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ayrtonswnna · 2 months ago

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ʚɞ "can you bring my girlfriend?" OP81

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⋮ angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. word count: 1,7k

✧₊⁺ oscar piastri x carina duquez (female!oc)

summary: when oscar feels too much, but he'll always have his girlfriend to share life.

warnings: autor with an addiction to angst writing, mentions of a panic/anxiety attack, soft!oscar for the win, lando norris as a special guest.

Oscar feels overwhelmed.

Bahrain gets the hottest track of the year, a hard race to say the least. It feels like there's too much going on, almost like the McLaren driver could sense his skin burning even out of the car.

He usually holds good control over himself; a very disciplined athlete, he heard every call on the radio and hydrated just as much as he could, but the fuzzy feeling won't leave him.

Seeing bright and blind sparks where his vision should be, an anxiety wave crashing in his chest as he stumbles inside the papaya box.

It's not just the heat, being so self-aware makes him sure of that. The medical team follows him inside, just a plain sight, there are people around, but everything seems just too far away. Soaked in sweat and cold water, his heart is beating too fast for him to think clearly.

He needs to get Carina.

Also known as his girlfriend, his baby, his physiologist. Like, legally. Like what she does for a living. Oscar can't be her patient as part of the conduct, but she often helps him out with that kind of stuff, like identifying whether it's physical pain or just anxiety.

"No, I'm okay. I'm okay," the pilot waves his hands as the doctors approach, really focused on keeping his breath regular. "Can you just get my girlfriend? She's somewhere in the VIP. I really need her right now."

"I know you might want some comfort right now, but I need to check you right away."

"You can! Just bring my girlfriend. Can you bring my girlfriend?" As soon as he understood that the man in front of him wasn't going to move, he asked someone in the back. "She'll be here in seconds. I'll let you touch me as soon as she says I'm okay."

Yeah, the doctor is right. Oscar just wants some comfort right now. Carina, besides being very good at what she does for a living, is also an incredibly amazing girlfriend. Her powers go beyond what she studied for.

And heaven seems to be on their side today. One of the guys on the medical team heads out of the room, and Oscar just tries to breathe slowly and deeply.

Carina is there, body almost hanging on the half-wall of the accommodation, trying to get any sign of what's going on inside the papaya garage. Usually, he would wave to her every time he left the car, and that didn't happen today. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, worrying if something had happened.

She's right, somehow. Somebody dressed in McLaren's staff uniform came for her with a pass for the boxes zone and a calming voice, telling her not to worry, that Oscar is okay and just requested her presence.

But, well... Carina knows the boyfriend she got herself. There are not many people who can get into his sensitive space, and if she's being called, there is something sensitive happening. The Aussie girl flew down the access stairs and followed the woman into the light-weighted door, a few seconds until she could see Oscar's red face resting up, the back of his head against the wall, and his body curled up together.

"Hey, Osc." She uses her softest tone, leaving her purse and phone on the closest surface as she approaches. "Pretty hot track, huh?"

Easy to guess. In the past few months, all this F1 pressure started kicking in, the perks of driving a rocketship with such ability, being this much of a promise brought some other stuff to the table.

"Yeah." He muttered, eyes closed, face red. "Am I fine? I can't really feel my face or my hands... Whatever. I can't feel much. Am I okay?"

It'd be funny in some other situation. Oscar does look like a serious guy, like someone too calm and put-together. He tries very hard to be. But sometimes, just like everyone else, he wants someone with answers.

Someone else to think for him, to figure out why everything feels so tangled up.

"Fine as always." Carina keeps her voice low, the good kind of lie. He just needed to feel like he's in control. "Your face is just bloody red, but you know I really find you the cutest when you're like this."

"Stop it." A shy little laugh leaves the Aussie's lips, really less worried as she zips his fireproof down and reaches the sides of his neck, rubbing her cold hands. "Hmm... That feels good."

"Yeah? You're just overheated, okay? Can the doctors check you out? We just need to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah- Yeah, of course. You'll stay here, right? Don't leave, please."

"I'll never leave you. Let's just get checked, and then you'll head home."

So Oscar finally feels comfortable enough to let the other people in the room touch him. Carina stays by his side, even talks to the doctors, and fixes his hair sometimes.

"Ice tub, shower, and then you can head home, Oscar. You were great today." The last person on the medical team finishes cleaning up, standing up before waving a last goodbye and leaving the room.

"Do you still need me here? I can wait for you outside." Carina says softly, tucking his overgrown hair behind his ears. "Take your shower, and I'll get the car, okay?"

"Of course not," he whispers. "can't you stay?"

That's what she does. They follow each other down the corridors in the McLaren facility to where the drivers actually go post-race. A tub of cold water awaits, and Oscar takes seconds before diving in, their last moments by themselves.

"C'mon, Osc! Can't believe the heat got the best of you!" Lando shows up from the front of the garage, towel around his neck as he tries to keep the humor up. "You're okay? Did you get checked?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got checked." He's still with his eyes closed, someone from the staff pouring one more ice bag into his tub. "It was a whole lot."

"It was, man. It is too hot around here, and the track is even worse. I thought the car was overheating!" Lando agrees. "And hey, Carina! The best medicine is love, huh? That's what they always say."

Oscar can't understand what is happening to him. He's a chill guy, always so calm and down to earth. How come the tug in his chest hits like a hammer sometimes?

It's hard to breathe, to think, and for the first time in forever... To be quiet. He tried hiding in the bathroom, tried showering. Nothing could put the feeling away, and he already felt like a burden. Carina shouldn't be fixing his mind every time something happens. His mind keeps telling him he's supposed to hold himself together.

But it's still too hard, too much.

She's sleeping. After they went back home and after everything cooled down, literally, she was still the one to order their dinner, set the bedroom, and check on him until he fell asleep on her chest. Now he is hiding in the bathroom, making sure she has time to rest.

"Baby? Are you alright? I miss you in bed; you left a while ago."

Damn, he could swear he was slick enough for her not to notice he left.

But she does, she always does. The details are some of her best qualities.

"Uh-hum. I'll be back." His hands shake, touching his own face and trying to dry the tears.

"It's cool, don't worry. Would you mind... opening the door for me? You're locked in."

Carina is good at this, she's a pro. Oscar knows she'll be the best psychologist once she finishes college just by the way she treats people around her, but mostly him.

She makes him feel comfortable before ever going to the point. He doesn't even notice she's doing it.

Still, he doesn't want to cry in front of her anymore, at least not today.

"Osc? Look, you don't need to talk or anything, I just don't want you to be alone. Because you're not."

He could swear that's procedure, although it isn't. She's just being his caring girlfriend, the one he's had ever since middle school.

"I know." The only two words he manages to say. "I'll be back, promise."

"Would you like... would you like me to be inside with you? Or would you rather spend a few more minutes alone? I can come back and check on you in ten minutes."

That could be funny. Carina sometimes uses this positive discipline thing to get in control, and being conditioned really puts Oscar's mind in place.

Her company could be good. He doesn't overthink when he's around her.

And ten minutes can feel like an eternity. So the door gets unlocked, and he steps back.

"Hey, baby..." That's when he melts completely, face hiding in the crook of Carina's neck, arms around her, and sobs a bit too loud.

She just wishes he was smaller so she could hold him fully.

"What the fuck is going on, Rina? I don't understand! Why am I like this? That's not me!" he cries. "Everything feels so different, and I just want this feeling to go away!"

"I know, baby. I know. Things are changing. You're onto big things, big results, consistency... And you're also a public figure. You're facing new things."

"And why can't I just be like Lando? Or Lewis? Or Charles? They make it all look so easy! I just... I just want to be like everyone else!"

"Oh, so you think your friends haven't felt that way? When they went through the same? I mean... Lewis is old enough to be your father so... It's been a long time." Yeah, the humor and the way she runs her fingers through his spine. It all makes the feeling sink down. "Ask Lando, or whoever. I'm sure they faced what you're facing right now. Last year you were a rookie and now you're winning races!"

Not another word in the conversation; only Oscar's body getting heavy and the sobs becoming softer and softer. Carina has no idea how much he has slept.

"You're amazing, Osc. We will get through this, okay?"

"I love you," he whispers. "So, so much... I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You would surely get no sleep. Let's go to bed, wash your face, and go to bed." Her hands travel his back a little more. "I love you too, baby. So, so much."

#lele writes ʚɞ #oscar piastri fanfic #formula 1 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #formula one imagine #f1 #f1 angst #f1 imagine #formula 1 angst #formula one #lando norris #oscar piastri angst

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fanboyoff1 · 24 days ago

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Landoscar- Losing your bags at the airport (1.7k words)

Hello all! This is based off that one tweet about Lando losing his bags at the airport and Oscar staying with him. Disclaimer- I know nothing about airports, all of this was google searched stuff, so go easy on me. (I made it an American airport because dealing with a language barrier was too complicated lol) It's mostly fluff, but I suppose a bit of angst?

Also, this is my first fic I'm posting online, so please be kind ❤️

Lando sighed loudly, blowing hair out of his face as he exhaled. He wasn’t the biggest fan of airports by principle. They’re boring, the lines are long, and the whole thing seems so much bigger than it needs to be. But it’s kind of a necessary part of his job, so he’d mostly gotten used to waiting for stupid amounts of time at airports.

But this is just kinda ridiculous. He and Oscar had been waiting for Lando’s suitcase to show up at baggage claim for… well he didn’t know how long it had been, but it was longer than he’d ever had to wait before. Even worse, Oscar’s bag had practically been the first to get dumped out onto the carousel, because of course it had. They were going to the hotel together, so Oscar was staying with him. The Aussie was on his phone, sitting on his suitcase and texting someone. Lando hated the silence, so he tore his eyes away from Oscar’s gorgeous side profile and yawned.

“This is taking foreverrr,” he said, stretching from his place crouched on the floor.

“It’s been ten minutes,” Oscar corrected, not once looking up from his phone.

“Screen-ager,” Lando decided to retaliate. Oscar looked up now, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment clear on his face. Lando looked back to the baggage carousel, satisfied by getting a reaction out of the younger man.

Oscar cleared his throat. “How about we just wait a few more minutes and then go to the baggage desk.”

“Huh?”

“The baggage desk. Where you go if you lose your luggage. It’s right there.” He pointed, and sure enough, back against the wall and a few carousels down was a little front desk-looking thing, with neon letters spelling out ‘Baggage Desk’ above it.

“Oh,” Lando mumbled, adjusting his hat.

“I’ll just tell Zak we’ll be a bit later than expected,” Oscar said, giving Lando a blinding smile that made his stomach twist with that complicated more-than-just-a-crush feeling he preferred not to think about. He hummed in response, fiddling with his hoodie strings.

