#loveandhateposts

yourusername

Liked by f1 the album, mclaren, y/nhq, lando and 5,370,241 others

yourusername just keep watching…

first, i’d like to thank everybody for making this possible and i am so happy to have written the piece ‘just keep watching’ for the f1 movie, it really is an honour!

secondly, thank you to our special guest lando for driving around in circles whilst we tried to get the perfect shot!

user i suddenly like formula 1

user i was NOT expecting this

f1 we will keep watching -> liked by author

y/nhq icon behaviour as usual -> liked by author

user i NEED more than just this little snippet!

mclaren we can’t even be made that you stole our driver for this -> liked by author

-> yourusername yeah, sorry about that one

user my question is why did she chose lando for this and not oscar??

-> user from what i’ve heard, i feel like this song is more lando coded

-> user oscar would never do something like this with his own free will

-> user oscar would by far too awkward around her

user Y/N x LN4!!!

lando i do look good don’t i? -> liked by author

-> user yes, yes you do

-> user MARRY ME LANDO!!!

user QUEEN

f1 the album it was an honour to have you —> liked by author

y/nhq

Liked by lando, user, arianagrande and 3,485,061 others

y/nhq behind the scenes of the ‘just keep watching’ music video which you can also stream on spotify now!!!

user you ani’t buying in?

-user just keep watchingggg

arianagrande absolutely loved it! —> liked by author

-> yourusername i love you!

lando i wouldn’t be opposed to filming another music video with you

-> yourusername i guess your company wasn’t that atrocious

-> user well what is this?

-> user i don’t even know

-> user the friendship we didn’t know we needed

user will we ever get another music video with lando??

-> yourusername you’ll have to just keep watching to find out

yourusername

Liked by ninadobrev, zaralarsson, gracieabrams and 345,062 others

yourusername supposed to be on stage, but fuck it, i need a minute. change my mind so much it’s exhausting…

‘revolving door’ is now available on spotify!

user something about ‘fuck me good, fuck me up, then i gotta move towns’ did something to me

-> user and ‘say i couldn't want you less, but i just want you more’

-> user and ‘i still think about that night out in boston’

-> user the whole song was iconic

-> user wait wasn’t ‘just keep watching’ filmed in boston?

gracieabrams 🤍 -> liked by author

ninadobrev still waiting to see you at a grand prix

-> yourusername maybe soon -> liked by mclaren

user why was i expecting another post with lando

-> user she’s literally only posted two photos of him for F1 song content

-> lando i don’t know, why were you? -> liked by author

mclaren

Liked by oscarpiastri, y/nhq, f1 and 2,408,156 others

mclaren three out of the many times lando was caught interacting with our special guest over the weekend.

user SPECIAL GUEST??? WHO???

oscarpiastri what do you have to say for yourself lando?

-> lando i have done nothing wrong, i was just being welcoming

-> oscarpiastri sure sure

-> user WELCOMING WHO

-> user oscar knows something we don’t -> liked by oscarpiastri

user why is y/nhq in the likes?

-> user probably to keep up pr after the f1 movie

-> user maybe…

user he was definitely looking at oscar

-> user #LANDOSCAR for life

user what are the chances they invited y/n? -> liked by mclaren

yourusername

Liked by mclaren, lando, oscarpiastri and 4,323,978 others

yourusername what a weekend!

ninadobrev finally!! it was so good to see you! -> liked by author

-> yourusername it was so good to see you too!

user not all of the mclaren lot in the likes -> liked by mclaren, lando and oscarpiastri

user mclaren is enjoying this far too much

user i was a bit skeptical but there’s now no way that mclaren didn’t invite y/n to the race

user wait is that lando’s car in the third pic?

-> user i think so, and i also think it’s his car in the first one as well because he did win the race

y/nhq glowing as always -> liked by author

lando nice scenery

-> yourusername nice car

-> oscarpiastri oh lando…

y/nsource

Liked by user, y/nupdates, oscarpiastri and 3,893,275 others

y/nsource singing icon, y/n y/l/n and mclaren’s golden boy, lando norris supposedly together? here’s everything we know:

lando norris agreed to be apart of y/n’s music video for the f1 movie (just keep watching) and then was posted by y/n on her main account and then by admin on her hq account.

in the post that y/n posted with lando, he commented ‘i do look good, don’t i?’ and y/n liked it.

then under y/n’s hq account lando commented ‘i wouldn’t be opposed to filming another music video with you’ to which y/n replied ‘i guess your company wasn’t that atrocious’ flirting????

not long after that, y/n released the song ‘revolving door’ which contains the lyrics ‘i still remember that night back in boston’ boston being where the filmed the music video for ‘just keep watching’ coincidence? i think not.

