped for him as Lando is for her,” Daniel very quickly argued, “you should’ve heard some of the conversations we had about him when I was on the team.”
A smile emerged on Lando’s face as some of the boys nodded in agreement again. They were used to listening to you talk about Lando just as much, talking through how amazing his races were time after time as if they hadn’t been there to experience it themselves.
“Would you guys like me to stop talking about Y/N so much?” Lando asked them all.
The group felt quite guilty as Lando stared seriously across at them all. They all knew that he meant it, glancing between themselves as their heads all shook back across at him.
“We’re only messing with you buddy,” George assured him, tapping against his shoulders, “maybe we just don’t need to know every single last detail about her.”
Lando nodded, smiling back across at George. “I’m sure I can tone it down a little bit, the last thing I need is you guys all thinking that I’m whipped.”
“Mate, we all definitely know that you are though.”
He could try to deny it all he wanted, but the boys all knew what he was like. It was something in him that they were never going to change, but as such a popular member of the team, it meant a lot to all of them to see how happy he was with you.
“Don’t even try and deny it,” Max called out as Lando went to speak again, “wear it with pride, some people would kill to have the sort of relationship that the two of you have.”
“Do you really think that?”
“Of course,” Max smiled back across at him, “you know we’re always going to find something to tease you about, you’re still very much the baby of the grid to all of us.”
It didn’t matter how old Lando was, the boys were all very protective of him, and as much as they took every chance to make fun of him, they’d never let anyone else say a bad word about him.
“You just continue to do you,” Carlos smiled as he met Lando’s eyes, “some of these guys are never going to even get a girlfriend, so at least you’ve got that over them at least.”
“None of you can ever mention this to her,” Lando told them all, “do you know how embarrassed she be knowing that you guys see us as whipped for one another.”
Just like Lando, you were very aware of how whipped he was for you, but if anyone suggested that you were whipped for him, then you would categorically deny it. You knew how much he’d do for you though, savouring the feeling of Lando willingly doing absolutely anything to support you.
“We’ll keep it between us,” Oscar promised him, “unless she keeps stealing the chocolate I keep in the garage for once the races are finished. If that carries on, I’m making no promises.”
“I’ll buy you more,” Lando assured him, “just don’t tell her how whipped I am, or how whipped you guys seem to think that I might be.”
“Just admit it,” Charles laughed, brushing a hand through his hair. “Admit that you’re whipped for her, it’s not like we don’t already know it already.”
“Will you leave me alone if I say it?” Lando asked them all.
“We promise to leave you alone for the rest of the night.”
“Fine, I am 100% whipped for my girlfriend.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 reaction#f1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 x you#lando norris drabble#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula one#f1 drabble#f1 fluff#f1 x you#f1 fic
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♡ You're Doing Amazing Sweetie | MV1
NEFERASKINGDOM
Summary: George finds out and the only thing Y/n can do is hide and pray that George doesn't take out Max on track.
PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT
Y/n paces anxiously near the monitors while Charles and Lando loiter as if they had all the time in the world. Charles had his arms crossed, his race suit tied around his waist, and Lando was demolishing a plate of snacks meant for the Ferrari engineers. Y/n had been hiding out in the Ferrari garage since the paddock opened to avoid crossing paths with George.
“Okay, tell me the truth—how screwed am I?” Y/n asks, whipping around to face them.
“Oh, monumentally,” Lando replies through a mouthful of cookie. “Like Titanic levels. Possibly Pompeii.”
Charles nods along solemnly. “Also George is definitely plotting something. He walked by earlier muttering to himself like a Bond villain.”
“Fuck” Y/n groans pacing faster.
“You do realize hiding here makes you look guiltier, right?” Lando says, biting into another cookie
Y/n glares at him. “What do you want me to do? Parade around the paddock with a sign that says ‘Yes George, I am the mother of Max Verstappen’s future spawn’?!”
Charles snorts so hard that his espresso nearly spills. “Please don’t. George would spontaneously combust.”
“Plus technically speaking this is your fault,” Lando says, jabbing a finger at her.
She raises an eyebrow. “My fault? I’m not the one who told the entire world, ‘If it weren’t for the baby.’”
“That part was clearly Max’s fault,” Lando interjects, not looking up from his plate. “But this whole ‘let’s date secretly’ thing? Yeah, I’m blaming you for that one.”
“Excuse me?” Y/n shoots back.
“Don’t get defensive,” Charles says, holding his hands up. “But we told you this would end in disaster. And now? Look at you. Hiding in my garage like some kind of fugitive because George looks like he’s ready to blow up Redbull’s hospitality. You should have told George the second you two realized your relationship was serious.”
Y/n groans, tugging at her hair. “What’s done is done and I can’t change that now can I? And I’m here because I obviously can’t stay at the Mercedes garage if I want to avoid my brother and staying at Redbull is a deathwish. Imagine what’ll happen if he catches us both in the same place. I just hope George doesn't do anything stupid in public”
“Why do you think we’re here?” Lando says, grinning as he gestures to himself and Charles. “We’re like the UN Peacekeepers of the paddock. We’ll keep them both separate and make sure nothing happens today.”
“Like that's very reassuring,” Y/n mutters.
As the drivers line up for the national anthem, Y/n stays glued to the monitors, trying to keep a low profile. George, however, was impossible to miss.
“Great,” she mutters to herself as the camera pans to him. His jaw was clenched, his expression thunderous. It looked like he was barely holding himself together.
Oscar was hovering near George, subtly blocking him every time he shifted toward Max. Y/n couldn’t help but feel sorry for the Aussie, who looked like he’d accidentally wandered into a battlefield.
From his other side, Lando was casually draping an arm over his shoulder as if trying to calm him down. Instead, it seems to piss off George even more as he tried to shrug him off with a sharp glare, but Lando remained latched on.
“Please let this be over,” Y/n pleads at the screen.
The tension only escalated as the drivers headed to their cars. George made one last attempt to corner Max, and Y/n’s heart leaped into her throat.
“Oh no. Oh no. Don’t do it,” she whispered at the screen.
Oscar, ever the unwilling mediator, once again intercepted George, his hands up in a placating gesture. Y/n let out a relieved breath as George backed off, though he still looked furious.
She slumped back into her seat, her nerves frayed.
“Just one race,” she muttered to herself. “One race without drama. Is that too much to ask for?”
The drivers climbed into their cars, and the screen cut to the grid formation. Y/n felt a brief moment of peace, knowing that for the next couple of hours, George and Max would be too busy driving to tear into each other.
f1teaspill posted:
f1teaspill: Tensions are at an all-time high after today’s race! George Russell’s post-race interview took a dramatic turn when a journalist brought up Max’s cryptic baby comment and rumors about George’s sister. 😱 After repeatedly trying to dodge the question, George snapped, delivered a firm warning about personal boundaries, and stormed off.
