#f1 x oc

[neferaskingdom]

♡ What's Me Without You? | MV1

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: She’s his forbidden fruit—the one thing Max can never have but can’t stay away from. She’s his calm in the chaos, his greatest temptation, and the silent ache he’ll carry for the rest of his life.

A/N: This story was requested by @pinkinternetstarlight

MAX VERSTAPPEN MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Max Verstappen wasn’t sure when the ache in his chest had become a constant companion, a dull, hollow reminder of all he wanted but could never have. Maybe it had always been there, buried beneath the layers of fame, pressure, and expectation. Or maybe it had grown over time, with every laugh that escaped Y/n’s lips, with every soft touch of her hand on his arm, with every time she smiled at him like he was her whole world.

He didn’t deserve her. He never had.

Yet, she was always there, unwavering in her support, her loyalty, her love—though she would never admit it. Y/n wasn’t just his best friend. She was his home, the only person who saw every crack in his armor and stayed anyway.

Max leaned back against the couch, his head resting on her lap as her fingers combed gently through his hair. Her touch was soothing, her presence grounding him in a way no one else could. The silence between them wasn’t awkward; it was familiar, comforting. It was the kind of quiet that reminded him he wasn’t alone.

But even now, even with her hand softly stroking his head and her scent surrounding him, guilt gnawed at the edges of his mind.

He’d had a terrible race—another mechanical failure, another DNF that left him simmering with frustration. When he’d finally returned to his hotel room, all he wanted was her. Not Kelly, who was waiting for him back in Monaco with Penelope, but Y/n. It wasn’t right, and he knew it, but Y/n was the only one who could put him back together when he felt like he was falling apart.

“I came as soon as I could,” she whispered, her voice soft and laced with worry.

She always did.

It didn’t matter where in the world he was. It didn’t matter what she had going on. If he needed her, she came. She’d dropped everything to be here tonight, flying across time zones and leaving behind her own life to hold him in her arms.

Max closed his eyes, breathing her in. He could feel the tension in her body as she sat rigid beneath him, her free hand resting lightly on his shoulder. She was worried about him—she always worried about him.

“You didn’t have to come,” he murmured, though they both knew it was a lie. He didn’t know how to survive these nights without her anymore.

“Don’t be stupid,” she replied, her voice soft but firm. “Of course I had to come. You’re—” She paused, swallowing hard. “You’re my best friend.”

Max’s eyes fluttered open as her hand stilled in his hair. He shifted slightly, pressing his face into her neck, seeking the comfort he couldn’t find anywhere else.

Her skin was warm against his cheek, her pulse steady and reassuring. He felt safe here, in her arms, in her presence. But the safety came with a tinge of guilt, a bitter reminder that this wasn’t where he should be.

But Kelly didn’t understand.

Max could see it in the way her lips pressed together whenever Y/n’s name came up, the way her smile tightened whenever Y/n walked into the room. She never said anything outright, but the tension was there, simmering beneath the surface.

It didn’t matter.

Max knew where his loyalty lay. Y/n had been there long before Kelly, long before anyone. She was the reason he kept going some days, the only person who truly understood the toll this life took on him. Kelly might not like it, but even she couldn’t deny it—Max needed Y/n in a way he would never need anyone else.

He tried to make it work with Kelly, for Penelope’s sake if nothing else. He liked Kelly—she was kind and understanding in her own way, and he adored Penelope. But it wasn’t the same. It never could be.

Kelly had confronted him about it once, in the early days of their relationship.

“She loves you,” she had said, her voice calm but cutting.

Max had frozen, unsure how to respond. He didn’t deny it. How could he? Y/n’s love was written in every small thing she did for him, in every sacrifice she made, in every time she dropped everything to be by his side.

“And you love her,” Kelly had continued, her eyes hard but resigned.

He didn’t deny that, either.

But Kelly had never brought it up again. She knew better.

Because as much as she hated it, as much as it hurt her, she knew that if something happened Max would always choose Y/n. 

Max shifted on the couch, his voice breaking the silence. “Do you ever think about what it would be like? If things were different?”

Y/n’s hand stilled in his hair, her fingers hovering for a moment before resuming their gentle strokes.

“Different how?” she asked softly, her voice careful, cautious.

Max hesitated, his heart pounding. He didn’t know why he had said it, why he was opening this door. But the words were out now, and there was no taking them back.

“Us,” he said quietly. “If we were...different.”

Y/n was silent for a long time, and Max felt his chest tighten, the weight of her unspoken words pressing down on him.

“Don’t,” she whispered finally, her voice trembling. “Don’t say things like that, Max.”

He remembered the first time she had cried in front of him. They had been teenagers, sitting in his room after a long day.

“No one likes me,” she had said, her voice thick with tears. “I’m ugly, and I’m boring, and no one wants to be with me.”

Max had been furious—not at her, but at the world for making her feel this way. He had held her as she cried, whispering reassurances into her hair.

“You’re beautiful,” he had told her, his voice firm. “And anyone who doesn’t see that is an idiot.”

She had sniffled, pulling back to look at him with watery eyes. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not,” he had said, his hands on her shoulders. “You’re amazing, Y/n. And if some guy doesn’t see that, then he’s not worth your time.”

He meant it. He always had.

But Max couldn’t help but feel guilty. After all, it was his fault she was crying in the first place.

He knew he had chased away every boy who had shown an interest in her. He hadn’t meant to, not at first. But the thought of her with someone else, of her giving her heart to someone who wasn’t him, was unbearable.

So he had intervened, subtly at first, then more overtly as time went on. He didn’t regret it, even when she cried on his shoulder, wondering why no one stayed.

He couldn’t tell her the truth, couldn’t admit that he was the reason.

Because Max Verstappen was a selfish man. And he couldn’t let a bit of guilt stop him from protecting her.

Max’s fists clenched as he watched Y/n laugh with the guy at the bar. Her smile was radiant, and for a moment, Max forgot how to breathe.

Then the guy leaned closer, and Max saw red.

“You okay?” Y/n asked when Max stalked over, her brows knitting in concern.

“Fine,” he said tightly, his gaze flicking to the guy. “Who’s this?”

The guy opened his mouth to respond, but Max cut him off. “You should go.”

“Max!” Y/n hissed, her eyes widening.

The guy frowned but quickly walked away, muttering something under his breath.

“What the hell was that?” Y/n demanded, crossing her arms.

“He was bothering you,” Max said, his jaw clenching.

“He wasn’t bothering me,” she snapped. “He was nice. And now he thinks I’m some helpless girl with an overprotective brother.”

Max flinched at the word brother. “I was just looking out for you.”

“I don’t need you to scare off every guy I talk to!” she said, her voice rising.

Max looked away, guilt twisting in his stomach. “I’m sorry,” he muttered.

Y/n sighed, her expression softening. “Just...let me handle it next time, okay?”

“Okay,” he said quietly, though he knew there wouldn’t be a next time.

Because no one would ever be good enough for her.

Max remembered the night he realized he was in love with her.

They had been eighteen, sitting on the hood of his car under a blanket of stars. It was one of the rare nights he wasn’t on the road, and she had insisted on taking him out to the middle of nowhere to remind him what quiet felt like.

“Do you ever think about the future?” she had asked, her voice soft and wistful.

“Sometimes,” he had admitted, though the future was always a blur to him—races, championships, the never-ending grind.

“I think about it all the time,” she had said, her eyes shining as she looked at the sky. “Where we’ll be, what we’ll be doing...if we’ll still be here together.”

“Of course we will,” he had said without hesitation.

She had smiled then, the kind of smile that made his heart ache, and he realized in that moment that he wanted to see that smile every day for the rest of his life.

But he had been too afraid to say anything, too afraid to ruin what they had. And as the years passed, that fear only grew.

Max didn’t deserve her, but that didn’t stop him from wanting her.

He wanted her laugh, her touch, her presence in every corner of his life. He wanted to wake up to her sleepy smile and fall asleep with her head on his chest. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how much he loved her, how he would give anything to be the man she deserved.

But he couldn’t.

Because she deserved better.

And so he kept his feelings locked away, hidden beneath layers of unspoken words and longing glances.

There were moments when he thought about what it would be like to be with her, really be with her.

He thought about holding her hand in public, about introducing her as his girlfriend instead of his best friend. He thought about what it would be like to kiss her, to wake up beside her, to call her his.

But then the doubts crept in, the fear that he would ruin her, that his demons would drag her down with him.

She was too good for him, too pure, too kind. Those thoughts were dangerous, and Max knew better than to indulge them.

Max shifted on the couch, pulling back to look at her.

“Thank you,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion.

She frowned, tilting her head. “For what?”

“For everything,” he said, his eyes searching hers. “For always being here. For putting up with me. For...everything.”

She smiled, and it was like the sun breaking through the clouds. “You don’t have to thank me, Max. You know I’d do anything for you.”

And that was the problem.

She would do anything for him, and he would let her, even though he knew he didn’t deserve it.

Max didn’t sleep that night.

He never could when the weight of his emotions threatened to suffocate him, and tonight, it felt heavier than ever. He stayed where he was, his shoulder stiff but unwilling to move and disturb her peaceful slumber. Y/n deserved her rest—she had flown halfway across the world just for him. She always did.

The next morning, Y/n was awake before him, bustling quietly around the small hotel room. Max cracked his eyes open, watching her from where he lay. She had always been a morning person, though he didn’t know how she managed it after such long flights and sleepless nights.

“Good morning,” she said softly, noticing his gaze.

Her voice was warm, soothing, and it wrapped around him like a blanket.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice thick with sleep.

Y/n walked over, holding out a cup of coffee. Max took it gratefully, his fingers brushing against hers. The touch was brief but enough to send a spark up his arm, one he tried desperately to ignore.

“Feeling better?” she asked, sitting down beside him.

He nodded, though it was a lie. He felt worse, if anything, but he wouldn’t tell her that. He couldn’t.

“You didn’t have to stay,” he said quietly, staring into his coffee.

“I wanted to,” she replied, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Max turned to look at her, his chest tightening at the sight of her soft smile. She always looked at him like that, like he was the most important person in her world. And maybe he was.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Max had meetings and obligations, and Y/n trailed behind him, her presence quiet but comforting.

It wasn’t until they returned to his hotel room that evening that the tension in his chest began to ease.

Y/n curled up on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her as she scrolled through her phone. Max sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders touched. He could feel the warmth radiating from her, and it was enough to make his heart ache.

“I should head back tomorrow,” she said after a while, her voice hesitant.

Max’s stomach twisted at the thought. He didn’t want her to leave—not yet, not ever—but he knew he couldn’t ask her to stay.

“Do you have to?” he asked, his voice quieter than he intended.

Y/n turned to look at him, her eyes soft. “I’ve been gone from work too long already, Max. I can’t keep disappearing every time you need me.”

The words weren’t meant to hurt, but they did.

“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’ll miss you.”

Her expression softened further, and she reached out, her hand resting gently on his. “I’ll miss you too.”

Max didn’t want to let her go, but the next morning, he found himself standing in the lobby, watching as she prepared to leave.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said, her voice firm. “I mean it, Max.”

“I will,” he promised, though they both knew he hated calling her. He hated being a burden, hated pulling her away from her life.

She hugged him tightly, her arms wrapped around his neck. Max held her just as tightly, his hands resting on her back.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” she whispered.

He nodded, though he wasn’t sure he knew how to without her.

Back in Monaco, Kelly was waiting for him. She greeted him with a kiss, and Penelope ran into his arms, her laughter filling the room.

It should have been enough.

And in a way, it was. Max loved Penelope, and he cared for Kelly. But it wasn’t the same. It would never be the same.

That night, as he lay in bed beside Kelly, his mind wandered to Y/n. He wondered what she was doing, if she was thinking about him the way he was thinking about her.

Kelly shifted beside him, her arm draping over his chest. Max stiffened, guilt washing over him.

He wasn’t a cheater, but sometimes, it felt like he was. Max loved Kelly in his own way, but it wasn’t the kind of love that consumed him. It wasn’t the kind of love that made his chest ache and his heart race.

That kind of love was reserved for Y/n, and he knew it always would be.

As long as she was happy, he would endure the ache.

Because she deserved better than him.

And Max Verstappen would rather break his own heart a thousand times than let anyone break hers.

[totothewolff]

How Y/N stole my heart

[🗯+18][👩‍❤️‍👨 Toto x reader][🥵Smut][❄️Grinch style][💫Short read][🎄Christmas]

Summary: From a grumpy principal to a man in love. This holiday season, real love won. Author's note: Merry Christmas everyone! Thank you for all your lovely messages while I took time, I'm dealing with a lot right now, so I need love and I send you lots of love. Written for the "Snowflakes & Storylines" a FICXMAS Challenge at The Wolff Pack Discord Server

More Toto Wolff fics right here > Masterlist

In the garage of the Silver Arrows, where the legends get made, Lives one Toto Wolff, a man who often complains. With a frown and a scowl, he rules with precision, His focus is racing, winning his ambition.

Yet something is missing from his grand, busy life, Passion, love, maybe a wife? With a heart made of metal, and a brain full of speed, One Christmas morning, it all begins.

Without knowing it, he is in for a ride, As a newcomer driver arrives, With fire in her spirit and pace in her veins, Y/N came here to in his heart remain.

As she slides into the Mercedes car, their chemistry ignites. She charms him past his grid, disarming Toto in parts.

He rather hold meetings, with data and all of that, To distract himself from his own racing heart.

After every encounter, the tension remains thick, So one day Toto paces in his office when Y/N gets in. She's wearing her tight form-fitting tracksuit, With a mischievous grin, she offers soon, “Toto” she whispers, "Wanna go for an extra lap?” He smirks, feeling the heat, and slowly strides.

Before he could barely resist her open invitation, She closes the gap, perching right onto his lap, He grins mischievously, a sparkle in his eye, “Honey, let me love you right”.

Toto gasps in delight, among a storm of thoughts, As her hand caressed down his groin, With a mix of nervousness and pleasure, feeling all turned on, a “Y/N—” gets caught in his throat.

While his heart does a backflip, his cock gets hard. She moves her hips in circles, making him cuss. “Think of it as team-building, just you and I,” With pleasure and hunger, she rides him like a bike.

As Toto grips the armrests, the world starts to spin around, two lovers finally merging, adrenaline high. The clock ticks away while lost in moans. Till the final thrust hits home.

From a grumpy principal to a man in love. This holiday season, real love won.

“Y/N, you ignite passion in my tin old heart, You think this could be a start?” Eyes wide, she giggles, her cheeks blushing bright, “Toto Wolff admitting he’s smitten? What a sight!"

"Let’s race through our days, honey, but not just on the track. Please let's share the rest of our lives!”

Two souls that day intertwined, Toto is no longer the Grinch with a heart two sizes small.

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[hookhausenschips]

The Edge of Defiance

Chapter 6 of The Game Of Seduction

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Summary: In this chapter, Y/N grows restless in the quiet monotony of recovery at Lando's condo, feeling trapped by her circumstances and eager to regain her autonomy. Despite Lando's protective objections and concerns about her physical readiness and the condition of her apartment, Y/N firmly asserts her independence, leading to a tense confrontation that underscores their conflicting perspectives and the unspoken complexities of their relationship. Their argument is laced with unresolved tension, past trauma, and Y/N’s determination to reclaim control over her life, even as Lando’s care reveals deeper layers of concern and possibly unacknowledged feelings.

WC: 4.9k

Warnings: Mafia Dealings, Emotional Confrontation, References to Violence or Trauma, Injury/Recovery, Conflict in Relationships

Taglist

• you DO NOT have my permission to copy my work, upload as your own, translate, or repost on any other website •

It had been nearly a week since the fight with Malik, and the tension in Lando’s condo had finally begun to ease. Y/N was healing, her injuries no longer the sharp reminders they had been but now dull aches she could tolerate.  

The days had fallen into a quiet rhythm: meals shared in silence, brief moments of conversation, and the occasional sharp glance from Lando when she pushed herself too hard.  

But Y/N wasn’t built for stillness, and she could feel the walls closing in on her.  

Y/N sat cross-legged on the couch, absently picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of her hoodie. Across the room, Lando was leaning against the kitchen counter, his gaze fixed on her like he was waiting for her to drop some kind of bombshell.  

“I’m going back to my apartment,” Y/N said abruptly, breaking the silence.  

Lando’s brow furrowed, his posture stiffening. “Excuse me?”  

“You heard me,” she replied, meeting his gaze without hesitation. “I’ve been here long enough. It’s time to go back to my own place.”  

He crossed his arms, his expression darkening. “You’re not ready for that.”  

Y/N let out a sharp laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Ready? I didn’t realize I needed permission to live in my own damn apartment.”  

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Lando said, his voice dropping. “You’re still recovering, and your place is barely livable. What’s the rush?”  

“The rush,” Y/N said, standing now, her tone dripping with sarcasm, “is that I have my own place. And in case you forgot, I’m not dating you, I haven’t moved in here, and I don’t intend to. This has been... cozy, but I’ve got my own space, and I want it back.”  

--- 

She had a way of making every logical argument sound ridiculous, and it drove me insane.  

“This isn’t about you staying here,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “It’s about making sure you’re safe. You’re still hurt, Y/N. And your apartment isn’t exactly secure.”  

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her bag from the floor. “I appreciate the concern, Norris, but I’m not some damsel in distress. I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it long before you showed up.”  

Her words stung more than I cared to admit. “You think this is about me wanting to control you?”  

She shot me a pointed look. “You’re blocking the door, aren’t you?”  

I sighed, stepping aside reluctantly. “Fine. Do whatever you want. But don’t come crying to me when you realize this is a mistake.”  

--- 

The ride to Y/N’s apartment was tense, neither of them saying much. Lando drove, his jaw tight as he navigated the city streets. Y/N stared out the window, her fingers tapping against her thigh in an erratic rhythm.  

When they arrived, the building looked the same as always, but Y/N’s stomach twisted as she stepped out of the car.  

Lando followed her to the door, his presence a quiet but heavy reminder of their earlier argument.  

“You don’t have to do this,” he said as she unlocked the door.  

“I know,” she replied without looking back. “But I want to.”  

She pushed the door open and stepped inside.  

--- 

The air inside was heavy, stale, and full of memories I didn’t want to deal with yet.  

The living room was a mess—glass shards still glittered on the floor, and the splintered remains of the doorframe were a stark reminder of what had happened.  

I took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. This was my place. My chaos. I could fix it.  

Behind me, Lando lingered in the doorway, his arms crossed as he surveyed the wreckage. “It’s worse than I thought.”  

I glanced back at him, raising a brow. “You should’ve seen it before the first clean-up. It had a certain ‘post-apocalyptic charm.’”  

He didn’t laugh, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Are you sure about this?”  

“Yes,” I said, walking further inside. “This is my space, Lando. I’m not letting Malik—or anyone else—take it away from me.”  

--- 

Lando stepped inside cautiously, watching as Y/N began to pick up the broken pieces of her apartment.  

She moved with purpose, her every action deliberate as she cleared the debris and set things right. But there was a tension in her shoulders, a weight she was trying to hide.  

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Lando said after a while, his voice quieter now.  

Y/N looked at him, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “I know. But I need to. This isn’t your fight, Lando. It never was.”  

“It became my fight the moment you walked into my world,” he replied, his tone firm.  

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue.  

--- 

It took hours to clean up the mess, but I felt better with every piece of glass I swept away and every overturned chair I set upright.  

By the time I collapsed onto the couch, the apartment looked almost normal. It wasn’t perfect, but it was mine again.  

Lando sat down on the armrest, his expression unreadable as he glanced around the room. “You’ve made progress.”  

“Damn right, I have,” I said, leaning back with a tired smile. “And before you ask—no, I’m not moving back into your condo. This is my space.”  

His lips twitched into the faintest smirk. “You’re nothing if not stubborn.”  

“Takes one to know one,” I shot back.  

--- 

Lando stood, his hands slipping into his pockets as he looked down at her. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re insane for coming back here so soon.”  

“Noted,” Y/N replied with a grin.  

“But,” he continued, his voice softening, “I’m glad you’re okay. And for the record, you don’t have to do everything on your own.”  

Y/N’s smile faltered slightly, her tone losing its usual edge. “Thanks for helping me, Lando. I mean it.”  

He nodded, his smirk fading into something more genuine. “Don’t mention it.”  

As he turned to leave, Y/N watched him go, a faint warmth settling in her chest.  

She wouldn’t admit it to him, but having him there—even for a little while—made her feel less alone. 

--- 

Y/N waited until the sound of Lando’s car faded into the distance before pulling out her phone. She sat cross-legged on her couch, her fingers tapping against the edge of her phone case as she stared at Max’s name on the screen.  

This wasn’t a call she wanted to make, but she didn’t have a choice.  

With a resigned sigh, she tapped the screen and brought the phone to her ear.  

It didn’t take long for Max to pick up.  

“You’ve been quiet,” he said, skipping the pleasantries. “Too quiet.”  

“Yeah, well,” Y/N replied, leaning back against the couch. “I’ve been busy handling my life.”  

“Handling it or running from it?” Max asked, his tone sharp.  

She rolled her eyes. “Do you have a point, or is this just a check-in to see if I’m still breathing?”  

“I have your next mission,” Max said, cutting straight to the point.  

Y/N’s posture stiffened, her fingers tightening around the phone. “Go on.”  

--- 

“Mercedes and McLaren have been getting too cozy,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “We’ve been hearing whispers of a potential deal between them, something that could shift the balance in their favor. We need to know what it is.”  

“And let me guess,” Y/N said, her voice laced with sarcasm. “You want me to find out.”  

“Correct,” I replied. “There’s a warehouse near the docks, one of McLaren’s quieter operations. Our intel says there’s a file there—something that details the negotiations between McLaren and Mercedes. I need you to get it.”  

She let out a low whistle. “Breaking into a McLaren warehouse? You really don’t like me, do you?”  

“This isn’t personal,” I said, though we both knew that wasn’t entirely true. “It’s important. If they finalize this deal, it could set us back significantly.”  

--- 

I pinched the bridge of my nose, letting out a slow breath. “And what’s the plan if I get caught? You going to swoop in and save me?”  

“No,” Max said bluntly. “That’s why you’re not getting caught.”  

“Great,” I muttered. “No pressure or anything.”  

“You’re the best we’ve got, Y/N,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “That’s why you’re in this position. I wouldn’t send you if I didn’t think you could handle it.”  

I didn’t respond right away, my mind already running through the logistics. Breaking into a McLaren warehouse wasn’t just risky—it was reckless. But it was also the job, and I didn’t back down from challenges.  

“Fine,” I said finally. “Send me the details.”  

“You’ll have them within the hour,” Max replied. “And Y/N? Don’t let me down.”  

I hung up without responding, tossing the phone onto the coffee table as I leaned back against the couch.  

What the hell have I gotten myself into now?  

--- 

True to his word, Max sent the details of the mission within the hour. Y/N studied the information carefully, her mind piecing together a plan as she packed a small bag with everything she’d need.  

Her fingers hovered over the knife she’d taken from Lando’s office, the blade still sharp and pristine.  

He’d lose his mind if he knew what I was doing.  

The thought made her smirk, but it quickly faded as the weight of the mission settled over her. This wasn’t just about proving herself to Max or the Redbull family—it was about survival.  

If she failed, it wasn’t just her cover that would be blown.  

It was everything.  

--- 

The warehouse was going to be heavily guarded—that much was obvious. McLaren didn’t do anything halfway, and if this file was as important as Max made it seem, they’d have people watching it.  

I’d need to be fast, quiet, and—above all—careful.  

I double-checked my gear, slipping the knife into its sheath and securing it at my hip. The pistol went into the holster at my back, concealed beneath the loose hoodie I wore.  

The plan was risky, but I’d pulled off worse.  

I just had to hope my luck held out.  

--- 

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the city, Y/N stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the skyline. The city buzzed with life, oblivious to the chaos brewing beneath its surface.  

Her phone buzzed again, a final message from Max:  

We’re counting on you.  

She stared at the words for a moment before deleting the message.  

This wasn’t just about the Redbull family or their war with McLaren. This was about proving to herself that she could do this, that she could survive in a world where trust was a liability and weakness was a death sentence.  

She grabbed her bag, slinging it over her shoulder as she headed for the door.  

The night was just beginning, and Y/N was ready.  

--- 

The air near the docks was sharp and biting, carrying the distinct tang of salt and oil. The warehouse loomed ahead, a hulking steel giant bathed in the glow of scattered floodlights. It was the kind of place that whispered secrets into the dark—if you knew how to listen. 

Y/N crouched behind a stack of rusting shipping containers, her hood drawn low and her fingers gripping the hilt of her knife. Her breath was slow and steady, her eyes scanning the perimeter. Two guards stood by the main entrance, their postures lax, their focus minimal. A third patrolled along the side of the building, his flashlight swinging lazily. 

She smirked to herself. Amateurs. 

Sliding out from behind the container, she moved silently, her footsteps muffled by the damp ground. The side entrance was her target—an unmonitored door just outside the camera’s sweep. 

Reaching the door, she pulled a slim lock-pick from her pocket and got to work. The lock clicked open in seconds, and she slipped inside, shutting the door softly behind her. 

Inside, the air was cooler, tinged with the metallic scent of machinery. Rows of crates and pallets stretched out before her like a labyrinth, shadows dancing in the faint glow of overhead lights. 

Y/N crouched, scanning the catwalks above for movement. A guard paced slowly, his flashlight cutting arcs through the shadows. She waited, counting his steps until he turned away, then darted between the crates. 

The office was her destination, tucked into the far corner of the warehouse. Her intel said the file would be there—evidence of McLaren’s dealings with Mercedes. It was the kind of information that could shift the balance of power, and Y/N was here to claim it. 

She moved with purpose, her steps deliberate and silent. Every corner, every sound was measured and assessed, her confidence unwavering. This was her domain—the shadows, the game of cat and mouse. 

What she didn’t know was that she wasn’t alone. 

--- 

The air near the docks was cold, heavy with the tang of salt and diesel. The warehouse loomed in the distance, its steel walls glinting faintly under the glow of scattered floodlights. A symphony of muffled machinery, distant waves, and occasional footsteps filled the silence. 

Y/N crouched behind a stack of shipping containers, her figure hidden by the dark, unassuming clothes she wore—a simple black hoodie, cargo pants, and a mask that covered the lower half of her face. She’d chosen her attire carefully, ensuring that even if someone spotted her, they wouldn’t recognize her. 

Her eyes scanned the perimeter. Two guards at the main entrance, another circling the building’s side, and one stationed near the back. Predictable. Easy. 

She adjusted the strap of her bag, where her tools and a small weapon were tucked securely. This file better be worth it, Max, she thought, slipping into the shadows and toward the side entrance. 