after that, on the most recent race weekend, mclaren posted a photo dump of lando laughing and smiling captions ‘three out of many times lando was caught interacting with our special guest over the weekend’ and in the comments oscar and lando had a cryptic but short conversation about landos intentions and mclaren was seen liking a comment about inviting y/n.

less than 24 hours after this, y/n also posted a dump captioned ‘what a weekend!’ which contained two pictures of what we believe to be landos car alongside one of herself. said post was liked by oscar piastri, lando himself and mclaren.

in that same post, lando commented ‘nice scenery’ referencing to her photos and y/n replied with ‘nice car’ and then below that oscar piastri, lando’s teammate, commented ‘oh lando…’

what do you guys think???

user why is everyone putting so much thought into this? does it even matter?

user oscar we see you in the likes

-> user he definitely knows something

user i didn’t even realise there were so many signs

user are we all just going to ignore the fact that it could all be pr??? are we really going to be that oblivious

-> user i don’t think it is pr…

-> user there is absolutely no way this is pr

-> user how would you know, are you them?

yourusername

Liked by lando, y/nhq, mclaren and 7,459,898 others

yourusername you ani’t got no mrs, oh but you got a sports car…

‘sports car’ potentially coming out this sunday!

user there’s a race this sunday…

-> user so?

-> user i have a feeling the timing of the release has something to do with the result of the race on sunday

-> user you might be onto something… especially after that post from y/nsource

y/nhq we’re looking forward to the release of this one 👀

user this is going to be iconic

-> user when is she not iconic?

lando i hope to see you at the race?

-> yourusername where else would i be?

-> user OH MY GOD

-> user IS THIS THE CONFIRMATION WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR???

user lando what have the two of you been doing in your sports car -> liked by author and lando

y/nsource

Liked by y/nhq, user, oscarpiastri and 1,255,096 others

y/nsource to everybody’s surprise, y/n did a small private concert in the mclaren f1 garage!!! according to our sources she sang sports car through and through and was also seen getting very cozy with lando norris…

user oscar and y/n’s hq just openly nodding along to all of the allegations atp -> liked by oscarpiastri and y/nhq

oscarpiastri cozy is a dull way of putting it.

-> user ???

-> user what’s that meant to mean oscar?

-> oscarpiastri i mean im not saying that they were ALL over each other but im not not saying that they were ALL over each other

-> user DEAR GOD

-> y/nhq we saw what you did there…

user after oscar literally saying that y/n and lando were all over each other, do we think something happened between them??

-> user girl did you not here that 11 second snippet of sports car?

-> user ‘thinkin’ about what we did before this verse

-> user ‘on the corner of my bed and maybe ON THE BEACH!!!’ like there’s no way something hasn’t happened -> liked by oscarpiastri

-> user NO GUYS, YOU’RE FOCUSING ON THE WRONG THING SHE LITERALLY SAID ‘you can do it on your own, while your looking at me’ LIKE WHAT?!?!!?

lando

Liked by yourusername, y/nhq, oscarpiastri and 8,514,892 others

lando a beautiful win, a beautiful performance and my beautiful girl 🤍

sports car is available on Spotify now!!

user …

yourusername they were all for you <3

lando i love you <3

yourusername 🤍🤍🤍

-> lando 🤍🤍🤍

user i expected it and my jaw still dropped

oscarpiastri i would say finally but it’s only going to get worse isn’t it? -> liked by lando

-> lando you know me far to well oscar

alexandrasaintmleux i expect to be seeing more of y/n in the paddock -> liked by yourusername

-> ninadobrev i second to that

-> lando i third to that

-> yourusername you’ll be seeing a lot more of me i promise

-> ninadobrev hush lando she’s literally your girlfriend

mclaren we love seeing our favourite girl

-> lando back off admin, she’s mine

user finallyyyyyyyy

user we’ve been waiting FOREVER

user y/nlando on top (of me)

-> lando no thanks, she’s all mine

-> yourusername everybody knows lando, i you don’t have to keep telling everyone

-> lando stop telling everyone you’re mine? is that what your asking me to do?

-> yourusername yes

-> lando i love you, but no

love and hate

“Easy there, love.” Lando chuckles as you run up to him, throwing yourself into his arms, eager to see him after what felt like a lifelong race weekend that you didn’t attend. He catches you effortlessly, his muscular arms wrapping around your waist to support you as you bury your neck into his neck, reveling in the familiarity of his scent as he kisses you on the forehead. “Miss me much?”

“More than you will ever know.” You mumble into him as he shuts the door to your shared apartment–in Monte Carlo, Monaco– with a soft click. He carries you further into the open space yet ignores the kitchen, dining and living room entirely, instead making his way towards the shut door on the right hand side; your bedroom.