The paddock drama just keeps escalating. Fans spotted George glaring at Max throughout the national anthem, and it seems like Oscar and Lando had to play paddock security to keep the peace. What’s your take on all this chaos? 🍼👀
Post-Race Interview Transcript:
Journalist: George, P5 today—a decent result to round out the season. Can you walk us through how you’re feeling about the race and the team’s performance?
George: (nodding) Yeah, it was a solid race. Not quite the result we hoped for, but the team worked hard all weekend. We gave it our best shot with the car we had. Of course, as a driver, you always want more, but I think we made the most of the opportunities we had out there.
Journalist: Fair enough. And, of course, today marks the end of an era with Lewis Hamilton’s final race for Mercedes. What’s it like to share this moment with him? Any reflections?
George: (pauses, visibly emotional) It’s bittersweet, really. Lewis has been such a huge part of the team and the sport as a whole. He’s not just a teammate but also a mentor and a legend in Formula 1. Sharing the garage with him has been an honor. I think I speak for everyone at Mercedes when I say we’re incredibly grateful for everything he’s brought to the team and wish him all the best for what comes next.
Journalist: Well said. Now, George, I have to shift gears a bit—there’s been a lot of chatter about some off-track tension. During the national anthem, fans couldn’t help but notice you glaring at Max Verstappen. Care to address that?
George: (stiffens, smile faltering) I wasn’t glaring at anyone. I was focused on the race, like I always am. People are reading into things that just aren’t there.
Journalist: Really? Because from the footage, it looked quite... pointed. And after Max’s comments yesterday about making peace with you ‘because of a baby,’ it’s hard not to wonder—
George: (cuts in, voice tight) I don’t see how that’s relevant to today’s race.
Journalist: (pressing) George, fans are speculating nonstop. Is it true? Is your sister having Max Verstappen’s baby?
George: (visibly bristling, voice rising) I think we’ve strayed far enough from the purpose of this interview. This is about Formula 1, about racing—not gossip or baseless rumors.
Journalist: With all due respect, George, Max’s words weren’t exactly cryptic. He was talking about a baby and making amends with you. Surely, you can understand why people are curious.
George: (snaps, voice sharp) Curious or not, it’s none of anyone’s business. This is supposed to be a post-race interview—not a soap opera recap. The media needs to learn where to draw the line. We’re here to race, not have our personal lives dissected under a microscope.
Journalist: But George, the fans—
George: (interrupts sharply) No. Enough. The media needs to maintain boundaries and stop meddling in our personal lives. I’m done here.
(George rips off his team cap, storms away from the interview pen, and disappears into the paddock, leaving the journalist and cameras stunned.)
Comments:
user: George was NOT here for the nonsense today. That ‘draw the line’ speech? ICONIC
user: Honestly, respect to George for standing up for himself. The journalist was pushing way too hard. Let the man race in peace user: Never seen George this mad before 😳 What is going on in the House of Commons???
user: Why do I feel like this confirms the baby news? Like he didn’t deny it, and his reaction was TOO intense
user: Respect to George for standing up to the journalist, but let’s not lie—he 100% confirmed the drama with that reaction. 🍼
user: Okay, but imagine George finding out about the baby at the same time as us 😭
user: George looked like he was going to deck Max during the national anthem. Thank you, Oscar, for literally being a human shield
user: No but why did George look like he was seconds away from body-slamming Max during the anthem? Lando had to literally hold him back 💀
user: Okay, but the real question is… what BABY? Whose baby? Did George even KNOW about this baby before today?!
user: Theory time! 1. Max and Y/n were dating in secret. 2. George didn’t know about the baby and is spiraling. 3. Netflix is eating GOOD
user: Imagine being George and learning about your sister’s alleged baby from Twitter
user: Lewis’ last race with Merc and THIS is what George has to deal with. Poor guy’s gonna need therapy after this season
user: The way everyone’s ignoring this is also Lewis’ last race with Mercedes 💀. George snapped so hard we forgot to be emotional
user: Lando probably whispered something dumb like ‘You’re doing amazing, sweetie’ while George was vibrating with rage
user: F1 isn’t just a sport. It’s a reality TV show with occasional car racing
Max stood under the glare of the cameras, trying to look composed despite the post-race fatigue gnawing at him. P6 wasn’t what he’d wanted, but at least he’d avoided the chaos brewing elsewhere in the paddock—or so he thought.
“So, the strategy was clearly compromised by the penalty,” the journalist asked, her tone probing. “Do you think there was any way to recover from that?”
Max nodded slightly, his words coming out measured. “Yeah, it was tough. We lost track position early, and once you’re in traffic—”
“Sorry to interrupt.”
The voice was eerily calm, almost polite, but it carried a weight that immediately silenced the conversation. Max turned to see George standing there, his posture casual but his jaw clenched tight.
The journalist blinked, clearly taken aback. “Uh, George? We’re in the middle of—”
“I need a moment with Max,” George cut her off, his tone civil but firm. He glanced at Max’s PR manager with an unnervingly calm smile. “I hope you don’t mind.”
The PR manager hesitated, looking between Max and George. Max let out a quiet sigh, already resigned to whatever was about to unfold. He gave a small nod. “It’s fine. I’ll be back in a bit.”
Before anyone could say another word, George’s hand clamped onto Max’s shoulder. It wasn’t rough, but it left no room for argument.
Max allowed himself to be steered away, his body language slumping slightly as though accepting his fate. George didn’t say a word as he guided Max through the paddock, weaving past mechanics and team personnel. A few glanced their way, their curiosity piqued, but no one dared to intervene.
“Are you going to say something, or are we just walking in ominous silence?” Max finally muttered, keeping his tone light but knowing full well George wasn’t in the mood for jokes.
George didn’t respond, his grip tightening slightly as they turned into a quieter corridor behind the team hospitality units.
“Okay,” Max said with a dry laugh, “this is starting to feel like a bad cop drama.”
George stopped abruptly, spinning Max around and slamming him against the wall. The thud echoed in the empty space, and Max winced slightly but didn’t resist.
“We need to talk,” George said, his voice low and steely, every word laced with barely contained anger.
Max met his gaze, his usual unflappable demeanor faltering under the intensity of George’s glare. For a moment, the air between them was thick with tension, unspoken words hanging heavy in the silence.
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# USING YOUR SAFEWORD
INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher.