--- 

Breaking into a place like this wasn’t new to me. 

I kept low, my movements silent as I reached the side door. The camera above it swept lazily across the area, its range limited. Timing its arc, I slipped into its blind spot and crouched by the lock. 

Pulling out my lock-picking tools, I worked quickly. The mechanism was cheap—whoever set up security here didn’t expect professionals. Within seconds, the lock clicked open, and I pushed the door ajar, slipping inside. 

The air inside was colder, the faint hum of machinery echoing through the vast space. Crates and pallets were stacked in neat rows, forming a maze that stretched out into the shadows. Overhead, metal catwalks crisscrossed the warehouse, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. 

I took a slow breath, letting the shadows settle over me like a second skin. The office was on the far side of the building, a small glass box elevated on a platform. That’s where the file would be. 

--- 

I wasn’t supposed to be here. 

Oscar had flagged the warehouse as a potential weak point in our operations, so I’d decided to check it out personally. It was quiet tonight, just a skeleton crew of guards. Exactly how I liked it—quick, efficient, and private. 

From the catwalk above, I surveyed the floor, noting the layout and the guards’ routes. It all seemed routine until I spotted movement below. 

Someone darted between the crates, their figure quick and silent, dressed in black from head to toe. 

My body tensed, and my instincts kicked in. This wasn’t a worker or a guard. 

An intruder. 

I moved along the catwalk, keeping my distance as I tracked their movements. Whoever they were, they were good—calculated, confident, and precise. 

But not invisible. 

--- 

Breaking into a place like this wasn’t new to me. 

I kept low, my movements silent as I reached the side door. The camera above it swept lazily across the area, its range limited. Timing its arc, I slipped into its blind spot and crouched by the lock. 

Pulling out my lock-picking tools, I worked quickly. The mechanism was cheap—whoever set up security here didn’t expect professionals. Within seconds, the lock clicked open, and I pushed the door ajar, slipping inside. 

The air inside was colder, the faint hum of machinery echoing through the vast space. Crates and pallets were stacked in neat rows, forming a maze that stretched out into the shadows. Overhead, metal catwalks crisscrossed the warehouse, dimly lit by flickering fluorescent lights. 

I took a slow breath, letting the shadows settle over me like a second skin. The office was on the far side of the building, a small glass box elevated on a platform. That’s where the file would be. 

--- 

The office door was locked—naturally—but locks were rarely a problem for me. I slipped the pick from my pocket and crouched by the door, working quickly. 

The mechanism clicked, and I eased the door open, stepping inside and shutting it softly behind me. 

The office was cramped, cluttered with papers, folders, and a desk piled high with files. A single computer sat in the corner, its screen locked but still glowing faintly. 

I went straight for the filing cabinets, my hands moving efficiently through the drawers. Pens, invoices, shipment records—nothing useful. 

It wasn’t until I reached the second drawer that I found it: a slim folder labeled with a cryptic code that matched Max’s intel. 

I opened it briefly, my eyes scanning the contents. Negotiation notes. Shipment details. Signatures. Bingo. 

I slipped the file into my bag, zipping it closed. 

And then I heard it. 

A voice crackled over the warehouse intercom, distorted but clear: “Patrol teams to the main office. Possible intruder detected.” 

My stomach dropped. 

--- 

The faint sound of footsteps reached my ears, growing louder with every passing second. Someone was coming—several someones, by the sound of it. 

I cursed under my breath, glancing around the office. There was no back exit, no easy way out. 

I pressed myself into the shadows near the door, my hand hovering over the knife at my hip. 

Stay calm. Think. 

The door opened, and two guards stepped inside, their flashlights cutting through the dim space. 

“Boss said to double-check the office,” one of them muttered. “Could’ve sworn he saw something.” 

I stayed perfectly still, my breath shallow as they scanned the room. 

--- 

From the catwalk, I watched as the guards entered the office. 

The intruder had slipped in just moments earlier, their movements so fluid I almost admired them. Almost. 

I signaled to the guards below, pointing them toward the office. If this was a thief or a spy, they wouldn’t make it out. 

But something about this person gnawed at me. The way they moved, the confidence in their steps—it was... familiar. 

Still, I stayed silent, waiting to see how they’d handle being cornered. 

--- 

The guards moved deeper into the office, their flashlights sweeping across the room. 

Y/N waited, her body tense as they came closer. When one of them turned his back to her, she made her move. 

She struck quickly, her knife pressed against the guard’s throat before he could react. 

“Quiet,” she hissed, her voice low and distorted by the mask. “Or you won’t get a second warning.” 

The second guard froze, his flashlight dropping as he reached for his weapon. 

“Don’t,” Y/N warned, shifting her position so the first guard shielded her. 

The second guard hesitated, his hand hovering over his holster. 

Y/N shoved the first guard into him, knocking them both off balance, and darted out of the office. 

--- 

The intruder burst out of the office, moving faster than I expected. 

The guards scrambled after them, shouting warnings that echoed through the warehouse. 

I followed from above, my eyes locked on their figure as they weaved through the maze of crates. 

Whoever they were, they were good. 

Too good. 

--- 

Y/N was almost at the exit, her heart pounding as she darted between the crates. She felt it before she heard it—someone else was following her. Not the guards, whose footsteps were heavy and clumsy. This was someone quieter, faster, and far more dangerous.  

Her pulse quickened as she glanced over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of a figure descending from the catwalks above.  

Her jaw tightened. Who the hell is that?  

The figure moved with precision, cutting off her path to the side door. Y/N pivoted, ready to change direction, but he was too quick. They collided with force, the impact sending her stumbling back.  

Before she could recover, he lunged, grabbing her wrist as her knife flashed between them. 

--- 

I twisted hard, my free hand striking out as I tried to break his grip. He was strong, stronger than I expected, and every move I made was met with an equally skilled counter.  

His hand clamped around my wrist, forcing my knife away from his body.  

“Not bad,” I muttered under my breath, the words muffled by my mask.  

His eyes narrowed, his voice sharp. “Who are you?”  

I didn’t answer. Instead, I shifted my weight, kicking out hard. My boot caught him in the knee, just enough to throw him off balance.  

He stumbled but didn’t let go, his grip tightening as he spun us around.  

--- 

The intruder wasn’t just good—they were trained. Every movement was deliberate, calculated, and relentless.  

They twisted again, their knife slashing toward my side. I dodged, the blade grazing my jacket, but I managed to shove them back into the crates.  

“Who sent you?” I demanded, my voice cold.  

They didn’t respond, their masked face giving nothing away. Instead, they came at me again, their knife flashing in the dim light.  

The fight was fast and brutal, every strike and counterstrike a test of skill. I felt the sting of a cut on my forearm, but I ignored it, focusing on disarming them.  

--- 

The struggle between them was fierce, the clash of steel and the scuffle of boots on concrete echoing through the warehouse.  

Y/N fought with everything she had, her movements fluid and unrelenting. Lando countered with equal ferocity, his instincts honed from years of experience.  

A crate toppled over as Y/N spun, using the environment to her advantage. She lunged, her knife slicing close enough to tear through the fabric of Lando’s shirt.  

He retaliated, his fist catching her shoulder and sending her stumbling back.  

Both of them were breathing hard now, blood staining their clothes from small but deliberate wounds.  

--- 

I had to end this. 

It wasn’t just some guard. I’d realized that the moment he blocked my first strike with precision that no hired muscle could manage. This was Lando. 

His movements were sharp, efficient, and damn near impossible to counter. Every step I took, every calculated strike, was met with an equally brutal response. He wasn’t trying to subdue me—he was trying to figure out who I was. 

That couldn’t happen. 

My mind raced, adrenaline pounding through me as I reassessed. Lando wasn’t a target, and fighting him wasn’t part of the plan. He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

I needed to move. To escape. 

I feinted left, drawing his attention with a quick flick of my knife. His body shifted instinctively to block, and that was all the opening I needed. Twisting hard, I wrenched myself free of his grip, my feet already moving as I slipped around him. 

For a split second, I hesitated. 

My instincts screamed at me to press the attack, to strike before he could recover. But this wasn’t about taking him down. It was about getting out—alive and unidentified. 

There wasn’t time. 

--- 

Lando cursed, his hand flying out to grab her, but she was already gone, darting between the crates with a speed that left him no time to react.  

Y/N moved like a shadow, her figure barely visible as she disappeared into the maze of the warehouse.  

The guards, alerted by the commotion, converged on her position, their flashlights cutting through the darkness.  

She didn’t slow.  

With calculated precision, she took them down one by one—an elbow to the temple here, a sweep of the leg there. Each move was efficient and brutal, leaving the guards sprawled on the ground as she made her way to the exit.  

By the time she burst through the side door and into the night, her breaths were coming fast and ragged.  

--- 

I reached the exit just in time to see the intruder vanish into the shadows.  

My side ached, and my arm was slick with blood from the cut they’d landed, but that wasn’t what bothered me most.  

Whoever they were, they weren’t just some random thief. They’d known exactly what they were doing, and they’d been after something specific.  

As I stared into the darkness, one thought echoed in my mind.  

Who the hell are you?  

--- 

The docks were silent by the time Y/N made it to the drop-off point. Tucked away between two abandoned warehouses, the location was as unassuming as it was isolated.  

She crouched near a rusted steel container, her movements deliberate as she pulled the file from her bag. The sharp pain in her arm flared as she moved, but she gritted her teeth and ignored it.  

Placing the file into the secure lockbox Max had described, she stood and glanced around once more. The faint glow of streetlights in the distance cast eerie shadows across the empty lot.  

No loose ends.  

With the mission complete, Y/N melted into the shadows, vanishing into the night.  

--- 

The McLaren estate was as grand as ever, its sprawling grounds meticulously maintained, and the air buzzing with the quiet efficiency of the staff. Y/N arrived mid-morning, her steps light but her mind heavy.  

She’d wrapped her injured arm carefully, the white bandage hidden beneath the sleeve of a fitted leather jacket. Though the cut wasn’t deep, it was obvious enough to draw attention if someone looked too closely.  

And Lando always looked too closely.  

As she entered the main hall, she spotted him at the far end, leaning against a marble counter in conversation with Oscar. He looked as composed as ever, his signature curls slightly disheveled, a cup of coffee in one hand.  

The sight of him brought back the previous night in an instant—the fight, the way he’d moved, the close call.  

But he didn’t know.  

He couldn’t.  

Y/N squared her shoulders and approached, her usual confidence firmly in place.  

--- 

I noticed her the moment she walked in.  

Y/N had a way of commanding attention without trying—her confidence, the way she moved, like she belonged wherever she chose to be.  

But today, something was different.  

She was holding herself a little too carefully, her posture stiff in a way that most people wouldn’t catch. And then there was her arm.  

The faint bulge of a bandage beneath her jacket sleeve didn’t escape my notice.  

My eyes narrowed slightly as she reached us, a faint smirk playing on her lips.  

“Morning, boys,” she said, her tone casual as she leaned against the counter beside Oscar.  

“You’re in a good mood,” Oscar said, raising a brow.  

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she replied smoothly.  

--- 

Lando’s gaze lingered on her arm, his mind racing. He didn’t ask about it immediately—he knew Y/N well enough to know she wouldn’t give him a straight answer.  

But something about the timing was off.  

The night before, a skilled intruder had broken into one of McLaren’s key warehouses. The guards’ reports had been vague, but Lando didn’t need details to know whoever it was had been dangerous.  

And now Y/N shows up with a freshly bandaged arm?  

It didn’t sit right.  

“Everything okay?” Lando asked casually, his tone light but probing.  

“Never better,” Y/N said, her smirk widening as she met his gaze.  

He didn’t look away, his eyes darkening as suspicion took root.  

“Funny,” he said after a pause. “I heard there was some trouble at the docks last night.”  

Y/N’s smirk faltered for the briefest moment before she recovered, her laugh light and dismissive. “Trouble at the docks? Sounds like your security needs an upgrade.”  

Lando didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flicking to her arm again.  

“What happened to your arm?” he asked, his voice sharper now.  

--- 

My chest tightened, but I didn’t let it show.  

“Cut myself,” I said easily, gesturing vaguely. “Kitchen accident. You know, knives can be tricky.”  

Lando didn’t look convinced.  

His dark eyes locked onto mine, the intensity in his gaze making my stomach churn. For a moment, I thought he might press further, might connect the dots right there and then.  

But instead, he leaned back, his smirk returning, though it didn’t reach his eyes.  

“Be careful,” he said, his tone deceptively smooth. “Wouldn’t want you getting hurt again.”  

His words felt like a challenge, and I forced myself to meet his gaze without flinching.  

“I’ll try,” I replied, my voice steady despite the tension simmering between us.  

--- 

As Y/N turned to leave, Lando watched her go, his mind racing.  

The timing of her injury, the break-in, and her evasiveness didn’t feel like a coincidence.  

He tapped his fingers against the counter, his jaw tightening as he considered the implications.  

If it was her...  

His thoughts were interrupted by Oscar, who spoke quietly. “Something doesn’t add up, does it?”  

“No,” Lando said, his voice low.  

And not for the first time, doubt crept into his mind—not just about Y/N’s story, but about who she really was.  

To be continued... 

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Series Taglist: @laptime-deleted, @planet-faerie, @iloveotters11, @anamiad00msday

LN4 Taglist: @esserenorris, @tallrock35, @yourbane, @lightdragonrayne, @really-fucking-tired, @evie-119, @ilivbullyingjeongin, @ggaslyp1, @icecoldtires, @cmleitora, @cheyennep3107, @d3kstar, @fadingcloudballoon-blog, @same1995, @hinamesgigantica, @laptime-deleted, @planet-faerie, @iloveotters11. @anamiad00msday

[cailinsblog]

A Christmas to Remember | lando norris

Lando Norris x reader

Guyssss it’s almost Christmas

The cold winter air bit at Lando Norris’s face as he stood outside his apartment, looking out over the twinkling lights of the city. It was Christmas Eve, and the usual hustle and bustle of Formula 1 had quieted down for the season. For the first time in what felt like forever, Lando had time to truly relax, and he was about to spend it with the one person who always made him feel at home — his girlfriend, Y/N.

Lando had been counting down the days, excited not only for the Christmas festivities but also for the surprise he had planned for her. After months of searching for the perfect gift, he had finally found something that he knew would make her heart melt — a puppy. But this wasn’t just any puppy; it was a fluffy, playful Golden Retriever, with soft fur and eyes full of curiosity. Lando could already imagine the look of joy on Y/N’s face when she saw it, and that was all the motivation he needed.

As he unlocked the door to his apartment, he stepped inside, where he was greeted by the warm glow of Christmas decorations. The room was filled with the sweet smell of cinnamon and pine from the candles he had lit, and there was a large, beautifully decorated tree in the corner. Underneath it, a pile of carefully wrapped presents sat, some of which Lando had already picked out for Y/N. But there was one more — the one he was most excited about — sitting on the table, waiting for the perfect moment.

Y/N was in the kitchen, humming as she prepared their dinner. She looked up when she heard the door open, a smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of Lando.

“There you are!” she said, wiping her hands on a towel and walking toward him. “I was starting to think you’d be late for our Christmas dinner.”

Lando chuckled, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, love. You’ve got everything set up so beautifully.”

Y/N blushed slightly, her eyes lighting up with happiness. “Well, you know, I wanted to make it extra special for us. It’s our first Christmas together.”

Lando’s heart swelled at her words. He’d spent so much of his life on the road, traveling from race to race, that he often forgot the simple joys of life. But with Y/N by his side, he was reminded every day of how much he had to be grateful for.

They sat down for dinner, chatting about everything and nothing as they shared their favorite holiday foods. The sound of Christmas music played softly in the background, and for a while, it felt like time had slowed down, just for them.

After dinner, Lando couldn’t contain his excitement any longer. “I’ve got something for you,” he said, standing up and walking toward the table where the puppy’s gift was hidden.

Y/N tilted her head, intrigued. “What is it?”

Lando pulled out a small, plush puppy and handed it to her. “I know it’s not much, but I thought you might like it.”

Y/N looked at the little stuffed animal, a soft smile crossing her face. “Oh, Lando, it’s so cute! Thank you!”

But before she could say anything else, Lando went to the door and opened it slightly, peeking inside. “Actually, that’s not the only surprise I have for you.”

A moment later, the real surprise entered the room: a playful, golden retriever puppy, bounding through the door with its tail wagging and ears perked up.

Y/N gasped, her hands flying to her mouth in shock. “Lando… is this…?”

“It’s ours,” Lando said, his voice full of excitement. “I thought it was time for us to have a little bundle of joy. What do you think?”

Tears sprang to Y/N’s eyes as she bent down to scoop the puppy into her arms. The little dog licked her face, its tail wagging furiously as Y/N giggled with pure joy. “Oh my God, Lando, you are the sweetest person in the world,” she whispered, cradling the puppy close.

“I’m glad you like him,” Lando said, his heart bursting with happiness. “What should we name him?”

Y/N looked down at the puppy, her mind racing with ideas. “I think… we should name him ‘Charlie,’” she said, her eyes lighting up. “It feels right.”

Lando nodded. “Charlie it is. Welcome to the family, little guy.” He leaned down to give Y/N and the puppy a kiss on the cheek, feeling like the luckiest man alive.

The rest of the evening was filled with laughter and love, the couple spending time with their new furry friend as they exchanged stories, gifts, and holiday wishes. As the clock struck midnight, signaling the arrival of Christmas Day, Y/N stood up and handed Lando a carefully wrapped box.

“Your turn,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Lando smiled as he took the box from her, carefully unwrapping it to reveal a custom helmet. It was a work of art — a helmet painted with intricate details, featuring his McLaren team colors, and the faces of his closest friends and family, including Y/N and himself. On one side of the helmet, there was a small but detailed image of the two of them together, holding hands, with the puppy sitting beside them.

Lando was speechless, staring at the helmet in awe. “Y/N… this is amazing. How did you—?”

“I had it commissioned,” she said, her smile widening. “I wanted you to have something that would remind you of home every time you get in the car. And no matter how far you go, you’ll always have us with you.”

Lando’s eyes softened as he gently placed the helmet on the table. “I… I don’t know what to say. This is perfect. You’re perfect.”

Y/N blushed, a shy smile curling on her lips. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” he said, pulling her close. “You’ve made this Christmas unforgettable.”

With Charlie nestled between them, Lando and Y/N spent the rest of the night by the fire, exchanging stories and dreams for the future. They had both given each other the perfect gifts — one that symbolized the promise of a new beginning, and the other that was a reminder of the love and family they had already built.

As the fire crackled and the lights on the tree twinkled softly in the background, Lando couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace. Christmas was no longer about the races, the fame, or the fast cars. It was about moments like this — quiet, intimate, full of love.

And in that moment, Lando knew that no matter where the road took him, he would always have Y/N and Charlie by his side. Christmas had never felt more complete.

[saintslewis]

forever yours: the series | 44

— series.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black oc, lindokuhle lee vilakazi

summary: work just never ends for lee, even during her down time but hey? more money and possibly more connections.

warnings for this chapter: cussing, outfit descriptions, social media.

saint’s team radio 🪽: first chapter! hope y’all enjoy 🤍

pls like, comment and reblog!

taglist down below!

dividers from @cafekitsune

ATLANTA, GA

The smell of hair straighteners burning through each bundle filled Lee with some sort of comfort, knowing she was going to walk out of this salon with a fresh do and a check on her maintenance to-do list.

It wasn’t that exciting of a race that she’d have to go to in a few days time. Austria. Not always the most fun of grand prixs but it fills a gap for the ever growing f1 calendar. She looked straight ahead at the mirror watching the hairstylist work her magic in the prestigious looking salon Lee had seen on instagram.

The stylists here were nosy, trying to be all up in people’s businesses including that of customers. Lee had no time to take no bullshit but she knew the lady was still working on her head, something she knew she couldn’t afford to mess up. Her phone became boring after some time even seeing a few messages from her assistant and her niece’s babysitter/ au pair.

“Hold up, hold up!” A voice yelled out in the salon with excitement in the tone. “Don’t I know you from somewhere, girl?”

Lee hoped and prayed that they weren’t talking to her. They couldn’t be. She wasn’t all that known except in the f1/sports community. “Yeah, you look real familiar, girl!” And in the corner of her eye, she saw another hairstylist plop down on the seat next to her with the biggest grin on her face. “Kya! Remember that girl I showed you with that fine ass man two weeks ago?” The lady shouted over to someone else.

Oh God. Lee immediately knew what this was about. It’s all anyone recognised her for the past few weeks. During the week of the Canadian Grand Prix, someone compiled a bunch of vids that included Lee and the sport’s greatest, Lewis Hamilton lookin cozy. First, it was the camera pointed to Lee during the race and of course she had to admit, her makeup looked good that day.

Then it was when a couple of fans saw them walking together through the paddock to their respective cars, laughing and a hug that lasted a little longer than usual and that had the internet going ballistic.

Forcing a smile, Lee gathered the energy to speak when the lady was done speaking. “Yeah! That’s her! That nigga looked rich, girl. That’s your man or what because if not, a sister could use a little lovin.” The woman laughed, causing a ripple effect in the salon, hairstylists and patrons alike.

To be messy or to not be messy? It’s not like she’s ever going to see these people ever again.

“We’re not a thing. He’s just a close friend but if you want, I’ll put in a good word for ya.” Lee spoke, already feeling the heat of the hot comb a little too close to her scalp through the wig cap.

The woman stared at her then smiled. “You a real one! And your accent is cute as hell.” She got up and left Lee’s side to her other friends and Lee sighed in relief. She’s been asked that very question one too many times in the past few weeks.

Sitting for another 30 minutes, Lee finally got up, paid and left the salon feeling all brand new. Of course she spared smiles and laughs with the hairstylists but she’s never wanted to get out of there quicker. The noise and heat was just overstimulating her senses. She still tipped though, you don’t get champagne at every hair salon.

“Yes, Santana?” Lee answered the phone, settling into her car seat of her rental. She’ll admit it, she did splurge on the rental but it’s not like she had anything to lose. Although the Maybach did fuel some unnecessary rumours.

“Lee, oh my goodness! I’ve been trying to reach you. Anyways, Lewis’ publicist and I were speaking and he’d like for you to speak in his segment for Drive to Survive in Austria. He arranged a whole thing.” Santana spoke through the phone, sounding like she was in the city.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she thought over of it for a second. “You know what? Sure. I know there’s gonna be a bit of a schedule change though for me, right?” Lee asked, fastening her seatbelt and connecting her phone to the car speaker so she could pull out of the parking space.

“Yeah, you’d be missing that SkySports segment with Danica about Red Bull and VCARB. So it’s all up to you-”

“Absolutely cancel that shit. I’ll speak to Lewis more about the deets but thank you, Santana. See you at the airport, yeah?” She turned into a drive thru of some fast food restaurant, she was too hungry to even focus.

The two wrapped up the convo and within 10 minutes, Lee got her food. Deciding to not eat in the car, she sped through to her airbnb and hopped out. Setting her phone on the kitchen island, she facetimed Lewis rather so she could eat.

“You still in Spain? I know those clouds from anywhere.” She joked once the call connected and she could see his confused face pop up on the screen. “Matter of fact, I’m in London but I’ll let you have that one.” Lewis smiled, finding a spot to sit down so he could have her whole attention.

“Listen, I’m hearing that you wanted me to speak with Netflix?” Lee unpacked her food order and laid it out in front of her.

He furrowed his eyebrows a bit before realising what she was talking about. “Oh um, yeah. Wanted to get through to you professionally and all that. Need someone on my side, y’know?” He cleared his throat, making his voice slightly raspy.

“My whole career is based around supporting you, Lewis. So I don’t mind, you know I got it. They want me to say some shit about your move to Ferrari?” Lee looked at the screen as she drank her soda.

Lewis nodded, his eyes slightly squinted under his cap. “I know it’s been a recurring topic but I just wanted someone who’ll be positive all the way through the segment.” He scratched his beard.

“Okay, no problem. I’ll talk to those directors then because they tried to talk to me earlier. You know I was supposed to work with Danicka before I heard of your thing?” Lee chuckled in disbelief, biting into a spoonful her grilled chicken bowl.

“You look good.” He spoke, smiling when he saw her being taken aback at his compliment. “Thank you? I got my hair done today, this is what Austria will see on their screens. But did you hear what I said?” Lee raised her eyebrow at the man.

Lewis chuckled before answering. “I heard, love but I don’t want to talk about her or any of them. Tell me, how are you getting to Austria?”

Pausing her hand on the spoon, she looked at him. “No, Lewis, I will not be flying with you. We’ve already got enough rumours as it is. Plus, I don’t wanna step on nobody’s toes.” Lee went back to stabbing through her food.

“Should I ask you again? I rather like the back and forth with you.” Lewis giggled, seeing her eyes dart to the screen once again. “Whatever you say, I’ll just smile and nod.”

She rolled her eyes. He was unbelievable. “Whatever you say, Mr Hamilton. I’ll see you in Austria next week.” Lee smiled, eating another spoonful of her food. He sighed and now it was his turn to roll his eyes at her stubbornness.

The two continued speaking on the Netflix interviews and how the directors would twist their words for the sake of good television. The conversation didn’t last too long because Lewis had other things to tend to whilst Lee would appreciate eating her lunch peacefully without him teasing her about looking like a chipmunk while she had food in her mouth.

-

RED BULL RING, AUSTRIA

Her heels were surprisingly comfortable for their first wear. The small chair that Netflix provided was a bit cold but luckily she didn’t have to be there for too long before she returned to SkySports to film something within the paddock.

The film crew assistant’s hands were shaking as he tried to mic Lee up. Because of how much time it took to get the mic strapped, some people got the nerve to walk up to her in her most peaceful time in the paddock.

“You know, I’ve always thought you looked super intimidating with your heels on! Like you’re a villain or something.” A loud, agitating voice with a side of clacking sandals invaded her personal space even more than the man strapping up the mic on her back.

Sighing and rolling her eyes, Lee gave Danicka a sharp look, one that said ‘shut up or you’ll get your ass beat’, and fixed the sleeves or her blazer. It didn’t take too long for everything to be set before beginning her solo segment on something the RedBulls were doing this weekend.

Damn, I need a shot. Or more money to motivate me

So focused on her inner thoughts while watching the playback video of her segment, she got knocked out of it by a tap on her shoulder. Once she felt the tap and it awoke her senses, she also heard the cheers and murmurs surrounding her. It could only be one person.

“Good morning, Lewis.” Lee said to her dear friend, who loved to do this surprising thing lately, as she stood up straight. The man was always in awe when he locked eyes with her. “Mornin’ Lee. I’ll see you later for our thing, yeah?” He smiled, his eyes probably crinkling behind his sunglasses.