After a few more minutes, everyone that had been on their flight (aka about half the Mclaren crew, including Zak and Andrea who had ditched them first chance they got) had left, and Lando was getting more and more stressed out. He was biting his lip and running his hands through his hair repeatedly, imagining practically every worse-case scenario. What if his suitcase got on the wrong flight? What if there was something bad in there he didn’t realize and they wouldn’t let him get his stuff? What if some rando took his stuff?

He didn’t realize Oscar was talking to him until a hand waved in front of his face. He looked to his teammate who was already staring at him worriedly.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, resting his hand on Lando’s arm. Lando managed a small, likely unconvincing nod.

Oscar let go of his upper arm with a gentle squeeze, and Lando might just melt away at the spot. “Well, I was asking you if you wanted to go to the baggage desk and ask about your suitcase?”

Lando nodded again and stood, walking away before even giving Oscar a chance to do so as well. He felt a bit bad as he heard Oscar scramble upright and start pulling his suitcase behind him, but it had been a long day and he really just needed to collapse into his hotel room now.

He reached the desk and made eye contact with a short woman, her long brown hair tied up in a low ponytail and wearing official looking clothes, who was standing near the back of the small room. She rushed forward and sat down in a swivel chair, pushing her glasses up.

“What’s your issue, dearie?” she said in a strong Southern accent, only slightly muffled by the thick glass separating them.

“Uh, can’t find my bag. Didn't show up,” he said with a guilty smile. He tried to turn on his charm as much as possible, his train of thought being, Maybe if I’m nice she’ll be nice back and then I can go to bed quicker.

“Alright love. Name?”

“Lando Norris,” he said. Oscar had reached him by now, standing so close to his side that their shoulders were almost brushing against each other.

The lady did some typing on her computer, then let out a little tsk sound in the back of her throat. “I’m sorry, it seems like your luggage got sent to the wrong place. We’re trying to get it here as we speak.”

Lando shot a glance back to Oscar, who raised his eyebrows. “Do you know what happened?” he asked the lady. He looked at the pin on her shirt, which said her name was Charlotte. Huh, she didn’t look like a Charlotte.

Charlotte gave a shrug in response. “Could’ve been anything. My guess, there wasn’t enough space in the cargo hold on your plane. It got placed on the wrong extra-storage space, and got sent somewhere else. You’ll have to wait until it gets here. That might take a while.”

Lando worked hard to suppress a groan. “Okay. Thanks.” He tried for a smile that ended up more like a grimace.

“You two can sit in one of those chairs on the right while you wait,” Charlotte said with a sympathetic smile. Lando turned to his right and flopped into a chair. At least they were cushioned.

This night was turning shitty fast. He just wanted to sleep, was that too much to ask? And what was even more awful about this was that Oscar had to stay with him.

“Sorry about this,” he told his friend, who looked at him confused.

“Why? It’s nothing you could control.”

“Yeah, I guess. It’s just…” he trailed off, not sure how to explain that somehow he was blaming himself for this. No, he’d never tell Oscar that, he’d think he was weird. The edge of Lando’s eyes were starting to water with tears, and he wanted to scream. You’re such a baby. What’s your problem? Bury it, you can’t do this right now. Crybaby.

“Hey, Lando, it’s okay,” Oscar said, reaching out with one hand. He touched Lando’s shoulder tenderly. “I don’t mind.”

Lando hugged his legs to his chest and buried his head in his knees. “I’m just having a bad day,” he mumbled, and for a second he wasn’t sure if Oscar heard him.

“That’s alright,” Oscar said, and he let go of Lando’s arm. Lando didn’t even get a chance to mourn the loss of contact though, because then Oscar’s arm was wrapping around his shoulders and gently tugging him closer. Lando practically fell onto his chest, and could feel his cheeks reddening.

“This okay?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“You can rest. You know, if you want. I know you’re tired.”

“Will you wake me up when my suitcase shows up?”

“Mm-hmm,” Oscar hummed, and Lando let himself sink into his embrace, their breaths and heartbeats syncing. Oscar was really cuddly, he thought as he drifted off.

# # #

“Hey, Lando, wake up.”

Osc, Lando thought and smiled. “Wake up, Lando.” Then someone was gently pushing his shoulder, and he blearily opened his eyes.

He took in his surroundings with a moment of slight confusion before remembering. The airport. His bags. Crying. Oscar.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” the man in question said, and Lando swore he felt his fingers brushing through his curls. “C’mon, your stuff got here.”

A part of Lando wanted to jump up and start doing a victory dance on the spot. The annoyance of getting up overruled it though. He was so comfy.

Wait, where exactly was he? He knew he was at the airport, but this was way too comfy for a chair. His eyes flickered around trying to figure it out, and oh God he was in Oscar’s lap. He quickly sat up, using his hands to push himself upright. However, he didn’t account for where he was putting his hands, and ended up putting half of his weight on Oscar’s thigh. Oscar let out a little grunt of pain, wincing.

“Oh shit, sorry sorry sorry,” Lando hurriedly apologized, backing up.

“No no, you’re fine,” Oscar reassured him, but his voice was strained. He looked at Lando with a smirk. “Are you trying to sabotage me, Lando Norris?”

“I’m sorry!”

Oscar just giggled and stood. He reached a hand out to Lando, who took it. He used his free hand to grab his suitcase and took off confidently to the left, not releasing his tight grasp on Lando’s hand.

“Uh, where are we going?” Lando asked, desperately trying to stop the stupid butterflies rising in his stomach. God he was so childish, they were literally just holding hands. But they were holding hands.

“To get your bag. Obviously.”

With no further explanation, he proceeded to get dragged through what felt like half the airport. Not that he minded. Every once in a while Oscar would look back and give him a trademark Osc Smile that made his insides turn to mush, so that made up for the mystery part pretty well.

Finally they reached their destination, some obscure part of the airport. A few official people gave him his suitcase along with many apologies and a crap ton of airline points (not that those were especially helpful to him, Mclaren paid for most of his flights anyways. It was a nice gesture though.) He accepted the apologies quickly, not wanting to drag out this process any longer than necessary.

Then they were in a taxi headed to their hotel, and the exhaustion was coming back ten-fold.

“Tired?” Oscar asked once Lando had yawned for the fifth time.

“Just a bit,” Lando quipped.

“Want to sleep again?”

“You’re fine with it?”

“Of course.”

Lando hesitantly let his head fall on Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar’s arm found its way around his shoulders again.

Just before Lando fell asleep again, he felt a feather-light kiss pressing against his head, and he scooted closer to Oscar with a sigh.

Here are some people who said they were interested: @slugesh, @peppysinc, @sunnykasarova, @alto-the-avocado, @lailau7904, @standgrand, @chamberkat

#lando norris #oscar piastri #landoscar #f1 #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #let me know what you think!

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wileys-russo · 11 months ago

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ausenal ‘can you just not sit still?’ travelling to London

steph catley, caitlin foord, kyra cooney-cross

"one two three four, i declare a thumb war!" you chanted, hand locked with kyras as the two of you grunted and struggled. "oh my god." steph mumbled, massaging her temples as the four of you sat in dubai airport for your layover.

"how the fuck are the two of you not tired? you did not shut up or sleep that entire flight!" caitlin groaned from beside her, head resting on her fist as you and kyra ignored them.

"winner!" you screamed happily, jumping on top of the brunette. "ow! steph." you scowled as the defender harshly smacked the back of your calf. "its four thirty in the morning here and people are clearly trying to rest. shut up!" the girl warned sternly nodding to a few other passengers curled up in chairs not far from you.

"that doesn't count we're on aussie time!" kyra slung her arm around you with a scoff. "yeah! and on aussie times its...eleven thirty seven in the morning." you checked your phone and grinned, steph only letting out a deep sigh.

"how much longer till we board?" she mumbled to caitlin. "four and a half hours." the striker answered with a sigh of her own. "we could always drug them, i'm sure theres a pharmacy somewhere in here." steph muttered, both girls seeming to contemplate the idea for a moment before abandoning it with a shake of their heads.

"oh i have cards! lets play." you remembered, swinging your backpack off and rummaging through before you found them, kyra sitting cross legged on the floor beside you.

"come on!" you pinched stephs ankle as she jolted awake and shot you a glare. "works best with four people." you shook the packet at her as kyra had successfully harassed caitlin into playing.

"one game, thats it."

though with all four of your competitive tendencies kicking in, one game quickly became five, and then ten. steph tapping out as they announced your connecting flight was delayed a further three and a half hours due to an engine issue.

"oh you've gotta be fucking kidding." caitlin groaned, you and kyra quite unbothered as you packed away the cards. "ky and i are gonna go find food." you dropped your backpack on top of steph who grunted and pushed it off with an annoyed huff, the two of you racing off before she could say another word.

"do you reckon they accept aussie dollars?" kyra realised as the two of you stood in front of a vending machine, all of the food kiosks closed for another hour due to the time. "no but they should accept this." you grinned plucking your debit card out of your pocket.

"what! i thought steph took yours? caitlins got mine." kyra groaned, the two of you having had your 'pocket money' privileges revoked after you'd decided to buy out basically the entire vending machine at camp, most of which was shared with harper and harley and caused a sugar high chaos.

"sticky fingers ky, sticky fingers." you smirked, having swiped it out of stephs wallet when she was distracted. "oh like in home alone! the sticky bandits." kyra beamed, having admitted to never having seen the movie you'd forced her to watch a whole stack of christmas films over camp.

"see! and you thought you didn't need a christmas movie education."

"jesus christ we're here for a few more hours not a few days!" caitlin shook her head as you and kyra returned, arms laden with all sorts of treats both sweet and savory. "you are not eating anything that has sugar in it before the flight, over my dead body." steph warned sternly, making quick work to try and snatch everything she deemed a danger.

little did they know you and kyra had assumed this would be the case, the majority of the sweet treats hidden away in pockets, kyras bum bag or on your persons.

"do we stop them?" caitlin sighed, wedged into the chair beside steph as you and kyra took off again to explore. "no, if they run off their energy now maybe they'll actually sleep this next flight." steph pointed out, hopeful but realistic that likely wouldn't happen.

so they left the two of you to it, grateful you'd finally left them be much as they worried what the two of you were up to, the last thing they needed was to have to bail you out of trouble with security in another country let alone in dubai.

"where the hell are they? the flight boards in five minutes!" steph stressed, trying both of your phones again which rang out. those five minutes passed, then another ten, and with seconds to spare before they considered just leaving the two of you behind suddenly you and kyra skidded around the corner into view.

"sorry! we got lost and then kyra-" you started to explain but with a murderous look from both your older team mates you fell silent, accepting your bag which was shoved into your chest and silently filing onto the plane after them.