GWEN’S MESSAGE. hi besties! this is based on this request: ‘a headcanon type blurb thing with the drivers reacting to you using your safeword?’ sorry it took me so long!
★ — LANDO NORRIS
Lando’s sitting at the foot of the bed, watching you as you try to regulate your rapid breathing. He wants nothing more than to hold you and let you know that everything is okay, but when he tried to touch you, after you whispered your safeword in between sobs, you pushed him away. Lando knows you need a little space to feel safe again, so he stands up very carefully to grab one of his shirts to give to you. His heart breaks when you avoid making eye contact, just whispering a simple ‘thank you’.
He doesn’t know how much time passes, but he hears your voice. “I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing that leaves your mouth, followed by: “I just – I was too in my head and I couldn’t keep going. I’m so–” Lando climbs on the bed but doesn’t move closer to you, he waits until you’re the one reaching for his hand. He spends most of the night reassuring you that he’s not mad and everything is okay.
★ — CHARLES LECLERC
Charles stops immediately, reaching for the glass of water waiting on the nightstand. Your face is flushed and there are tears in the corner of your eyes, one falls down your cheek when you make eye contact with him; when you open your mouth to speak, Charles stops you with a hand on your shoulder and a shy smile. “What have we talked about. You don’t need to apologize for anything.” It doesn’t matter how many times he says those words, you have a hard time believing them.
He knows you need to feel him closer, that’s why he lies down next to you, letting you rest your head on his chest so you can feel his heartbeat to relax. You stop crying and shaking eventually, thanks to your boyfriend taking such good care of you. Charles makes sure you feel comfortable.
★ — OSCAR PIASTRI
Oscar is a bit shocked when he hears the words, not knowing exactly what to do more than stop and pull away. You’re the one reassuring him that things are okay, even if you feel a little too lost in your head. It’s only when he sees you trying to cover your body with the sheets that Oscar snaps out of it. He asks if you need anything and makes sure you feel comfortable and safe with him around. It’s cute how he doesn’t know what to do but tries to do anything just for you.
You reassure him that it has nothing to do with him, so he doesn’t need to worry or overthink anything. Oscar listens attentively to what you have to say and makes sure you know that he doesn’t care about anything more than you and your safety. You two fall asleep hugging each other.
★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN
Max makes sure you’re cuddled and warm in the bed, feeling safe before sprinting out of the room to get you a cup of tea. He comes back with a frown which makes you want to cry even more, but he’s immediately climbing on the bed and wrapping his arms around your body. Feeling his warmth and affection is exactly what you need, Max also knows you need to hear him say that, “I’m here with you, okay? Nothing is going to happen.”
You really don’t know what you did to deserve such a gentle and caring person, but you’re so thankful for Max. He knows you better than you know yourself, and never judges you. Not even when you’re in the middle of it, and you blurt your safeword. No matter how many times it happens.
★ — ALEX ALBON
Alex apologises like his life depends on it, panicking to the brink of crying because, “I didn’t want to hurt you, love. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.” And you need to stop for a second and reassure him that it’s okay, that he didn’t actually hurt you. But Alex just keeps rambling and waving his hands and you find it somewhat funny.
He peppers your face with gentle kisses, making you both laugh. Alex ends up helping you to change into some of his clothes and you order something greasy to eat in bed. He doesn’t leave your side the whole night, still whispering little sorrys.
★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO
Daniel holds you close against his chest as you try to get out of your head, his voice soothing, enough to calm you down. When you open your mouth to apologise, he beats you to it. “Do not apologise. There’s nothing to be sorry about.” You hum weakly and just let him hold you for as long as you need.
But he also thanks you for being honest which makes you feel a little better after ruining the night. You don’t say that out loud because you know what he is going to say, and you really don’t want things to get awkward. Daniel massages your arms and back, with some kisses in between, helping you relax and release the tension.
★ — MICK SCHUMACHER
Mick holds your face and wipes your tears, a frown adorning his handsome features because you don’t stop apologising and, “It’s all good, sweetheart. You did so good, I’m proud of you.” You stop rambling and crying eventually, and it’s then that Mick leaves you on the bed to go prepare you a hot bath.
He picks you up very carefully and helps you get in the bathtub filled with your favorite bathbomb and perfumes. Mick doesn’t pressure you at any moment and just stays there, helping you bathe.
© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.
#꒰꒰ 📁 ─ verstappen cult files ꒱꒱#f1 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#max verstappen x reader#charles leclerc fluff#f1 x reader#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#f1 fanfic#oscar piastri fluff#lando norris imagine#alex albon x you#mick schumacher x reader#daniel ricciardo fluff#daniel ricciardo x reader
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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
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#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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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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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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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.”
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#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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You hadn’t seen Oscar in years. Not since the two of you broke up back in 2018. Now it was 2027 and he was holding his hand out to you expectantly, as half the MTC stared at the two of you.
Warnings: Zak Brown, driver!reader, reader is friends with Carlos Sainz², jealous Oscar, Oscar is a real prick in this one, hate sex, rough sex, ROUGH sex, I’m not kidding with this one guys it’s angry rough bordering on noncon painful hate sex, like choking almost to the point of passing out, having no regard for the other person’s comfort/safety, overstimulation, pure unbridled animalistic rage in this one guys, beware, also not a happy ending
Ngl, I wrote the first half of this months ago and it was supposed to be super light-hearted, then the angst overtook my brain last night at 3am so… just beware
He was moving to formula Renault, you were bored of single seaters.
You wanted to explore rallying, he wanted to explore his teammates.
You know, the usual things 17 year olds want to do.
The breakup was mutual, sure, but what it lacked was closure. The two of you drifted apart and eventually called it all off, via skype. But you had never looked back, and neither had he. You hadn’t even really thought about him in years.
Since then, you had made a name for yourself in rallying, nascar, even hanging out in WEC for a season, before going back. When you got a call out of the blue from the one and only Zak Brown, who had apparently been following your career with interest, you could only accept to meet him. He took you around the MTC and even made you do some tests in the sim, then asked if you would be up for testing the car during the season.
“You are being considered to fill one of our seats next year. One of my drivers is having talks with RedBull and I’m covering my bases.” He explained.
You never registered that Oscar was the other McLaren driver. For the next year, you never saw him, and when anyone mentioned his name, your brain apparently blocked it out.
After extensive individual testing and sim work to make sure you were ready, the thought that you would even have a teammate had completely slipped your mind.
So, there you were, staring into those brown eyes, a month before the beginning of the season, as Oscar waited for you to shake his hand. You realised you’d been staring at him silently for what must have been well over thirty seconds, as the staff around you shuffled around awkwardly.
Zak, who had just ‘introduced’ you, was just looking back and forth between you two, wondering why the hell nobody was speaking.