“We have a thing?” Her eyebrows furrowed, her nose scrunching up a tiny bit before letting go. A little trait of hers that Lewis loves so much. “You need to check your emails more, sweetheart.” He winked, she just knew he did, behind the designer sunnies before walking away, tucking his hands back into his pockets.

What she could not explain was why her stomach did the thing when he winked. When she smelled his delicious cologne and surprisingly loving his Adam Sandler-esque tracksuit.

“Uh Lee? Are you okay?” The cameraman, Josh, stood up straight and asked his friend in concern. Snapping out of it, she looked at Josh. “Huh? Oh, yeah I’m good. Just fine.” She reassured him, looking back at the direction Lewis went, knowing very well that he left a while ago.

Josh then had a smirk on his face. “Right. What’d your boyfriend say?” He teased, feeling a smack on his arm a second later. “Don’t start with me, Josh. Don’t even think about it, yoh.” She warned, stepping back to the front of the camera to finish up her work.

saint’s notes 🧝🏽‍♀️: wellllll this is a small small introduction to the mini series and how their lil friendship goes! Lewis is a yearnerrrr in this one but that’s alright 🤭 hope you guys enjoyed!

🫧 tagslist: @mauvecherie-writes @chaneajoyyy @alika-4466 @queenshikongo3 @serpenttines @emjayewrites @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @vsfavs @motheroffae @h4vertzz @arshiyuh @henneseyhoe @cocobutterqwueen @gwenda-fav @httpsserene @peyiswriting @saturnville @purplelewlew @greedyjudge2 @sunfairyy @marvel-hotchner @boujiestpoet @f1-football-fiend @shhhchriss @jewel-diva44 @pickingupmymercedes @tian-monique

🫧 dividers: @cafekitsune

[grogwrites]

The Sound of Sunshine - L.N. 4

Part Two • Navigation

Summary: Lando vacations in Hawaii for the first time over the winter break, where he meets a carefree surfer who turns his world upside down

Pairing: Lando Norris x Female OC

CW: so much fluff that you might get a cavity, mentions of being hungover/vomiting, very slight swearing if you squint hard enough

A/N: in case you missed my previous post, this fanfic is available to read on Wattpad as well! You can find it here 🌞💛 Divider by @enchanthings-a • Full Fanfic Soundtrack can be found here ✨

Word Count: 1.8k

* DISCLAIMER: I do not know any of the people in this fanfiction personally, these are all just the works of my imagination.

As the bright, Hawaiian sun filtered through the curtains in his suite, Lando groaned in annoyance. His head was throbbing in pain. He sleepily covered his face with his hands in a poor attempt to block out the light. He regretted his drinking yesterday, especially without any water. As he recounted his poor decision making skills, he was hit with a beautiful reminder:

Kiki.

He quickly dropped his hands, then clumsily fumbled for his phone on his nightstand. Even without the liquid influence in his bloodstream, Lando’s little crush was definitely still bubbling inside of him at the thought of the girl. When he turned on the device, he saw her familiar name flash across his screen:

Kailani: is the celebrity too busy for a bike ride later today? ;)

The lack of modern emojis made Lando laugh under his breath. Something about her made his adrenaline pick up speed, and crave for more. Like a damn drug. His thumbs quickly got to work, as they slid across the phone screen to type out a response.

Lando: Never too busy for you. What time?

As he locked it again, the realization dawned on him that he probably needed to make an attempt to cure his hangover—throwing up on a bike ride with a pretty girl was not something he wanted on his agenda for the day. He climbed out of bed, beginning the motions for his morning routine: shower, brush his teeth, get dressed, and continuously check his phone for any texts back. It was mildly embarrassing, having felt like he was a teenager all over again. 25 years old, and this hippie music teacher was driving him insane…in a good way, of course. In a great way. He had to remind himself that texting back on a flip phone took longer than it would on a smartphone, but god he was an impatient man.

Once he pulled a t-shirt on over his head, he grabbed the keys to his rental car and hotel room, then made his way towards the small restaurant in the resort—silently praying that they had something greasy for a hangover remedy. When his phone buzzed again in his pocket, he excitedly reached for it.

Kailani: school gets out just a little after 3. pick you up at 3:30?

Lando: it’s a date x

He wasn’t actually sure if that was her intention, but he wanted her to know that he had every intention on pursuing her. If there was anything he wanted to accomplish on this winter break, it was getting to know her. Lando was riding that vacation-situationship high, and he was going to ride the damn thing to the grave.

.

Kailani attempted to steady her breathing as she watched anxiously for Lando. Inviting him for this bike ride was a long shot, considering he was pretty far gone when they met yesterday. She wasn’t sure he would still be interested, or even remember her for that matter. She tugged at the straps on her overalls, finding literally anything to occupy her energy.

The weather was perfect today—not a cloud in the sky, or a breeze in the air. Kailani planned to take Lando through town to hopefully swing by her favorite smoothie bar, but it just depended on if he could bike that far. Sure, he said he was a race car driver, but she didn’t have anything in her disposal to back up his claim. She had her work computer, but with the Christmas program a few days away, she barely touched the thing within the last few weeks. Trying to wrangle over eighty kids in one small gymnasium was…a lot.

“Hey, stranger.”

The familiar British drawl pulled her from her thoughts, as she turned to find Lando sauntering over to her. Kailani was never very good at hiding her feelings, but why would she want to? Life was too short to try and beat around the bush—she made a promise to herself three years ago after treatment ended that she was going to live every day as if it were going to be her last. So, she smiled at him. She was going to continue to ask him on dates if he’d allow her, and she was going to make sure he knows that she’s interested in him. If you don’t swim, you’ll drown.

“You’re sober!” She happily observed, which elicited a laugh from him. His dimples alone could’ve killed her on the spot.

“If I knew I’d be meeting you yesterday, I probably wouldn’t have gone so overboard,” he replied with a shrug. He looked down at the two rental bikes that Kailani had propped up behind her. “Where’s your truck?”

“At home,” she explained while walking around the bikes. “I usually walk to work.” Lando frowned, then met her gaze again.

“How did you get these here?”

“I walked,” she repeated as she kicked the stand up on one of the bikes. She grabbed ahold of the handles, then swung her leg over to sit on it. “Now, are you done asking me questions, Romeo? I wasn’t aware that walking was such a controversial topic.”

“It’s not,” Lando laughed once more, holding his hands up in defense. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She watched as he climbed onto his bike. “You just…continue to surprise me.”

Kailani felt her heart flutter. Lando could say anything to her, and she’d swoon, she thought.

As they began their bike ride, they kept a comfortable pace, riding side by side. This was what she enjoyed the most about leaving her car at home: feeling the sun on her face, smelling the ocean, seeing the tourists and her neighbors walking through town…she loved life. She loved living. It took a lot of downhill slopes to get to where she was, but it was worth it—so beyond worth it. It was why she got rid of her phone, her TV, and her computer. It was why she often walked or biked around the island if the weather allowed—because it reminded her to look up at the world around her. She never wanted to miss a day, or a chance, or a moment ever again.

“So, Kiki,” Lando finally spoke up, breaking their comfortable silence. “Other than music and surfing, what do you do?”

“A lot,” she admitted. “Having no electronics has permitted me to learn a lot of different things. I crochet, sew, paint, make jewelry…sometimes I think I have too many hobbies.”

“You make jewelry?” Lando laughed. “Like what?”

“Mostly necklaces,” she smiled, glancing at him briefly. “I use shells that I find at the beach to make them.”

Kailani led them down a small side road, which she considered to be the scenic route to the smoothie shop. It took them through a small cobblestone path that was surrounded by palm trees, and beautiful plumeria trees. She could see Lando’s face light up at the different colors they passed, which made her chest warm. She wanted to do anything she could to make him smile like that again. She slowed her bike down by one of the trees, with Lando following in suit.

“Tell me more about your racing,” she requested as she propped her bike on its stand again. She began to pick a few plumerias—the orange ones were her favorite.

“Oh,” he paused. “Well, I began karting when I was seven. I’ve been in Formula 1 for almost six years, now.” Kailani looked over to him. She made her way back, handing him the plumerias she picked.

“So what exactly brings a race car driver to Honolulu?” She hummed as he tentatively accepted the plant from her. She watched the corners of his mouth twitch as he delicately held the orange flowers in his hand.

“Ah, a break,” he finally responded, meeting her gaze again. “We just won the Constructor’s Championship. I’m off until March.” She raised her eyebrows at him as she climbed back on her bike. He quickly followed, sticking the plumerias behind his ear.

“So does that mean I get you for a whole three months?” She teased as they turned back onto the main road. Lando smiled next to her.

“You can have me as long as you’d like.”

.

As they walked back to the resort, Lando had completely lost track of time. He didn’t even realize the sun was setting until they left the smoothie bar. By the time they returned the rental bikes, the sun was gone completely. He watched as Kiki happily chewed on her straw, observing their surroundings intently. Lando had noticed today that she was particularly intuitive to the world around them. She was emotionally present in their conversations, while also soaking in every ounce of energy that was around them. He could tell she loved where she lived, but he couldn’t blame her. It was beautiful here, and he was only three days into his trip. Despite knowing Kiki for a short twenty four hours, he somehow knew that leaving was going to be incredibly difficult. But he didn’t want to think about that. Not now, anyways. Not when things felt so…perfect.

“Can I give you a ride back to your house?” He offered. She looked up at him.

“If you would like to,” she sighed happily. “I’m used to walking at night, though.” Lando internally fought with himself on the decision to wrap an arm around her, before making himself pull the move. Much to his surprise, she seemed to reciprocate the gesture as she nestled herself closer to him. He could feel himself blush, and thanked god it was dark outside.

“Hmm,” Lando looked at the resort ahead of them, “I would like to give you a ride. I’d feel better about it, plus it gives me more time to spend with you.”

“How chivalrous,” Kiki teased, lightly nudging his chest with her elbow. “Lando, would you have any interest in joining me at the school tomorrow?”

“Am I even allowed to?” He laughed, looking down at her. He hadn’t even realized she was laying her head against him until now, which practically skyrocketed his heart into space.

“Of course,” she shrugged before taking another sip of her smoothie. He finished his drink ages ago, but he noticed she’s a rather slow consumer. “You could be my classroom helper for the day.”

“Wow, that sounds like a lot of responsibility,” Lando smirked as they stopped by his rental car. Kiki stepped out of the embrace, then looked up at him.

“It is,” she stated firmly, though her tone wavered with a hint of sarcasm. He could tell she was trying to hide her smile as she spoke. “So don’t mess it up, Romeo.”

“I won’t,” Lando held his pinky out to her. “I promise.” Kiki gave into the smile as she interlocked her finger with his. He held on to her hand for a moment, letting the simple gesture sink in. Who knew that something so small would eventually mean the world to him.

.

* None of my writing is available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are appreciated.

©️ grogwrites, 2024

Taglist:

@lilaissa @cabbyhabs @gogeroni @fat-meh @xivilivix @henna006 @hadids-world @i-need-to-be-put-down @gigicisneros @ash88-yep

[thef1diary]

Royally Fucked | Seven

— Heated Fantasies 18+

series masterlist

wc: 5.3k

not putting specific chapter warnings yet, because I don’t want to spoil the fun, but minors dni

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

─────────── ♛ ───────────

The silent indigo night stretched across the sky like a velvet blanket, dotted with speckles of stars that twinkled faintly in the vast expanse. The secluded safe house, hidden deep within a lush forest clearing, felt worlds away from the pressures of her life, cocooned in quiet and shadow. Above the tallest trees, the night sky unfolded, clear and endless, the celestial display spilling its faint light through the sheer curtains of Juliette’s bedroom, casting delicate patterns across the floor.

Inside, the stillness was thick, almost suffocating, with only the soft rustle of sheets breaking the silence. The spacious king-size bed welcomed her into its cocoon of soft sheets, their gentle embrace warming her skin. She had assured Daniel that she would be fine to sleep alone, comforted by the knowledge that he was just down the hall. Yet, as her eyes flicked to the empty chair in the corner—the one he had occupied just days ago—she found herself longing for his proximity in ways she hadn’t dared to acknowledge.

The chair was a shadowed reminder of his absence, yet in her mind, he was still there, a phantom presence watching over her with those intense honey-brown eyes. Her breath hitched as the memory of his broad shoulders and the quiet strength he radiated seeped into her thoughts. She could almost feel the weight of his gaze, the way it had lingered on her everyday, protective yet simmering with something unspoken.

Juliette’s hand slipped beneath the sheets covering her, fingertips trailing over her bare skin with a languid, deliberate touch. The coolness of the silk contrasted with the heat building inside her, a fire that had been smouldering for days, now ready to burst into flames. Her mind conjured him up, Daniel as he would be if he were here—the sharp cut of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the way his casual clothes made it easier to forget the formal roles they played. In the darkness, it was easier to pretend that the boundaries between them didn’t exist, that he was hers for the taking.

She imagined him leaning over her, his body pressing close—just as it had days before—his scent enveloping her like a potent drug. Rich and inviting, it carried the earthy notes of sandalwood and cedar, intertwined with the faint spice of amber and a crisp hint of something fresh, like mountain air. The warm, masculine blend lingered softly, and as Juliette burrowed deeper into her pillow and blanket, she could catch the remnants of his scent clinging to the fabric, almost convincing her that he was there beside her.

The thought alone sent a shiver down her spine, her fingers moving with more purpose now, tracing a path down her stomach, teasing herself in a way she knew he would if he was here. She imagined his hands—rough and commanding, yet tender, knowing just how to make her yield. He would touch her with a confidence born from knowing that she, a princess who held power over everyone else, would gladly give it all up for him. Only for him.

In her mind, his lips found her neck, warm and insistent, tasting her skin with a languid hunger that made her arch into him. Her breath quickened, soft gasps escaping her lips as her hand moved lower, her touch growing bolder, mimicking the way she wished he would touch her, She could almost feel his mouth trailing down, finding the sensitive spot just below her ear, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered her name in that deep, accented voice that sent thrills coursing through her.

Her fingers dipped down to her pussy, finding the wetness that had been building since the moment she first thought of him. It wasn’t just a fleeting fantasy—Daniel had become a constant presence in her mind, haunting her every thought as the days passed. Each morning, she awoke to the memory of his warm smile, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he joked with her, only to be replaced by the tension that crackled between them. She found herself replaying their moments together, unable to shake the way his touch had lingered a little too long on her arm, the way his gaze had dropped to her lips when they’d spoken, how his scent clung to the clothes she borrowed to tease him, yet ended up wanting him even more.

The tension from that day on the sofa had never truly dissipated; it had merely been restricted, a dam holding back the flood of emotions that threatened to break free every time they were alone together. She had felt it in the way his hands had brushed against her skin, in the way his breath had hitched when she’d leaned in a little too close. It was as if they were both teetering on the edge of something forbidden, something dangerous, yet undeniably tempting. Every time she caught his eye, the tension returned, tightening around her chest, leaving her breathless with the sheer weight of it.

Now, as her fingers slid over her slick folds, she couldn’t escape the heat that spread through her body, the deep ache that only he could satisfy. She imagined his rough, calloused hands taking the place of her own, his touch possessive and tender, making her tremble with the need that had been building for days. The thought of him, of how easily he could unravel her, made her hips lift off the bed, seeking more of that imagined pleasure, her body moving instinctively to the rhythm of her desire for him.

She could see him above her, his eyes dark with desire, his body taut with restraint as he held back, waiting for her to beg for more, to turn her from a regal princess to a moaning, begging mess. All for him. The thought of it, of him hovering over her, so close yet so far, made her ache with need. Her hand moved faster, matching the rhythm she imagined he would set, the pace that would drive her to the edge and beyond. Her thumb circled her clit, sending jolts of pleasure through her as she pictured his mouth there, devouring her with the same hunger that burned in her own veins.

The fantasy unraveled her, the line between reality and desire blurring until there was nothing but him—his hands, his mouth, his words, his body pressing her into the mattress, taking her apart and putting her back together in the most delicious ways. She could almost hear his voice, rough with want, telling her how good she felt around him, how much he needed her, how he had been holding back for so long but couldn’t spend another minute without having her under him.

Her body tightened, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she chased the release that was so close, so close she could taste it. The tension coiled tighter and tighter until it snapped, pleasure crashing over her in waves that left her trembling, her head turned to the side to muffle the cries against the pillow as her body convulsed with the intensity of it. She rode out her orgasm with her fingers still working in her pussy and on her clit, milking every last bit until she was spent, her limbs heavy and her mind floating in the blissful aftermath.

As she laid there, her body still humming with the echoes of her release, her thoughts remained on Daniel. Even though he’d been in the next room over, he had been barely inches away in the deepest, most secret part of her imagination. The reality that she could never truly have him, not in the way she wanted, did little to quell the craving that grew with each passing day. The more she tried to resist, the more she longed for him, the man who was always just out of reach, yet so deeply embedded in her desires.

The room was still, the soft hum of the night barely audible beyond the walls, but the silence inside her mind was overwhelming. The weight of what she had just done sank in slowly, a tangle of satisfaction and guilt tightening in her chest. She had imagined Daniel—her bodyguard—so vividly that his touch seemed almost real, like a phantom lingering on her skin. The intensity of the fantasy had left her breathless, caught between the exhilarating high of her release and the creeping shame that followed.

Now, as the warmth of her climax faded, the harsh reality set in, replacing the euphoria with a heavy awareness of the line she had crossed, even if only in her mind. What began as a fleeting thought had grown into something dangerous, impossible to dismiss. Her heart still raced, not from pleasure, but from the clarity of the aftermath—a realization that she had let herself go too far. She shifted beneath the sheets, feeling the dampness that clung to her skin, the evidence of her desire mingling with the growing discomfort gnawing at her conscience. The echoes of Daniel’s imagined voice still lingered in her ears, making it impossible to ignore how much she had wanted him, how much she still did. Yet, the thrill of it all was now tinged with a bitter edge.

The fantasy that had felt so right moments ago now left her feeling exposed and vulnerable, her hidden desires clashing with the role she was meant to uphold. Juliette, who always prided herself on control, had lost her grip tonight, and now, the fleeting bliss was gone, replaced by the undeniable truth of her forbidden longing.

Unable to shake the icky feeling of indulging in such a forbidden fantasy, Juliette slipped out of bed, the cool night air brushing against her flushed skin as she made her way to the bathroom. Sunrise was still hours away, darkness wrapping around her as she made her way to the bathroom.

The tiles were cold beneath her feet, grounding her as she reached into the shower to turn on the water. The guilt clung to her, heavy and suffocating, as she stepped under the warm spray, letting it cascade over her. The heat of the water was soothing, washing away the sweat and remnants of her pleasure, but it couldn’t cleanse the thoughts that lingered.

As the water poured down her body, the guilt began to ebb away, replaced by the persistent, unbidden thoughts of him. Even now, she couldn’t stop herself from picturing Daniel—how he would look under the dim bathroom light, his skin glistening with moisture, the way the water would run down his strong, defined chest, his muscles flexing as he moved closer to her. The ache returned, a throbbing need that pulsed between her legs, growing more insistent the longer she stood there.

Her gaze dropped to the showerhead, the stream of water suddenly holding a different allure. The thought was daring, wicked, but she was already past the point of holding back. With a shaky breath, she reached up, detaching the showerhead from its holder. The water sprayed in a gentle mist, but she adjusted it, narrowing the stream until it was a focused jet, one that sent shivers down her spine as she imagined what it could do.

Juliette leaned back against the cool tiles, the sensation of the chilled surface contrasting sharply with the heat of the water cascading down her body. She spread her legs just enough to position herself under the stream, her breath catching as the water's initial touch sent shivers through her. The showerhead’s steady pulse hit her clit with intense precision, each pulse a jolt of pleasure that made her gasp and arch her back.

As her mind wandered, she imagined Daniel standing behind her, his presence both commanding and soothing. She could almost feel the cold tiles turning into the heat of his body against her back, his breath warm and heavy on her neck. In her fantasy, Daniel’s hands were unwavering, one firmly holding the showerhead in place, ensuring the pressure was relentless and perfect.

His other hand, strong and deliberate, moved to her folds, spreading them apart with a gentle but unyielding grip. He exposed her completely to the force of the water, his touch making sure she couldn’t hide from the sensation.

Juliette’s breath quickened into ragged, desperate gasps as the powerful stream of water and the vividness of her fantasy drove her closer to the edge. Her hips bucked involuntarily, matching the rhythm of the relentless pressure.

Her free hand slid up her body with a trembling anticipation, fingers trailing a path of heated desire across her skin. As she reached her chest, her fingertips brushed over her hardened nipples, the touch sending sharp jolts of pleasure through her. She circled them gently, teasing the sensitive peaks until she couldn’t hold back any longer. Her fingers squeezed and pinched them with a tender yet urgent pressure, each touch sending waves of heightened sensation through her.

Every caress of her fingers on her nipples, every shift of her hips under the water’s pressure, and every moan that escaped her lips drew her closer to the edge. The symphony of sensations—his imagined touch, the water’s relentless pressure, and her own feverish touch—melded into a crescendo of bliss that made her body writhe and shudder, consumed by the overwhelming need for release.

In her mind, Daniel’s voice was a low, throaty murmur, his words filled with unspoken command and desire. He encouraged her to let go, to surrender completely to the relentless pulse of the water, his touch a constant, teasing reminder of how easily he could unravel her. His presence was palpable, his touch imprinted on her skin even though he was not physically there.

The culmination of her fantasy hit her with an explosive force, her body trembling uncontrollably as she came apart under the relentless spray. Her cries of pleasure were muffled by the sound of the shower, her entire being consumed by the intense, imagined connection with Daniel. As the waves of her orgasm subsided, she leaned heavily against the tiles, her mind still whirling with the echoes of the fantasy that had so thoroughly captivated her.

With a trembling hand, she moved the showerhead, redirecting the spray to her now-sensitive nipples. The sharp, direct touch of the water sent jolts of pleasure through her, teasing her peaks with a brief, intense burst. She let out a soft moan, her body arching slightly as she tried to chase the lingering traces of ecstasy. But as the sensation became almost too much, she adjusted the showerhead again, turning it to a mistier spray.

The water’s gentler touch offered a soothing contrast, a cooling balm to the heat that had consumed her moments before. She scrubbed at her skin with a loofah, attempting to wash away the remnants of her fantasies and the lingering heat of her release.

Wrapped in a fluffy white towel, Juliette moved with a casual grace, the softness of the fabric offering a comforting embrace against her still-warm skin. She stepped closer to the mirror in her bedroom, studying her reflection as she ran her fingers through her damp hair, trying to shake off the remnants of her indulgent fantasy. Yet, no matter how much she tried to focus on the mundane task of brushing out the tangles, the memory of her climax refused to fade, clinging stubbornly to the edges of her thoughts.

Her reflection betrayed her attempts to appear collected, the flush of her cheeks still evident against her fair skin. Her normally composed features were tinged with a rosy hue, a testament to the intensity of what she had just experienced. Even as she smoothed down the towel around her chest, securing it more tightly, the warmth in her cheeks lingered, refusing to be scrubbed away like the water droplets on her skin.

As she reached for the bottle of lotion, she couldn’t help but notice the tremble in her fingers, a subtle but telling sign that her body was still reeling from the aftermath of her fantasy. She squeezed a small amount of the cream into her palm and began to apply it to her arms, the cool lotion a welcome distraction as she tried to ground herself in the present moment.

But, just as she began to regain a sense of normalcy, a soft knock sounded at the door. Juliette’s heart skipped a beat, the sudden interruption pulling her back to reality with a jolt. She hesitated for a moment as she stared at the door, knowing the person behind it was the star of her fantasies.

“Come in,” she called out, her voice steady despite the rush of adrenaline that coursed through her veins.

The door creaked open, and Daniel stepped into the room, his presence commanding the space in a way that made Juliette’s breath hitch. His gaze swept over her with a practiced calm, but beneath the surface, she could see the spark of something darker smouldering in his eyes.

Daniel’s eyes met hers for a brief moment, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. But then, almost imperceptibly, his gaze began to wander, tracing the lines of her form with a deliberate slowness that sent a shiver down her spine. He took in the curve of her bare shoulders, the soft swell of her collarbone, and the way the towel clung to her damp skin, revealing more than it hid. His eyes lingered on the exposed skin of her legs, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as if he knew exactly what had transpired before he arrived.

“Did you have a good shower?” Daniel asked, his voice low and smooth, but there was a knowing edge to it, a subtle challenge hidden beneath the polite inquiry.

Juliette’s pulse quickened, her fingers tightening around the bottle of lotion that she grabbed again as she struggled to maintain her composure. She could feel his eyes on her, burning into her like a brand, and it was impossible to ignore the way he seemed to drink in every detail of her appearance—the flushed cheeks, the slightly tousled hair, the faint sheen of sweat that still clung to her skin. It was as if he could see right through her, as if he knew exactly what she had been doing in the shower.

“Yes, it was… refreshing,” Juliette replied, her voice betraying a slight tremor. She could see the amusement in his eyes, the way his smirk deepened at her words, as if he was savoring the subtle tension that hung in the air between them.

Daniel didn’t respond immediately, his eyes roaming lower, following the path of her hands as she continued to apply the lotion to her arms. His gaze was heavy, intense, and she could feel it like a physical touch, making her skin tingle with anticipation.

Juliette’s breath caught as she felt his gaze drop lower still, lingering on the swell of her chest where the towel dipped just enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of cleavage. The silence stretched, thick with unspoken desire, until she could no longer bear it. Without thinking, she turned slightly, exposing the curve of her covered back to him, her voice dropping to a soft, almost pleading whisper as she turned her head to look at him.

“Daniel,” she murmured, the word slipping from her lips like a prayer, “could you help me with something?”

His eyes snapped to hers, the darkening gaze telling her that he understood the implications of her request. But there was a pause, a fleeting moment where he seemed to consider the consequences, weighing his options. Juliette could see the tension in his jaw, the way he swallowed hard as if trying to rein in the impulses that threatened to consume him.

“Help you with what?” he asked, his voice rougher now, edged with a dangerous curiosity.

Juliette shifted the towel slightly, loosening it enough for it to slip down her back, revealing the expanse of smooth, bare skin while her hands held the fabric against her chest, keeping that covered. Her heart pounded in her chest as she held his gaze, her lips curving into a faint, provocative smile.

“I need you to put some lotion on my back,” she replied, the words laced with a subtle challenge.

Daniel’s breath hitched as he took in the sight before him. Juliette had already turned, her back now fully exposed to him, the towel draped low on her waist, teasing the curve of her ass. The smooth expanse of her bare skin gleamed softly in the dim light of her bedroom, each delicate ridge and valley of her spine drawing his gaze downward. She was offering herself up to him, vulnerable yet impossibly confident, her every movement deliberate, challenging him to make the next move.