"no! you two are being separated." steph warned as you tried to sit beside kyra, frowning and moving the seat behind so you were next to steph instead.

getting through takeoff both you and kyra were quiet, steph and caitlin both praying that meant you had indeed tired yourselves out. but as the seatbelt sign went off and steph had just started to doze off she heard you moving about, tossing and turning and huffing.

"can you just not sit still?" the defender groaned tiredly, head turning to shoot you a look as you sent her a sheepish smile. "i'm not tired!" you shrugged honestly. "watch a movie or something then, just be quiet. please!" the older girl sighed deeply as you nodded.

it seemed to have worked as steph began to doze off, but the very obvious opening of a packet of something caused her to shoot back up, catching you in the act of shoving a chocolate bar in your mouth.

"give it." steph warned, holding her hand out as you sighed and handed it over. "all of them." the girl shot you a firm look as you deflated and grabbed out the bag, watching with a broken heart as steph hid them away in her own luggage.

"you know steffy you are the worst travel buddy ever." "funny, could say the exact same about you kid. now be quiet, please!"

#woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #steph catley x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #caitlin foord x reader #woso community #awfc x reader

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adventuringblind · 10 months ago

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Celebratory Kissing?

Logan Sargeant X Reader X Oscar Piastri

Genre: Fluffy smut

Summary: Oscar gets his first win and celebratory activities ensue.

Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, switch Logan if you squint, subspace for reader and Logan (eventually), SOFT dom Oscar (a simp is what he is), oral (both receiving), fingers, unprotected sex (don't try this at home kids), Praise, oral fixation, marking/biting

Notes: Another request! haven't done a smut in a while. I might be a wee bit rusty...

Side note: I finished this mere hours after I had to put my dog down 😬

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

A sprint win is still a win. An argument she is determined to put to an end should Oscar tell her otherwise. This is an achievement and should be recognized as such.

Logan appears in front of her. His body absolutely gleaming with sweat and hair tussled from his helmet. "You look wrecked."

"The good kind I hope." She hands him the water she's holding, and he holds eye contact while trying to drink it. Only to fail miserably and dump it everywhere.

"It's about fifty-fifty. Half like Oscar just ruined you and the other half like you might be sick."

"Jokes on you, I probably am!"

She stares at the McLaren garage where Oscar has been swept off to. "Do you think he'll accept it as a win?"

"Maybe, I'm not sure yet." Logan crosses his arms and follows her gaze. "We could always convince him it's a win." He wiggles his eyebrows. The last part coming out quieter.

"But you two have to race tomorrow!"

"And I'm not suggesting anything crazy, I would like to be able to walk still. That doesn't mean we can't make it good."

She hums thoughtfully at the proposal. "He won't go for it."

"Trust me, he will." Logan takes his hand in hers and swings their arms back and forth. "We've been doing this for almost two years now. I think we can bring it out of him."