“You guys need a minute?...”
Still no answer, so he sighed and backed away from you, grumbling “What have I done?... I miss Lando already.”
Once Zak had disappeared from view, Oscar finally dropped his hand and scowled.
“I thought we were going to be civil about this, but if that’s how you want to play it in front of Zak, then that’s fine.” He started to walk away but you cut him off.
“No, wait! I’m sorry!” you rushed out “I just- forgot you were going to be here”
He scoffed. “Here? At my place of work for the past 4 years?”
“No! I mean- I guess my brain hadn’t really assimilated the fact that we… we’re teammates again…”
Something softened in his features for a split second before his face became blank once again. “Yeah? Well, I’m not the same person I was back then, so try not to get distracted. We’re aiming for a constructor’s championship this season, which won’t happen if you’re too busy mooning over me.”
You were speechless as he walked away smoothly, saying hello to a few engineers on the way. What the fuck was his problem? He had become a right arsehole in the 9 years since you’d last spoken. 2027 Oscar was a dick.
He’d also become the broadest, sluttiest proportioned man you’d ever seen as your eyes roamed over his large shoulders and tiny waist before coming to rest on his full, round behind.
Wow.
Zak Brown finally came back, with a rather large coffee cup in his hands. “Ah good, that’s over! Now why don’t we go into my office and we can go over the rest of the formalities for the new-“ Needless to say you didn’t listen to a word that was said in that office.
The thing about having special dispensation to drive in formula 1, is that there was a lot more scrutiny on you than the other drivers. Never mind the fact you were a woman on top of that. Luckily for you though, you had enough talent to go around.
You were fifth in the championship by the time the summer break rolled around, and you couldn’t be happier. Not that you weren’t enjoying the season so far, but the championship battle was intense. Between Redbull having Charles and Lando, You and Oscar in arguably the fastest car, Ollie and Lewis having as much fun in a Ferrari as expected, and even Kimi and George, who managed to grab a fair few podiums with a shitbox of a Mercedes, the margins separating all of you were extremely small, only forty two points between you and Charles in P1.
And although you hadn’t won a race yet, which was pretty normal given that you were a rookie going against the likes of these guys, the commentators and journalists had nothing but praise for you. And you basked in the glory with unbridled satisfaction.
You were on a yacht during summer break, a two day expedition (more like a two day free cruise) and Carlos Sainz Jr (former F1 driver, and your old rally teammate) was on the sun lounger next to you. His father was on one of the lower decks, no doubt hassling the maids for sandwiches.
“Do not worry muñequita, the season will go fine. Oscar just needs time to adjust to having you back in his life basically 24/7”
He pulled you into his lap and started kissing over your chest. Hands roaming over your body as he grumbled “Just like I need to adjust to not having you around all the time…” His mouth wasted no time travelling downwards, your bikini bottoms soon tossed aside, as he made the most of the temporary absence of his father.
You weren’t together really, but your relationship had grown close ever since his dad had helped you get into rallying and you two had subsequently become teammates when he retired from F1 when Williams didn't pan out. Carlos was an amazing lover, and as a woman in motorsports you couldn’t afford any bad PR being viewed as a slut, you needed convenience and discretion, so the arrangement was perfect.
Unfortunately, the next day paparazzi showed up and got some pictures of the two of you. Nothing explicit of course, but it was enough to fuel a few rumours and spice up silly season until the end of the summer break.
During the week leading up to the first race, Oscar was a real sour puss (more than usual anyway) and he kept giving you dirty looks. And he was distracted to the point where his sim runs were just getting worse and worse.
Then there were the snarky remarks. Like when you’d spilled a water jug in the cafeteria and he’d said something like “Messy in all aspects of life, then?”. Or when your car got scratched while parked in the MTC parking lot. He walked past, saw the scratch, snorted derisively and said “Karma’s a bitch, ay” before getting into his own car and driving off.
You had no idea what had gotten into him, but this had to stop, one way or another.
You cornered him in his driver’s room on Sunday morning before the race.
“What the fuck is your problem?” you snapped, storming into his room without even bothering to knock.
He looked up from where he was sitting on the sofa, scrolling on his phone, but he didn't look phased in the slightest.
“I don't know what you're talking about”
“Oh fuck off! Ever since I joined McLaren you've been a complete dick to me and since we came back from break it's been getting even worse!”
He shrugged and looked back at his phone, which enraged you.
So you did the rational thing and walked over to him, ripped his phone out of his hands to see what could possibly be more interesting than-
You froze upon seeing his screen.
It was one of the more… interesting shots of you and Carlos on the yacht from a few weeks ago.
He stood up and grabbed his phone back, but the damage was done.
Not only was it a picture of you and Carlos, but it wasn't on social media, it was in his camera roll.
He'd saved it onto his phone.
The cogs started turning in your head.
‘Messy in all aspects of life’ he’d said.
This was what he was referencing.
You looked into his eyes and they were filled with thinly veiled rage.
“Is this why? Are you fucking jealous?”
He scoffed and pushed past you.
“I most certainly am not. I hope you and Carlos are very happy together.”
He took his shirt off as aggressively as he could and started putting on his fireproofs.
“Me and Carlos aren't together you prick.”
“Really? So what's the deal then? Does he just get to fuck you?”
“What's it to you? You scared of playing second fiddle to Carlos Sainz?”
That made him halt his movements.
“What?” his hands balled into fists.
“You fucking heard me” you spat.
He turned around slowly, his shoulders tense and his nostrils flared.
“You'd better not be suggesting that he's better than me”
You crossed your arms in defiance. “We were 17 and inexperienced, Oscar, it's not hard to do better than that.”
Something animalistic flashed in his eyes. “I guess I need to change your perception of me if you're going to compare me to that fucking loser”
You laughed in his face, but under the surface you were uneasy at the implications.
“Good luck with that one mate”
“Yeah?” he cocked an eyebrow as he prowled towards you menacingly. “Is he that unbelievable? Does he make you come? Does he fuck you like he means it? Does he make you tremble with need underneath him? Does he make you scream his name?”
He towered over you, only a few inches separating your faces.
“Because I guarantee, once you get a taste of me you won't be going back to him.”
“Do your worst” you whispered, fully turned on by this angry side of Oscar.
“Oh I’m going to” he smirked, “but right now I have a race to win”
And with that he backed off, leaving you unconsciously gripping the edge of the table you’d been cornered against.
As you crossed the threshold of his doorway on your way out, you muttered “coward”, fully intending for him to hear it.
And thank God Oscar didn’t, because if he had, you wouldn’t have been able to get in a car after he’d had his way with you.