The room felt charged, the air thick with the unspoken tension that hung between them. Daniel swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he took a cautious step forward, his eyes fixated on the way the towel clung to her waist, barely holding on. The curve of her hips, the softness of her skin—everything about her called to him, pulling him closer, even as his better judgment screamed for him to keep his distance.

But he couldn’t resist. Not with her standing there like that, her head slightly turned, her lips curved up into that faint, knowing smile. He could see the subtle rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathed, and could feel the heat radiating from her body as he closed the distance between them.

Daniel took the bottle of lotion from Juliette’s hands, the brief brush of their fingers sending a jolt through him. He squeezed a generous amount into his palm, rubbing his hands together to warm the cream before placing them on her shoulders. The first touch of his fingers on her bare skin sent a shiver through Juliette, her breath hitching slightly as she felt the coolness of the lotion against her heated flesh.

He started slowly, his hands gliding over her shoulders, spreading the lotion with deliberate care. His touch was firm but gentle, a careful balance that had Juliette relaxing into him even as the tension between them mounted. His fingers traced the curve of her neck, skimming the delicate line of her collarbone before moving lower, pressing into the soft flesh of her upper back.

As Daniel’s hands moved down her spine, he allowed his fingers to dip dangerously close to the hem of the towel. His gaze followed the path of his hands, lingering on the smooth expanse of her back, the way the towel hung right below her hips. When his fingers grazed the curve of her ass, just below the edge of the towel, Juliette couldn’t suppress the sharp intake of breath that escaped her lips. His touch was light, teasing, as if testing the boundaries between them, daring her to respond.

“Is this what you wanted, Juliette?” he murmured, his voice low and rough in her ear. There was a note of dark amusement in his tone, a hint of challenge as he let his hands roam lower, skimming the sides of her waist before sliding dangerously close to the dip of her hips. “Or were you hoping for something more?”

Juliette’s pulse quickened at his words, her skin tingling beneath his touch. She met his gaze in the mirror, her eyes heavy with desire. “Maybe I was,” she whispered, her voice breathless, laced with need. The challenge was clear, and Daniel responded in kind, a smirk playing on his lips as he dipped his head lower, pressing his chin to her shoulder.

“Is that so?” Daniel’s breath was hot against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “Then watch.” His voice was commanding as he forced her to look at their reflections in the mirror.

His fingers brushed against the curve of her ass again, this time dipping just beneath the towel, teasing the soft flesh beneath. Juliette gasped, her body arching slightly at the sensation, but Daniel didn’t stop. He trailed his fingers back up, his touch firm as he pulled her closer by his grip on her hips, letting her feel the solidness of his chest, the taut muscles beneath his cotton shirt.

Juliette’s breath hitched as her back pressed against him, the heat of his body seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt. But what stole her breath was the unmistakable hardness she felt through his pants, pressing against her lower back. The realization sent a wave of desire crashing through her, her body responding instinctively, her hips pressing back against him in search of more contact.

Daniel’s lips brushed against her neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive skin there. Juliette tilted her head back, giving him better access, her eyes fluttering shut as she lost herself in the sensation. The kisses grew more intense, his lips sucking at the delicate skin, drawing out a soft moan from her as he nipped gently, leaving a darkening bruise in his wake. The sensation was intoxicating, each kiss a promise of something more, something forbidden.

His hands roamed over her body, mapping every inch of bare skin exposed to him, lingering where he knew it would drive her wild. Juliette’s grip tightened on the towel, holding it close to her chest, desperately clinging to the last shred of modesty. But deep down, she wanted nothing more than to let it fall, to let him see all of her, to let him touch all of her. Every nerve in her body screamed for more, for the release that only his touch could bring.

But then, just as she was on the edge of surrendering completely, Daniel pulled back. His hands left her skin, his lips trailed away from her neck, leaving a cool emptiness in their wake. The sudden loss of contact was like a slap of reality, jarring her from the haze of desire, leaving her breathless and aching. A protest caught in her throat, but before she could voice it, Daniel spoke.

“All done,” Daniel said, speaking of the task she gave him, his voice still tinged with desire. He stepped back, putting distance between them, though his eyes never left hers. There was a smirk on his lips, one that spoke of wicked intentions, of restraint barely held in check.

Juliette’s chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath, her mind racing to process what had just happened. The tension between them was electric, the air crackling with the unspoken promises that hung between them.

She looked him over, her gaze drifting downwards, lingering on the prominent bulge straining against the fabric of Daniel’s pants. A flicker of boldness ignited within her, and she met his gaze with a smirk.

Her voice, low and sultry, held a teasing edge as she asked, “are you sure you don’t need any help with… that?”

Daniel’s smirk widened into something darker, something lustful. He took a step closer, closing the distance between them until she could feel the heat radiating off his body. His eyes, filled with raw desire, locked onto hers as he leaned in, inches away from her face.

“I appreciate the offer, Juliette,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful intent. “But I won’t let you touch me until I’ve had my fill of you first.”

His hand slid down to grip her hip, while the other teased the gap of the towel by her legs. “The thing is,” he continued, “I’d want to take my time with you, find out just how many orgasms I can pull out of you. I want to make you beg for more, make you scream my name until you’re shaking from pleasure.”

His hand trailed up the gap, parting the towel with his fingers. “And once you’re completely ruined for anyone else, then maybe I’ll let you take care of me.”

The words sent a shiver down Juliette’s spine, her breath hitching at the vivid image he painted. The idea of being at his mercy, of him drawing out every ounce of pleasure until she was begging, made her knees weak. But before she could respond, he pulled back slightly, his smirk still firmly in place.

“Until then,” he added, his voice dark and velvety. “I’ll just have to make do with my hand. Like I’ve been doing almost every night since we arrived here.”

Juliette’s breath hitched at the thought of him lying awake in the next room, touching himself, thinking about her. A rush of heat flooded her cheeks, but she couldn’t suppress the soft whine that escaped her lips. “But I want you,” she whispered, her voice laced with desperation, her body thrumming with need.

Daniel’s eyes sparkled with amusement, though his desire was no less intense. “Oh, do you now?” he teased, leaning in closer, his lips hovering just above hers. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Juliette. Just saying you want me isn’t enough. I want to hear you beg for it. Whine for it. You’ll have to tell me exactly what you want, or you’re not getting anything from me.”

His words were a tantalizing taunt, each one igniting the fire burning inside her. Juliette felt her heart race, her pulse thundering in her ears as she tried to muster the words. But before she could, Daniel tutted softly, shaking his head. “I can’t read your mind, Juliette,” he murmured, his voice like molten honey. “And even if I could, I’d still want to hear you say it out loud.”

Her frustration mounted, her body screaming for more than just words. But Daniel was relentless, his restraint ironclad as he waited for her to cave. He knew exactly what he was doing, knew how to keep her on the edge of madness, teetering between pleasure and frustration.

Finally, with a small sigh, Daniel took a step back, the intensity in his eyes dimming slightly as he switched gears. “And as much as I enjoy our little games, I actually came here to tell you something important.” His tone was more serious now, though the desire still lingered beneath the surface.

Juliette’s expression faltered, the weight of his words settling over her like a dampened veil. The flicker of playfulness in her eyes faded away, replaced by a more guarded look as reality crept back in. She nodded, her eyes reflecting the mix of desire and restraint that now stood between them.

“We’re clear to leave tomorrow morning,” he said, his voice firm but gentle.

The words hit her like a splash of cold water. The safe house had been a bubble, a world apart from the pressures of the palace, a place where they could indulge in the fantasy of what could be. But now, with the prospect of returning to their roles, the walls between them threatened to rebuild themselves.

Juliette nodded slowly, her heart sinking at the thought of leaving this moment behind. Yet even as she acknowledged the shift, her desire for Daniel remained, a smoldering ember that refused to die out.

Daniel’s gaze softened as he took in her expression, and for a moment, it looked like he might break, that he might give in and close the distance between them again. But instead, he offered her one last, devilish smile.

“Get some rest, Your Highness,” he murmured, his voice low and intimate. “You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Juliette standing there, her body still aching with unmet desire, her mind spinning with the what-ifs that hung in the air. Though their time at the safe house had come to an end, the tension between them was only beginning to boil, threatening to spill over into something they could no longer control.

─────────── ♛ ───────────

[strawb3heart]

Christmas special

All I want for xmas | Charles Leclerc

Love under the mistletoe | Oscar Piastri

Such a Grinch | Max Verstappen

Matching sweaters | George Russell

A holiday surprise | Lando Norris

A bitter christmas | Toto Wolff

Please, come home | Carlos Sainz

[cherry-leclerc]

cherry cola ☆ op81

genre: smut, humor, yearning, tiny bit of fluff, virgin!reader, innocent!reader, experienced!oscar, sub!reader (for a while!), dom!oscar (for a while!)

word count: 8.5k

After a painful break up, Oscar finds himself head-to-head with an enticing girl, filled with pure innocence. Also known as, his parents secret weapon, and his worst temptation.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...f!receiving, fingering, brief mentions of masturbation, face riding, missionary sex, doggy style

inspired by this !

cherry here!... hellooo anons, long time, no see haha sorry for the lack of posts, but hopefully this makes up for it, somehow? formal apology for my last post too while we're at it. though this fic is inspired by cola by lana del rey, it will not have a sour ending like past fics (iykyk). missed u all, so here ya go! enjoy :)

There is an apprehensive sensation that towers over him as soon as she walks in; shy mannered, tall, and firm with a hint of hesitation—it’s something he adores about her, but also something that has him feeling jittery. Oftentimes, her lips are his most prized possession, enjoying the way they move. All except at this very moment. 

Everyone notices his bitter, broken, and quiet mood despite always laying low. He’s never been one to share his problems with others, and he most definitely was not going to start now. It should be the best moment of the season—his first win—but he doesn’t have the joy to celebrate it with anyone. 

Oscar’s brown eyes are low and dull; empty. He’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t see any of this coming. If he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt and misery. Should he have been more attentive, a better boyfriend, then he wouldn’t be regretting his life choices. Dramatic, but true. 

“How are you spending your summer break? Are you and Lily traveling?”

The Australian tries to scoff at the innocent inquiry beaming from his teammate, but he settles with a wince, not being able to hide it. “She, um…we broke up, actually.” He’s never been a religious individual—has never even set foot inside a church—but for the first time in his life, he prayed no more questions would be asked.

Lando raises his thick brows, clearly surprised by the sudden confession. Sure, they were a private couple—likely the most in the entire paddock—but he never saw this coming from Oscar and Lily. Though he only met her a couple of times, simply exchanging a kind greeting, he would’ve bet his entire Rolex collection that the couple were smitten with one another. “Ah, I’m sorry, mate.”

The rude sound of his race suit being zipped up harshly makes the Brit flinch in the slightest. “Don’t worry about it. That’s life, no?”

Costa Rica—they were supposed to go to Costa Rica. Instead, now, he sits alone on a flight back to his home country. He’s ecstatic to be sleeping in his childhood room with outdated posters hung of all his favorite drivers, but the feeling lingers. 

Sprawled like a koala, humid t-shirt pressed against his skin, he tosses and turns for an estimate of five whole minutes. He should be enjoying the beach, sipping on highly sweetened margaritas, getting the worst tan of his life, but he’s here. The hot summer air in Melbourne makes him spit out a string of dirty curses that would send his mum into a coma. 

The brunette might as well be an only child since not a single one of his three sisters were here to keep him company, ditching him with his parents. He loved them, of course he did, but a full house was his ideal way to spend his break. His home gym isn’t even enough to help him forget, even for a second. 

“Dinner is ready, honey,” Nicole announces, peeking carefully through the crack of the door. She grins widely. “There’s even pavlova—your favorite.”

He forces a polite nod, shaggy hair dangling just above his eyes. “Thank you. I’ll be out in a bit.” It actually takes a sum of thirty-minutes for him to jog down the stairs, a strong scent of apple expanding from his now washed hair. His dad hums as soon as he spots the McLaren driver. 

“It’s rude to leave guests waiting, Oscar,” he warns with a deep voice. 

The twenty-three year old assumes it’s a lame dad joke, perhaps, so runs along with it, taking a good look around the dining room. “Won’t happen again. I showered—”

“Where would you like to place the dessert, Mrs. Piastri?” a soft voice echoes down the hallway as he turns at the unfamiliar tone. You halt, caught off guard by the new presence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you would be here.” 

“In my own home?” he finds himself squeaking involuntarily. The stern look that dances across his parents faces is enough for him to bite down on his tongue. He doesn’t even know why he said any of that—especially to a stranger. 

They introduce you two quickly, though you’re just as fast as to say that you obviously knew about his existence. Do you follow my races? You shake your head, glossy hair shining. “I work for your parents, so…I sort of know. Plus, your sisters always talk highly about you when you’re gone.”

He blinks. “You work here?” Brown eyes flicker to his parents, confusion written all over. “What could she possibly do?”

“Oscar,” Nicole scolds. “I thought you left all the unnecessary questions back in junior high.”

Chris slides a large hand over her smaller one, calming her down just a tad bit. The older man sighs. “You know your mum, always looking for something new to do—”

“I wanted to grow a garden!” she squeals, delighted. “Like in all those magazines you get me for my birthday—oh, so lovely, honey. Only I realized, I don’t know anything about gardening.”

“And this lovely girl standing right here is a total natural. Her hands must be magic.” Oscar blushes hard at his dads choice of words. “She’s helping us out for the time being. Until we get back.”

The Australian's mouth opens, then snaps back shut, swallowing. “Get back from where?”

“Costa Rica!”

He gapes. “You’re using my tickets?”

Nicole winces. “Can’t let them go to waste, honey…”

His father butts in. “How is Lily by the way?”

The brunette groans, running his hands through his waves. “How should I know? Come on, you guys can’t be serious.” The tickets weren’t the problem; the fact that they were leaving was.  He spots you awkwardly placing the pastry down onto the table. “Can you give us a minute?” 

“Yes, of course,” you quip, glad to have a reason to flee far enough away from the premises. You turn to the Piastri’s who smile fondly at your understanding. “I’ll be out in the garden.”

As soon as you rush out, the twenty-three year old turns swiftly. “I guess I’m leaving too.”

“Don’t you dare, Oscar Jack Piastri—” He fumes. “Why not? You’re all going to be gone!”

“She won’t—you are keeping her company.” She’s not asking; she’s demanding. Staring back in shock, the McLaren driver avoids eye contact, fidgeting like a kid at their first day of school. His mum stands up, makes her way over, and pecks his soft cheek. “She’s a sweet girl. She won’t be a bother—she’s just down the hallway.”

That’s where Lily would always stay back when they first started their relationship; too afraid of making a bad impression on his parents. He found it adorable. He rolls his eyes and releases a heavy breath. “Fine.” He stares out the glass window, focusing on where you patiently sit on the wooden bench, delicate hands pressing your dress down against your thighs. “Fine...”

-

The following morning, his parents wake him up at the crack of dawn, bidding goodbye. It comes as a total surprise, thinking he had a few more days left with them, but no. He’s barely registering any of it before they whisper inaudible nonsense and scurry out of his bedroom. 

After some debating, he changes and decides to go on a quick run. The sight of Ms. Alleck watering her burnt grass makes him smile as he sets off. It would have been easier to not get as tired if it were a slight bit chilly, but it’s blazing hot. He cuts it short, dashing back home and immediately serving himself a glass of cold water. 

“You’re up early.”

The brown eyed boy jumps in sudden surprise. Standing in a pastel yellow sleeping gown, you grin brightly. Long lashes lay flat, nose pinching rosy pink, and breath minty. “Yeah, my folks sort of woke me up. Couldn’t fall back asleep.”

“Oh.” You pout. “They left already?”

“You knew?”

“Yup. They mentioned it last night before bed.” A beat. “I hope me staying here isn’t making you uncomfortable…it’s just that they offered, and—”

“It’s not.” Lie. “Make yourself at home.”

Not much is seen or heard from him for the majority of the day; occasional glaces coming here and there. They put you in an uncomfortable spot yesterday—you had been working on the garden for a year now, damn it—but their son's demeanor took you by surprise. The pictures and stories were something you relied on as the only source of getting to know him: polite, tall, and swanky—boyish.

That was so far from the truth. Oscar Piastri has grown into his body; almost appearing to be a handsome giant. Despite his warm face, his attitude is a bit snarky. He has no problem in saying what’s on his mind. And he is most definitely not a boy. 

He’s a man.

“What do you say?” 

“Sorry?” 

He chuckles, Adam's Apple dancing up and down. “Would you like to join me for dinner?”

It wasn't his intention to try and get close to you—not purposefully, at least—but he thought; why not? Who knows when his parents are coming back, when his sisters would, and he wanted to prove to you that he wasn’t some snotty guy. Summer is summer, after all. A friend to spend it with sounds quite nice.

Pursing your red lips, you nod, setting your book aside. The dinner table is already set up. Chicken and rice. That’s it. Given, it looks and smells amazing, but plain. You quirk a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to eat your greens? To drive quicker?” He burns up at you teasing tone.

“I didn’t want to risk burning the house down. We’re lucky I was able to get even this done.”

“Very well.” The refrigerator opens, colorful veggies staring back at him. You grin, slow and easy. “I’ll take care of it. It’s only fair, roomie.”

-

Oscar left home a few years ago, migrating to the United Kingdom for work, so it had been a while since he had stepped foot in his backyard. He faintly remembers his pirate treehouse, his sisters’ Barbie’s cluttered inside. It was a bone-chilling sight for baby Oscar back then, but now, the paint is chipping off, the wood looks a lot weaker. It’s a nostalgic feeling.

The new additions are stunning. A bunch of healthy flowers beam back at him and he swallows when he realizes he can’t name a single one. Waxflowers, Calamint, Dahlias, Peonies, Carnations, California Poppies. One by one, he admires with an open mouth. “They’re beautiful.” He turns to you with a proud smile. “You’ve done an excellent job.”

Pink feathers onto your already blushed cheeks, biting back a cheesy grin. You had decided to eat out on the bench, choosing to enjoy the now fresh air. Still humid, but less than before. The scent of coconut sunscreen makes his whiff constantly. “So…Costa Rica?”

He winces. It was too soon to talk about the situation, but something in your calm voice makes it easier to spit it out even though you probably already heard from his parents. All of a sudden, your savory carrots taste like complete shit. “T’was supposed to go with my girlf—my ex. My ex-girlfriend.” 

You pout, sorrowfully. “Oh, I’m sorry, Oscar. I didn’t mean to…I had no clue.” And it’s genuine. Guess his parents weren’t complete traitors. 

“Tell me—how long have you been working on fixing the garden?”

“Since last summer,” you hum, chewing down on a piece of grilled chicken. “This is the first time I have actually stayed here, though. Your parents are sweet. As soon as they heard that you were coming back home, they insisted I kept you company.”

Sharp jaw clenches and he scoffs. You simply blink back innocently. Then, he notices it. The way it reflects against the yellow ray of the now setting sun. He knows what it is, so he doesn’t ask. Too busy staring off into the distance, you place your plate down. “Let me show you a few other things I’ve been working on.”

There’s row and row, further into the open area; every twist and turn makes his brows raise up higher, impressed by the noticeable updates. Coming to a halt, he spins his head around, brown locks hitting his temples. “Since when do we have a cherry tree?”

You beam, orbs shining with excitement. “Since last summer!” you repeat, cheerfully. You pick one, handing it for him to try. An embarrassing moan erupts once the sweet nectar slides down his throat. “Good?”

“Bloody amazing.” Every compliment makes you squeal with delight. “My mum is actually allergic to cherries, so how…”

“She was actually the one who brought it up. Said she knew how much I loved them, and that I deserved a little something for flourishing her garden. I couldn’t deny the chance to do so.” You bite down on your lip, sheepishly. “They are my favorite.”

Reaching for one makes him look away as soon as your dress rises up, soft legs poking through. Bare feet press against the wet grass as you tippy toe. He mustered a fake cough, but as soon as you bite down onto the bloody fruit, he clicks into a trance. 

Plump lips; thick and juicy. Long lashes fluttering shut against your glossy cheeks. That could have been because of the summer heat, but it affected him just the same. The familiar sensation of attraction rushes to his cock as he stands stiffly—but also loosely. He was loose. So fucking loose.

Something hits his cheekbones and it rips him away from his drooling. A singular seed now lays by his feet; indicating what you had done. A crinkled, wobbly smile shines back at him, hands nervously flattening your dress back down. The Australian jokingly lunges towards you as you squeal, backing away. 

“You were disintegrating! I had to get your attention one way or another!”

Oh, you definitely got his attention. Giving you one final scowl, he stops his steps. “Everything—all of it—it’s great. Thank you.” The wind picks up and you shiver. “...for doing this for my parents.”

Neat hair flies against the breeze, covering your eyes for a minute. Pushing it aside, you scrunch your nose faintly. “Anytime.”

-

Technically, what you’re getting paid for was to watch over the beloved yard; that’s all. But you offer to do more. Mow the lawn? Paint the chipped wall? Wash the windows?

“God no, darling,” Oscar’s mum laughs through the end of the line. “You are doing enough already. Please. Relax.”

But you can’t. Nibbling on your thumb, you brush the counter, strolling past countless family portraits. A smile slips when you spot a toothless Oscar. “I insist.”

So, here you are; decluttering the attic. After a bit of bickering with Nicole, she eventually gives in and asks for a favor. Clean and tidy the small room. Easy peasy. 

“Ouch,” you hiss when a nail digs through your skin, gore immediately pouring out of you like a waterfall; you squeak. Just then, a certain brunette peeks their head through the entrance.

“Oh good, it’s you. I thought we had an intruder.”

Raising a skeptical brow at him and the thin duvet, you quickly take it from him, pressing it down to ease the bleeding. “Holy crap, are you okay?” In one motion, he steps closer to you, analyzing the injury with worried eyes. You groan.

“It’s only a little cut. No biggie.” But the way your face is slowly losing color lets him know that your words aren't true. Brown eyes flicker, searching for a spot to sit, but everything about this is crowded. You were just about to start tidying; the mess was still there. Crouching onto a tiny stool, he takes a seat, somehow still towering over you. Or at least that's what it felt like, because suddenly, you felt suffocated. 

His long legs are spread as you stand between them, hand out towards him as he winces at the brutal cut. “Ah—that’s pretty deep.” He gags when he notices the underneath flesh. You suppress a giggle. “We should go to the ER.” 

You scoff, ripping away from his grip, tripping over a box. Regaining your balance, you drape the cloth over your hand once again. “That won’t be necessary. I’ll be right back.”

After rinsing your hand with alcohol, covering the wound with the largest bandaid to ever exist, and balling your eyes out, you make your way back up. The Australian is drenched in sweat, huffing and puffing. “Got it,” he pants. Confused, you tilt your head to the side, but that’s when you pick out the nail in the palm of his hand. You blink, too bewildered to make sense of how he retrieved it without the help of a hammer. “I also found lots of old trophies. Extremely bittersweet.”

“Why’s that?” you hum, kneeling down next to him, reading through the labels. Each makes you more and more dazzled. 

A minute passes by. “Because I grew up.”

“That’s…sad.” Shrugging, he digs for more. He laughs loudly, throwing his head back. “Dear G—I forgot this even existed!”

Oscar’s 81 Things To-Do During the Summer [List]

Learn how to bike.

Learn the Australian National Anthem (Sophie will be beautifully impressed)

Get better at being more outgoing (Mum is worried)

So on and so forth. “You were an extremely creative lad. Eighty-one things to do…eh.” A tongue click. “Possibly buy a pet dragon?”

He cringes. “Not all were realistic. I actually never really got around to it. Mainly added, if anything.” 

Crimson red flashes. “I, um, I could tell.”

69. Oscar Piastri, you know what I mean.

The brunette chokes on his saliva, yanking it away as fast as he can. Standing up to his full height, he rolls up the piece of paper and points towards the exit. “I think I should, um…yeah. See ya.”

“Yeah.” He dashes off. “See you…”

-

Eighteen-year old Oscar was a horny bastard. But every guy that age is, so it’s not really fair to feel bad about his list. The writing is obviously his, but the things jotted down made him almost feel like it wasn’t. Blowjobs? Hand jobs? What was he thinking?

And then, there was you—a curious cat. He had to be a virgin; he just had to. Why else would he be embarrassed? You weren’t one to judge, though. You knew nothing about the sexual world, having never partaken. The thin band wrapped around your ring finger is enough proof. 

And no—you weren’t married.

It would have been absolutely diabolical to mention sex in your household growing up. Being Roman Catholics is no joke, believing religiously to wait until marriage. You never had a problem with that; you would wait. Doesn’t mean you didn’t know what any of the common terms meant. Sort of. 

Only now—for the first time in your life—there it was.

Temptation.

The McLaren driver was no newbie. He has had his fair share of experiences; before Lily, with Lily. He knew just about anything and everything. His good-boy act was no facade. At times he didn’t like that about himself, but it’s who he was. Obeyed the rules. Never crossed the line with anyone he wasn’t romantically linked to. And yet…

There you were.

The flowers were perfect; only needing to be watered. The cherry tree was much more…complicated. The chances of animals recklessly hunting for the sweet fruit was high, the chances of the red drupes rotting also was. Therefore, you spent most of your time there. 

Maybe you were avoiding him; you told yourself you were already horrified at the dirty thoughts taking over like the plague. And perhaps he was doing the same; he had only been locked in his room for the past three hours. 

Golden hour. With your hands on your hips, you squint, admire the polished drupes, tickling with water. Walking back to the bench, you lay down, picking up on your reading, occasionally taking sips from your Cherry Cola. 

Pacing the small bedroom, Oscar mutters to himself. Maybe she didn’t read all of it. Maybe she doesn't know what it means. Yeah—he was exaggerating. Clicking his window open, he gasped for needed air. As soon as he spots you reading, he grunts. 

White skirt brushes down your smooth legs, challenging the sun to see who shines the brightest. Lips wrap around the glass bottle, puckering in the slightest. And he wonders; would you taste as sweet as the cool beverage?

He’s a grown man; an adult. There’s no need to be uncomfortable. Sex was a part of everyone's day to day life. He was the one making it a bigger deal than it actually was. Still, he slips on a pair of sunglasses, perched perfectly onto the bridge of his nose. 

“Is it any good?”

His voice makes you flinch, dropping the book flat on your face. A tiny groan rings through the air. Flashing him a weak smile, you sit up straight, fixing your clothes. “Want one? There’s plenty in the fridge.”

He had noticed, of course he had. Never in a million years did he think he'd see his refrigerator stocked up with the sweet drink. He never cared enough to ask who they belonged to; figured they would just expire.