"Lo, I swear to god, if you get us in trouble, I will never let you hear the end of it."

~~~~~

She really shouldn't have been so shocked when Logan dragged her back to the hotel promising Oscar a 'surprise' for his victory. The Aussie had given them a questioning look, but just shrugged them off. A quick word about staying hydrated was thrown in there.

Now she's sitting on the edge of the bed, freshly showered and patiently waiting for Logan to tell her what his plan it. He's been digging through Oscar's luggage for the last five minutes mumbling about disorganization.

Finally, he pulls out the tightly wound coil of rope and makes a triumphant 'ah-ha' sound.

"You were looking for rope?"

"Yup!"

"And what are you going to do with said rope? Oscar is the only one with enough patience to manage any kind of Shabari-" Logan shuts her up by starting to tie the rope around her wrist.

"This okay?"

"It would be more okay if you told me what we were doing." She huffs in annoyance.

Logan rolls his eyes dramatically. "Figured I'd put you down first. Get you to that headspace that drives him feral."

She has to suppress the whine that threatens to leave her throat. "What about you?"

"One of us has to be coherent until he gets here. He can do what he wants after that. We just need him to see you first." Logan finishes the rope on her wrists, successfully securing them behind her back. "Not saying I'm not enticing, mind you. I just know how to put you down faster than the other way around."

Which - okay, Logan isn't wrong there. Oscar seems to hit the sweet spot with him where she can't. Not for a lack of trying, she just does not have the tone of voice that send her American partner over the edge. "Well played, Sargeant."

"I thought it was clever." She can't see him, still settled behind her. It doesn't matter. She knows he's smirking; can feel it in the open-mouthed kisses he's placing on her spine. It's ridiculous how much simple touch affects her.

"You slip so easily."

"Shut up."

It doesn't help that she's completely bare. Logan still has his sweats on, which only makes her feel vulnerable.

His hands trace the outline of her curves. They drag against the more sensitive areas with a nimble sort of ease. She lets out a happy sigh in response.

His teeth latch onto her shoulder. He bites and sucks a mark that will definitely be visible tomorrow. Logan's always had an oral fixation. Constantly chewing on the ends of his hoodie strings, chewing on pens and pencils, the sheer number of lollys in the house is ungodly. Oscar has used this to his advantage too many times to count. Zoom meeting at the number one offender.

Logan manages to bite all the way down her arm. He slips himself lower to get a better angle on her hips. Fingers bruise her thighs with an impossibly iron grip that he really doesn't need to have.

He attaches to her neck, spinning her around so face him. Logan slides his wet tongue from her throat to her lips. He shoves his tongue down her throat without warning. Successfully making it so she can't breathe; suffocated but only him. Only Logan and his stupidly nimble tongue exist in this moment.

He lets her breath again, only to push her backward onto the bed. Saliva drips all across her body as his tongue slides downwards.

Logan's is panting against her by the time he's finally in between her legs. "You're terribly wet, baby." He licks everywhere except where she needs him most. "Do you want my tongue? Are you going to be good for me while we wait for Osc?"

"I promise - please Lo, need you."

All sense of coherency leaves the second Logan's tongue starts lapping up her arousal. His hands grip her thigs to keep them spread apart.

Her hands would be in his hair if they could. instead, they grip the sheets underneath her. Anything to keep somewhat present. It doesn't work. Her mind is already swimming while the blonde moans into her core, teeth grazing her clit and driving her to the brink of insanity.

Her legs shake as his tongue slips in and out of her. She chokes out his name, on getting close to the point of no return.

He pulls away. Not fully, just enough to stop contact. Went tongue retreating through glistening lips.

IN the background, the sound of the door unlocking startles them both. Logan frantically strips the rest of his clothes in record time, helps her to the floor and manages to get them both into some kind of waiting position.

"I hope whatever you to are planning involves sleep at some point-" Oscar flicks the lights on and she can feel his eyes burning holes into them. "Please tell me you haven't been like this for the last hour?"

They shake their heads no as Oscar looks them over. He grabs Logan's chin and swipes his tongue across the American's bottom lip. "You taste like her. Tell me what you did."

"Got her ready for you."

"I can see that. She's staring at us with that look in her eyes." Oscar moves to her next, dropping Logan's chin and softly patting her cheek. She keens into his touch, aching for some kind of contact again. "Is this my surprise? A good night with two beautifully obedient partners?" His voice is soft with a hint of a condescending tone.

"Wanted to make sure you know that it's a win." There it is. He has Logan in the palm of his hand, whining and slurring his words.

Oscar looks like he might melt. "I think I've already won everything I need to. I have you two kneeling in front of me. That being said, you've got me worked up and it would be a shame not to take advantage of your wonderful surprise."

Oscar undoes the rope around her wrists and helps them up off their knees and onto the bed. "Nothing hard tonight. I'd hate for you to be sore tomorrow, Lo." He kisses them both. Hands gripping their chins and alternating who's mouth he's exploring.

It's heaven. The place with these two. The fuzzy, floaty feeling in her mind only registers them and their touches.

"You did good with her, Lo. Bet you're ready to go, yeah?"

It's the first time she's actually seen how hard the American is. Oscar strokes him a few times, slowly, thumb swiping away the pre-cum that had leaked out.

Oscar jams two fingers into her without warning. "Wow, you really did get her ready. Was this all your tongue baby?"

A third finger slips in. She's dripping liquid all the way down to his wrist. The pathetic whining sounds she's making are outrageous and should be embarrassing. She's to blissed out to care.

Oscar manhandles them to where he wants. Her body shudders as she accepts Logan's length, straddling over the top of him. "Come on, love. You want to make him feel good, yes?" She'd want to do anything Oscar tells her to, really, but she can't say as much.

Regardless, she rolls her hips and moans at the feeling. Logan's mouth goes slack, and Oscar takes the opportunity to slam his dick into Logan's mouth.

It doesn't take her horribly long to get close again. The skin on skin and roll of hips. The impatience of Logan as he tries to buck his hips upward in time with her.

"Osc, please." He crashes his lips onto hers and moans into her mouth.

He pulls away just a tiny bit and clasps a hand around her throat. "Go ahead, cum for be."

Logan slams up into her a few more times before he finishes. She lets herself fall into the abyss of white-hot pleasure. Brain only focused on one thing.

She can hear Logan coughing as Oscar slams into his throat.

It all ends too fast for her liking, and she looks at Oscar expectantly. Waiting and wanting for more.

Oscar pulls her off Logan and lays her body down on top of him. The Aussie take his time exploring their shivering bodies. The amount of concealer they are going to need tomorrow will be ungodly.

"This doesn't feel like the celebratory kissing I'd hoped for," whines Logan.

"Tell you two what: If I can get second tomorrow then I'll make sure neither of you can walk for a week." Oscar huffs. "Also, I'd appreciate it if we could refrain from calling it celebratory kissing."

"But it's tradition!"

"I feel like we've came a bit farther then just celebratory kisses..."

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gamermaxy · 4 days ago

Text

max needs an orange cat

'come on,' daniel chases the big, orange maine coon across the living room of his shared flat. the little scrap of clothing is clutched in one hand and treats are in the other. 'let me put this on you, your papa is gonna love it.'

at the sound of his papa, rocky stops, beady yellow eyes boring into daniel's. the aussie grabs him, taking the cat between his legs and ties the little handkerchief around his neck.

'good boy,' the man cooes, stroking rocky's long, soft fur until he purrs. opening the wet treat, daniel offers it to the creature that has only just learnt to tolerate him. rocky licks at the tube incessantly, forcing daniel to practically empty the tube in one motion. 'that wasn't so bad, was it? you look so handsome. good boy, rocky.'

rocky lets out a little chirp and sits for daniel to take a barrage of photos of him before skittering off at the sound of one of the other cats. daniel listens as the scratch of his claws against the floor fade into silence.

----

a little text lets daniel know that max has just gotten off the plane and is on his way home. he frantically searches for rocky, calling out the cat's name and half yelling pspsps around the apartment.

'rocky, come on, buddy,' he calls out, shaking a bag of dreamies. jimmy bolts out of the bathroom and pulls at daniel's leg for a treat. the australian is weak to saying no to any of max's children so he opens the bag and drops a foul-smelling treat on the floor. 'there you go, now help me find rocky.'

jimmy lets out a cry for another treat but saunters off when he realises that daniel does not currently care for him. daniel can't deny that the cat gave him the stink eye and mutters a prick under his breath before looking for max's orange son.

'rocky, come on, papa will be home soon,' he pleads, hoping the furry creature will have mercy on him. 'we got you all nice and dressed up for him.'

daniel sighs at the lack of fur running towards him and endeavours to the bedroom, patting on any and every lump on the bed until one yells back at him.

'ah, there you are,' daniel glares at the creature, all curled up and glaring back at him. he carries the cat into the front room and past a picture of his namesake, max's beloved rb19 before closing the door. 'you're not going anywhere until papa sees you.'

rocky lets out an impressed chirp and headbutts at the treats in daniel's hand until the aussie is forced to placate the creature with as many as he demands.

'don't eat so quickly, i'm not cleaning your barf off the carpet,' daniel says, giving yet another treat to the purring kitty. rocky crawls into daniel's lap, purring into each pet.

the cat startles as the door opens but scampers off the spare human's lap to his papa.

'hej, rocky,' max whispers into the maine coon's fur, scratching at his fluffy chin. 'what has your dad dressed you in?'

max pulls back to properly admire the little handkerchief around rocky's neck. it's got four stars embroidered on it, not dissimilar to the one he wore when he first got the cat. only, now, he's wearing one more star...

'congratulations on another championship, baby,' daniel whispers, pulling max into a kiss. beneath them. rocky lets out a frustrated wail at the loss of attention from his beloved papa.

#maxiel

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trulyhblue · 11 months ago

Text

MISS AUSTRALIA (PART TWO)

Katie McCabe x Aussie! Chelsea! Reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, jealousy, praise kink, semi-public sex, coarse language, Chelsea mentions, little age gap, humiliation, drinking.

Masterlist

______________________________

You don't know what coerced you to spend the night in Katie McCabe's bed, but it felt amazing.

Chelsea's loss against Arsenal sent shockwaves through the WSL side of social media, with a skyrocket of tweets spreading the news regarding the Blue's greatest defeat in five years.

It was not a surprise to see your name mentioned in thousands of these messages, and your connotation to Katie hadn't seemed to surprise anyone either. Lots of people were reeling over the interactions between the two of you on the field, but you wondered what their reaction would be if they found out what happened off the pitch.

Somehow, you didn't want to know.

Despite the thrashing you received from Emma, you, Jessie, Erin, Millie, Sam, and Guro all found yourselves in a pub in North London. It seemed hypocritical — the location — but the vibes were good, and it was a well-known, crowded bar, so the chances of you being seen were slim to none.

While Jessie was the designated driver for you that night, the rest of the girls didn't hesitate to start drinking. You were playing with the straw of your third vodka cranberry, savouring the taste between your teeth, smiling at the quips and jokes the girls would pose, checking the time on your phone as the hours passed later in the night.

"I just know I'm going to regret this tomorrow." Guro sighed, shooting down the last of her drink before standing up. "My shout now, what do you all want?"

Sam and Millie ordered a bulk of shots. Jessie and Erin chose the drinks they had before. You shook your head towards Guro, lifting your half-full drink that you were still nursing.

Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulder, waving Guro off. "You've been on the same drink for an hour. C'mon, have a shot with me."

You glanced across the table to find Erin shuffling a deck of cards. Jessie was on her phone, leaving you sandwiched between Bright and Kerr. You were a football player, an athlete, but you weren't as bulky as your two Chelsea companions. You tried hard in the gym, and anyone could tell that it paid off, but too many drinks would sway you in the wrong direction.

"Are you old enough to drink?" Millie asked, half sincerely, ruffling your hair when you gave her a pointed glare. "I'm only joking, Kid."

"I'm twenty-two. I just like taking care of my body." You spoke with a huff, throwing your arms over your chest, eyes dancing between your two skippers.

"Oh, and all those hickeys are taking care of you, are they?" Guro retorted, Erin's smirk matching hers as she returned with the tray of drinks. You watched her slide a shot towards you, which you took instantly at the looming eyes on your neck from your Australian Captain.