You were distracted the whole race. Nerves ran down your spine as you took each corner, not wrong enough to hit a wall, but wrong enough to slow you down.
“Concentrate, please. Leclerc is closing the gap, we don’t want to endanger Oscar’s chances” your engineer muttered over the radio.
“Fuck Oscar” you said, which was entirely unhelpful, and if aired was going to attract quite a bit of backlash.
Fortunately for you, Oscar seemed to be having similar difficulties. He’d dipped his rear tyres into the gravel a couple of times, and with 39 lap old mediums, that meant he was becoming significantly slower than you, being on slightly fresher ones.
You eventually caught up to him, and Charles caught up to you.
You should have been let past. You were faster, you could guarantee a McLaren win. Oscar should have listened to team orders. You shouldn’t have forced him wide to get past when he refused to listen to reason. He shouldn’t have hit you while defending his inside line. You shouldn’t have ended up beached in the gravel trap, Oscar’s car spinning alongside yours. Charles shouldn’t have won that race.
You and Oscar shouldn’t have started brawling on the edge of the track.
Alas...
The loud slam of your driver’s room door against the wall startled you, as if you weren’t expecting it. As if you hadn’t been waiting for him.
As if Oscar hadn’t spat ‘you won’t be able to walk tomorrow’ at you as the marshalls dragged you apart.
As if you weren’t already dripping at the thought of Oscar taking his anger out on you and making you pay for what happened.
His hand was around your throat before you could think too much about it. You were pinned down on the table, nails scratching at the arm that held you down against the cool wood.
The fact that you were soaked was evident as soon as he forced his other hand into your underwear and felt how slick your folds were, and he immediately used his fingers to make you fall apart at the seams as he found the spot that made you weak and abused it repeatedly, his thumb pressing rough circles onto your poor clit.
Only when you’d come twice from his fingers alone was he satisfied.
He’d changed into sweatpants at some point, making it easier for him to pull his hard cock out while still holding you down.
You were used and oversensitive, and the sight of his thickness made you squirm and attempt to tell him to stop, but you didn’t get the chance.
The fingers around your throat were barely letting you breathe, much less get words out, not to mention that you were getting so lightheaded you doubted if your words would even be comprehensible if you did manage to utter them.
When his tip breached you, you tensed, waiting for him to go all the way, but he didn’t.
He waited until you relaxed before he slammed into you, probably bruising your cervix and making sure he made good on his trackside promise.
If you’d been able to make a sound, you would have probably been heard all the way across the paddock. The aching pain just served to add to the fog that was slowly invading your mind as he wasted no time pulling out and thrusting back in with even more force.
It was brutal, uncaring and relentless.
This wasn’t for your pleasure, nor even for his. This was a painful reminder for you both, that you were at the mercy of the sport you dedicated your lives to. You were puppets, made to compete in the most expensive dog fight in the world and you couldn’t do anything to change that. You just had to take it, until you triumphed, or drowned in the condolent applause of failure.
These were the sort of wild thoughts a person could have after being deprived of air for long enough.
Oscar hadn’t even noticed the state you were in until your grip on his arm weakened, and he panicked slightly and quickly loosened his grip, allowing you to heave in the first proper breath you’d had in minutes.
The reprieve didn’t last long though, because he leaned over you and kissed you, more teeth and tongue than a real kiss, but it was all either of you could manage, being so close to the brink of extasy you hadn’t even noticed you’d been nearing. Your body rocked against the table with the powerful movement of his hips slapping yours, the combined sweat of your bodies making the surface slippery.
Your throat was sore, and all you could manage was a pitiful whine as you were tossed over the edge of the precipice, and Oscar jumped with you, both of you panting and moaning into each other’s mouths as he filled you to the brim.
He didn’t stop though. He kept fucking you through it, overstimulating you and himself, both of you crying out into the stale air of your driver’s room.
His anger and desperation could be felt in his unrelenting pace, frenzied thrusts pushing you further and further up the table each time.
Your shared tears mingled with your sweat, clouding your visions as you just kept going.
It hurt, but that didn’t matter when it was just the two of you, together, bodies colliding, unspoken words hanging between you.
It hurt, but it felt good.
The pain grounded you, making sure you stayed locked in even when you couldn't breathe.
He filled you up again and again, until he physically couldn’t anymore. He pulled out without care and pulled his sweats back up.
He took in your appearance: skin flushed, glistening with sweat and tears, bruises forming around your neck, puffy cunt leaking onto the table… pathetic.
He made his way to the door but stopped just as his hand touched the handle.
“Don’t try that shit ever again” and the next thing you heard was the door slam behind him.
You both knew you would do it again. And he would do it as soon as he got the chance, probably leading to another crash.
And you would probably end up right back here, used and spent, unable to move.
Tears sprang to your eyes, anyone could walk in and see you like this, utterly destroyed physically and mentally by your teammate.
It took you several minutes to gather the energy to move, and when you did the pain flashed across your body once again.
He'd used you, made you take it until he had nothing left to give. Until you lay there, broken like a discarded toy.
But God, you both knew you craved it.
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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 !!!
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yourusername posted on their story
📍melbourne, australia
caption: i’ll miss my child while im travelling
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liked by friend1, yourbestfriend, yourmom, friend2 & others liked
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
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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
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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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yourusername posted on their instagram
📍australia
liked by yourbestfriend, oscarpiastri, friend1 & others liked
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
liked by landonorris, yourusername, yourbestfriend & others liked
im definitely enjoying this time off from racing
tagged: yourusername
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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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yourusername posted on their instagram
liked by yourbestfriend, oscarpiastri, friend1, yourmom & others liked
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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yourusername posted on their instagram
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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
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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: ❤️
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yourusername posted on their instagram
📍 sydney, australia
liked by oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, friend1 & others liked
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: ❤️
-
yourusername posted on their instagram
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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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sera's tracks - 1k celebration
AHHHHHH 1K!!!! thank you so much, i honestly can't believe that I've reached a milestone like this because this blog started out as a joke (I wanted to see how long it would take my friends to find my blog), but here we are 🥹 I am so grateful for every single one of you 💗
similar to my 500 followers event (i swear i'll actually do this one!!), I'll give a list of songs and you guys can request.
These songs are some of my personal faves so there will be a good mix of genres for requests! there's a total of 10 songs + lyrics that you can use as a guide for what the fic/story will be (2 are songs I already have planned, the rest are up for grabs)
a/n: to my wonderful moots who i absolutely love and feel like i’ve known my entire life, @nepobbylver @iamred-iamyellow @cleopatrick-123 @emchante, i just want to say i love you guys!!!! mwah mwah mwah (I love my other moots too I swear, I just haven't had the opportunity to interact with them 😖)
how can i request? send an ask, pairing a driver with the available songs!