Wavy hair swings back and forth when he shakes his head. “Gotta keep in shape.” I see, you murmur, loopy eyes peeking over at him, taking another gulp. The sizzling feeling is utterly childish compared to what he’s making you feel. The burning sensation between your legs is annoying and painful, you almost want to plead for help. “I meant the book, by the way.”

“No!” You laugh, nervously. “I mean…it’s alright?”

After he stormed off and left you a breathless puddle, you biked and biked—until you hit the local bookstore. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, simply browsing, but as soon as you reached the section of Erotic Literature, you stopped. 

So many—many—wrong choices. Still, humiliated, you paid and fiercely ran out. Maybe this was some sort of punishment for reading what you’re reading; had to be. And Oscar asking questions wasn’t helping. Licking your berry lips, you swallow a thick layer. “What have you been up to?”

Fuck, he moans, large hand sliding up and down his cock; more and more pleasure intensifying. Your tiny dresses. Your short skirts. Your angelic face. The way your lips would separate before every sentence. Your sweet scent that would have normally given him a headache, but instead made him chase after you like a dog. 

Finishing all over his thighs, he shudders. White liquid never looked more sinister than at this very moment. After changing, he paces the room with regret. 

Pushing the frames further into his face, he hums. “Oh, you know. Just… cleaning up my room.”

-

It’s been a week in a half now and you’re happy to announce that you have fallen into a routine. While Oscar did his daily workout, you would make breakfast. While you worked on the garden, he cooked dinner. Though, he was unbeknownst over the way you would drool over him when he would walk out the door; a compressed shirt hugging his built body tightly, arms begging to be kissed. You were unaware of the way he would rub his face in desperation when you walked out, banging his head purposefully against the cabinet; the way you would skip out with your book and infamous drink, or how you would prettily tie up your hair before you even got started.

It was a mess.

A mocking mess.

This afternoon though, you aren’t flying out the door to the yard, but rather frolicking over to Ms. Alleck, ready to assist. I try my best, but they always wilt! Could it be the humidity? Laughing, you toss your hair up into a bun, messy strands poking out as you cock your head to the side. “Could be, but don’t you worry. We’ll find a way to make it work. Promise.”

He had always known you were kind, gentle, soft spoken…pure. And you doing this only added to his attraction. It’s salad, spaghetti, and salmon that afternoon. Sweaty, you pant. I’m going to squeeze in a shower real quick. But you weren’t sweaty, like you believe; you were glistening. 

“This is so cute,” you chirp, sitting cross cross in the old treehouse. A few spider webs make your blood run cold, but he quickly took care of it, apologizing. The brunette blushes. 

“I wanted to use it one last time. Before we get rid of it.” Neat brows furrow. “It’s just that it’s old—only a matter of time before it plunges down.” “What?” 

“O-obviously not now!”

After a bit more convincing, you finally relax and enjoy the way the crickets sing against the night. Small feet press against the wall, white tube socks turning slightly brown from the lack of sweeping. For a moment, he shuts his lids, breaths shallow, body loose. The high temperature almost made him feel as if he was cuddling into the warmest blanket; it felt nice. 

Whoops, you mumble when hollow glass pounds against the wooden floor. He perks up at the sound, brown eyes burning with high alert. “You do shit on purpose?” he screeches when he detects scarlet blood. Wincing in pain, you curl your hand towards the hem of your dress. 

“Help me,” you plead, slight annoyance written all over your face. He must’ve broken the world record of running into the house to retreat the first aid kit, and running right back to you. The way he sanitizes the skin, to the way he wraps your hand with a gauze pad, is honestly hilarious.

“What so funny?” he murmurs, attention never leaving the wound. 

“Mmm. Nothing.” He snickers and you giggle harder. “It just seems as if I’m making you a professional. You ought to be ready if anyone else needs your help to treat injuries.”

“Oh, of course. I’ll tell them a certain klutz made me learn from day to night with all her clumsiness.” His voice drops, laced with concern. “Seriously though—you were just healing. You have to be careful.”

Plump lips part with the sound of his delicate voice, accent almost disappearing. Wandering eyes admire the way his brows are knitted together and orbs soften. Swallowing, you nod. “I will.”

“Good.”

The once vibrant room is now hazy and suffocating. Does he not know what kind of effect he has on you? The type of power he holds? Oscar doesn’t seem to, though, with the way he chugs down his entire glass of water. Stuck in a trance, your hand briskly reaches out for your own drink. He roars with laughter, clutching his stomach. “You just broke your bottle, you don’t have a drink anymore.” He picked up the Cherry Cola you had offered, but he had declined. “Take mine.”

You don’t put up a fight, simply allow him to open and give it to you. The sweet drink doesn’t do a great job at hydrating your foaming mouth, but it helps as a distraction. On the other hand, the brunette can’t seem to not watch the ways your lips suck in and out, eagerly. As if this were the only source of air. He shudders. 

“We should probably head down…”

Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you comply, already standing up. From the floor, he has a good view of your legs; long, soft, sweetly scented. He wonders if you use honey as lotion because that would explain his urge to nuzzle his face against them. Picking up the broken glass and plates, you turn back. “Coming?”

A sigh rings through the air once, and suddenly—he’s cradling your face with high intensity and lust, molding his lips against yours. Tomato sauce stains his shirt and your dress from the plates that still remain between you two. One second, you're wide eyed, and then the next, you're allowing yourself to kiss him back. 

You want to cry with how pleasant the feeling feels and he wants to scream with how much he wants to fuck you. But alas, one of you pulls away first—you can’t really tell who— and you’re both left gasping for air. Completely winded and fucked.

You both are fucked.

-

The treehouse comes crashing down the day after your first kiss. Yes, first kiss. You would like to blame him and say that he stole it from you, but the arousal that was dripping between your thighs last night was a clear indication that you could never actually say so because you liked it so much. 

The wooden house tearing down is something you take as a sign; you’ve sinned. Okay, maybe that was a bit too dramatic, but you were honestly thinking about it. That night you dreamt of the wildest things imaginable; his pretty face in between your legs, large hands squeezing your perky breasts, fingers swirling inside your velvety walls, cock tearing you in half.

It was unacceptable. 

So, while Oscar worked on picking up the tiles with a hometown buddy, you marched right over to beg for forgiveness. Kneeling down against the cushion, you say a silent prayer. 

I don’t want to think like this—not when I know I can help it, but God this is getting way too out of hand. And you know I’m not like this, you know that! But he just—AGH. Maybe it’s his personality that makes him so attractive, or maybe it’s his sudden growth spurt, but please let me get a hold of myself. He’s just a friend, he’s just a friend—HE’S JUST A FRIEND. 

“Would you mind keeping your words to yourself, sweetheart?” an older lady whispers, two rows ahead of you. 

Pink feathers onto your cheeks. “Oh, yes, of course! I’m so sorry…”

I don’t ever ask for much, no, that’s never been necessary, but I am now. So please. Hear me when I say: Push this desire I have, far, far, far away.

-

If you were to say, there was a ninety percent chance that you would walk away. Not even spare him a passing glance. He would call you out on it later, but whatever—too late. Ignored you, you say? No, really I did? I had no idea, I’ll make sure to not let it happen again!

If Oscar were to say, there was a ninety-nine percent chance that he would let you walk away. He didn’t need your company; he was doing just fine. But then again, that one percent tugs at him like the devil on his shoulder.

“Hey. You’re back.” Cool. Calm. Collected.

“Oh! I suppose I am.” Cool. Utter. Mess.

He grins, eyes crinkling like the leaves that hang upon the crimson tree. Signaling up, he cocks his head in deep thought. “Just finished. Cole said his uncle could shred…” A pause. “He owns a massive wood chipper.” 

Blinking like a deer in headlights, you chew on your bottom lip, simply nodding along. “Sounds good? I think. No. Yes. Very good.” You wince at all the uncontrolled mumbo-jumbo. “I’m sorry I was no help, too. I had to…talk to the man up above.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. That must be why your pretty little knees are bruised.” 

Your breath comes to a harsh halt, ears burning like a wildfire. The Australian just keeps his brown eyes set on the tree for a second longer before turning to face you. Quickly, you relax your muscles. “You could make up for it by helping me with something else.”

You gulp. Suddenly, your mouth is overflowing with hot saliva. “With what?”

Dark orbs glue onto your delicate figure, a slight smirk playing out. And it looks so unfamiliar, not his own, that you create a distance. And just like that, it’s gone. Vanished just as fast as it slipped onto his pink lips. “Get on.” He crouches down and your jaw drops.

“Wha—like onto your shoulders?” Rolling his eyes in a goofy manner, he nods, picks you up safely, and places you on top. You screech, dizzy by the sudden altitude. “Put me down!”

“You’re fine. Just help me reach those. Been craving them all day,” he murmurs, voice raspy. The twenty-three year old is still slightly sweaty from his hard labor, and that’s clear when you cling onto his brown locks. Other than that, you’re as high as a kite; both figuratively and literally. 

You’ve known—seen—how tall and broad the Australian was, but being perched onto his wide shoulders was a sweet confirmation you couldn’t help but enjoy. “Move a bit forward.” He follows instructions, wide hands gripping onto your thighs to keep you steady. You giggle when a few fruits hit your face. “Watch it—and don’t you dare drop me.”

“Get,” he commands.

About three minutes pass by. You rip the cherries carefully, candy aroma filling the air, and plop them onto the basket. By all accounts, you’re well aware of your actions. The basket was full, now overflowing, really, and you could plant your ballet flats back onto the tall grass—but you don’t.

There’s something about feeling his touch; high electricity, shock waves nipping at your skin, soft pants. It’s pathetic how much you crave any ounce of physical touch he’s willing to give you, unknowingly.

“That should be good,” you whisper, meekly. He doesn’t respond, just swings you down as you let out a yelp. All of a sudden, you’re magically magnetic. And he wonders; if only. You hand the basket over, waiting nervously for him to thank you, at least. 

“Thank you,” he feels himself saying. “What do you say we play a little game? No prize. Only bragging rights.”

“O-okay.”

A singular cherry is handed over. He grins. Can you tie a knot using your tongue? “Wait—are you being serious?”

The red fruit dissolves inside his mouth, spitting the seed somewhere far enough away. Then, the stem flips into his mouth. “Come on. I’ll give you a head start.”

With wary hands, you rip the stem away from your own drupe, fitting the thin stick into your suddenly dry mouth. He stares intently, clenching his jaw, “Go on. Ten seconds.” Quickly, your lips start to move, twisting and turning. Pouting, then sucking back in. Your low breaths become heavy after a few tries. You think you’re getting it done right, the sudden ball forming is enough for you to guess that you must be doing something correct. 

The sound of his low mewls is what ends you. Doe eyes flicker up to face him, paying close attention to how his brown eyes wander up at the sky in concentration, occasionally squinting due to the bright sun. You can feel a thin layer of sweat hug you like a blanket as your movements slow down; a snail's pace compared to before.

For good measure, you fake your twists as you continue to simply admire. Too far gone, you blink hastily when he sticks his pink tongue out towards you, a stinking knot sitting nicely atop.

“I won.”

Gulp. “You sure did. Good job, Oscar.”

Long lashes flutter shut momentarily, head tossed back, sighing. “It wasn’t a fair fight. You weren’t doing anything. Other than staring at my lips.”

Flustered, you dig your hand into the bucket. “That’s not true! At all. At all, at all.” You munch harder, splitting a seed in half. You spit it out sourly. “You're just better at using your mouth than I am.”

It goes straight to his cock, your words. Opening his eyes, the brunette scrunches his nose. You’re avoiding his gaze. You’re good at doing that. A pro. But it leaves him to wonder some more. And that itself was dangerous when it dawned on him. 

He doesn’t like daydreaming anymore.

“Fuck it,” he grunts, kissing you harshly, like the night before. And you thought that blew your mind, but this? This left you gasping and reaching out for him even though he was pressed right against you. You could feel him buzzing, pinching your hips against his large hands. It’s perfect.

You don’t really understand how you end up straddling him on the grass, green straining your knees as you grind harder onto him, forcing your skin to burn with each stroke. This—this—must be as good as it gets. There can’t be more, but you weren’t complaining. It was enough. 

When his fingers dance underneath your dress, you halt, and everything comes crashing down. “No,” you pant. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Why is that, baby?” he mumbles, lost on sucking the side of your neck. Looking up, his straight brows drew in together with concern. “What is it?”

“It’s just that…I’m—” Why is it so hard to admit? Brushing a strand of hair away, you purse your lips. “I’m a virgin, Oscar. It’s odd, I know, but I can’t sleep with you.”

“You think I didn’t know that?’

You freeze. “What?”

His thumbs circle your thighs, gently, swooning with how soft you feel. “I figured you were. Your purity ring sort of gave it away.” You blush hard, rolling off of him, playing with the thin band. 

“I wish I could do this—God, I really want to—but I can’t.”

Respecting your decision, he pats your hand with reassurance. The hot feeling remained between your legs and the pain between his. This was torture, you both know that, but what was there to do? It’s awkward for a while, that is, until he starts asking you about things that shouldn’t make you glow with happiness.

How was your day? I want to hear all about it. Do you think it’s bad to eat an entire bucket of drupes? Must be, right? In the long run? Hey, would you mind teaching me how to garden? You make it look intriguing. 

That seems to do it for you. Everything you ever promised flies out the window as you climb back onto his thick lap, and this time, he’s surprised by your actions. Clumsy fingers try their best to unzip his pants, but he only stutters against your kisses. N-no, we don’t have to rush anything. I, you, we—

“Shit, o-okay,” he sighs when you finally touch him, even in the slightest. He may be touch deprived, but so were you, so how far would any of this go? Flipping you over to lay against the tall grass, he winks teasingly and that effectively makes your heartbeat quicken. “Relax, sweetheart. Do that for me, yeah? Can you?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” 

The McLaren drivers press a kiss on the inside of your thighs before licking them. You shiver, though try your best to even your breaths. You shut your eyes, maybe if you act hard enough, you could somehow convince yourself that this wasn’t a war itself. To see how long you’d last. No—you would last. You had to.

“I’ve thought about it.” He slips your panties down, inch by inch. “A lot, as of lately. If you would taste just as sweet as I imagined. As sweet as those Cherry Cola’s you're overly obsessed with.” And he dives in, licking your arousal clean as you pant, chest heaving up and down like an erupting volcano. 

What were you supposed to feel—relaxed? In a frenzy? Most likely the latter because considering the way he was making your head spin said it all. The sounds he’s making forces you to involuntarily shut your legs around his face and his hand that now lies between you two. The stretch is a burning sensation that leaves you both gasping and moaning; it’s too much, but not enough.

More. Grinning up from in between your legs, he shakes his head full of curls, all thanks to the Aussie weather, and your dirty foreplay. “Does it feel good?” You whimper. “Good—good, baby. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” Velvet walls clench around his long digits. “Hey, hey, look at me.”

Once your soft orbs connect to his intoxicating ones, his cock grows harder. ���Okay, listen, it’s going to hurt a little bit, okay? But that’s completely normal; it’s like a…a stingy feeling. Do you understand?” I do, you pant. He grits his teeth when his calloused fingers brush against your g-spot and your head lolls back, exposing your sharp clavicle. He itches to mark you all over. “Do you want it, then?”

A zing. “Fuck, Oscar. I fucking want you.”

The brown eyed boy is all over you, kissing you up and down, gripping you tighter. It was an addiction in its truest form. For a split second, you frown when he slips out of you, but as soon as he starts unzipping his pants, you feverishly lick your lips. 

It dawns on you that you aren’t scared, nervous, or anything; you’re bubbling with excitement. You watch carefully as he jerks himself off a bit, his already large girth growing bigger. How is that possible? “I’ll start with the tip.” Leaning down, he pecks your pouty lips and you smile. “Let me know if it’s too much, we’ll stop and take a break. Or do anything, really,” he adds, cheekbones flushing red. 

“I’ll be okay,” you whisper. “I swear.”

You were being skinned alive, it was excruciating pain. You know he notices it when he starts brushing your hips, hoping to comfort you in some sort of way. Heavy breaths, numb lips from biting too hard, exposed breasts arching straight for him. He didn’t know whether to enjoy this or worry. 

“Breathe, darling, breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth. There you go,” he congratulates, admiring your shaky breath. “You’re doing so good.”

“Osc, move…please.”

There was no more confirmation necessary that you were ready to go. His hips find motion, thrusting into you slowly. Nails scratch down his back as you moan loudly, almost yelping. “Y-you’re so big.” So, so, so, so big.  “So good.”

Nearly animalistic, he releases a grunt, pounding deeper into you, getting lost with the way you hug him tightly. You mewl, pressing your naked chest against his, and he nearly slips from his hands being set on top of the cold grass, but it was beautiful torture, all at once. 

From the way you tremble, to the way you look up at him, he loves it all. He realized it been too long, he’s missed this, he’s missed having a body undeaneath his, as fucked up as that sounds. 

And he—he must be a saint, himself. There’s a sort of invisible halo that lightens up around him, nearly blinding you. There’s a gut-wrenching stare he’s gifting you, making your stomach churn with pleasure. 

Wrapping his mouth around your sore buds, you let out a shaky sigh. Skillful tongue swirls the way one would suck on a lollipop; the heat intensifies. “Close?” But you’re not sure, you just know it feels good—ridiculously good. He must have known so, and must want to make your first experience the best you’ll ever have, because suddenly, you’re on all fours. 

As he slips in and out with such ease, you grip harshly at the tall grass. You can hear the sad rips with every thrust and every tug, but how can you feel bad when he feels so good? His cock rapidly brushes the magic spot, and you’re left seeing stars. “Oh God. I feel it, Oscar, fuck, fuck, fuck—”

“Tell me. Describe it.”

Your jaw locks, and your arms give up, flying down towards the grass, round ass high up in the air as he continues his movements. He groans at the sight, slapping your sweaty skin. Whining, you look back at him, grinning from ear to ear. The Australian looks up at the open sky, trying his best to push back the feeling of his upcoming orgasm, but it's hard to ignore the fact that an absolute angel takes him like no other.

And an Angel you were.

“Can feel your cock, Oscar. The way it pulses—so thick, so veiny, so sweet.”

An Angel with a vocabulary of Heathen.

“God, fuck me harder, please, Oscar, please.” He’s pretty sure you’re half-gone, half-present, but it only adds to the lust he carries for you. Just then, you feel the fresh cherry pressed up against your lips. Open, he demands and you follow straight away, ripping it from its stem. You nearly choke on the seed when he suddenly speeds up, limbs and arms burning from holding upright. For a moment, you stare back with an open mouth, admiring over the way his abs contract with every brutal push.

“Now spit.” Two seeds fly out towards the grass, laying there to taunt you as you pick up on your moans, ringing through the air. If you squint hard enough, you can spot the stars that mock the daylight sky. It doesn’t make sense, but then again, none of this does. “So pretty, sweetheart.” You swoon, feeling his arms hold you down. “Again—open.”

You’re expecting another set of cherries, thinking this might be some sort of prize, but as soon as you feel the familiar stick, you pout. No, you cry out. He chuckles. “Yes.” A pause. “You only get to come until you tie a knot.”

“You’re not being f-fair, holy shit.” Long fingers rub slowly against your puffy clit, throbbing with pain, begging to come all of his numbing girth. You clench your jaw, eyes screwed shut.

“We don’t have all night, go on. Move that pretty little mouth of yours.”

It’s a mission, it’s a task, it’s a fucking wreck. It’s impossible. You’re not that surprised, though, not when he thrusts into with twice as much force, triple speed; what a man. Loose tongue swirls at a weak attempt, but then he pinches your swollen bud, and you’re back to square one. You’re nearly there, excited to prove to him how much you wanted this and how you were able to multitask, but then he’s pulling all the way back, only his rosy tip awaiting by your entrance, and he’s coming back down, full-throttle. 

It was cruel.

But two can play that game, you suppose.

You pull away quickly, he blinks, and then you’re pushing him back, sprawled on the grass. He nearly whines from missing your warm cunt, but as soon as you climb to sit on his face, he grows more and more turned on. “Go on,” you push. “Use that pretty little tongue of yours.”

Dark eyes stare up at you, enjoying the way your body moves, hips rolling, riding his face at an impressive rate. The white nectar you're willing to spill out makes him lap at an embarrassing speed, desperate to taste the sweetness. 

Meanwhile, you’re gripping his hair, trying to feign indifference with the way his nose rubs against your lips, the way he keeps you in place with his watch covered hand, the other playing with your clit. It’s even, this is fair, but you still needed to reach your end. 

“I’m close,” you moan, head rolling back, but jaw continuing to tick. He hums and the vibrations cause you to squeeze your legs around his face. That seems to make him enjoy this far more. Unless you show me you’ve done it, then no, you’re not coming anytime soon. Your molars grind harder, white spots forming throughout your vision. “Shut up, just—fucking stop talking.”

“What do y’know? Miss Perfection has a potty mouth.” He pokes his tongue against your hole. “Dirty girl, eh?”

With one final suck, and one soft moan, you cum all over him. The Australian is quick to lick you clean, groaning pathetically deep. Gasping, you fall from your climax, slightly twitching with sensibility as he hauls you onto his lap. You giggle when he raises a teasing brow. 

“You got away with it—this time.”

“There’s going to be a second time?”

He stiffens, trying to play it cool. “Well, not anymore, you didn’t do what I asked for you to do—”

Opening your mouth, you stick your red tongue out, displaying the most perfect knot. He gapes, sticking his fingers in to retrieve it. “H-how?” A beat, sharp and accusing eyes. “Seriously, how?”

“Does it matter?” you ask, wide eyes back on for show. “I did it.”

“I…yeah, yeah you did,” he repeats in disbelief. He laughs. “You’re wickedly talented. That's an art.”

“Thanks,” you mumble, slowly, mixed with a giggle. “I tried my best for you.”

“I see that.” The brown eyed boy pinches your hip. “How was it?”

Sighing dreamily, as if napping on a cloud, your eyes twinkle. “I get it now. Why people have casual sex, I mean. It was amazing. Thank you.”

Casual, casual, casual, yes. Of course this was casual, why wouldn’t it be casual? He’s not looking to have anyone new in his life, and you’re barely understanding what any of this is, so yeah. Casual. 

“Was I bad?” you ponder, chewing on your bottom lip. “I know I’m no professional, but I—”

“You were perfect,” he reassures with a soft smile. “Best thing to come around, solemnly swear.” Swatting his arm, he snickers, catching your hand. You purse your lips. “I was right,” he murmurs when his lips graze over your own. You open your mouth, waiting for more.

“About?”

“You tasting as sweet as a Cherry Cola.” Then he connects your lips, and you’re left utterly smitten. You can hardly feel him slip your ring off, but you know so when your finger feels empty since the moment you first put it on. “Guess you won’t be needing this anymore?”

“Guess not, no. Keep it.”

“Could take it to a Pawn Shop, sell it for a couple dollars…”

“Hey! Be nice, you dimwit,” you warn. “You should feel special. Stupidly special.”

“I’m kidding. I’ll cherish it.”

“Creep.”

He groans, slapping your ass as you squeal. “There’s no right or wrong answer, it seems like. Very well, let's just leave it at thanks. So…thank you for trusting me.” You blush, looking away. Awkwardly, you reach for your dress, slipping it over your head. He coughs, dressing himself before choking back a much needed chuckle. “Looks like we got dragged through the mud.”

“Ah, ew, I can’t. I need to shower.” 

Reaching your end of the hallway, you press your back up against the wooden door as you sheepishly giggle when Oscar does the same. “Okay then…see you around?” 

“Around town?”

“Around the house.”

“In the garden?”

“In the attic, too, maybe. It still needs a good sweep.”

He rolls his eyes. “Do we still have time?”

“Before your parents get back from Costa Rica?”

“Yes.”

“Which is in—”

“A week.”

“Which is—”

“Seven days.”

“And roughly…”

“Enough time.”

“Enough time to do what?”

He laughs, eyes crinkling suggestively, and your heart pounds hard against your ribcage. “Come here and I’ll show you.”

“Yeah,” you ponder in deep thought before your lips stretch out into a bright smile of your own. He raises dark brows as you scurry over with bruised knees, a muddy dress, and an exploding heart. “Yeah, okay. Just until they get back.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

[futurewdclandonorris]

you look good on camera, baby, let's go make a film | Lando Norris⁴

“Can you leave your camera alone for five minutes? You play with that thing too much lately.” "Would you rather I play with you instead?"

Pairings: Lando Norris x fem!reader

Warnings: smut

Word count: 9356

Songs that really inspired me: Under The Influence, I Luv This Shit (Remix), Or Nah, Zayn - Sweat

With your feet in Lando's lap, you were laying on his couch watching television, his hand mindlessly massaging your foot. The sun was beginning to set, washing the living room in a golden light, the tv buzzing in the background and your occasional laughter interrupting the silence.

Lando’s touch was soothing, his fingers expertly finding all the right pressure points on your foot, but you didn’t mind that at all. It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to spend lazy evenings like this at each other’s place, comfortable in each other's presence without the need for constant conversation.

“Are you seeing this?” you giggled, not tearing your eyes from the screen. Lando didn’t react.

That wasn’t the first time that evening that you said something and he completely ignored you. You shifted slightly, feeling a nudge of irritation prickling at your skin. Lando’s continued silence started grating on your nerves, the one-sided conversation gnawing at the edges of your patience.

“Are you even listening to me?” you nudged him with your foot, turning to face him.

“Hmm?” he hummed, giving your ankle a gentle squeeze and raising his eyebrows in your direction to let you know that he registered you this time.

You scoffed, seeing what was occupying his attention. “Can you leave your camera alone for five minutes? It’s like your third eye, I swear.”

Lando chuckled, but kept scrolling through the pictures. “Sorry. Just reviewing what we took today.”

Rolling your eyes, you propped yourself on your elbows. “You play with that thing too much lately.”

“Would you rather I play with you instead?” he raised his eyes, mischievous gleam in them, and smirked.

His fingers traveled up your calf, a heat rushing through you at his suggestive tone and touch causing a familiar swirl of butterflies in your belly. You cleared your throat and sat up properly, moving his hand away.

“Show me what you captured today,” you said, trying to steer the conversation back to normalcy. You knew that lingering in those moments would only complicate an already delicate dance happening between the two of you.

Lando's smirk widened at your reaction, his eyes shining with amusement, but leaned closer so you could see the screen better. The photographs flashed across the display – picturesque landscapes, candid shots of people in the streets, and close-ups of intricate details that caught Lando’s keen eye. You felt a sense of awe at the way he could turn the mundane into something breathtaking through his lens.

In one particular photo, a vibrant sunset painted the sky in an array of pinks and oranges, casting a warm glow over a quiet beach. The colors were so vivid, it felt like you could almost hear the waves crashing and feel the salty breeze on your skin.