"Since when were those there?" She swooped, her hand reaching out to poke at the marks. You hissed, the exposed blotches still sensitive, shrinking in your seat as all five of your teammates caught your reddening cheeks.

"Fresh ones, eh?" Millie grinned.

While the girls found this new susceptible mystery a highlight of the night, Sam continued to prod at the marks, her protectiveness prominent by the furrow in her eyebrows.

"Who gave you those?" She let out, and you felt your face flame up.

"I'm not talking about it."

"You didn't have them this morning." Guro quipped, earning Jessie to push her scoldingly, feeling slightly sorry for the interrogation you were receiving.

"Jesus, y/n/n, I didn't know you had it in ya—"

"— had what in her?" A voice called out from beside the table, making each of your friends move their eyes away from you and to the source.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, you thought. Great, just your luck.

Katie was standing behind Beth, who was linking elbows with Jordon Nobbs. Caitlin, Leah, and Steph all stood among them, Steph being the one who spoke.

"Nothing. Where's Ky?" You sounded, your voice meek underneath the prying Arsenal eyes.

"Wrong side of London, Skipper." Caitlin laughed.

Sam rolled her eyes. "Good drinks, though."

You shuffled across the lounge you were sitting on, attempting to maneuver yourself over Jessie's lap to escape. You felt a hand grip the back of your skirt, causing you to plop on one of Jessie's legs.

"You can't just avoid the conversation."

"Sammy, stop." You squirmed over Jessie, who used her hands to lift your waist up. "Where's Kyra?" You asked again, hopelessly avoiding the Irish woman's levering eyes. She was watching Jessie's hand on your waist; how her fingers played with the hem of your top as you battled to fight Sam's hand away. Katie noticed how Jessie spread her legs out, engulfing your body weight more comfortably, as if she was used to having you in that position.

The Irish woman wanted to mock the playful whines that left your lips as everyone questioned what the two Australians were fighting over. She caught sight of the bruise she had left under your ear, recalling the heavy whines and desperate breaths that followed as her lips lapped over the delicate skin. The mark offered Katie some comfort in your current situation. The grand display of pink smearing across your freckled cheeks was admirable to most, but Katie found you much more pleasurable when you beat red at the sound of her voice, when you were grinding against her knee, not Fleming's.

"She went to the bathroom, I think." Beth Mead spoke, her friendly, maternal smile glowing back at you. "Actually, she could be anywhere. 'Can never sit still, that girl."

"Alright, let me go check."

You didn't wait for anyone to stop you, stumbling off Jess' lap, head spinning from the alcohol running through your system. You could handle your liquor to some extent, but it was after this that you went beyond tipsy. Your journey to the bathroom was quick, wasting no time to find your best friend, wherever she may be.

The cubicles were all empty. You tried calling out her name, calling her on your phone, but the little shit didn't answer. The pub was now reeling with people, with all levels of tipsy and drunk being shown by the dancing of the crowd. You were struggling to find your way back to your girls, forgetting the way you came. You gave up trying after five minutes, turning around and opening the bathroom doors once more.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, pushing and pinning you against one of the cubicle doors. It slammed shut, your back planted against the wood. You felt your hands fondle together, your heart racing at the hungry, lustful eyes of the woman in front of you. Her breath fanned over your face, causing your lips to fall agape, a loss of words leaving you speechless. It wasn't long until Katie's lips were on your neck, this time on the opposite side, nibbling on your pulse point.

"You really can't hold it in, can you?" She uttered, her accent rasping as she spoke. You groaned at the notion of her fingers latching onto the top you were wearing, tugging it in warning before discarding it on the floor.

"What?" You sighed, hands wrapping around Katie's neck as she lifted you up, gripping your thighs as they swathed around her waist.

"On Fleming's lap, Kerr's hand on your arse. Are you always so desperate for attention?"

She wasted no time in moving her lips down to your breasts, freeing one of her hands from your thigh to massage the one she wasn't sucking.

"Katie—"

"Shut up."

You grind your hips against hers, hoping it will relieve the growing tension between your legs. With your bra still on, Katie laughs at your flushed state, pushing up the fabric of your skirt so it would bunch up against your hips.

"Did you shake everyone's hands?" She asked, her lips leaving your chest to move up to your face. She hadn't ever properly kissed you, so she made sure to hover as she waited for a reply, her fingers slowly squeezing the column of your neck.

You nodded, still trying to gain some friction, but were met with nothing. The only noise that came from your lips was a whine. Katie shook her head, kneading your thigh as she rubbed her nose up against yours. The action was intimate, but somehow Katie found a way to make it sensual.

“Use your words, Baby.” She made a point of tapping your neck with her finger, toying with your skirt as her hand crept up your thigh.

“I- mh… I did, Katie.”

“Good Girl.” She whispered, and you pushed your lips forward to catch the girl in a kiss. You were grateful she reciprocated with just as much force, asserting her dominance by bringing her hand up to your lips, dragging your bottom lip down, making you audibly cry out.

“You like that, do you?” She chuckled, her hand inching closer to your heat. “Had to shake everyone’s hands before getting off on my thigh, didn't you? Had to make sure you did as you were told.”

“Katie, please—”

“But good girls don't sit on other people’s laps, do they Baby?” She whispered, ghosting her hand over your underwear. “Answer me.”

“No, Katie.”

You pushed your head back against the door, groaning as Katie ran one of her fingers through your folds teasingly. Your legs gave way, no longer trying to hold yourself up around Katie’s waist. Despite the lack of warning, the Irish woman wasn't fazed at the sudden shift, instead using it to her advantage.

“Look at you… so desperate for attention. Is that why you landed on top of me today? Bent over for me and everything in a sold-out stadium weren't you?”

You felt her hand rub your clit, making you squirm. “You tripped me.” It was a whisper, but Katie heard it all the same.

Her eyebrows raised. “I did. But you went off before I could show everyone how well you could take me.”

Without warning, she slipped two of her fingers into you, gnawing at your neck as she thrust in and out of you rhythmically. You moaned, and blushed furiously because of it.

“Does Fleming touch you like this?”

“Can you fuck off about Jessie for one second?”

Katie scoffed, adding another finger, inserting her fingers into you until her knuckles were kneading your clit. You moaned at the sting, crying out when Katie didn't wait for you to adjust. She did this for a while, and you felt the coil in your stomach churn as she curled her fingers inside of you, slamming them as deep as she could, resonant and rigid strokes leaving you writhing in ecstasy.

“Katie— Katie—”

She stopped, her fingers leaving you clenching around nothing. You were so close, feeling your high fizzle out the moment her fingers moved to her lips.

“I asked you a fucking question. ‘Spose you just get too dumb when you're being fucked.”

You whined, your hands clawing her biceps, beyond annoyed by the way she left you. “I- Jess and I are friends.”

“I bet Fleming wasn't too happy when you scored that double against her in the World Cup.”

You gaped at Katie, legs shaking and lips puffy. “You definitely weren't when I scored against you.”

Katie was off you now, standing against the bathroom sink, watching as you tried to fix your skirt.

“What happened today then, hm? Miss Australia lost her touch as soon as she was bent over.”

“Stop calling me that. And I wasn't bent over, you tripped me!”

“Did I tell ‘ya to fix your skirt?” She ordered, crossing her arms over her chest when you sauntered in front of her.

“You’re not the boss of me, McCabe.”

“Then how ‘bout you show me some personal autonomy and get yourself off?” She quipped, lust flooding her eyes. She propped herself on the sink, watching intently as your eyes widened at her suggestion. It seemed that all of your prior confidence had dispersed.

“I'm not doing that in here.” You muttered, suddenly repentant of the setting you were in.

“You nearly just came on my fingers. What's the difference?”

Whatever dominance you seemed to gain over Katie didn't work, the woman making no sign of backing down from her proposition.

“I— Katie… I'm not going to beg.”

She simply hummed, causing you to sigh. You were desperate for a release ever since that afternoon when you had been too stubborn to get off her knee, feeling the desperation of your hormones haunt you ever since. The thought of getting yourself off in front of the girl you hated so much made you squirm. The thought of someone walking in and seeing such an illustrative sight would've sent you into a frenzy.

But all of these thoughts dispersed at the sight of Katie in front of you, leaning against the mirror with her signature smirk. You reeled in the jumper she was wearing that hit the veins and muscles of her arms you always looked at during games. You noticed the crumple of her trousers, where you had inevitably been. Her hair was sweaty, her cheeks tinted at the sight of your unruliness. It made you repent. It made you want Katie even more.

“I want you.” You stated matter of factly, walking forward so that you were standing in between her legs.

“Do you now?” She looked down at you possessively, pretending to be in deep thought.

You nodded. She leaned in, taking hold of your chin. “Beg for it, Baby.”

She moved down from her place on the counter, dragging you to face the mirror. Pushing your hips against the cool marble surface, you watched as Katie caged your figure, sucking gently on your shoulder, taking her sweet time to reach your preexisting hickeys.

“Please, Katie, I need you so bad.” You whined, feeling her hips grind into you from behind. “I need you, you— you make me feel so good. Want you really bad.”

“Mhm, what else, baby?” She continued to place wet, sloppy kisses up your neck, licking across the new bruises, smirking at the mess she was turning you into.

“Wanna feel you inside of me. Wanna cum so hard from your fingers and your mouth, everything. Just want you to touch me, use me. Please use me, Baby, I‘ll do anything.”

The nickname she had been calling you fell from your lips before you had the chance to stop yourself. You knew that Katie would never let you live this down, but, for utterly selfish reasons, you made sure your voice was extra whiny, extra innocent, hoping your plea would help you get off.

Katie stopped kissing you, turning you around and smashing her lips up against yours. You knew your begging had worked when her fingers worked their way back into your underwear. When she entered two of her fingers this time, you weren't surprised at the lack of warning. Instead, you relished the feeling of pleasure shivering through your body. You moaned as her knuckles grazed over your clit, her hips pushing her further into the counter, making you lean back on your elbows.

“Bent back for you, Baby.” You moaned, hoping she’d keep going if you were louder. “I want to be— wanna be good.”

“That's it, nice and loud for me. Wanted me so bad you needed to beg. Good girls get rewards; don't they, baby girl?”

You groaned as she pounded into you relentlessly, her spare hand holding your hips in place as you neared your high. Katie felt your walls clench around her fingers, the wet juices of your arousal squelching in and out, coating Katie’s fingers. The sound of your wetness, alongside your moans, echoed throughout the bathroom, earning Katie to groan and the smell of sex surrounding you two.

“I’m— close.” You chocked out, feeling your clit grow sensitive as Katie’s knuckles pinched it hard.

Katie groaned, the sight of her head falling back bringing you to the brink of falling over the edge. “Ask nicely.”

“Please, Baby, I need to so bad. Want to cum around your fingers, please? Please, Baby.”

“Be a good girl for me, baby girl. Let it out. Show me who makes you feel this way.”

You felt Katie thrust into you harder and faster, causing you to let go of the pent-up climax closing in on you.

She continued to hit your G-spot deeply as you rode out your high, feeling your orgasm leak all over her fingers and into her hand. You cried out at the relief of it all, trying to catch your breath by settling into your elbows. You found Katie watching you recover, her lips swollen and eyes fully blown in euphoria at the sight of you post-sex. Her hair was messier than before, her smirk widening as you tried to stand up properly, whining when your legs violently shook.

She kissed the alcove of her neck, taking off her jumper to reveal a vest that displayed her arms in the perfect way.

“Should've taken that off before.” You managed to breathe out, accepting the way Katie scooped you up onto the counter, grabbing tissue paper and running it underwater, letting you fix your clothes up. You did this by putting your shirt back on and fixing your underwear.

“Put that jumper on.” She muttered, moving over to you, using her hands to open your legs. She began to clean up your thighs, which had been covered in sweat and arousal that couldn't have been concealed underneath your short skirt.

“Why?” You sighed at the cool temperature of the tissue, turning the top half of your body to face the mirror, nearly choking on air when you saw the number of hickeys decorating your neck.

“Oh my fucking god, Katie. I've got training tomorrow!”

Katie straightened up after cleaning you, flushing the tissue down the toilet. She walked up to stand between your legs, smiling at the bruises littering your neck and chest.

“Will Fleming be there?”