↳ example: “hi! can i request [driver] + [song]? also can it be [choose from smut, angst, fluff, or a combination of any of the 2]?”
can i be added to the taglist? of course, just fill out the form below :)
↳ click me!
guide!
smut - [s] fluff - [f] angst -[a]
fics i have planned!
piano man - billy joel [f] - charles leclerc x fem!reader
butterflies - denise julia [f, s] - lando norris x fem!reader
open for requests!
guilty as sin? - taylor swift [read here] taken - oscar piastri x fem!reader - [a, s]
i keep recalling things we never did, messy top lip kiss, how i long for our trysts
these fatal fantasies giving way to labored breath, taking all of me, we’ve already done it in my head
without ever touching his skin, how can i be guilty as sin?
be with you - the ridleys taken - fernando alonso x fem!reader - [a, f, s]
someday i’ll make a home with you, it may be big, it may be small
but if the dreams don’t happen right away, that’s okay, i just wanna be with you every single day, for the rest of our lives
I'm gonna work on my temper, while you learn to speak your mind some more, i'll be more of a shelter and less of a storm
best friends brother - victoria justice [read here] taken - daniel ricciardo x fem!reader - [s]
i don’t know what i’m thinking, but is it wrong if i see him this weekend?
i kinda think that i might be his type, 'cause when you're not around, he's not acting too shy
i really hope i can get him alone, i just don’t want her to know
bags - clairo taken - ollie bearman x fem!reader - [f]
can you see me usin’ everythin’ to hold back?
i’m not the type to run, i know that we’re havin’ fun, but what’s the rush? kiss and then my cheeks are so flushed
can you see me? i’m waitin’ for the right time, i can’t read you, but if you want, the pleasure’s all mine
mad - ne-yo taken - franco colapinto x fem!reader - [a, s, f]
so both of us are mad for nothing, fighting for nothing
but baby, can we make up now? cause i can’t sleep through the pain
we can fuss, we can fight, long as everything’s all right between us before we go to sleep, baby we’re gonna be happy
superman - taylor swift taken - max verstappen x fem!reader - [a, f]
he’s got his mother’s eyes, his father’s ambition. i wonder if he know how much that i miss him
i watch superman fly away, you got a busy day today, go save the world, i’ll be around
something in his deep brown eyes has me saying “he’s not all bad like his reputation”
if ever you’re in my arms again - peabo bryson taken - charles leclerc x fem!reader - [a, f]
now, i’m seeing clearly how i still need you near me, i still love you so
the best of romances, deserve second chances, i'll get to you some, 'cause i promise now, if ever you're in my arms again, this time i'll you much better
it all came so easy, the lovin' you gave me, the feelings we shared, and I can still remember how your touch was so tender
guy.exe - superfruit taken - lance stroll x fem!reader - [s]
where all the boys at with financial security? a doctor, a model, a man of possibilities
oh, he’d pick me up at eight, and not a minute late, ‘cause i don’t like to wait, no
i need a man who don’t get jealous ‘less i want him to, a gentleman to take care of me in the bedroom
#1k celebration#sera write’s#formula 1#formula one#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 imagines#f1 smut#f1 fic#f1 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#max verstappen x reader#fernando alonso x reader#ollie bearman x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader#george russell x reader#franco colapinto x reader
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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.
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Paddock Naps : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: it's a dangerous game when lando falls asleep, but particularly when he finds himself falling asleep on you in the paddock
Your head shook as you glanced down at Lando beside you, his head falling further and further down. When you first let him rest in your lap you knew you were playing a dangerous game but you knew with how busy race days usually were there was no way that Lando was going to be able to rest with you for too long.
Little did you know though how much you were helping him in his mission to fall asleep. The way your fingers ran through his hair, or tickled against his waist all helped him to feel incredibly comfortable, perhaps a little too comfortable if you were a member of McLaren staff.
Time ran away with you tucked up in the hospitality lounge, but the sound of a figure coughing beside you soon made you look up, and immediately look back down.
Oscar’s head shook at the sight of the two of you, something he had gotten pretty used to seeing from you. “How has he managed to fall asleep already? It’s barely even one in the afternoon.”
“Who’s fallen asleep?” A second voice called out, your expression cringing as Daniel appeared up alongside Oscar.
You didn’t quite know where to look as Daniel’s eyes widened at Lando fast asleep, having to place his mouth over his hand to hold back his laughter and make sure that he didn’t disturb Lando with his laughter.
“You look very comfortable,” Oscar teased as your eyes met his, offering you a smile.
“He’s a pain,” you complained, feeling your legs get number and number the more time that passed. As much as you wanted to be annoyed at Lando for falling asleep on you, seeing him so content made your heart swell, knowing just how exhausted he was with the last of three consecutive races looming.
They all had their moments when they tried to get some peace and quiet, but you and Lando were unlike any other couple around the paddock. Other drivers could only admire how comfortable you were around each other, how little you cared about what others thought of you or how much you wanted to be around each other.
It was something that terrified you when you first started dating Lando, but he helped you to not worry about anyone else, training you out of worrying about all of the eyes on you.
“How long until your meeting?” You asked Oscar as he and Daniel took a seat in front of you to keep you company whilst you waited for Lando to stir.
“We’ve still got a little while yet, we don’t want to wake sleeping beauty up too early, otherwise we’ll never hear the end of it.”
Your hand gently brushed over the top of Lando’s head once again, tangling gently through his curls as you tried your best to tidy his hair up for him a little.
“You know he’ll wake up and still complain he’s tired,” you warned the two of them, “he won’t care about the fact that I won’t be able to feel my legs for the rest of the day.”
Daniel could only snigger as you spoke, “it’s his fault for having such a big head.”
You struggled to hold back your laughter, it was something that Lando told you constantly, but only now were you feeling the full weight of it weighing you down in your seat.
After a few minutes of light conversation between the three of you, a groan could be heard from your lap. All eyes looked down as Lando’s eyes fluttered open, grunting at the two men he saw sat in front of him, before glancing up at you.
“Nice to see you awake, it’s only the middle of the afternoon,” Oscar teased as he glanced down at his watch. “Nothing like a midday nap to prepare you for a race is there?”
The moment your eyes met Lando’s you could see how needed his rest was. He smiled softly up at him as he continued to wake himself up, shuffling slightly, much to your relief, as you finally managed to slightly move your legs.
“You really have no shame, do you?” Daniel couldn’t help but joke too. “Do you know how many people have walked into this room and just found you laid out there?”