“Lando?” You say as he pushes open the door and enters, being careful so that no part of your body collides with the door frame.

His eyes snap down to you as soon as he hears you speak and he acknowledges you immediately. “Yes, love?”

“Could we just… could we just take tonight a bit slower, please?” You ask quietly, your body aching from pushing yourself too hard over the weekend as he places you down onto the bed, and you know that you wouldn’t be able to handle anything intimate tonight.

He doesn’t reply for a minute as he takes off his McLaren tee, leaving him shirtless and in nothing but black joggers that are sitting so low on his hips that you can see his v-line and the waistband of his Calvin Klein boxers. You worry that you’ve upset him and instantly wish that you could redact your question and pretend that you had never asked it.

He proceeds to lay down next to you in silence and just as you go to say something like ‘nevermind’ or ‘forget I said anything’, he speaks. “Like a movie?” He asks gently.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.” You reply, letting out a deep breath that you didn’t even realise you were holding in.

Lando leans over to the bedside table, grabbing the TV remote from the top draw and flicks the TV on before passing the remote to you. “Of course I don’t mind. Go on, you can pick, love.”

You begin to search for a film, flicking from genre to genre and then app to app. Lando pulls you in closer so that your head is resting right above his heart and you allow his steady heartbeats to ground you. He wraps his arms around you tightly, providing a layer of warmth to your currently constantly cold skin. 

Eventually, you end up on Disney+, hovering over one of your favourite Disney films–Princess and the frog– as Lando runs his fingers up and down your arm lazily. “This one?” You ask him and he nods, signalling at you to press play nonchalantly like he doesn’t get so invested in whatever you put on to the point where he starts guessing the star signs of the characters.

The movie plays for a while; Lando’s fingers run up and down your arm so consistently to the point where you don’t even think he realises that he’s doing it anymore, your body aches with that same thudding pain and Lando’s stomach growls a couple of times. At first he just ignores it, attempting to focus on the movie, joking about how one of the fireflies is definitely a scorpio like him. Yet at one point his stomach growls extremely loudly, and he decides that he can’t take it anymore.

“For fucks sake, I’m ordering us food.” He murmurs, sliding his hand into his pocket and slipping out his phone, tapping away for a couple of seconds before it starts to ring.

You zone out whilst he places the order; your stomach churning and your thoughts whirling. You had been doing so well at restricting the past weekend, you even didn’t go to the race so that you wouldn’t be tempted to try all of the foreign food, so why did Lando now have to order in?

He speaks on the phone for a while, being picky about the order but all you can think about is the overwhelming sense of dread that washes over you. You feel your heart rate pick up and you fight the urge to let the tears that are welling up in your eyes slide down your cheeks. You were doing so well and now all of your progress was going to be ruined. You feel a small pang of shame; you had promised Lando that you wouldn’t go back to this, that you’d talk to him, but it’s just not that easy.

Lando throws his phone down onto the bed somewhere after ending the phone call and plants a kiss on your forehead; one of his favourite forms of physical affection. “They said that pizza would be here in a bit, okay?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak without bursting into tears as you inhale a shaky breath.

The next few minutes go by in a blur; Lando absent-mindedly stroking your hair and you nodding along to his silly jokes, his contagious laughter not spreading to you like it normally does. He squeezes you again, one his silent ‘I love yous’ but the action pushes you over the edge and you scramble off the bed hurriedly, making your way over to your ensuite bathroom. The last thing you wanted was for Lando to see you crying over something so immature.

“Love?” He calls out to you, sitting up as his eyes follow you across the room but you ignore him, locking yourself in the bathroom.

A tear rolls down your cheek and a choked sob escapes your lips. Why couldn’t you just be a normal person and eat normal food? You thought, furiously wiping away the waterfall of tears that are flooding down your face.

On the other side of the door, Lando is quick to get up, making his way over to the door instantly and trying to talk to you. “Love? What’s wrong? Come out and talk to me, please, did I do something?” His voice cracks on the ‘please’ due to how much he hates seeing you in any level of pain. It hurts him. Even if he doesn’t know why you’re upset.

“I’m fine. Go away.” You snap and immediately feel guilty, wanting to take it back but you just can’t. You don’t hear him move away from the door so you call out again. “Leave me alone, Lando!” You shout as you stare at yourself in the mirror, disgusted by what stares back at you in the reflection.

“I’m not going anywhere. It’s clear you’re upset. Just open the door. Please, baby.” You don’t respond but he can hear the muffled sound of your crying through the door. “Come on, baby, just open the door, let me help you. Please.” He begs, distraught by the fact you're so upset but won’t tell him what’s wrong so that he can try to fix it.