You scoffed, observant of the way Katie rubbed your thighs. “Obviously.”

“Then I've done my job well.”

You tried to hide your smile by picking up your phone, eyes bulging when you saw the missed calls from Kyra.

Now you were fucked.

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footballfanficwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Absent

Summary:where Kylian promises his son to be there for his match but doesn't show

Maman ou est papa" ( Mom where is Dad?")

"Je ne sais pas, ma chérie" ( I don't know my darling))

Kylian was supposed to be here by now, Théo is playing today after being on the bench because of an injury, Kylian promised he would be there but I don't think he will

I try calling him for the 5th time today and it goes straight to voicemail

I sigh and look at my son whose putting his cleats on

"Is he coming?"

"I don't think so Théo"

He looks at me with a sad look that I instantly want to remove from his face

He hugs me tightly and I hug him back, I then pull away and look at him, then wipe away the tears that have escaped his eyes

"Je suis la, amour" ( I'm here, love)

"Ok Maman, je t'aime beaucoup" ( ok mom, I love you so much)

"Je t'aime beaucoup aussi Théo" (I love you so much as well Théo)

"I don't want to go"

"C'mon, you'll do great"

"But he's not here"

"Yeah, but I am, do it for me, can you play for me today Théo?"

"Ok, I'll play for you mom"

"Merci, ok now go"

He hands me his bag and waves at me, I wave back at him and give him a smile

I make my way to the stands and watch Théo, I pick my phone up and try to call Kylian again, maybe he can make it just in time before the second half, but it's no use it goes straight to voicemail again

The match starts and I put my phone away giving up on calling Kylian, I just want to focus on my son's match

The first half goes on and I see Théo look my way, then the empty seat next to me

He looks sad, angry and frustrated

The ref blows the whistle indicating that the second half has begun

Théo, sprints to the opponent and manages to get the ball

He passes it to one of his teammates then his teammate passes back to him, he dribbles past the defender and shoots the ball, then scores

He celebrates and points to me,blows a kiss towards me then makes a heart

I stand up and clap for him and he mouths "I love you mom"

I mouth back to him, "I love you too Théo"

By the 90th minute Théo's team has won 5-0 and Théo has scored 3 goals and assisted in the other 2

After the match he walks up to me and I hand him his water bottle

"Good job honey I'm so proud of you"

"Thanks mom"

I pick him up and he lays his head on my shoulder

"Can we please go home now"

"Ok, let's go"

I walk to the car and put him in the back seat, we then drive home in silence, and I'm occasionally glancing back to see him with a sad look on his face

"Théo"

"Maman?"

"Are you hungry?"

"No, I just wanna go home"

"Do you want to play FC24, when we get home?"

"No, I'm just tired, I think I'm going to sleep"

I give him a look that says really

"After I take a bath"

"Don't you want to spend some time with me, we can watch cars, or monsters inc., any movie you want to watch"

"Yeah, maybe after my nap"

"Ok, hey you know I was thinking maybe we can make cookies, do you want to help?"

"Not today mom, I don't think I'm in the mood"

"Ok, do you want me to help you with your bath?"

"No, I'm a big boy, I can do it myself"

"Ok"

The rest of the car ride is silent until we get home

Théo, gets out of the car and walks into the house while dragging his bag with him

I sigh and walk into the house and find his cleats and shoes placed neatly in the little shoe cupboard, usually I have to tell him to it, but today seems different

I go to the kitchen and get started on dinner

"Maman"

"Mhm?"

"Can you please help me"

I turn around, and see Théo struggling to take his shirt off

I slightly chuckle and walk towards him to help him

"What happened to the big boy?"

"He needs his mom's help"

"Clearly"

I help him take his shirt off then carry him to the bathroom, then open the taps making sure that the water is the right temperature for him, I then add his favorite bubble bath into the water, and he gets in

He puts some bubbles on his hair and starts playing with his bath toys

"What type of big boy plays with toys in the bath?"

"Ok fine, I'm still a small boy"

I chuckle and start bathing him, afterwards I wrap him up in a towel then carry him to his room and place him on the bed, and start taking out some clothes

He moisturizes himself then put on the clothes that I laid out for him

"Do you still want to take your nap"

He nods his head in a tired way and climbs onto his bed, grabs a thrower and lays his head on the pillow, I kiss his forehead and he smiles saying

"Thank you mommy"

"You're welcome Théo"

I walk out of his room and go back to the kitchen to continue making dinner

After 2 hours I hear the front door open, he's here

He walks into the kitchen and looks at me but I ignore his gaze

"Ça va, amour"

"Amour"

"Ma chérie"

He walks closer to me but i move away

"Lassie Moi" I say (leave me alone)

"C'est quoi le problème?" He asks ( what's the matter?)

"Ah bon, t'es sérieuse, Kylian" I ask ( really, are you serious Kylian?)

"C'est quoi c'est pas" ( what happened?")

"C'est ton fils, il est triste" I say ( it's your son, he's sad)

"Mais pourquoi" he asks (but why?)

"Pasque il son père" (because of his dad)

"Moi?" (Me?)

"Oui, toi" ( yes you)

"What did I do now?"

"So you didn't know that your son was playing today, after he told you two weeks ago and kept reminding you so you wouldn't forget"

He looks at me with shock, like I've just told him the most suprising news

"Mon Dieu, Kylian he even told you this morning before he went to school"

"He's match was today?"

I let out a frustrated sigh

"Where were you even, huh, and why was you phone going to voicemail everytime I tried calling you?"

"I was with Archaf, and I lost track of time"

"You lost track of time doing what?"

He's quiet

"What were you doing Kylian?"

"I was busy"

"You know what I don't even want to know, just get away from me"

"Where is Théo anyway"

"He's sleeping, he took a bath and went straight to bed"

I hear him sigh behind me

"I'm sorry"

"You're apologizing to the wrong person"

"Then I'll go and apologize to Théo"

"No he's asleep, don't wake him up"

"So what must I do then?"

"I don't care, just don't bother the child"

He goes upstairs and goes to our shared room, I the hear the shower taps, indicating that he's taking a shower

30 minutes later, I'm done making dinner and it seems Kylian is done taking his shower and he walks downstairs

I dish up 3 plates of food then go to the table and place them there

I then go upstairs to wake Théo up

"Théo"

"Amour"

He opens his eyes and looks at me

"Maman?"

"Ouies, c'est Moi amour, est que faim" (yeah it's me love, are you hungry?"

"Oui je faim" (yes, I'm hungry)

"On y va"(let's go)

I pick him up and we go downstairs,when we get to the dining table we find Kylian already there waiting for us, I place Théo in the seat next to me, where there's a plate of food

We eat dinner in silence until Kylian breaks it

"Théo"

"Papa"

"Je suis très désolé, mon fils"

"C'est bien papa"

"Ah bon?"

He nods his head

"But why were you not there, how come you didn't come to my match?" Théo asks with his voice slightly breaking

Kylian looks at me and I look at Théo

"I was busy" Kylian says

"With what"

"Théo, arrête ici c'est pas ton problème" (Théo, stop, this is not your problem"

"Ouies mais c'est mon problème" I say (yeah but it's my problem)

"Je travaillerai" he says ( I was working)

"Avec quoi?( with what?)

"Rien" ( nothing)

"T'es sérieuse, t'es fou ou quoi, t'es travaille avec rien?" (are you serious, are you mad or what, you were working with nothing?)

"Oui" he says (yes)

"You must think I'm an idiot"

"But I was working"

"Papa, s'il te plaît" Théo says (dad please)

"Théo, this is non of your business"

"Then why weren't you there?" Théo asks

"I was busy"(Kylian says)

"Théo, arrête je parle avec ton père, go to your room" I say ( Théo, stop, I'm talking to your dad)

He gets out of his seat and walks upstairs

"Are you serious, are you not going to tell me what you were so busy with that you had to miss your son's first match, after the injury he had?"

"All you need to know is that I was busy"

"Are you cheating on me?"

"What, no"

"Then what were you so busy with"

"Nothing"

"Fine, since you don't want to tell me, I'll be sleeping with Théo today" I say standing up from my seat, "you can sleep in the guest room or on the sofa, also do the dishes before you go to bed"

I walk upstairs and go to Théo's room

"C'mon, let's go" I say

"Where are we going?"

"To my room"

"Why?"

"You're sleeping with me"

"Can we watch movies and stay up all night"

"Yeah, we can"

"Can we start with Marvel movies"

"I was thinking the same thing"

We go back downstairs and pick out some snacks for the movie

"Not so many sweets Théo"

"Ok"

After picking some snacks and deciding what movies to watch, we go back upstairs to my room and put the movie on the TV

I tuck Théo into the bed and his tiny head sticks out from under the covers

"Maman?"

"Yeah?"

"Is Daddy going to leave us forever?"

"No, my love, he's not, me and your father are just having a bit of a disagreement"

"What's that?"

"It's when two people don't see eye to eye on something, but in the end they always work it out"

"You promise?"

"I promise Amour, now stop worrying about that and let's focus on the movie,ok?"

"Ok"

The rest of the night is spent watching movies till the early hours of the morning

Théo eventually falls asleep, cuddled up to me like I'm a teddy bear

I switch the TV off and kiss Théo's forehead and he snuggles into me, I close my eyes and fall asleep

439 notes · View notes

venusacrossthestars · 9 months ago

Text

Doughnut Holes

Pairing- Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

A/N: I literally hate this, this is a hodgepodge of randomness, I'm so sorry. I also really want a doughnut hole now. This is @arieslost doing, we couldn't stop talking about Lando and I loved every second.

WC- 6k-ish

F1 masterlist

One might compare the inner workings of a Formula 1 team to a carefully crafted house. You had the foundation, walls, floor, roof, all of the main components that made a structurally secure house. Then you had the fluff- all the things that weren’t technically needed but the things ultimately made a house, a home. Without the fluff, the house was nothing but a cold, unwelcoming shell.

You would be considered a part of the fluff, you were among those who brought the warmth, the love, and all of the things that the others didn’t. While McLaren didn’t necessarily need you to run successfully, it seemed that a certain driver did.

Lando considered McLaren to be his second home, after all, he does spend the majority of the year with them. The people, the constant movement, nothing was ever still and for the most part he enjoyed it. His whole career was based around speed, but sometimes he couldn’t help but wish for it all to slow down.

Like everyone, Lando had his good days, and then his not-so-good days. The latter becoming more and more constant. It would start off with something small- waking up five minutes before his alarm went off, putting on a pair of socks only to find one had a hole in it, or arrive at a meeting- only to find out that all the doughnut holes were gone. Then it would escalate, it could be anything, from learning that something was wrong with the car to having media duties after a terrible qualifying. Lately, anything that could go wrong was going wrong.

The first time Lando had met you, well more like the first time Lando saw you, was no different. Lando had woken up late, couldn’t find a pair of matching socks, and had a half-dead phone because his charger had broke the night before. He didn’t care for meetings when he was in a good mood, and he certainly cared for them less when he was in a bad mood. By some miracle, he arrived on time for the meeting but not nearly early enough for a doughnut hole. Lando closed his eyes for a moment, he could hear as more and more people entered the conference room and hoped that this day could only get better.

“Mate, you look like crap.” Lando’s eyes snap open and turn to the Aussie driver who looks at him with a frown.

“It really hasn’t been my morning, more like it hasn’t been my week. Nothing is going right and frankly, I’m sick of it.”

Oscar gives him a sad smile, “I’m sure things will turn around.”

“I hope so.”

The meeting had begun like every other meeting, a promise for a good season, what was being worked on, the same old same old. However, they weren’t even at the twenty-minute mark when another person entered the conference room. Lando, like everyone else in the room, turned their heads to the newcomer.

“Sorry,” the newcomer squeaked out, clearly embarrassed by all the attention focused on her. “I’m just here to drop off the flash drive you forgot Zak.”

“Oh, thank you Y/N, what would we do without you?”

“Crash and burn, sir. Crash and burn,” the girl- now known as Y/N replied with a smile. And although you weren't smiling at Lando, he really wished you were.

You had left as quickly as she had came, the only thing left in Lando’s mind after the meeting was your smile and the fact that his day had gotten miraculously better.

Bad days didn’t typically phase you, it generally meant that things would only get better.

But, walking in late to a meeting you weren’t even a part of was not the pick me up you needed. The day had already started out rough- your car wouldn’t start, your sock had a hole in it, and worst of all- catering was out of doughnut holes by the time you got there.

It was a quick 1, 2, 3 drop and go but there were so many important people in that room, including the two McLaren drivers. Even though you didn’t do anything remotely embarrassing, you were up that entire night overthinking it, but in reality, it wasn’t like anyone was going to remember the girl who simply dropped off a flash drive.

A week had passed since the meeting, and things were looking up for little Lando Norris. He had matching socks, a working phone charger, and most importantly he was holding the last powdered doughnut hole. However, he had not seen the girl from the meeting anywhere. It wasn’t surprising with how many people were coming and going, each had their own responsibilities. That didn’t mean Lando wasn’t disappointed, there was something about that girl.