Lando shot a glare in response to Daniel, stretching himself up before sitting up in the chair next to you where his feet had been laying, hearing a giggle come from you as you shook your own body awake too.
“You’re such a lump,” you smirked as Lando looked at what you were doing, watching as you shook your legs, finally feeling the movement come back into them.
An apologetic pout formed on Lando’s face as he shuffled closer towards you, resting his hand against your lap as his head came down to rest against your shoulder, still a little bit on the sleepy side of life.
“Don’t fall asleep again,” you warned, jolting your shoulder to keep Lando awake.
A frustrated sigh came from him, “why can’t you just let me sleep for the rest of the day?”
“Because we have this thing called work,” Oscar interjected, shaking his head at how dramatic Lando was. “I think Y/N has better things to do then let you throw yourself across her all day.”
You couldn’t see Lando, but you could imagine the glare that he was sending at Oscar, with Daniel chuckling next to him to add salt into the wounds for Lando.
“I hate all of you,” Lando confirmed, “I just want to rest, is that really so hard?”
You knew exactly what would happen if you let Lando sleep any longer. You’d been on the receiving end of Zak before when Lando had missed important team meetings, he trusted you to keep Lando in check and loved to tease you whenever you failed at that job.
“Come on sleepyhead, you can rest when we’re back at the hotel tonight,” you smiled, resting your head down on top of Lando’s. “I don’t think your bank account will want to pay the fine for another missed team meeting.”
A hum of agreement came from Lando as he reluctantly sat himself up, still staring at Daniel and Oscar as they continued to laugh to themselves at the scene they saw unfold before them.
“You wait, I’ll get you two back for this.”
“We’re just sat here, we’re not doing anything wrong.”
Lando looked to you for help, but you chose to stay quiet, knowing that Daniel and Oscar had kept you company for most of the time he slept, you couldn’t betray them by siding with Lando now.
Before Lando could snap back at them, the two of them excused themselves, Daniel ready to head to his meeting, Oscar keen to impress and make sure that he got to the McLaren office before Lando did and keep everyone on his side.
“I can’t wait to go home tonight,” Lando whispered across to you, sitting himself up again. “Thank you for letting me rest on you babe, I do feel a lot better after it.”
Your head nodded as your hands cupped either side of Lando’s face. “I promise as soon as you’re finished we’ll head out of here and get you to bed as soon as possible.”
Lando smiled appreciatively back across at you, resting his head into your left palm. He desperately wanted to stay with you forever, but he knew that he would never be allowed to do that.
“Go and be amazing and I’ll be here when you get back,” you encouraged, tapping Lando’s cheek as he reluctantly stood up from his chair. “If you get bored, just think about all of those cuddles we’ll have at the hotel tonight.”
Lando’s head nodded as he leaned down and pressed an appreciative kiss against the top of your head, brushing his hand through your hair. “Thank you for always being there for me, it means the world to me love.”
“You’re welcome Lan,” you whispered.
“See you soon, for the most incredible rest.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#lando norris#lando norris imagine#formula 1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one#f1 fanfic#f1 reaction#lando norris drabble#lando norris x you#lando norris fluff#lando norris x reader#formula x reader#formula one drabble#formula 1 drabble#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#f1 drabble#f1 fluff#f1 x you#f1 fic
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It's me and you now || Loscar
Summary: “What’s bothering you, Loges?” Oscar asked softly, emerging from the small bathroom after having a quick shower
“He isn’t even that pretty” Logan scoffed, tapping his fingers against his biceps, his legs spread wide
“Mh. Lando’s the problem” Oscar hummed, pulling on a shirt
Warnings: secret relationship, top Logan, bottom Oscar, jealous Logan, possessive Logan, drivers room sex, thigh grinding, coming in pants
Masterlist || AO3
Logan wasn’t in f1 anymore, sure, but Oscar still invited him to the garage quite a lot
It’s surprising that nobody had figured out they were dating yet
They had told a couple of people, but one of them were not Lando, which was evident when he started flirting with Oscar in the garage just before qualifying
Logan watched the two, observing how Oscar was obviously uncomfortable, but also having a hard time saying no- especially towards Lando
Logan clenched his jaw slightly. Logan wasn’t jealous per se, but… When it came to Lando, he was more jealous- I mean, who wouldn’t? Lando were always so touchy with Oscar, so Logan didn’t see why he shouldn’t be jealous
---
Logan sat in Oscar’s drivers room after qualifying, his arms crossed over his chest, frowning
“What’s bothering you, Loges?” Oscar asked softly, emerging from the small bathroom after having a quick shower
“He isn’t even that pretty” Logan scoffed, tapping his fingers against his biceps, his legs spread wide
“Mh. Lando’s the problem” Oscar hummed, pulling on a shirt
“Why can’t we tell him? I want that fucker to know you’re mine” Logan looked up at Oscar, his expression firm
“Watch how you speak. You might get community service” Oscar joked, walking over to Logan “You know I’m yours, baby” He hummed, straddling Logan’s thighs, pushing his legs together
“Yeah, but I want him to know too so he can back the fuck off” Logan’s hands settled on Oscar’s ass, squeezing him softly, making the Aussie whimper quietly
“You know I can’t tell him” Oscar sighed softly when Logan started placing kisses around his neck and throat
“I’ll fucking show him then” Logan chuckled low before tugging Oscar at his hair softly, sucking on to his neck
“Logan” Oscar whined softly, his arms holding around Logan’s neck “Loges, I have to drive tomorrow, we can’t”
“Don’t have to, baby” Logan chuckled, moving his mouth to suck onto other spots on Oscar’s neck and throat
“I-I need to…” Oscar panted, his hips slowly grinding against Logan’s thigh
“Mhm. I know, baby” Logan leaned back, looking up at Oscar, biting his bottom lip softly, helping Oscar move his hips
Oscar moaned softly when he ground against Logan’s thigh just right
Logan’s name fell off of Oscar’s tongue like a prayer- until they heard Lando’s door open and close, meaning Lando had walked into the room
Oscar covered his mouth with his hand, knowing Lando could hear him if he didn’t
“No, no. None of that, baby” Logan chuckled, removing Oscar’s hand, pressing his hips further down against his thigh, making him moan loudly
“Fuck, Loges. Please, don’t” Oscar begged quietly “It’s so embarrassing if everyone hears” He whimpered softly
“Don’t really give a fuck” Logan hummed “You’re mine, and I’m gonna make sure everyone knows” He almost growled, moving Oscar at a faster and harder pace, Oscar moaning louder and louder the further he got to his orgasm
“My name, baby” Logan smacked Oscar’s ass softly
“Logan” Oscar moaned out, his hands digging into Logan’s shoulders
“That’s it, baby” Logan chuckled softly, hearing Lando put on loud music to cover their sounds “Look like he got the message”
“Fucking idiot” Oscar moaned into Logan’s neck, his body shaking slightly at how close he were to the edge
“You love me anyways” Logan chuckled, hands digging into Oscar’s hips
“Mhm. F-fuck, fuck. Logan” Oscar moaned; the only warning Logan got before Oscar came into his briefs, his body shaking and his breathing heavy
“Lando is actually kind pretty” Oscar panted into Logan’s neck, earning him a soft smack on the ass, causing him to yelp softly “But you know I prefer blonds” He chuckled, kissing Logan softly on the neck
“We’re not 13 anymore, you didn’t have to mark me” Oscar whined softly, leaning back to look down at Logan
“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it” Logan hummed, kissing softly over one of the hickeys
#f1 smut#formula one#f1#Logan sargeant#logan sargeant smut#Oscar piastri#Oscar piastri smut#loscar#loscar smut
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Mexico 2024
-I’m calm, I’m calm, I’m calm, I’m so calm
-I LIED, I AM NOT CALM
-Aaaaaaaah, okay let’s go (The race doesn’t even start until two minutes from now)
-Valterri holds the race record here as well? Asking once again why he’s in a Sauber
-Esteban from the pit lane? What happened there?