Lost in the beauty of the photographs, you almost didn't notice Lando's hand inching back toward your leg, his touch light and teasing. You shot him a playful look, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite the flutter of excitement building in your chest.

"Just focus on the pictures, Lando," you said with a laugh, swatting his hand away playfully. But he only grinned, his gaze flicking between the screen and you, a silent challenge in his eyes.

The next photo caught you both by surprise. More you than him. It was an explicit photo of Lando, wearing nothing but a mischievous smile, his eyes daring and playful. You gasped, turning away in shock at the unexpected image. Lando let out a hearty laugh at your reaction, clearly finding amusement in your flustered state.

“Oh, come on, y/n, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” he teased, waggling his eyebrows suggestively as he looked at you expectantly.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment and confusion, unsure of how to respond to the intimate photograph that had appeared out of nowhere.

“Well, yeah, but that was… private,” you managed to choke out, looking anywhere except at him or the screen.

Lando's laughter filled the room, a deep rumble that made your heart race even faster. He shifted closer, his hand resting on your knee as he tried to catch your gaze.

"Don't be shy, y/n. I’m sure you have taken a few risqué photos yourself,” he whispered, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Want to see them?” you side eyed him.

“I mean, if you’re offering—”

“I was joking, you muppet!” you turned to smack him across the chest, but Lando caught your hand before it made contact. His fingers intertwined with yours, holding your gaze with an intensity that sent a jolt of electricity through you, the playful banter fading into something more charged and raw between you.

“Maybe I do have some photos,” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “But they're not for everyone to see.”

“What about a sex tape? Would you ever consider making one of those?” he asked, his voice low and eyes darkening. “I mean, since we're on the subject…” he cleared his throat.

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken implications. Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to process his words, the boundary between friendship and something more blurring with each passing second.

Lando's gaze bore into yours, searching for any hint of your true feelings. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand in a silent caress, his touch igniting a fire in your veins. You could feel the pull of attraction drawing you closer to him, tempting you to cross that line.

But as much as you wanted to explore this newfound tension, you pulled your hand out of his grasp. “I’m not sure, I don’t think I would want that.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and a bit of disappointment. “Why not? It wouldn’t be the first time we explored our boundaries.”

You paused, biting your lip as you considered his words. The thought of sharing something so intimate with him was both thrilling and terrifying. “I just don’t think I would look good, you know…”

“Are you kidding? You know you are the most beautiful person I have ever laid my eyes on.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the sincerity in his gaze stirring emotions you had long tried to suppress. The air crackled with anticipation, the weight of unspoken desires hanging between you like a heavy fog.

“I’ve taken pictures of you countless times and in each you look like a work of art,” he continued, his voice gentle caress that seeped into every pore.

“Yeah, but that was different… We were having fun… It wasn’t meant to be serious…”

“Why can’t it be serious?” Lando’s voice was soft, his eyes locked on yours with a vulnerability you had never seen before. The air in the room felt charged with emotions as he reached out to cup your cheek gently. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, awakening a longing you had buried deep within your heart.

You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitation or doubt, but all you found was unwavering sincerity and a hint of nervousness. In that moment, you realized that perhaps the unstated tension between you was mutual, a silent dance that had been playing out beneath the surface for longer than you had dared to admit.

“I… I never thought about it that way,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you leaned into his touch, your eyes fluttering close at the intimacy.

Lando’s thumb brushed against your cheek, his touch sending sparks through you as he drew closer, his gaze flicking back and forth between your eyes and lips. The room seemed to shrink around the two of you, the world outside fading into insignificance as you were lost in each other's gaze. You felt your resistance fading with each pass, as if their attraction was slowly but surely pulling you under.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “You know, y/n, I’ve always imagined watching you in a moment like this,” he whispered, his voice low and husky, “capturing your beauty on film in a way that only I can see.”

You shivered as his breath ghosted over your skin, the intensity of the moment leaving you reeling. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Lando’s eyes locked with yours, his tone growing more earnest. “Taking pictures of you, ones that only I get to see, ones that no one else gets to touch or look at without your permission.”

You gulped, your heart pounding with equal parts fear and excitement. This was a line you had never dared to cross before, and yet, Lando's words had a way of making anything seem possible.

Lando smiled softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Pictures that capture the essence of you, the real you," he said quietly. "The sides of you that you show only to me."

You bit your lip, feeling a flutter in your chest. This was an intimate proposition, one that made you feel both vulnerable and empowered. "And what would be the point of that?" you asked, curiosity getting the better of you.

Lando's gaze held yours, his expression serious yet filled with desire. "The point would be to immortalize you, to capture the essence of who you are in a way that words can never fully express. I want to show you how beautiful you are through my eyes, how every smile, every glance, every moment we share is a masterpiece waiting to be unveiled. And I want a collection of memories that belong only to me, ones that I can look back on and remember the moments that you shared with me."

Your heart raced as you considered his proposal. The idea of Lando capturing your nature in a way that only he could see was both enticing and terrifying. But the thought of being the sole muse for his art, the one person he would hold close in his heart, was a powerful draw.

"I'm not sure I can do that," you replied hesitantly, "but I can try."

Lando's eyes lit up with exhilaration, his smile growing wider. "We'll start with the simplest things, the little quirks that make you unique. Then we'll move on to more intimate moments. I promise to never push you too far or make you uncomfortable. We'll do this together."

You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. This was a new adventure and you were unsure of what lay ahead. But you were ready to take that leap with Lando by your side.

"Alright, deal," you said with a shy smile. "But promise me that you won't share these photos with anyone. They're for your eyes only."

Lando's eyes softened, his expression turning sincere. "I promise, y/n. We'll do this together, at your pace, and I'll make sure to always respect your boundaries."

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the fluttering in your chest. This was a bold move, but you trusted Lando. You knew that he would never do anything to hurt you.

"Alright," you said, feeling a sense of determination. "Let's do this."

Lando leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, tentative kiss. It was soft and sweet, his lips like clouds. The world around you faded away as you melted into him, leaving only the two of you wrapped up in each other’s arms, lost in a moment that felt like it would never end.

Lando pulled back and his eyes locked with yours. His fingers curled around the hem of your shirt and with a silent permission he pulled it over your head, revealing the vulnerable beauty beneath. Your skin tingled as his gaze traced every inch of you, his camera forgotten as he captured each moment with his eyes. The room seemed to hum with a quiet intensity as he leaned in to press kisses along your collarbone, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path.

You felt the weight of his wishes pressing against you, a silent plea for more as he whispered words of adoration against your skin. Your doubts and fears melted away in the heat of the moment, leaving only raw passion and longing behind.

As Lando's hands roamed over your body, every touch electric and searing, you realized that this was where you were meant to be. In his arms, exposed and vulnerable yet safe and cherished in a way you had never known before.

The room was filled with the sound of the camera shutter, immortalizing the intimate moments between you, and you surrendered yourself completely to the unknown, knowing Lando is there to guide you. You felt naked under his gaze, as if his lens had stripped away every layer of your clothing and left you uncovered to his unbridled desire. 

Your breath caught in your throat as Lando's hand grazed your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. The light from the camera flickered across your face, casting shadows and highlighting the contours of your features. It was surreal, to feel like you were being transformed into a work of art, a masterpiece crafted with love and longing.

He kissed your chest and you reached for his shirt, unfurling the fabric to reveal the body that had been hiding beneath. Lando's muscles rippled as he stretched, hinting at a strength that belied his gentle demeanor. The sight stole your breath, your heart beating faster with each passing moment.

The air grew thick with anticipation, the scent of his skin mingling with the heady emotions that filled the room. You felt yourself being pulled into a world where art and desire intertwined, and knew that the line between reality and fantasy had blurred.

With a deep breath, you met Lando's eyes, trusting him as you had never trusted anyone before. He smiled softly, his gaze filled with warmth and understanding. He held a side of your face, kissing your lips gently, his touch feather-light and tender. You felt a wave of affection wash over you, and you knew that this moment was more than just a passing fancy. This was for real, and you were ready to embrace it.

"I'm ready," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, your eyes locked with his as you gave him permission to continue.

Lando's lips found their way to your neck, his tongue tracing the delicate curve of your collarbone, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin just beneath your ear. You felt a shiver of desire course through your body, and you knew that this was what you had been waiting for.

"You're mine, you know that?" he murmured, his voice low and throaty, his breath hot against your skin. "You're my muse, my inspiration…”

He guided you to lay on the couch as he spoke, your bare skin glistening in the soft light that filtered through the curtains. Lando's eyes never left your face as he positioned you, adjusting the pillows behind your back to make you comfortable.

He moved to the other side of the room, the camera in his hands. You could see the longing in his eyes, the want to capture every inch of you in his lens. He looked at you again, his gaze lingering on your lips, your eyes, the curve of your neck.

Taking a deep breath, he began to capture you. The first shot was of your face, your eyes wide with anticipation, your lips parted in a gentle smile. The second was of your neck, the delicate arc of your throat revealed, your skin glowing in the orange light. The third was of your chest, your breasts rising and falling with each breath, your skin flushed with craving.

“Perfect,” he whispered and lowered the camera.

He was on top of you now, straddling you, but careful not to put all his weight on you. He used his body to block out the rest of the world, leaving only the two of you in this intimate moment. He leaned down, kissing your lips softly, his tongue brushing against your bottom lip, coaxing it open. You opened your mouth, allowing his tongue to enter, exploring the depths of yours, tasting you. His hands were on your waist, his fingers tracing the curves of your hips, your waist, your sides, discovering your body, learning its contours.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in between kisses, his voice breathless.

His eyes lingered on you in a way that made you feel exposed, yet safe. He dipped his head and bit the spot where your neck and shoulder connected. You gasped, a mixture of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. Lando's lips were warm against your skin, his breath sending tremors through your body.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this," he murmured against your shoulder, taking off the strap of your bra. "You have no idea how much..."

He trailed off, his words stolen by the kiss he pressed against your lips. His hand slid up your side, his fingertips brushing the edge of your bra. You could feel your nipples hardening under the fabric, aching for his touch.

"Lando..." you called, your voice barely audible.

Lando's hand moved to your throat, his fingers gently caressing your skin as he looked up at you. "I want to see you," he said softly, "let me see you."

You nodded, unable to speak as you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He continued to bite and kiss the sensitive skin of your neck as he reached behind your back to unclasp your bra. You could feel the need building in him, the need to possess you, to claim you as his own.

Lando's fingers finally released the clasp, and your bra slipped off, leaving you exposed to his gaze. His eyes widened at the sight of your breasts, the hardened nipples standing at attention, begging for his. You could see the want in his eyes, the hunger to devour every inch of you.

He reached for his camera on the table and straightened on his knees above you. He adjusted the focus, making sure to catch every detail of your skin's smoothness, your aroused nipples, and the flush of aspiration on your cheeks.

With the camera in one hand and his free hand on your chest, he leaned in to take a close-up of your nipples, his lips brushing against your skin as he did so. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine.

As the camera shutter clicked, he moved his hand down your body, trailing his fingers over your stomach, your hips, and down to your thighs. He spread your legs slightly, giving himself a better view of you, a better angle for his camera. He took another photograph, capturing your legs spread, your hips slightly arched, inviting him in.

Then he handed the camera to you. You took it hesitantly, unsure what to do with it. Lando smiled reassuringly at you and placed his hand over yours, guiding your fingers to the shutter button.

“Would you film while I suck on your tits?”

His words made you shiver, making you both nervous and excited. You nodded, taking a deep breath and pressing the button, starting to film the moment you had been waiting for.

His hands traced the valley of your breasts, his fingers lightly brushing over your nipples, sending shivers of pleasure racing across your skin. You arched into his touch, your hips rising to meet his, your body crying out for more.

He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin, and caught one nipple in his mouth. You moaned softly, your hips bucking forward as he sucked and licked, your body arching towards him. His other hand slid down your body, his fingers tracing your hip, your thigh, your knee.

He alternated between sucking and biting, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud. You felt your body respond, your nipples hardening even more under his attention. You moaned, your hand reaching down to grip his hair, pulling him closer.

As he moved to your other nipple, his teeth grazed your skin, leaving a faint mark. You gasped, the sensation sending waves of pleasure-pain coursing through you, your core clenching in response.

His hands moved to your waist, his fingers gently digging into your skin, gripping you tightly. You could feel his passion, his need for you, the way he wanted to devour you in every way possible.

"Do you like that?" he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

You moaned softly, your hips bucking forward, your body begging for more. "Yes," you breathed out.

Lando smiled, his eyes gleaming with hunger. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groaned, his tongue darting out to lick some more.

You moaned quietly, your body quivering with each touch, each lick, each suck, each bite. He moved lower, his hands sliding down your body, his lips tracing the line of your stomach, your hips, your thighs. You could feel his breath against your skin, the anticipation building with each move.

He sat back on his knees, hands hooking on the waistband of your shorts and sliding them down your legs. He raised your left leg up and rested it on his shoulder, kissing the inside of your ankle and making his way up. Your skin was soft and warm under his touch, his lips trailing up your ankle, your calf, your knee.

You were nervous but also aroused by his touch, feeling your yearning building with each kiss and caress, each soft word whispered in your ear. You could feel his arousal, the hardness of his erection pressing against your thigh, and it sent a jolt of excitement through your body.

He gently kissed your inner thigh, his tongue dipping into the soft flesh, causing you to gasp. He pulled back once more, doing the same to your other leg. His attention was now solely on you, and the expectation was almost unbearable. You could hardly breathe as he continued to kiss and caress your legs, building the tension between you. Finally, he reached the apex of your desire, the junction where your legs met, and he dipped his head to his prize.

"Open up for me," he said softly, his eyes locked on your now damp panties.

You hesitated for a moment, feeling exposed and vulnerable, but then you nodded, spreading your legs wider for him. You could feel his breath on your skin, the warmth of his body against yours, and the prediction of what was to come.

His hands gently cupped your hips, guiding his head closer to your arousal. "I want to taste you," he said, almost reverently.

You closed your eyes and shivered, feeling his hot breath against your sensitive skin. He teased you, blowing softly, causing your hips to thrust upward, seeking his touch. He laughed softly and backed away once more.

“Not here. Come,” he said, standing up and extending a hand to help you up.

You took his hand, feeling weak in the chest from the intensity of the moment. You both walked towards the table, the camera still in your hands, documenting every step.

“Lean on the edge,” he instructed, constructing the scene and sank to his knees.

You did as he asked, your hand gripping the edge as he positioned himself between your legs. You could feel his hot breath on your thighs, making you breathe heavily.

"Move your panties to the side," he directed, his voice low and seductive. You obeyed, sliding the damp fabric aside, exposing yourself to him.

Then his tongue darted out, teasing you, licking the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. You moaned softly, your hips bucking forward, seeking more of his touch. He laughed softly, his hands gripping your thighs as he continued to tease you, his tongue tracing patterns on your skin. You felt your need building, the anticipation making you wetter, your juices trickling down the inside of your thighs.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice deep.

You nodded, unable to speak. Your entire body was screaming for his touch, for his lips, for his tongue. He leaned in, his tongue dipping into your folds, swirling around your delicate skin and licking up and down with the skill of an expert. You moaned, your body arching into his face, your hips bucking against his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned against your skin, his tongue plunging inside you.

You were lost in the moment, your body trembling with need as he tested your boundaries, exploring every inch of you. With your free hand, you reached down to grip his shoulder, pulling him closer, needing him more than ever before. His hands gripped your hips tightly, steadying you.

"You taste so good. So sweet, so wet," you could feel the heat of his breath against your pussy, the soft rustle of his hair against your thighs.

His tongue continued its tour, flicking against your sensitive flesh, his fingers gently caressing your hips. You could feel the tension building within you, the desire for him to take you over the edge.

But Lando was not in a hurry. He wanted to savor every moment, every touch, every taste. He moved his fingers to your clit, gently stroking it with the tip of his finger, causing you to arch into his touch.

“You like that?” he whispered, his voice hot.

“Y-yes,” you moaned back.

“I’m going to make you cum,”

You gasped, one hand gripping his hair, pulling him closer, wanting more, and the other holding the camera, recording every moment.

He moaned, the taste of you driving him wild. He licked and sucked gently, exploring every inch of your folds, his tongue probing deeper, his fingers gently parting you, giving himself better access to your most sensitive spots.

You moaned loudly, your hips bucking forward, your body responding to his touch, your mind lost in the pleasure of his seductive advances. You could feel your arousal building, the tension between your legs growing stronger with each touch, each lick, each suck.

He slid a finger inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit in a slow, steady rhythm. You cried out, your body arching towards him, your hips bucking as he stroked you deeper, his fingers inspecting your inner depths. Your mind was consumed with the sensations, the pleasure building to a crescendo within you.

"Yes, yes, yes," you whimpered, your fingers digging into his hair, urging him on.

He smiled around your wet folds, raising his eyes and locking them with yours and not with the camera lens. He added another finger, stretching you just enough to send you over the edge.

You cried out, your body tensing and shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you, your hips bucking wildly, your legs shaking uncontrollably. You felt like you were flying and floating and everything was blurry and burning and perfect.

He continued to lick and suck, milking every last drop of pleasure from you, his fingers moving in sync with his mouth, driving you higher and higher with each stroke.

Your orgasm subsided, leaving you panting and breathless, your body trembling with aftershocks and your hands shaking. He continued to hold you, his hand gently caressing your hip. You could feel the moisture seeping from between your legs, staining his fingers.

He pulled back, his face dripping with your juices, and looked up at you with craving in his eyes. You could see the wild animal in him, the hunger for you, the need to have you. You could hardly believe what had just happened. You had never felt such desire, such want, such pleasure before. You felt alive, you felt wild, and you felt so, so loved.

He stood up and guided your hand to the bulge in his pants, his eyes never leaving yours. He thrust forward, his pulse beating wildly against your palm. You could feel the heat of his erection through the material of his sweatpants, and the pulse between your legs again.

"Are you ready for the next part?" he asked, cupping your face and kissing you deeply.

You nodded, gasping for air as his kisses became more fervent. He helped you to stand, your legs still shaking from the aftermath of your orgasm, but you couldn't deny the excitement coursing through your veins.

“Get on your knees,” he instructed, taking the camera from you.

“No,” you said, making him raise an eyebrow.

Instead, you took him by the shoulders and swapped places with him so that he was now leaning on the edge of the table. Neither of you could take your eyes off each other as you inched closer, his erection straining against the fabric of his sweatpants.

“I want to give you a good time too,” you murmured, kissing the side of his neck, your hand trailing down his chest until you took a palmful of his cock.

His breath hitched, teeth sinking into his bottom lip and head thrown back, eyes closed. You peppered the line of his neck with kisses, dragging your tongue down the curve of his shoulders, before reaching his collarbones. Your fingers teased him, lightly stroking his length and feeling it twitch under your touch.

“Please, baby,” he growled, clutching at the edge of the table and arching his hips towards your hand. “Need you to touch me.”

You couldn’t resist his plea, your hand gripping his erection more firmly, stroking him slowly and watching as his eyes fluttered open, dark and needy. Your other hand traced the outline of his hip, skimming over the waistband of his sweats and glorying in the feel of his hardness beneath your fingers.

“Fuck, that feels good,” he breathed, eyes locked on your fingers as they moved.

You leaned closer, brushing your lips against his ear. “Do you want me to take it off?”

"Uh huh," he nodded, his breaths coming in sharp, ragged gasps.

"Words, Lando. I need you to use words," you were demanding, but gentle.

He gulped before responding, sounding breathless. “Yes, please."

You smirked against his chest and began pathing your way down with kisses. You settled on your knees, your fingers dug into the waistband of his sweats.

"Turn the camera on, you will not want to miss a moment of this,” you told him.

You pulled them down slowly, almost irritatingly so just to tease him some more. The whole time you were keeping eye contact, licking your lips and watching him squirm and take deep breaths.

Next were his boxers. You latched your teeth on the edge of the waistband and slowly, ever so slowly, pulled them down. His cock sprang out, hard and throbbing, the head glistening with pre-cum.

“Fuck, that was so hot,” he muttered, holding the camera with both hands to steady it as he watched you.

You licked your lips again, staring at his erection and the dark, pulsing head. You reached out and wrapped your fingers around it, pumping it slowly, watching as his hips bucked involuntarily.

“Was that good?” you asked, your voice low and sultry.

He groaned, his eyes never leaving your hand. “God, yes.”

"You're so hard for me," you whispered, kissing the head gently as you watched him squirm. And you knew exactly what to do to make him even harder.

You took him in your hand, your palm wrapping around his length, your fingers stroking him from base to tip. You watched as a drop of pre-cum glistened at the tip, and you used your thumb to smear it around, slicking him up. Lando moaned loudly, his head dropping back as you continued to stroke him, your hand matching the rhythm of his breaths. You reached into your mouth and began to lick and flick your tongue over the sensitive underside of his cock, his length twitching in response. 

"Mmm, so sweet," you moaned around his shaft, the taste making your saliva flow. You took him deeper into your mouth, sucking him down until the tip hit the back of your throat. He groaned, his hand grabbing your hair and pulling you closer, driving his cock deeper into your mouth.

You pulled back, your teeth scraping over his sensitive head, earning you another growl from him. You teased him with your tongue, swirling it around the delicate tip while pumping his shaft with your hand. His hips bucked, and hand tightened in your hair.

You moaned around him, feeling the power that this simple act of pleasure held over him. He groaned, thrusting his hips forward as you put him back into your mouth, taking him deep until your nose was pressed against his pubic hair, his hand gripping the back of your head, wanting you even deeper. You pulled back, sucking him off with a pop, the sound echoing in the room. His cock twitched, getting harder, more sensitive with every stroke.

“God, you look so pretty sucking my cock,” he growled, his eyes locked on your face as you continued to stroke him and hollow out his thoughts.

You didn't miss a beat, your hand moving in sync with your mouth as you suckled his length, feeling his cock pulse in your hand. You could feel his desire building, feel him reaching for that point of no return. And you wanted to be there when he crossed that line.

“Look at me, baby, look at the camera with your pretty eyes while my cock’s in your mouth,” he commanded, his voice raw and needy.

You lifted your eyes to meet the camera lens, your gaze unwavering as you continued to suck on his cock, your other hand still pumping him rhythmically. You could feel his thighs trembling, his hips bucking, and his grip on your hair stronger.

“That’s it, take my whole cock,” he growled, his voice a mixture of pleasure and dominance. “Look at you, sucking me off like a pro. Such a good girl.”

You took him in deeper, praise giving you a new surge of confidence, your throat stretching to accommodate his girth, and your eyes watering from the sensation. You could feel the veins throbbing under your lips, and the taste of his precum glistening on your tongue.

“Don’t be shy, lick my balls too,” he said, taking his cock out of your mouth.

You eagerly complied, lowering your head towards his balls, kissing, licking and nibbling gently. He moaned loudly, his hands gripping your hair tighter as you took his balls into your mouth, sucking and releasing, creating a soft slurping sound as you did so.

"Oh fuck, yes," he groaned, his hips rocking back and forth in time with your mouth. "Suck on them harder, baby."

You obliged, taking his balls in your mouth and sucking on them deeply while his cock throbbed above you. You could feel him getting closer, his body stiffening and his breathing quickening.

“Mmm... fuck, you’re so good at this,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “I’m gonna cum soon. Are you ready for it?”

You knew what he needed, so you went back to work, taking his cock into your mouth once more. You sucked and licked, and your hand stroked him vigorously. Your saliva mixed with his precum, making your mouth slick and warm.

“Oh fuck, right there, that’s it, baby,” he panted, his body shuddering. “You’re going to make me cum so hard.”

You increased your pace, your mouth swallowing him down.

“Are you going to cum on my tits?” You asked, raising your eyes from the camera lens to look into his.

He smirked, "No, I want to see you take it down your throat."

You swallowed hard, nodding as you removed your mouth from his cock and backed away slightly. His cock, glistening with a mix of saliva and pre-cum, stood at attention, twitching softly.

You took it in your hand and rubbed the sensitive head between your fingers, watching your spit glisten on the tip. He moaned softly, his hips bucking as you slowly brought it to your lips. You ran your tongue over the tip, savoring the taste of his pre-cum, before taking him into your mouth. You slowly slid down his length, taking him deeper with each swallow.

He let out a low groan, his hand fisting in your hair as you took him further and further. When your nose was pressed against his pubic hair, he let out a strangled cry and thrust his hips forward, his cock hitting the back of your throat. His cum erupted from him, a torrent of hot, salty jets that coated your tongue and filled your throat. You choked back a reflexive gag, your eyes watering with the sensation, but held on, swallowing the thick, ropy liquid until he was spent.

You pulled away, your lips plump and glistening with his cum, and hooked a finger under your chin to wipe away the excess. For a moment, you just looked at him, your eyes locked with his, your chests heaving as you both caught your breaths.

He reached down and wiped away the remaining cum from your cheek, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a moment of stillness, a sense of completion and satisfaction in the air.

"Fuck, that was amazing," he panted, his hand still in your hair.

You smiled, your eyes glinting with mischief. "Not done yet," you whispered, reaching up to kiss his lips, the taste of cum still on your tongue.

The two of you shared a long, lingering kiss, sucking on each other’s tongues as passion still simmered between you. His hand moved down to your chest, brushing over your breast, his fingers playing with your nipple.

You broke the kiss, your eyes still locked with his. "Come with me," you purred, a smirk playing on your lips.

You led him to the bed, your movements confident and sultry. He followed you, his eyes never leaving your body, his hunger for you palpable.

“I want to sit on your face, and I want to film it.” you announced, your voice low and seductive. Not even you knew from where this newfound confidence came from, but you let it wash over you, feeling empowered and desirable. And you wanted to explore this side of you further.

He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and excitement, clearly not expecting this sudden turn of events.

"Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

"Absolutely," you replied, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "I want to see your face when you're pleasuring me.”

“Wow, look at you. I thought you were camera shy, but here you are directing me around,” he teased, a playful smile spreading across his face.

"Get on the bed, on your back," you instructed, taking off your panties, your voice now firm and commanding. He did as you instructed, spreading out on the bed with a cheeky grin on his face.

You climbed onto the bed, straddling him and positioning yourself above his face. Your hips swayed as you watched him watch you, his eyes never leaving your face. You held the camera in front of you, making sure it was centered on his face and capturing every detail of his expression. You could feel his breath against your most intimate parts, a gentle reminder of what was to come.

“Ready, set…”

Instantly his mouth met your cunt, his tongue darting out to tease your clit before delving inside, tasting your sweetness. You moaned softly, your hips bucking in time with his mouth. He sucked and licked, his hands stroking your thighs, his eyes never leaving the lens. It was like a dance, your movements in sync with his, each touch and stroke building the momentum.