A quiet ‘son of a bitch’ caused Lando to snap out of his thinking, as he turned to face who was muttering such profanities so early in the morning he was met with the slight of you standing at the catering table.

“Everything ok?” Lando would be a fool if he was going to let his opportunity to talk to you slip through his fingers.

“Huh?” you responded almost unsure if the Lando Norris was talking to you.

“You just swore? So I’m assuming something happened?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really, its just that- never mind it's stupid.”

“Not stupid enough for you to be swearing at 8 in the morning.”

You wave your hand dismissively, "it's just that I woke up on time and got here early all for a doughnut hole and there's none left.”

Lando casts his eyes down to the napkin in his hand that contains the last doughnut hole and holds it out to you, “here you can have mine.”

You look down at his extended hand and bring both of yours up in protest, “No it's ok. I think I’ll survive without it.”

“No take it, I shouldn’t really even be eating it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Absolutely positive,” Lando says as he holds his hand out further.

“Thank you,” you take the precious breakfast treat with little hesitance and pop it into your mouth.

“I’m Lando by the way,” Lando holds out his now empty hand.

“I know, I’d be surprised if anyone working here didn’t know who you were.” You tease, grabbing his hand with yours and shake it.

“Oh, I supposed you're right.” Lando rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, ‘way to make a complete fool of yourself, obviously, she knows who you are’ he thinks.

You giggle at his response and offer him a smile, “I’m Y/N,” but before you can say anything else you are interrupted by the shrill ringing of your phone, “and I am needed elsewhere, have a nice day Lando. It was lovely meeting you.”

Lando watches as you answer the phone and scurry off elsewhere, but he is definitely going to have a good rest of his day now, not even the lack of a doughnut hole could bring his day down.

Before what you and your coworkers now call the doughnut hole occurrence™, you've never interacted with Lando, there were a few occasions where you happened to be at the same meeting as him, but never enough for him to notice you or have him introduce himself. Now, however, you seemed to be seeing him a lot more, well more than the other McLaren driver. Maybe, it was because both of your schedules lined up or it was like that phenomenon where you see one certain car, then all of the sudden you’re seeing that car everywhere. But what changed in the matter of weeks that now he was everywhere?

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find the British driver attractive. But you were two separate worlds away, you- an assistant who was a constant people pleaser, and he was, for a lack of better words, himself. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, hell you had one conversation with the guy over a breakfast treat. You didn’t even really consider the two of you colleagues, you both ran in different circles of the racing world. That fact didn’t stop you from giving him a smile every time you saw him and to your, and your coworker's surprise, he would give the small gesture a return.

You truly hated being a people pleaser, especially now more so than ever as you stood outside the door of Lando’s driver room. “Stipud Debbie, stupid saying yes. ‘Oh Y/N they need a temporary assistant for Mr. Norris. I told them you’d be perfect for it', ” you mimic Debbie, your supervisor. “Why couldn’t I have said no?”

Many of your co-workers liked to joke that you were a jack of all trades. That you could be pushed into the deep end without knowing how to swim and learn that second. You were a quick thinker, that's how its always been. But even the most flexible of people had their limits, and you were currently staring yours in the face.

Lando didn’t know what to expect as he opened the door of his room to the hallway, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting you of all people to be standing there muttering to yourself.

“Can I help you?” Lando asked, puzzled as to why you were here.

“Sorry, I don’t know if you remember me, I’m Y-”

“Y/N, “Lando interrupts, “I remember you. You’re the girl I gave my doughnut hole to.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s me,” you chuckle out, “it looks like I’m your new assistant for the foreseeable future.”

“I don’t really see the need for an assistant,” Lando says. His words cause your face to fall, and he quickly tries to backtrack, “It’s nothing personal but during the season I am either- traveling, racing, doing media duties, or sleeping. So I really don’t know who said I needed one.”

“I don’t know either, Debbie, my supervisor recommended me and now here I am,” you gesture out, “and I really don’t want to tell my boss that you said that.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find something for you to do. I mean I do, do things.”

“Ok,” you draw out with a nervous breath, “I mean I am a bit of a people pleasure. As long as you don’t ask me to do anything gross, illegal, or really immoral I think we’ll be fine.”

“See those are all the things I need an assistant for,” Lando jokes. He notices how your shoulders lose some of their tension. “But if you are my assistant does this make me your boss?”

You seem to ponder his question, “Maybe, but probably not.”

“Fair enough.”

The first few weeks of working for, or more with Lando have proved to be smooth sailing. You weren’t being pulled in eighteen million directions, nor were you running around like a headless chicken. Lando was right when he said he didn’t really need an assistant. You probably answered a few emails, some phone calls, ran out and have gotten him a few random things but that was about it.

There were also a few things you have learned about Lando during your time together. He never demanded, he always asked politely- something that your previous employers and co-workers never did. He also always insisted on eating meals together, anytime he ate he always made sure you were eating too. Lando also talked a lot, not that it was a bad thing, at first it was a bunch of small talk- he asked about your family, if you hand any pets, what your friends were like, what kind of hobbies you enjoyed, things like that. Then he would ask your opinions on things, what he should wear, what sandwich he should get and once joked with you, “you’re my assistant, you should be telling me what to do anyways.” It almost felt like a friendship instead of an employee-employer relationship.

Today was no different, Lando was going on about some TikTok he saw the previous night, a TikTok that he had already sent you. “And the dude wiped out and ate shit. I’m telling you, that while I felt bad, I almost peed my pants from laughing so hard.”

“The way he landed, there is no way he didn’t break a bone or several.” You responded not looking up from your computer.

It was hard working with a funny, talented, kind, handsome man. A man whom you were already attracted to without knowing him and getting to know him, the really Lando Norris, was only making it worse.

“Let's do something, I’m dying of boredom,” Lando drones out, flinging himself down on the couch next to you.

“Lando, I am trying to reply to some of your business emails, y’know my job.” you continue to type away, trying to emphasize your point. However, you are rudely interrupted when your laptop is ripped out of your grasp.

“The emails will still be there later, let's go do something!” Lando exclaims now dangling your computer away from you.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know, I was hoping you’d have an idea.”

“Yeah, I got one.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it's called giving me back my computer so I can do my job,” you deadpan as you lunge for your computer. Lando's reflexes however are much quicker than your movements, so you are left pressing into him, computerless.

You quickly sit up and turn away from him, trying to hide your embarrassment. By doing so you miss the small frown that Lando gives at your quick retraction.

Lando however quickly recomposes, “I know,” he stands, “let's go bowling!”

“Bowling?”

“Yeah, y’know, the game where you basically throw a heavy ball down a lane and try to knock down the pins.”

“I know what bowling is you doof.”

“Then why’d you say it like that?”

“Because out of all the options in the world, you pick that.”

“For your information, I like to bowl.”

“Yeah, you also like to golf. You really like your old man sports huh?” You tease.

“Hey! That’s not very nice missy,” Lando waves his finger at you mockingly.

“Fine, I apologize Mr. Norris. I would love to go bowling.”

“Yippie!”

“Lando?”

“Yeah?”

“Never say that again.”

“Yeah, right, sorry.”

Lando was excited, he actually didn’t know why he picked bowling. Truthfully, he just wanted to get out and do something, preferably with you. These past few weeks with you as his assistant have been amazing. Not because he had someone running around doing his bidding, but because he had someone to talk to. At first, it felt weird talking to you, he kept asking you random questions. He didn’t want you to feel pressured into answering him just because in some run-around way he was your boss. He wanted you to feel comfortable around him, and he could tell that the more he joked around with you, the more at ease you felt.

The two of you walked down the hallway towards the exit, talking seemingly about nothing. Well, you were doing most of the talking, not that he minded, he could listen to you ramble for hours. Whenever you were around, everything else became fuzzy. He noticed how your eyes got a certain twinkle to them as you talked about your favorite things. He knew how you loved Oreo cheesecake, and that your favorite doughnut holes were the red velvet ones, but since catering didn’t offer those you had to choose your other favorite, powdered sugar, and that you also had a distaste for fish, claiming it tasted like how still water smelled.

He tried to show you that you were more than an assistant to him. He always made sure to eat with you, he never demanded anything, he asked your opinion on important things. Lando knew, however, that those things were the bare minimum, hence why he asked you to go bowling.

“Where ya going?” The familiar accent of Lando’s teammate stopped them in their tracks.

“Hey Oscar,” you turned to great the Australian, “Lando wanted to go bowling, so I guess we're going bowling.”

“I haven’t been bowling in forever. Last time I went I had to play with the gutters up.”

You gasped, clasping your hands in front of you, “why don’t you come with us?”

Lando froze at your invitation, he was hoping that it would just be the two of you. He could see Oscar's gears turning in consideration. He looked at you then behind you at Lando, who was shaking his head and moving his hand in front of his neck, trying to tell his teammate to say no.

A grin split across Oscar's face, “y’know what, I would love to go bowling with you and Lando.”

At Oscar’s response, you swiftly turned back around to Lando, who swiftly changed his movement. Rubbing the back of his neck he gave you a sheepish smile, “great, the more the merrier I guess.”

The drive to the bowling alley was painfully quiet, normally the silence would be filled by Lando’s rambling but the Brit had no quirky comments. This led you down a spiral, did you do something to upset him? Was he mad at you for inviting Oscar? You thought the two of them were close and that Lando would’ve invited Oscar anyways after running into him.

The three of you entered the alley still in silence and frankly, you were fed up with it, “is this a bad time to say that I am absolutely terrible at bowling?”

“No,” Lando speaks up, “it just means that I am going play the easiest round of my life.”

The clerk hands you your shoes and assigns your group a lane. “I feel like a clown with these shoes,” Oscar admits.

“You look like one too,” Lando deadpans.

“Jeez, no need to be rude.”

You look at Lando with a raised brow. You can't tell if he is joking or not.

“Anyways,” you but in, shifting their attention to you, “How are we going to decide who goes first?”

“It’s only fair that the master goes first to show the peasants how it's done,” Lando declares.

You and Oscar share a look of ‘can you believe this guy?’ “Go for it then all mighty master.”

You watch as Lando goes for his turn, and much to Oscars and yours amusement the ball goes straight to the gutter. The little screen over the lane plays a silly animation indicating that Lando, had in fact, not hit a single pin.

You are unable to control your laughter, tears pool in your eyes. You have to hunch over in your seat in order to keep your laughter at bay.

“It’s not funny,” Lando pouts.

“You’re- you’re right,” you wipe at your eyes and take a deep breath, “it’s not funny. It’s fucking hilarious.” You managed to get out in between a fit of giggles.

“You're lucky your laugh is cute,” Lando waves his finger in warning.

Your stomach flips at his admission. Your laugh, cute? Your gaze meets Landos and he is quick to turn around and go for his second turn.

“Did I hear that right?” you whisper to Oscar.

“Yup,” is all he offers in response.

You hear a collision of the ball and pins followed by a loud “SPARE!” from the overhead TV, indicating that Lando has in fact struck a spare.

“See I just needed a warm-up,” Lando says wiggling his fingers at you and Oscar. “Who’s next?”

“Ladies first,” Oscar gestures for you to stand.

Rolling your eyes you stand, “wow, so chivalry isn’t dead.”

Walking over to the lane you can’t help but look back at Lando, who gives you a double thumbs up. Taking a deep breath you throw the ball down the lane, and to your surprise, you manage to hit, not one, not two but four pins.

“Not too bad,” you hear Lando from behind you.

“All those years of Wii bowling must’ve paid off.”

“Just don’t throw it backward.”

“I make no promises.”