-Okay, okay, okay can’t think anymore, we’re starting
-Max!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-Yuki???? Whaaaat??
-Carlos where are you going???
-Ohmygod Safety Car
-Alex out too!!
-Aaah so much chaos!!!!
-Oh that replay makes the crash looks so much worse then it looked before
-Oh wow, well done Checo. That was unexpected.
-“Unfortunately for Yuki Tsunodo, I don’t think he did anything wrong there” WHYYY
-“Sergio Perez is being investigated for a false start” I- I take whatever I said before back
-Cars weaving behind the safety car>>>
-I’m surprised Oscar hasn’t gained positions yet
-Franco has though!
-Ah Carlos!!
-The top three are so close together now!! Top four I think actually!!
-Oh god, not again with these two!
-Charles???? Ever the opportunist!!
-“Both Verstappen and Norris have handed this on a silver platter to Ferrari”
-10s penalty for Max
-Red Bull just catching Ls this week
-“10! That’s impressive!” This guy
-George and Lewis!
-Ferrari teammate drama incoming?
-Fernando Alonso retiring??? Oh his 400th race weekend?? So unfortunate
-“Keep it clean. You have a good place. Keep it clean” Oh we’re racing babyyy
-“Quite an impressive job the Haas team are doing” yessss!!
-Liam and Checo!! Oh I’m loving how much drama is happening here right now
-Wow Checo is really driving hard
-20s penalty. I will cry
-Oscar and Franco?!! Yessss! Omg this is so exciting!!
-Back to crying
-Yay Oscar! Mans just moves in silence
-So much crying. Why am I still watching?
-“This is turning into a nightmare weekend for Red Bull. A lot of it, no, in fact all of it, self-inflicted” Big sigh
-Hate when any of the Haas drivers pit and then they lose position and then sometimes they don’t regain position and then I’m sad
-Can’t afford to be more sad than this, need at least my midfielders to do well
-At least Max is back in the points. We can be somewhat happier.
-If you had told me that the multi-championship drivers (Lewis and Max) might be about to race each other I would think they’d be racing for top positions and not for p5 or p6
-Oh Charles potential undercut on Carlos? Him winning would cause so much drama, I feel it. (I secretly want it)
-“One more lap guys, come on, one more lap”
-So much pit stop strategy afoot
-I was distracted, how is Lawson p4??
-Not him still fighting Oscar
-“Mate think about pulling me out of this” I feel you Oscar (I actually don’t but I can empathize)
-Liam “cork in the bottle” Lawson!
-Yess Oscar!! Lewis too!! Double overtake!!
-Kinda expected there to be more of a fight between Max and Franco
-How has Max done a better recovery drive than Checo? What’s wrong with Checo’s car fr
-“I had a big misfire out of Turn 3” ???
-Nico back in points 🎶
-Aww Franco having car problems :/
-I guess the people are about to get what they want and Oscar is about to play the team game
-“McLaren not trying to use him to hold off Max Verstappen in any way shape or form” I’m so confused???
-Go Kevin Magnussen!!!
Ohmygodd Nico back up too!!
-Why do these two always run together?? It’s hilarious how evenly matched they look
-“Miserable Mexican Grand Prix for Sergio Perez” I feel for that guy, I really do
-“Taking away fastest lap” The things Daniel Ricciardo does to the sport
-“20s gap back to Russel” Mercedes?? Fight back??
-Franco and Oscar pt2! He’s so impressive, Franco
-“George, we are free to race here. Let’s give each other room”
-“There’s young Kimi Antonelli” He’s so tiny!
-Franco fast lap. I hope he gets to keep it this time.
-How is Lewis stuck behind George for so long?
-Aah no!! Nico lost a place :(
-Oh god Charles vs Lando incoming. I can’t watch this
-“We need your best driving now, let’s go” Aaaaaaaah
-Seriously, how is Lewis still stuck behind George?
-“In the olden days, they would’ve done something about this at Mercedes” Righttt
-Poor Franco, lost the fast lap again
-“This is not going to be the easiest fight in the world, up against Charles Leclerc”
-Aaaaaaaaaaah
-I’m actually going to cry
-OHMYGOD NO!!!
-That could’ve been so much worse tho, at least he got back in
-Haas is having such a good race, I’m so happy
-Have to acknowledge George’ defense…
-Finally!!!! Let’s go Lewis!!!
-If Carlos wins this race, it would be his second race with Lando coming 2nd (…I would have two pennies, which wouldn’t be a lot but it’s strange that it happened twice…)
-“Chasing down the man he started a bromance with” Carlando alive and kicking
-Liam Lawson fast lap lol
-“Only man to have won from pole position”
-Lol fastest lap contest
-“He’s not playing second fiddle to anyone is Carlos Sainz”
-Let’s go!!! He manifested this!!!! He got his one last win in Ferrari!!!!!
#formula 1#f1#formula one#mexican gp 2024#Mexico 2024#carlos sainz#lando norris#charles lecrelc#lewis hamilton#george russell#max verstappen#kevin magnussen#oscar piastri#nico hulkenberg#pierre gasly#lance stroll#franco colapinto#esteban ocon#valterri bottas#zhou guanyu#liam lawson#checo perez#fernando alonso#alex albon#yuki tsunoda#kimi antonelli
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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
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| 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.
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