The camera captured it all - your gasping, your moaning, and the way your body arched as his tongue dug deeper. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked on your clit and your legs shook, your whole body trembling as pleasure coursed through you. You could feel him growing more confident with every passing second, his tongue moving in a rhythm that drove you wild.

“Harder,” you demanded, your voice strained with lust. “Fuck me with that tongue.”

He complied, his tongue thrusting in and out of you, his lips sucking and pulling right where you needed the most. Each touch sent shivers through your body, the tension building and the release just around the corner.

“I’m so close, baby,” you whispered, your eyes locking with his.

“Don’t stop,” you whimpered, the sensation overwhelming. He didn’t, his tongue flicking and probing, his hand going up your waist, now reaching to cup your breasts, his fingers twirling and pinching your nipples.

You gripped at his hair, giving yourself some more balance as you started grinding on his face. He moaned against your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your body.

“Mm, that’s right, baby. Ride my face.” he muffled, one hand falling to your hip and the other slapping your ass, encouraging you further.

You looked at him, breath catching in your throat at the sight. His green eyes filled with such lust and wildness that you wanted to take a picture and carry it in your wallet if it were any appropriate. And that was just enough to send you overboard.

He held your hips firmly as you spasmed over his face, his mouth continuing to devour you. Your moans turned to screams, and he licked and sucked at your sensitive spots, not letting any drop of pleasure from you go to waste. His hands roamed your body until you finally collapsed on top of him, breathless and drained.

You lay there for a moment, camera dropped on the mattress, your cheeks flushed and heart pounding. You looked down at him, his face glistening with your juices and smiled. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with satisfaction and gave you a smirk. Slowly, you climbed off him and he sat up, and you kissed him, savoring the taste of yourself on his lips, his rough beard stubble scraping against your skin.

“I’m ready. I want you now,” you murmured against his mouth.

He smiled, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Get on your hands and knees then,”

You complied way too eagerly, positioning yourself just as he wanted, ass up in the air and back arched. He crawled behind you, his cock hard and ready again. He slapped your ass, the sting of his hand sending a new wave of drive coursing through you.

“Are you dripping for me?” he leaned to whisper in your ear, his breath making you shudder. You moaned in response, the desire too intense.

“Oh yes, you are,” he said for you, running his fingers through your folds.

He slid his cock into you from behind, filling you up in a single, powerful thrust. Your moan turned to a growl as he began to move, his hand gripping your hips tightly. You could feel his cock hitting your sweet spot with each thrust, and the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

“Harder!” you urged, your body begging for me.

Obliging, his thrust became rougher, your skin slapping against his. He filmed as he pounded you, the camera capturing every movement, every expression on your face as you turned to look at him over your shoulder, every bead of sweat that dripped down your skin. His thrusts grew harder and faster, animalistic in their intensity. Your breath was coming in short, sharp gasps as he hit you deeper, your body quivering.

“Lando, I’m going to cum,” you panted.

He grunted and took a handful of your hair, and yanked you towards him, making you yelp. Throwing the camera away, he wrapped his now free hand around your throat as he continued to drill into you. You could hear his heavy breaths, feel his heart racing against your back. Your mind was on fire, adrenaline coursing through your veins. With another deep and forceful thrust, he suddenly pushed you off his cock. Then, he laid on the bed.

“Get on top of me,” he ordered.

You wasted no time climbing on top of him, your body trembling with satisfaction, but aching for more. You straddled his hips, both of you watching as you lowered yourself on his thick cock. He groaned as you impaled yourself on him, his hands gripping your hips, pulling you closer to him. The sensation of being filled again was both intense and pleasurable and you couldn’t help but moan as your body began to move in sync with his.

Your hips undulated, your tits bouncing and jiggling with every thrust. You could feel his eyes on you, the camera back in his hands and the hunger and desire never waning. He let you take control, and you began to move faster, your excitement building with each second. Your body was aching for release, but you held on, savoring the moment. You could hear his breath hitching, his body straining to keep up with you.

Your movements became more erratic, your pace quickening as you neared the edge. The thrusts became deep and hard, your ass slapping against his thighs with each impact. You held onto his shoulders for support, the sensation of his hand gripping your flesh only fueling you more. But in all that ecstasy, you lost your balance and collapsed onto his chest, your hips never ceasing to grind on him.

He wrapped his arm around you, holding you close as you shuddered and trembled in his embrace. “Easy, babe,” he whispered, a smirk evident in his voice.

You moaned into his neck and straightened up again. You began slowly rocking your hips back and forth, sitting fully on his cock.

“That’s right, baby, ride me for a bit,” he whispered, running his hand down your spine.

You smirked and leaned down, placing a kiss on his lips before grinding your hips against him in a slow and sensual rhythm. Your breasts jiggled with each movement, and he followed every sway through the lens.

“Look at you. Aren’t you a goddess, huh?” he said, his green eyes never leaving your body as his fingers continued to roam your skin. Your movements became hypnotic, each gentle rock increased the pressure on his cock, making him groan with pleasure.

“A goddess sitting on her throne.” he propped himself up, trailing kisses down your neck, his fingers digging into your hip. You could feel his cock pulsating against your sensitive spots, reminding you of how much more he wanted.

“Time to show me what you got,” he whispered and laid back on the pillows.

You leaned back on your hands, angling yourself perfectly over him, both of you gazing into each other’s eyes. You gave him a full display of your cunt and slowly started going up and down on his cock, his hand pulling you closer each time you descended onto him. You increased your movements, your tits bouncing wildly with each bump. He matched your energy, propping his hips up to meet yours.

You moaned and grunted, your body trembling with each thrust. His eyes were intently focused on your body, capturing every detail for the camera. He reached up and pinched your sensitive nipples, making you cry out in pleasure.

Lowering his hand, he started rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb. Your body buckled under his touch, your moans growing louder and your movements becoming erratic. He could feel your walls pulsating around him and he knew that this wasn’t going to last much longer. Throwing the camera away, he wrapped both of his arms around you, pulling you onto his chest. You fell without resistance and he took control, fucking into you from below.

“I can feel you getting close,” he said, his voice ragged.

“Uh huh,” you gasped, your voice caught in your throat.

“Not yet, baby,” and in one swift motion, he flipped you over onto your back. Your legs fell apart and he thrust into you with a deep groan. He leaned down, kissing you hard, his tongue darting into your mouth, tasting you, consuming you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him deeper, not letting him stop, feeling his cock sliding in and out of you with a slick, wet sound.

His hands wandered over your body, his mouth attached to your breast and fingers teasing your clit. You cried out with every move, your body trembling, your desire reaching its peak. He could feel your juices flowing, slicking his cock, coating your bodies. He thrust into you harder, faster, his eyes locked on yours.

He was dominating you, he was possessing you and you loved every second of it. You loved the way he made you feel, the power he exuded and above all, you loved the pleasure and satisfaction he was giving you.

“Are you going to cum?” he asked, eyes blazing.

“I’m so close, Lan,” you moaned and whined, your whole body tightening as you neared your end.

“Hold it,” he groaned, his hips still pistoning into you with a fierce determination.

“I don’t know how much longer I can—”

“I’m going to give you a countdown,” he growled, his breath becoming ragged and hot against your neck.

“Ten,” he whispered, thrusting deeper into your pulsating pussy. Your breath hitched as you waited with bated breath.

“Nine,” he groaned, his hands gripping your hip and pulling you closer.

“Eight,” he growled, his chest heaving with the effort of holding back his own release. You felt the tension building within you, the lust and desire coursing through your veins, making you moan and buck your hips.

“Seven,” he hissed, his mouth closing over yours in a searing kiss as his hips pressed against you. You groaned into his mouth, your hips bucking temporarily out of control as the sensation of his tongue dueling with yours sent shivers down your spine.

“Six,” he moaned, finding your hips again and slamming into you, his rough moans echoing in your ears as he fought to hold back his own climax. You could feel the tension in his body, the desperation that threatened to consume him.

“Five,” he panted, his eyes locked on yours, his hands gripping your ass and pulling you even closer.

“Four,” he breathed, his hips bucking wildly, his cock slamming into you with a fierce intensity.

“Three,” he growled, his passion and desire coursing through his veins, his body shaking with the need to release.

“Two,” he hissed, the muscles in his arms and legs tensing as he held himself back from cumming.

“Almost there,” you whispered, your voice barely a breath.

“Not yet,” he groaned, his hips never faltering in their rhythm. “One more.”

“One more,” you agreed, your body trembling, your pussy pulsating around his cock.

“One. Now, baby. Cum around me,” and then, just as you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, he began to thrust harder, faster, his eyes locked with yours as he pushed you right to the edge.

You threw your head back, your eyes rolling up in sheer bliss of the orgasm taking over. Your muscles tightened around him, milking for every ounce of pleasure he could give. He grew more aggressive, thrusting into you with abandon, your orgasm triggering his own.

“I’m going to cum,” he grunted, his body shuddering with the force of his release.

You reached for the camera, ready to capture the moment forever, but he got a hold of your wrist and pinned it down.

“Leave it,” he gasped, his eyes glazed over.

“I thought you wanted to record this?” you panted, struggling to keep up with his intense pace.

He shook his head, a smirk playing on his lips. His hand slid into yours and interlocked your fingers together. “I want to remember this through my eyes. I want it to stay only in my mind, forever.”

And with that, he pulled out and spilled all over your stomach. You laid there, panting and spent, his cum drying on your skin and you found yourself in awe of the experience that just happened between the two of you. A rush of adrenaline and pleasure coursed through your veins, making you feel alive and invigorated.

Lando laid beside you, his eyes still glazed over from his intense orgasm. He reached down and wiped the cum off of your stomach, then slowly started stroking your thigh. “Was everything okay?”

You gazed into his eyes and traced your fingers along his jawline. “It was incredible, Lando. I’ve never felt so alive.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” His voice was a gentle purr, and he leaned in to nibble on your earlobe. “Maybe next time we’ll try something different. You know, switch it up and keep things interesting.”

“Next time?” you playfully raised your eyebrow. “Who said there’s going to be a next time?”

Lando chuckled, his hand drifting down to your firm ass, squeezing it lightly. "Oh, there will definitely be a next time. You can't resist me, sweetheart."

You smiled coyly, playing along. “In your dreams, Norris.”

He chuckled at your playful banter, his hand still firmly on your ass. “We’ll see about that, babe.” He leaned in closer, his lips brush against your neck, making you shiver. “But for now, I think it’s time for a little aftercare.”

He rolled off of you, his arms still wrapped around your waist. You sat up, your body still pulsating from the intense sex, and looked at him. He was still panting, his eyes locked onto your body, his arousal still prominent. He pulled you into his embrace, his hands gently caressing your back, his breath warm on your neck.

“I can’t believe we did that,” you whispered, still in awe of the intensity of the experience.

“Do you want to review the footage?” Lando asked, breaking the sweet moment.

“Yeah, we could do that,”

He nodded, breaking the embrace and reaching for the camera. He scrolled through the footage, stopping at the part where you were on top of him.

“Look at that,” he said, a proud smile on his face. “You were incredible.”

He kept scrolling, stopping at the part where he took you from behind. He played it back, and you couldn’t help but watch in amazement.

“Who knew you were so kinky?” you teased, laughing at the sight of your own flexibility.

He grinned, still looking at the footage. “I think I knew all along. But it's nice to see you let loose.”

You glanced at the screen, your cheeks flushing a little at the sight of your body, your moans, and the way you surrendered to him. You felt a wave of pride and satisfaction wash over you, knowing that you had given him a performance that you both could remember forever.

“I had a lot of fun,” you admitted, still laughing.

He handed you the camera, and you scrolled through the footage. You stopped at the part where he was on top of you, his eyes locked onto yours, and you felt the rush of adrenaline all over again.

“I never knew I could feel this way,” you whispered, a tear escaping from the corner of your eye. “With you.”

He leaned over, wiping away your tear with his thumb, his eyes filled with tenderness and love.

“You can feel any way you want to,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. “As long as it’s with me.”

He pulled you into a deep, passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your body once again, reminding you of the intense pleasure and connection you had just shared. And he was right - you could feel anything you wanted to, as long as it was with him.

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Vegas Baby | MV1

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: After winning his fourth world championship, Max Verstappen stuns the world with a live radio proposal.

A/N: This was inspired by this post by @altxanna idea so good it made me get over my writer's block and write this 4.2k monstrosity.

MAX VERSTAPPEN MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Max Verstappen crossed the finish line in fifth place, but that didn’t matter. The entire world was fixated on the fact that he had just won his fourth World Championship.

“AND MAX VERSTAPPEN DOES IT AGAIN! FOUR WORLD TITLES!” David Croft shouted, his voice teetering on the edge of hysteria. The Las Vegas skyline lit up like a fireworks display on overdrive, the crowd roaring in approval.

“Forget where he finished—he’s a four-time world champion!” Martin Brundle yelled, equally excited. “This is history!”

Max, however, barely seemed to notice he’d crossed the line in fifth. He was just… Max. Calm. Collected. His voice came through the radio, steady as always, but with a hint of amusement.

“Thanks, guys. It’s been an incredible season. I’m so proud of the team. Huge thanks to GP, Christian, everyone.”

“You’ve done it, Max! Four-time champion, man!” GP screamed, clearly unable to keep the excitement in. “This is massive, mate! You’ve earned this!”

“Yeah, I know,” Max said, his voice deadpan. “But listen, there’s one more thing.”

The radio went quiet for a second.

“Uh… What’s that, Max?” GP asked, his tone suddenly cautious.

Max didn’t respond right away. Then, he casually dropped the bomb.

“Y/n, a bet’s a bet. We’re getting married tonight.”

“WHAT?!” GP exploded. “WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?”

Max’s tone didn’t change. “We’re getting married. Vegas chapel. Tonight.”

The entire Red Bull garage froze. Even the other engineers looked around in total confusion.

Max continued, his voice as if he were discussing the weather. “It’s been planned. I won the fourth title, she agreed to the bet, so… wedding time.”

GP sputtered. “Max, you—WHAT? No, no, no. You can’t just say that on the radio! You can’t just—”

“I’m doing it,” Max said, already tired of the conversation. “It’s happening. Vegas. Tonight.”

The radio was dead silent for a long moment, then GP finally spoke, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and dread. “Max, I—What in the world did I just hear? Are you seriously making your wedding announcement over the team radio?”

“Of course, I’m serious,” Max replied. “She said if I won my fourth title in Vegas, I could pick the wedding date. So, I picked tonight.”

“Max, you can’t—you—what the hell is wrong with you?!” GP spluttered.

Back in the commentary booth, David Croft could barely hold it together. “Did Max Verstappen just announce his wedding on live radio after winning his fourth world championship? Is that what I just heard?!”

“I think that’s exactly what you heard, Crofty,” Martin Brundle said, voice dripping with astonishment. “This is pure, unfiltered Verstappen.”

David Crofty just stared at the screen, blinking in disbelief. “Honestly, I can’t even process this. We’ve seen some wild moments in F1, but this... this might just take the cake.”

“Yeah,” Brundle said with a chuckle. “You can’t script this stuff. Not even in Vegas.”

Meanwhile, in Red Bull’s hospitality area, Y/n was standing stock-still, her eyes wide as she stared at the screen. The radio call still blaring in her ears.

“Did—did he just announce our wedding? Like… right now?!” she hissed, her hand gripping the counter in disbelief.

A Red Bull mechanic standing nearby looked just as stunned. “Uh, I think he did, yeah.”

“He’s lost it,” one engineer muttered under his breath, his face pale.

“I don’t even know what’s happening anymore,” another whispered.

The others weren’t any better off, most of them looking like they might faint. A PR rep came over, trying to maintain professionalism but clearly in shock. “Y/n, um… Max just… did he just announce your wedding?”

“Don’t look at me,” Y/n groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I can’t even… He’s the worst.”

“Vegas, baby!” another joked, only to get smacked in the arm by Y/n as she stormed past.

Back on the track, Max, utterly relaxed, parked his car in parc fermé and stepped out, throwing his helmet in the air before catching it like it was no big deal.

“So, yeah,” Max said, grinning at the cameras. “Got my fourth title, and now I get to marry my girl. Vegas chapel, let’s go!”

The reporters and photographers surrounding him stared at him in utter confusion.

“Wait, what? You’re—what?!” one reporter stammered.

Max smirked. “Yep, Vegas. I won, she lost, and now we’re getting married.”

He tossed a thumbs-up to the camera as if it were a completely normal thing to say.

“Max,” one reporter finally managed, “you’re serious about this, right? You’re really getting married in Vegas?”

Max’s grin widened. “I’m serious. A bet’s a bet. No turning back.”

Back in the Red Bull garage, chaos had officially set in. Christian Horner, who had been pacing for the last five minutes, finally stopped and glared at a nearby mechanic. “What am I supposed to do with this now?!”

“I don’t know, Christian,” the mechanic said, holding up his hands in defeat. “Maybe we start picking out flowers?”

“Someone get me a drink,” Christian muttered, walking off, leaving a sea of confusion behind him.

Y/n stormed through the paddock like a woman possessed, her face a mix of disbelief, panic, and barely contained rage.

She spotted Max leaning casually against a barrier in parc fermé, looking like he had no care in the world—despite having just announced their impending Vegas wedding to the entire world. He was surrounded by Lewis, Fernando, George, and Carlos, who were all still there congratulating him and clearly trying to comprehend what had just happened.

“MAX!” Y/n screeched as she closed the distance.

Max turned, his smug grin stretching even wider. “Oh, there she is! The future Mrs. Verstappen. Took you long enough.”

Y/n planted herself directly in front of him, glaring. “WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?”

Max blinked, his expression far too innocent. “What? I kept my promise.”

“Your promise?” Y/n echoed, incredulous. “You hijacked the championship celebration to announce a fake wedding! On LIVE TELEVISION!”

“It’s not fake,” Max said matter-of-factly. “A bet is a bet.”

Carlos, standing nearby, raised an eyebrow. “Wait, wait, wait. You bet your wedding on the championship?”

“Of course,” Max said with a shrug, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I’m a man of my word.”

George choked on air. “You’re a menace.”

“Exactly,” Y/n said, throwing her hands in the air. “Max, this is insane! You can’t just—”

“Relax, schatje,” Max interrupted, his tone annoyingly casual. “It’s Vegas. This is what people do here.”

“Not normal people!” Y/n snapped.

Lewis, still dabbing at his face with a towel, gave a bewildered laugh. “I’m sorry, are we actually talking about a real wedding right now?”

“Yes,” Max said confidently. “Tonight.”

“No,” Y/n shot back.

“Yes.”

“MAX!”

“Yes, Y/n,” Max said, leaning forward slightly. “We are getting married tonight, and that’s final.”

“Final?!” she spluttered. “How is this final? There’s no plan, no venue, no—”

“Vegas has plenty of chapels,” Max interrupted smoothly.

“I don’t have a dress!”

“You’ll look great in anything,” Max countered.

Y/n groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I don’t even have someone to walk me down the aisle!”

Max tilted his head, clearly unbothered. “Oh, that’s easy.” He turned to his left, where Lewis stood mid-sip from his water bottle. “Lewis! Can you walk Y/n down the aisle tonight?”

Lewis froze, the bottle halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“Can you walk her down the aisle?” Max repeated, as if this were a completely reasonable request.

“I—” Lewis blinked, looking between Max and Y/n. “Uh… sure?”

“What?! No!” Y/n shouted.

“Why me?” Lewis asked, baffled.

Max shrugged. “You’re a world champion. She deserves someone of high status.”

Before Y/n could combust, Fernando Alonso stepped forward, a sly grin on his face. “Hold on,” he said, raising a hand. “If anyone is walking her down the aisle, it should be me. I’m the most appropriate for the role.”

Lewis turned to him, visibly confused. “How do you figure that?”

Fernando gave a dramatic shrug. “Experience. I’m wiser, more distinguished. A father figure, if you will.”

Y/n groaned, “Oh my God, Fernando—”

Lewis snorted. “Father figure? Please. More like grandfather figure.”

The group exploded into laughter. George doubled over, wheezing, while Carlos clapped a hand over his mouth to stifle his own cackles.

“You wound me, Hamilton,” Fernando said, his tone mock-offended.

“Yeah, but I’m not wrong,” Lewis quipped, smirking.

“This is not happening,” Y/n muttered, covering her face with her hands.

Max leaned closer to her, his grin pure mischief. “See? Problem solved. You have two excellent candidates to walk you down the aisle.”

“This is NOT solved!” Y/n screeched.

George finally spoke up, still chuckling. “You know, for the record, this is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen”

“Agreed,” Carlos said, shaking his head with a grin. “But I can’t look away.”

Max clapped his hands together. “Alright, then. We’re all set! Lewis or Fernando—it’s Y/n’s choice.”

“I CHOOSE NEITHER!” she yelled, clearly on the verge of a breakdown.

Max leaned back, entirely unfazed. “Suit yourself. But one way or another, schatje, we’re getting married tonight.”

Y/n turned to the other drivers, her eyes pleading. “Can someone PLEASE talk some sense into him?”

Lewis shrugged. “I don’t know, Y/n. He seems pretty set on it. You might just have to roll with it.”

Fernando smirked. “And let me know when you decide. I’ll be practicing my ‘giving away the bride’ speech.”

George buried his face in his hands again, mumbling, “This is a fever dream.”

Y/n, meanwhile, was contemplating her life choices as Max grinned at her, utterly pleased with himself. This was going to be a nightmare—and she was the star attraction.

Suddenly, Lando came sprinting out of nowhere, practically skidding to a stop in front of Max. His curls were a chaotic mess, and his face was split into an ear-to-ear grin that made him look like an overexcited puppy.

“MAX!” Lando yelled, throwing his arms up. “FOUR-TIME WORLD CHAMPION! YOU LEGEND! Also mate, what the hell?! Are you really getting married?!” 

Max turned, his ever-present grin widening. “Obviously.”

“I thought it was just a rumor!” Lando said, flinging his helmet onto a nearby table. “I mean, come on, you say insane stuff on the radio all the time! I figured this was one of those things.”

“Nope.” Max popped the “p” for emphasis. “It’s happening. Tonight.”

Y/n, who had been pacing nearby in a futile attempt to process her life choices, groaned audibly. “I hate all of you. All of you.”

Lando glanced at her, then back at Max. “Wait, so this is real? Like… actually real?”

“As real as it gets,” Max replied, clapping Lando on the shoulder. “And since you’re here…”

Lando squinted. “Since I’m here, what?”

Max’s grin turned sly, his hand still on Lando’s shoulder. “How do you feel about being my best man tonight?”

Lando froze, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. “Wait, what?”

“You heard me,” Max said, still looking far too pleased with himself.

“Me?!” Lando gestured wildly at himself, his voice rising an octave. “Why me?!”

“Why not you?” Max countered smoothly.

“I don’t know!” Lando threw up his hands. “You could ask your trainer, your engineer—anyone! We’ve been rivals this entire year!”

Max tilted his head, his expression softening slightly. “Exactly. We’ve had a lot of ups and downs this year, yeah? Fighting for the championship and everything. But at the end of the day…” He paused, his grin shifting to something more genuine. “You’re a good friend, Lando. One of the best. And I’d like us to bury the hatchet. Tonight.”

The sudden sincerity hit Lando like a truck. His eyes widened, his lip quivering just a little as he stared at Max. “Max…”

The group went quiet—well, as quiet as it could be with the chaos of the paddock swirling around them. Even Y/n stopped pacing to stare, her eyebrows raised in surprise.

“You really mean that?” Lando asked, his voice thick with emotion.

“Of course,” Max said, giving Lando a firm pat on the back. “You’ve been there through all of it, mate. Who else would I want standing next to me tonight?”

Lando’s hand flew to his face, his bottom lip wobbling. “Oh my God. I think I’m gonna cry.”

“Don’t cry,” George mumbled, clearly trying to stifle a laugh. “This is ridiculous enough already.”

“Shut up, George!” Lando snapped, though it lacked any real venom. He sniffled, blinking rapidly. “Max, you big idiot. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Max smirked. “Well, don’t get used to it.”

Y/n, watching this entire exchange with her arms crossed, muttered under her breath, “I cannot believe this is my life right now.”

Carlos, standing nearby, leaned over to George and whispered, “Do you think Lando will actually cry at the altar?”

“Oh, 100%,” George replied without hesitation.

“I’M NOT CRYING!” Lando shouted, wiping furiously at his eyes.

“Sure, mate,” Carlos said, grinning.

“Shut up!” Lando whirled back to Max, pointing a slightly wobbly finger at him. “Fine! I’ll do it. I’ll be your best man. But only because that was the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Good.” Max nodded approvingly. “We’re gonna have a great time. Bring tissues, though. You’ll need them.”

Lando groaned. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re emotional,” Max teased, clapping him on the back again.

“Can I leave now?” Y/n interjected, looking thoroughly exasperated.

“Nope,” Max said cheerfully. “We’ve still got wedding planning to do. And Lando needs to rehearse his speech.”

“Speech?!” Lando exclaimed, his face paling. “No one said anything about a speech!”

“Oh, come on,” Carlos said, grinning. “Just wing it.”

“This is a nightmare,” Y/n muttered.

“See, schatje?” Max said, turning to her with a mischievous smile. “Everything’s settled”

“Kill me now,” she groaned, dragging her hands down her face.

“Not before the wedding,” Max quipped. “I need my bride alive, schatje.”

Carlos, grinning, nudged George. “Do you think she’ll kill him before they even make it to the altar?”

“I actually might” Y/n snapped, making everyone laugh—except her.

Max clapped his hands together, cutting through the lingering laughter. “Alright, boys, fun’s over. See you after the podium, yeah?”

Carlos snorted, throwing an arm around George. “Come on, hombre. Let’s get out of here before they decide to do something crazier.”

Max turned to Carlos, his grin turning devious. “Speaking of you, Carlos, I need another groomsman. What do you say?”

Carlos blinked, clearly caught off guard. “Me? Really?”

“Obviously,” Max said, rolling his eyes. “You’re good at standing around looking pretty. Perfect for the job.”

“I’m honored,” Carlos said, puffing out his chest dramatically.

Y/n, standing a few feet away, raised her hand. “Dibs on George for my side, then.”

George’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, what?”

“I called dibs,” Y/n said firmly, crossing her arms.

“That’s not how this works!” Max exclaimed, glaring at her.

“It is now,” she shot back, grinning.

Max groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You are impossible.”

“You’re marrying me,” she said sweetly. “This is your problem now.”

Before Max could argue further, he grabbed her hand, tugging her away from the group. “We need to pick more people. Properly.”

As they walked through the paddock, Max started listing names under his breath. “Alright, I want Charles on my side.”

“No way,” Y/n said immediately.