Your next toss is much better, out of the six pins left you managed to knock down five. You turn around to gloat but the two McLaren drivers are in discussion, Lando looking pissed off and Oscar looking unapologetic.

“Is everything ok over here?” You stand with your arms crossed staring down the two of them. You came out to have fun, not to babysit two pissy twenty-something-year-olds.

“Everything is fine,” Lando snips out.

“If you say so, Oscar you're up.”

The Aussie groans, “you both did good, this is going to be embarrassing.” He points to you, “I thought you said you were bad at bowling.”

“I’ve channeled the Wii bowling Gods and they have blessed me, maybe you can do the same,” you tease as you sit next to Lando.

You turn your attention to Lando and quietly ask, “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“Well you were quiet on the drive here, you’ve been a little bit snippy towards Oscar and I. And just now- you were talking to Oscar and you looked pissed off.”

“I’m fine.” Lando shrugs off your worrying.

“He’s just pissy I interrupted your alone time,” Oscar interjects.

“You went already?” Lando asked, surprised by the quickness.

“Yeah, it goes by fast when you roll two gutters in a row.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

“Wow, you really are bad,” you admit, “but what do you mean by ‘our alone time.”

“Nothing,” he shrugs again.

Lando is quick to get up, seemingly uncomfortable with whatever Oscar meant by ‘alone time’. Now you really need to know.

“Oscar,” you poke him in the shoulder, “what did you mean by that?”

“Like I said, nothing,”

“You might be able to act all innocent and good in front of the cameras, but you Oscar Piastri are the biggest shit-stirrer of them all.”

Oscar just shrugs at that, leaving you to wonder what he meant. Did Lando truly just want to spend time with you and only you? Was this just because Lando saw you as a friend and wanted to hang out. Or was this as an ‘I want to get to know you better because I like you and could potentially have feelings for you?’ hang out? The first one, you rationalized, it's definitely the first one.

The rest of the game went in a blur, too focused on what Oscar said and what your overthinking brain was processing.

Lando has never felt more uncomfortable and furious at the same time, and all because of Oscar’s comment. He really shouldn’t have let it get to him, it was just a friendly jab, Oscar knew how Lando felt about you. He also couldn’t get the look on your face at Oscar's comment out of your head. You probably thought he was a creep or some weirdo.

The ride back, albeit not as uncomfortable as the ride there, was still filled with this silence that Lando did not care for.

“Mate, how did you manage to roll a gutter almost every single time?”

“I don’t know, it's almost sad,” Oscar admits.

“Oscar, it is sad,” you but in, “there has to be a statistic out there or something saying it's harder to do that than actually knocking down pins.”

“You’re one to talk,” Oscar exclaims, “you still lost.”

“Yes, Master bowler Mr. Norris reigns supreme. But at least I managed to score points. I even got a strike! That’s more than you can say!”

“I am never hanging out with you two again. You are the worst.” Oscar huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and stares out the car window like a pouting child.

‘Good’ Lando thinks to himself. He would’ve said it out loud but after you had asked him what was wrong at the bowling alley he tried to be in a better mood. Granted, having Oscar come along wasn’t what he had in mind when he asked you to hang out with him, but he still had an alright time. Plus, he did get to hang out with you, which was better than sitting around doing nothing while you answered emails.

“I think I’m going to call it a night,” you told Lando once back in his driver's room.

Lando whipped his head around to see you packing up your laptop and other miscellaneous belongings scattered around the room. “What? But it's still early.”

“Yes, and I still have emails to answer remember?”

Lando groaned at the remembrance, “but I’m still-”

Lando stopped at the sight of your raised palm, “If you say you are still bored I am going to smack you, and besides I think you need to call it an early night because you were extremely crabby with me and Oscar earlier.”

“Crabby? I’m not a toddler who forgot his nap.”

“Are you sure? Because it was hard to see the difference earlier.”

“I just wanted to hang out with you.”

“And you did hang out with me, did you not?

“Yeah, but Oscar was there too. I just wanted the two of us to hang out.”

“Lando you see me every day, we ‘hang out’ all the time.”

“No, you’re working most of the time,” he corrects you.

“We get nearly every meal together, no? You send me TikToks, funny tweets, reels. You meet me after all your media duties, qualifyings, and after the races. We see plenty of each other.”

“Do you not like spending time with me?” Lando asks dejectedly.

“Did I say I didn’t like spending time with you?”

“No, but you also didn’t say you liked spending time with me.” Lando points out.

You roll your eyes and Lando watches as you walk closer to him. Lando feels the heat of your palms through his shirt where they lay on his shoulders. His brain nearly short circuits, while this isn’t the first time the two of you have touched one another, this one feels different.

“Lando I like spending time with you,” you shake his shoulders. “Maybe a little more than I should.” It’s quiet and Lando knows that he probably wasn’t meant to hear that. However, he feels relieved at the statement, knowing now that the feeling is mutual.

You smile again, “as I said earlier- I still have emails to answer and you should get some rest, you crabby toddler.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he waves you off, “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow yeah?”

“Of course, Goodnight Lando.”

Lando can’t help the grin that breaks out on his face, and it stays that way till he falls asleep.

It's the next morning and you are tying your shoes on when there is a knock at your door.

“I’ll be right there, just give me a second,” you call out.

You make it to the door and when you open it you are greeted with Lando’s smile. However, your view is obstructed when Lando all but shoves a brown paper bag in your face.

“What is this?” you ask taking the bag, “it's not a dead animal is it?”

“Do you think I'm so sort of psychopath?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

“Just open the bag.”

Hesitantly, you unroll the top of the bag and peer inside. Thankfully, it's not a dead animal, instead in the bag lies half a dozen red spheres.

“You did not!” You exclaim, and you can’t help but break out into a grin. “Where did you get them?”

“I’ve never seen anyone get so excited over doughnut holes,” Lando laughs.

“They aren’t just any doughnut holes! You got me red velvet doughnut holes, my favorite.” You pull Lando into a hug. In which he wastes no time returning your embrace, savoring the way you fit perfectly in his arms.

“See I remember things, especially if they are about you.”

You pull away, mostly from the shock of what you just heard. You can feel your cheeks heat up, and quickly you clear your throat, “Thank you, Lando, I really appreciate it. Do you want one?”

“How can I refuse a pretty girl like you.”

Your jaw drops, and Lando looks nonetheless phased as he pops the ball of dough in his mouth.

“So on the agenda today is-” you begin, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach, pulling your phone out to see what is actually on the agenda for the day.

“Nope,” Lando snatches your phone from your hands, “I’m kidnapping you for the day.”

You stare at him dumbfounded, “what?”

“You and me are officially off the clock for the entire day, no meetings, no phone calls, and no emails.”

“I mean that's kind of you, but why?”

“Why not,” he shrugs, “I thought you liked to hang out with me,” Lando wiggles his eyebrows.

Your palm meets your forehead, “I’m definitely getting a headache by the end of today,” you mutter.

“I hope that was a comment about how excited you are to hang out with your favorite McLaren driver.”

“Who said you were my favorite?”

“Ouch, I buy you doughnut holes and this is how you repay me?”

“How ever will the little Lando Norris survive?”

“Come on you loser, I have kidnapping duties to attend to.”

Who would’ve thought that skipping work with the person you work for could be so fun? Lando had all but dragged you from tourist attraction to tourist attraction, shop to shop. It almost feels like a date, he opens the door for you, offers to pay for your trinkets, all the things a boyfriend would do. You are quick to remind yourself that this is just a friendly outing, just two friends hanging out.

The topic of dinner was being thrown around, after eating junk all day the two of you needed some substance, “I was thinking sushi,” you tease.

“I know you're joking because you also hate fish,” he points out, “I was thinking more Italian, I know a place.” Lando grabs your hand and drags you in what you assume is the direction of the restaurant.

“Did you have fun today?” Lando asks as the two of you are seated in what feels like a set right out of a romance movie.

“I did, thank you.”

“I’m glad, I felt bad for my behavior yesterday. I felt like an ass.”

“Is this why kidnapped me?”

“No,” he quickly shakes his hands, “I did this because…” Lando trails off.

“You did this because?” You urge him to go on.

Instead of giving you an answer he scratches his chin and looks shyly at you. Your mind automatically goes to the worst-case scenario.

“You’re firing me, aren’t you,” you rip the band-aid off, no point in beating around the bush, “I should’ve known it. First, you get me my favorite treat, then you take me all around the city. Oh my God, I should’ve known.” You slump down in your chair and cover your face with your hands.

During your spiral you failed to notice how Lando’s eyes nearly bludge out of his head, he too is now panicking.

You feel Lando’s warm hands as he reaches across the table to grab your wrists, “Y/N, god no I’m not firing you,” you still refuse to look at him afraid that if you do you’ll burst out in tears. “Come on baby, show me those pretty eyes.”

That grabs your attention. Your head quickly shoots up, “what did you just say?”

“Um, that I’m obviously not firing you?”

“No, no, after that, you called me baby.”

“Yeah, it um slipped out.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage out.

Lando lets off a soft curse, “I was going to tell you after dinner, but the reason I was pissed off yesterday was because I wanted to take you out bowling, kind of as a date?”

“As a date?” You ask in disbelief.

“Yeah, but then you invited Oscar, and I tried to get him to say no but that little shit doesn’t know how to take a hint. Or more like he does and just wanted to see me suffer. He didn’t make it any better with those little comments,” Lando rambles on, “what I mean to say is that I kind of have liked you since you interrupted that meeting a couple months ago.”

You have never been at a loss for words like you are at this moment. “You,” you point to Lando, “like me,” then point to yourself.

Lando nods, “Why though? I mean why me?” you ask.

“Well at first I thought you were cute, you look so frazzled but yet you held your confidence. Then you smiled, and I wanted to be the one you smiled at so badly. I thought I would never have the chance to talk to you but then there you were, swearing at the lack of doughnut holes, and I couldn’t believe the universe had given me a second chance. Then you got a phone call and scurried away before I could ask for your number or anything like that. I was so mad at myself for the following weeks. I couldn't get your laugh, your smile, your snarkiness out of my head. Then you were outside my door saying you were my new assistant, and I almost turned you away.”

If you were lookin in a mirror the only way to describe how you looked right now would be similar to a deer in headlights

Lando continues, “then, these past few weeks, I’ve gotten to know you more and more and I couldn’t help falling more and more. So yesterday I was planning on confessing after bowling but then Oscar joined us and I was pissed off and I took out on the both of you.”

“Oh. This is a walking HR disaster,” you jokingly mutter.

“If you don’t feel the same I understand. And I won’t be upset if you don’t want to work with me anymore.” Lando quickly adds in.

“But I do feel the same. I’m just confused,” you admit.

“What are you confused about?”

“You’re a famous Formula 1 driver, you are so big in this world that McLaren probably wouldn’t be able to function if you left. I’m nobody in this world, if I left everyone would go on like it's a normal day.”

“You’re not nobody to me. I need you to function.”

You smile at his admission, and you close the distance between your hands on the table, “I would consider this an amazing first date.”

“Really?” Lando asks hopefully, “I kinda just complied a bunch of stuff together hoping you would like it.”

“I loved it,” you admit before a look of horror flashes over your face, “I didn’t say anything after your confession, did I?”

“You don’t have to,” Lando interrupts.

“But I want to, that morning when you gave me the last doughnut hole I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was just a small gesture that made my day. I thought I knew who Lando Norris was before then, an attractive Formula 1 driver who just so happened to drive for McLaren-”

“You think I’m attractive?” Lando giggles.

“Yes I do,” you sigh out, cheeks burning at the thought of saying the rest of your feelings out loud. “But you quickly became Lando, the person who asked about the little things, the person who got to know me. All the little quirks that make me, me. I was trying so hard to stay professional, not let your little touches, the way you would talk, or all the times you insisted on getting lunch with me, all those things get to me. I was surprised when you offered me your last doughnut hole but I am so thankful that you did.”

“I guess we should thank catering for never ordering enough doughnut holes for this?”

“We should, I guess that doughnut holes can be our thing.”

“Of course, they can be our thing.” Lando pauses, “Does this mean we’re dating now?”

“Take me on another date, an official one this time, and you got yourself a deal.”

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