Max frowned. “Why not?”

“Because I’m picking him,” Y/n declared, speeding up her pace as soon as she spotted Charles standing by his car.

Max groaned. “You can’t just steal all the good ones!”

“Watch me.”

By the time they reached Charles, Y/n was already stepping in front of Max, her grin wicked. “Charles! You’re going to be my maid of honor.”

Charles looked up, his face blank with confusion. “Wait, what?”

Max shoved Y/n aside, scowling. “Ignore her, Charles. You’re going to be one of my groomsmen.”

“No, he’s not!” Y/n snapped, stepping back in front of Max.

“Yes, he is!” Max shot back, sidestepping her.

Charles blinked between them, his brows furrowing. “What is happening right now?”

“You’re gonna help me with my wedding,” Y/n said, grinning like she’d just won the lottery. “It’s happening tonight.”

Charles just stared at her, still not sure if he was in a dream or being pranked. “Uh… are you serious?”

“Charles, listen to me,” Y/n said, grabbing his hands dramatically. “I need you on my side. You’re the only one who understands how insane Max is.”

Max pulled her back by the shoulder. “He does not understand that! He’s my friend, not yours.”

Charles raised a hand. “Guys, what—”

“Do you really want to stand next to Max?” Y/n asked, cutting him off.

Max glared at her. “Do you really want to be stuck with her?”

“I feel like I don’t want to be stuck with either of you,” Charles said cautiously, his confusion growing.

“Charles,” Y/n pleaded, gripping his arm. “Please. You’ll get to wear something cool”

Charles blinked, still completely befuddled. “I… I don’t know what’s happening. Am I even invited to this wedding? Because you’re asking me to do a lot without any context.”

“Don’t listen to her!” Max interjected, gesturing wildly. “You’ll have more fun on my side. I’ll let you hold the rings.”

“No we’re letting Yuki hold the rings!” Y/n shouted.

Charles blinked again, looking between them like they’d both lost their minds. “Are you two seriously fighting over me right now?”

“Yes!” they yelled in unison.

Charles sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Say yes to me, Charles,” Y/n said, batting her eyelashes.

“No, say yes to me,” Max countered, practically growling.

Charles threw his hands up. “Fine! I’ll be on Y/n’s side. But only because she asked first.”

Y/n cheered, sticking her tongue out at Max. “Suck it!”

“I feel like I should be insulted,” Max muttered as Charles smirked at him.

The wedding was somehow happening. In the span of a few hours—thanks to an intense series of last-minute phone calls, frantic text messages, and a team of Red Bull employees being worked to the bone—the ceremony was set to begin. And despite the fact that no one really knew how they’d gotten here, the whole thing had turned into the weirdest Formula 1 event in history.

Y/n stood in the back, adjusting her dress, eyeing the people around her in disbelief. Max had somehow managed to throw together an entire wedding in record time, which was somehow both impressive and terrifying. She was walking down the aisle with Lewis and Fernando—two of the most iconic figures in F1. She couldn’t decide between them, so she’d invited both to walk her down the aisle. Because, why not?

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Lewis asked, smoothing out his jacket. His suit was impeccable, of course. He was an icon of style, so a last-minute wedding wasn’t going to stop him from looking good.

“I’m just trying to survive this,” Y/n muttered

“We’re in Vegas. Anything goes,” Fernando quipped, the slightest hint of a smile on his lips. “At least the wedding's got personality."

“You both know I’ll never live this down, right?” Y/n said, shaking her head. "This whole thing is so Max, I feel like I should apologize to everyone for being part of it."

“You’ll be fine,” Fernando added with a smile, adjusting his cufflinks. “It’s Max. You know he doesn’t do anything half-heartedly. He’s probably already planned the honeymoon.”

Y/n laughed nervously. “I’m pretty sure he has. You’ve both seen what happens when Max gets an idea in his head. And somehow... this is actually happening.”

“You’ve got this,” Lewis said. “We’re here for you.”

Before Y/n could respond, the doors swung open, signaling that it was time. The aisle was a bit too short for a proper procession, and the whole thing had a sense of hurried chaos as they started walking down toward the altar.

At the front, Max stood there waiting, looking like he was about to burst with excitement. His best man, Lando, had been fighting tears all night and was now sniffling into a tissue. "I swear this is the happiest day of my life," Lando muttered to Carlos, wiping his eyes.

Carlos, looking slightly concerned, just shook his head. “It’s their wedding Lando, not even your own. stop bawling.”

“Yeah, but it’s their wedding,” Lando said, eyes still damp. “There’s too much love in the air.”

Max had his hands tucked in his pockets, grinning like a kid on Christmas morning. When he spotted Y/n, he gave her an exaggerated wink, as if to say, “We made it.”

“You good?” Fernando asked, glancing at Y/n as they reached the front.

“I’m questioning every life choice I’ve made,” Y/n muttered under her breath, feeling the full weight of the absurdity of the situation.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Max said, grinning.

At the back of the room, Oscar and Franco stood with baskets of flowers, both looking thoroughly confused in their roles as flower boys. Oscar had been dragged into this because of his unwillingness to protest. Franco, on the other hand, was too amused to care about the situation and just went along with it.

“Oscar, why are we doing this again?” Franco whispered, furrowing his brows as he sprinkled petals on the floor.

“Because Yuki said we had to. And I’m not arguing with him,” Oscar muttered, holding his basket as if it were a grenade about to go off.

“Who cares? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime experience! Attending Max Vertsappen’s wedding?,” Franco said with stars in his eyes, “I’ll tell my grandkids about this.”

Yuki, holding the rings, couldn’t contain his excitement as he gave them instructions. “Guys, you’re doing great. Just, uh, try not to look confused. I need this to look professional. Oscar throw the petals properly! more passion! more energy! more footwork!”

“I’m already questioning my entire existence,” Oscar said, looking at Franco for solidarity. Franco just smiled and threw a handful of petals into the air.

The Elvis officiating the wedding was already in full swing, not entirely sure of the gravity of the moment but having a blast nonetheless.

"Y’all ready to get hitched?" Elvis said, his voice more vibrant than Y/n could’ve imagined.

Max, barely containing his excitement, looked over at Y/n. “Ready for this, love?” he asked, his voice low, though it carried a hint of playfulness.

Y/n smiled, glancing at him for a moment. “More than ever.”

Then, in front of everyone, they exchanged their vows.

Max spoke first, his voice unwavering, but there was an undeniable tenderness in his words. “Y/n, you’ve turned my world upside down. You’ve made every race, every moment, better just by being there. I promise to keep being the person you’ve decided to stand at an altar with, the person you love—even when I’m an absolute nightmare. I’ll always fight for us, for this. I love you.”

Y/n could feel her heart in her throat as she spoke. “Max, you’ve always been… Max. But you’ve shown me that you are a person with the biggest heart. You’ve made me laugh, cry, and love harder than I thought I could. You’re my best friend, and I can’t wait for the next chapter of this crazy life with you. I love you.”

There were no grand gestures or over-the-top theatrics; instead, it was just them—raw, honest, and completely present in this moment.

Max smiled at her, the kind of smile that made everything feel right, before turning to the officiant.

“Elvis, hit me with that ‘you may kiss the bride’ line,” Max said, giving a wink.

And so, amidst the madness, they kissed, sealing their vows with a moment that felt right in all its simplicity. The crowd cheered, some clapping and others, like Lando, wiping away happy tears. It wasn’t the wedding anyone had expected, but it was exactly what Max and Y/n had needed.

As they pulled away, Y/n’s gaze met Max’s, and for a brief moment, it was just the two of them, everything else fading away.

As the ceremony ended and the newlyweds turned to leave, the crowd of friends and teammates erupted into applause, some of them still trying to process what had just happened.

Lando was grinning, wiping his eyes. “This is so perfect. I’m still not sure how we managed to get here in two hours, but it’s amazing.”

Charles was smiling too, giving Y/n a thumbs up. “Congrats, both of you. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Max is married now.”

Lewis patted Max on the back. “She’s got you now. Good luck with that.”

Y/n smiled at him, a little breathless. “So, are you planning to annoy me for the rest of our lives?”

Max grinned back, a playful gleam in his eyes. “Absolutely. You’ve signed up for it, so no turning back now.”

Everyone laughed, but there was a deep sincerity in the air. This was their moment—imperfect and hurried, but beautiful in its own way.

[martygraciesversion381]

Smau where max and reader grew up together and have been together since they were like early teens and they are married and everyone makes fun of max because he has been down bad for reader since day 1. So simp max? And the fans love her and max fights them in the comments lol

LOVER (MV1)

a/n: i hoped that's what you asked for and that you like it<3 (sorry it took me long to write it)

warnings: non just fluff, max being down bad for reader, smau

maxverstappen1

liked by y/nverstappen, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others

maxverstappen1: so glad to have you here today love of my life💕 i guess they were right when they talked about soulmates and good luck charms cause you defenitely are both for me💕

154637 comments

y/nverstappen: love u sooo much maxie💕

↳ maxverstappen1: ik hou van je liefje💕

↳ user1: the heart emoji....i can't

↳ user2: mom and dad

user3: @/y/nverstappen marry me pleaseeee

↳ maxverstappen1: nu-hu she's already taken

↳ user4: lol he's so down bad

user5: i love simp max

↳ user6: he's been like this since day 1

maxverstappen1

liked by y/nverstappen, iamrebeccad, lilymhe and others

maxverstappen1: best holiday ever❤️

1524637 comments

y/nverstappen: love you babe❤️

↳ maxverstappen1: love you more❤️

↳ landonorris: staawwwppp you guys are so cute🥹

lilymhe: marry me pls❤️ i have much more to offer than him

↳ y/nverstappen: omg hi wife!!!

↳ maxverstappen1: sorry @/y/nverstappen but i believe you are MY wife

iamrebeccad: prettiest girl ever please let's ditch the boys and escape together!

↳ y/nverstappen: omw!!!

↳ maxverstappen1: STOP STEALING HER SHES MINE!!

comments have been restricted for this post

maxverstappen1

liked by y/nverstappen, iamrebeccad, lilymhe and others

maxverstappen1: three years since that amazing day where i first got to call you mine❤️ you are the best thing that happened to me and marrying you was the best decision i've ever made❤️ ik hou van je liefje❤️

109289 comments

y/nverstappen: ik hou van je max❤️ (look! i wrote in dutch!)

↳ maxverstappen1: i love you y/n (look! i wrote in english!)

↳ landonorris: you guys are so cute and insufferable

lilymhe: most beautiful bride ever❤️

↳ y/nverstappen: most beautiful bridesmade ever❤️

charles_leclerc: i still have pics of max crying!

↳ y/nverstappen: SEND THEM TO ME!!!

↳ maxverstappen1: god why did you have to say that

y/nverstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, lilymhe, charles_leclerc and others

y/nverstappen: my life in one post❤️ a quote + mother + dream guy❤️ love you to the moon and to saturn maxie❤️

maxverstappen1: love you too❤️ (liked by creator)

lilymhe: why am i not there as your dream girl?

↳ iamrebeccad: i could ask the same question

↳ y/nverstappen: calm down girls you know i like you more❤️

↳ maxverstappen1: @/alexalbon @/carlossainz55 come get your girld before they steal mine

user1: MOTHER IS A SWIFTIE?!

↳ y/nverstappen: of course i am! who doesn't love taylor?

↳ user1: i died dead

tags: (if you don't want to be tagged on all of my posts tell me!) @motorsportbarbie13 @g00d--vibes @gorgeusreputation16 @paulinegba @f1addict3

[pucksandpower]

Can I vent for a second? I never want to be one of those people who tries to dictate what others should write … but this is a huge pet peeve of mine.

Y/N is not the first female driver in Formula 1.

Maria Teresa de Filippis, Lella Lombardi, Divina Galica, Desiré Wilson, and Giovanna Amati did not put their blood, sweat, and tears into breaking barriers in real life only to be erased in fanfiction.

Y/N can be the first female driver in decades. Y/N can be the first female driver to race for a particular team. Y/N can be the first female driver to earn at least one point. Y/N can be the first female driver to stand on the podium. Y/N can be the first female driver to win.

But she is not the first female driver in Formula 1.

Don’t take that away from the real women who sacrificed so much to do what many deemed impossible.

[lvndosnorris]

charles who grabs your hands and GUIDES them to his hair when he’s eating you out just because he’s that slutty and wants you to pull on his hair. he literally WANTS it.

oh anon this has me feeling flustered... enjoy my lover

there was only word that could describe charles whenever he was between your legs. feral.

like a man starved he would happily spend hours between your thighs, framing his face as he'd steal glimpses of the way you arched your back. you often lost track of how many time's he'd make you cum from his tongue alone, completely enthralled by the way he'd manage to have you on the brink of heaven within minutes. it was a torturous game, especially for you — your body heaving, glistening with sweat as he'd physically smirk against your cunt at the throaty moans that would be falling from your lips and echoing around the room.

you'd fight to keep composure; balling the sheets between your fists, or pinching the flesh of your thighs as a means to keep you grounded. but each flick of his tongue, pucker of his lips around your clit, hum against you: every single one of his crazed actions had your mind numb and your stomach knotted.

"chérie—" charles' muffled whines strummed a nerve inside of you, eyes screwed shut in utter desire as you started to complain at the lack of suction. for a minute you were slapped back into reality, your wrists captured by his hands as he pulled them down until your palms were hovering over his hair, "put them to good use bébé."

it was only then did you tangle your digits through his locks, nails scraping against his scalp as he whimpered starkly. lips damp with your wetness he stared at you, not bothering to dip back down until you forced him to. your desperation was evident as you clamped your legs tighter to his head, guiding him back to where you needed him most as you let his name tumble off your tongue like some filthy mantra.

with one hand snaked between your bodies he parted your cunt, lapping his tongue deliciously as he grunted; the other guiding yours, bending your fingers and grazing your knuckles as he showed you what he wanted you to do. and of course you blindly obliged, too busy caught up in the feeling of wanting to cum more than anything.

[charlotteking23]

The Times You Have Pranked Lando - LN4

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Putting suspicious items in the cart in front of Lando

Lando and you have a free day, so what better way to spend your time than shopping at a store?

Today you felt rebellious after seeing some tiktoks of girls pranking their boyfriends.

After grabbing some things for the house, It's time to put your plan into motion. Thinking about this, you started to grin evilly before putting on a resting face so Lando wouldn't suspect anything.

You grab a gallon of bleach putting in the cart in front of Lando.

"Why do we need Bleach"? He questioned

"Because we ran out," You said trying to play it off, unsuspecting.

"How we just got some the other day? Lando said putting his hand up in a questioning movement.

"I need some more LANDO!, You said ending the conversation, silently giggling, in your head at his reaction.

"ok", Lando mumbled quickly.

You then grab a cleaning tool putting it in the cart.

"What you got to scrub"?! Lando said peering over to correctly see what you put in the cart.

"I got some deep cleaning to do babe." You said trying to hold in your laugh from your boyfriend's reaction.

"Deep cleaning for WHAT? Lando said judging the crap out of you.

"It's spring", you replied back.

Lando looks at you and then the scrubber, then you again, "It's spring", mocking you.

You put a box of Latex gloves in the cart.

"Why are you getting latex gloves", Lando said looking freaked out now.

"Because I have to use bleach, but I don't want to hurt my hands," you said showing him your hands.

"I knew watching the true crime was a bad idea now you are turning into a serial killer", Lando said looking so done with you,

Having more fun, you picked up a roll of duct tape putting it in the cart on top of the gloves.

Lando looks flabbergasted at the sight of the duct tape.

"What The Fuck...", Lando said looking over at the cart again.

carrying the Fiskars Lopper tool towards the cart putting it gently.

"The math ain't mathing no more babe", Lando said shaking his head in disbelief.

"NOOO!!", Lando said before running out of the store as fast as he could.

"Where are you going"? You said laughing.

"Not with your ass", He said running the fastest you had ever seen him before.

Summary: Lando and you got into an argument so you told him you were going to sleep in the closet...

"Babe, I'm gonna go sleep in the closet," You said taking the blanket off your sleeping boyfriend.

"babe-...", Lando said in a groggy voice from waking up.

"Give me the blanket. I'm gonna go in the closet.", you said before turning to your boyfriend who looked at you with his puppy dog eyes telling you not to leave.

"Wait...you're right. I need my pillow," You said before taking the pillow under his head.

"If you need me, I'm gonna be in the closet", you finished before heading into the closet hearing a faint whine of no from Lando.

"Babe, I need you to sleep with me...I can't sleep without you", he said sitting up on the bed and calling out to you.

You closed the closet door laying down on your makeshift bed of blankets and pillow, cuddling up to go to sleep.

You heard knocking on the door knowing of course it was Lando, "No," you replied to Lando's repeated knocking.

"Babe I have your favorite snack", Lando said opening the door ever so slightly.

"What kind of snack is it? You replied.

"Your favorite", Lando said slowly coming out from behind the door and showing you the snack he brought.

"Okay, fine. You can come", You said finally giving in to Lando's cute face and voice he does.

"Hehe"..."Yay I can join you," he said as you both laughed while he jumped cutely, coming towards to get under the blanket.

You laugh seeing Lando coming closer to you under the blanket making himself comfy while cuddling you.

"You're so cute," You said laughing as Lando continued to kiss your cheek.

[eccentricwritingbaby]

family ties

lewis hamilton x reader

summary - lewis and y/n have been going out for about half a year and he can tell she’s hiding something, or somebody. her son, a little five year old boy that lewis so desperately wants to meet. but is y/n ready for that next step?

masterlist

-

it was a stormy london night, one that you so desperately wanted to stay in during, however you had gotten a call earlier that contradicted your feelings. lewis had informed you that he had a   standing reservation at a fine restaurant in the city and he was eager to take you to it tonight. so here you were, slipping into a tasteful and beautiful black dress along with your heels, getting ready for your perfect man. everything was perfect. except for one little hidden detail. your son. 

lewis knew you were withholding some sort of information from him, he just didn’t know the extent. he wanted you to tell him when you were ready, but he wasn’t sure of the seriousness with the situation. were you cheating on him? planning on leaving him? had a different identity? using him for his fame? he had no idea. and he was planning this nice outing tonight to finally get to the bottom of it. 

“alright, he’s got everything he needs. just call me if anything happens,” you speak to your ex-boyfriend, alex, the father of your son as he drops by in order to pick dominic up for his weekend with him.

“y/n, we’ve been doing this for four years. i know the drill. you don’t have to worry about dom, i’ve got him,” alex says to you as he begins to leave. 

“i know i know, i’m sorry. just a little paranoid, you know how it is,” you laugh off towards him as you both begin to walk out the door. 

“i understand. i feel the same when he’s here,” alex shrugs as he begins to walk to his car, dominic already jumping by the door of it, excited to have his dad for the weekend, “have fun on your date tonight with the superstar,”

“oh shut up,” you laugh off to alex, “you know he’s not like that,”

“i know, i’m happy for you. just be careful with dom,”

“i already told you i wouldn’t introduce him until i talked to you,” you say to him, “and we haven’t had that talk yet, huh?”

“hey i’m not saying you can’t introduce him,” alex says to you, now getting into the drivers seat, “i’m just saying after my mistake with letting him get close to laura,” he trails off with an eye roll as you both laugh about the disaster. alex had let your son meet his girlfriend of a few months and they had hit it off, but it ended as quickly as it started once she left him. leaving dom in the dust as he cried more than alex about the breakup, “just be careful,” alex reiterates. 

“i will be,” you smile at the two boys in the car, waving goodbye to them as they pull out of your driveway and into their weekend of fun. running back into the house, you finish touching up your makeup and hair, adding your jewelry, and layering your perfume before your doorbell rings. you exhale a sigh of relief, ready for a night of no stress and fun - a given when going out with lewis. 

“hey, you,” you smile as you open the door, leading lewis into your home. 

“you look beautiful, y/n,” he breathes out, his hands itching for your waist in order to bring you closer, “the reservation is for about seven thirty so we’ve got to get going,” you lean in closer to him, grabbing your purse off the hook and leading him out the door.

“you’re right,” you peck his lips quickly, locking up your house behind you, “can’t let sir lewis hamilton get a bad reputation of being late,”

“exactly,” he chuckles at your joke and yet his hands find your waist again, “but a few minutes can’t hurt,” and just like that, lewis spins you around to face him, bringing your lips to his yet again. once separated, you move gently past him to his car.

“are you coming or what?” you ask with a laugh, swaying towards his car as he admires the way you depart.

“oh i’m coming,” he sighs out, relishing in the way you walk and the way you look. 

-

once seated at dinner, lewis was shaking in his seat wondering how he’d bring up your hidden actions. he had no proof and no sense to ruin what seemed to be your perfect night. you had been bubbly and upbeat the whole time, looking gorgeous and over the moon happy with seeing him. surely the thing you were being sketchy about couldn’t hurt him? right?

“look, y/n, there’s something i’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” lewis calmly puts into conversation as you begin to sip on the drink you had ordered. 

“of course, what’s going on?” you ask him, assuming he would just bring up another weekend of travel or something along those lines. 

“you’re clearly hiding something from me, y/n. and i want to know what it is,”

“lewis-” you try to cut in with an exasperated sigh, but instead he stops you, continuing his rambling.

“listen i know it’s only been a few months of us going out but-”

“lewis,” you try again, but his head was spinning and there was no way of stopping his mouth.

“if you’re cheating on me just say so, we can figure things out or-”

“LEWIS” you raise your voice loud enough to get his attention, without spooking the other diners around you, “i am not cheating on you,” you roughly say in his direction, your eyes not leaving the meal in front of you.

“then what is it,” he pushes, urging you to uncover your secret.

“it’s nothing like that,”

“can you look at me,” he directs, holding his hand out and taking yours with it, “please?” you look up at him, and all your strength dissipates within seconds. 

“it’s not what you think,” you start, lacing your fingers with his to have some sort of grounding, “it is serious and that’s why i didn’t tell you,” his eyes stare back at you with comfort, pleading for you to continue without pushing you into uncomfort, “i-i”

“if it’s too much, y/n, you don’t have to tell me,”

“i want to tell you, i just don’t know how you’ll feel about me afterwards,”

“no matter what it is, i’m sure i’ll feel the same,”

“i have a son,”

“oh,” lewis retracts a bit, but not much, “how old?”

“he’s five, his name is dominic,” you go on. 

“and his dad?”

“he’s around, he’s a good dad, just not a good boyfriend,” you laugh a little at your joke and keep going, “dom was an oopsie at the time, but since i had him he’s been a blessing. alex - that’s his dad’s name - he is a great dad. we just figured we were better friends. there was no real connection, we thought it would be better for dom if we were great co-parents rather than bad ‘together’ parents, so we split four years ago,”

“can i meet him?” lewis asks with a hopeful expression.

“dom?”

“yeah, i want to meet your son. i want to meet everyone important in your life, and that obviously includes him,”

“i don’t know, the reason it took so long for me to tell you was because i don’t want him to get too attached to someone who may leave, he’s at an age where consistency matters,”

“i am consistent, y/n. if you want me, i’m here forever. i promise that,” lewis oozes sincerity as he looks you in your eyes, giving you the reassurance needed to confirm what you already wanted.

“alright,” you sigh into your glass of wine, “you can meet him,” lewis lets out a quiet cheer of triumph across from you and you giggle at his antics, “but i must warn you,”

“what? anything, i’m ready,”

“he’s a redbull fan,”

“oh no, now that’ll have to change,”

-

“thank you for dropping him off,” you let out a breath of relief to alex as dom comes running into your home. 

“you’re welcome, it was no problem, truly,” he says to you as he hands you your sons bag, “how’d your superstar date go?”

“he wants to meet dom,”

“oh?” alex shoots you a surprised look, “and are you going to let that happen?”

“i think so,” you shrug off, “i think it’s time,”

“good for you,” alex shoulder bumps you a little as he continues, “you deserve this, y/n. and from what you’ve told me about him, i’m sure it will all work out,”

“yeah i hope so, he’s going to come over later if that’s okay with you?”

“my son meeting sir lewis hamilton,” alex states as he begins to walk out the door, “that is more than okay with me,” 

-

“dom? i need to talk to you about something,” you approach your five year old as he is playing in the living room with his toys. 

“what mommy?” he questions without looking up, the toys in front of him grabbing his interest.

“someone wants to meet you,” you start with caution, “and he’s coming over in a minute,”

“who?”

“well…” you ponder off, not exactly knowing the right words to piece together, “he’s mommy’s special friend,”

“like laura with daddy?”

“yes!” you cheer out quickly, excited that he grasped the concept easily, “he’s like how laura was to daddy,”

“okay,” dom lets out, “is he nice?”

“yes, love,” you nod your head for the emphasis as your son gazes up at you, “he’s very nice,”

just as you finish your thought, the doorbell to your home echoes and you and dom share a look. 

“best behavior, dom,” you warn with a pointed finger as he just giggles in your direction. getting up to go and get the door, your little boy trails behind you with a bit of excitement. 

“hi, lewis,” you greet your boyfriend as you open the door, “come on in,”

“thank you,” he chimes in, clearly hiding something behind him, “and who is this?” he asks in the direction of your legs. with that, dom comes out of his hiding place behind you in order to greet him. 

“i’m dominic,” he squeaks out shyly. lewis proceeds to get down to his knees, holding one hand still behind his back and the other out in front of him for a handshake. 

“i’m lewis, it’s nice to meet you dominic,” 

“i know who you are,” dom quietly says back while shaking his hand, still shy towards the new man in front of him. 

“oh you do?” your boyfriend questions back.

“you drive for mercedes,”

“yes i do,” lewis smiles at him, sneaking a glance in your direction as you can’t help but blush at the scene in front of you, “are you a formula one fan?”

“yes,” dom giggles, “but i like checo,”

“oh man,” lewis shakes his head a bit, “then this gift is going to go to waste,”

dom’s ears perk up at that, eyes widening as he asks with enthusiasm, “what gift?” lewis laughs a bit at the question and finally pulls his other arm from behind his back to reveal a bag. 

“why don’t we move to the couch to open it?” you put into the room, encouraging the boys to relax a bit as you gesture towards your living room. they do as you ask, moving towards the living room and perching onto the couch. you take a seat next to your son as lewis sits across from him and you on the coffee table. handing dom the bag, he begins to unwrap and look into it, finally seeing the very small and adorable hamilton mercedes jersey. 

“I LOVE IT,” your son cries out, jumping off the couch and crashing into lewis’ awaited hold. as he hugs your son, you can only smile as this night had gone better than you’d hoped. 

‘thank you’ you mouth towards lewis, who only laughs and smiles in your direction, hugging your son closer to his body. everything would be fine. lewis was ready for forever with you. and you had just seen your forever fully accept him into your lives. 

-