“Leave me alone.” You whisper, sliding down the bathroom cupboards until you hit the floor. You curl your knees up to your chest and continue to sob. Why, just why, did you have to undereat and restrict just to feel semi-pretty? You wanted to feel pretty, happy, loved, and not just when you were with Lando but all the time. You wanted to love yourself all the time.

Lando tries to get to you the only way he knows how, knowing that you don’t love yourself in the way that he loves you. “I love you so fucking much, you know that right? I’d throw away everything, everything, if it meant that I could love you for love you for the rest of my life and everybody knows it. Everybody knows that I’d drop everything in a heartbeat for you, because the love that I feel for you? It’s undeniable. My love for anything else; Formula One, McLaren, racing, nothing, none of it, could even come close to competing with my love for you because you’d win. Every fucking time, love.”

You let his words sink in. Lando loves you, like actually loves you, in a way that no one ever has before and you love Lando, more than you love yourself. Maybe, just this once you think, you could let Lando love you like he so desperately wants to.

“I’ve been doing it again.” You admit, wanting to stop talking so badly but you can’t, he needs to hear this. You need to say it. “I’ve been skipping meals again. I didn’t mean to, I was meant to come to you, I was meant to ask for help but I just… couldn’t. It felt so euphoric and so depleting at the same time and I don’t think I want to stop but I can’t keep living like this, Lando. I can’t keep doing this.”

“Then let me in. Let me help you. Let me love you.”

And for the first time in a long time, you let him in; both physically and metaphorically.

love and hate

The entire drive here had been in complete silence. But now, in the middle of a deserted car park in the pitch black other than the faint glow of streetlights through the foggy windows, the silence is deafening. You break the silence first, watching Lando tap his fingers against the steering wheel and his eyes trained on the landscape ahead of him. 

“We shouldn’t have to do this. Not here. Not now.” You say and he opens his mouth to speak but you continue talking. “No, we shouldn’t be forced to talk about our relationship in the middle of the night because you don’t want anyone to know about me.”

“Don’t fucking be like that. You know that it’s not about you, it’s about your safety. You see how the media pick people apart. I’m trying to protect you from that.” He says, gripping the wheel, his jaw clenched but he still doesn’t look over to you, not even when you look at him.

“I don’t need protection! I’m not your child!” You shout, exasperated. 

“You're right, you’re not! You’re my girlfriend and that means I want to protect you from the media driving you to your breaking point over the things they’ll say about us!” He finally looks at you, chest rising and falling rapidly with anger as he holds eye contact with you, his hand brushing yours on the console as he removes his hand from the steering wheel.

The silence makes a reappearance; it’s heavier, more charged now. His gaze lingers for a few seconds too long, there’s something burning in his eyes and right now? You’re not even sure it’s anger.

“You think I don’t know what the lies and the secrets do to you? You don’t think I see you trying not to smile when they’re showing you watching me on camera? You think I don’t fucking know?” He mutters, voice low, almost a growl, as if the anger in his chest is trying to mask something else entirely.

“Lando, I–” You start but he cuts you off instantly, seemingly having made a decision; his hand snakes around to the nape of your neck and tugs you in, crashing your lips onto his.

The kiss is rough and demanding. To the point where you can tell that, under the surface, he’s fuming that even a single cell of yours thought that this could be about him being ashamed of you. He unbuckles his seatbelt, leaning over properly so that he can deepen this kiss, his fingers gripping the hair at the base of your neck.

When you pull back for air, you’re breathing heavily, and there’s an emotion you can’t place crossing his face. “Fucking hell. Are you even able to comprehend, on any level, what you do to me?” 

You give a small shake of your head and he groans, actually groans. “Backseat, now.” 

You slide over the console effortlessly and he follows quickly, sliding his hoodie over his head before attacking your lips again. He slips his hand onto your thigh, feeling the goosebumps that spawn immediately at his touch and you let out a soft sound of approval into the kiss, his hands working the hem of your pyjama shorts. 

The glow of the streetlights is suddenly trapped by the fog clouding the windows, Lando’s figure feeling more like a silhouette than him. 

“You don’t get to think–” He kisses along your jaw. “That I’m ashamed of you, when you have me going fucking crazy over the fact that I can’t tell the world that your mine.” His voice sounds tired, so tired of hiding you, but he also sounds so alive at the same time. A shiver runs down your spine at his words. “Was this your plan all along? Rile me up so that I would fuck you?” He asks, tugging the fabric off of your shoulders whilst taking your firm breast into his palm, brushing his thumb over your hard nipple. 

The motion makes you jolt forward from sensitivity, your head falling onto his chest and he just chuckles, pushing you back against the door. Your hair catches against the condensation on the window but neither of you notice that; your only focus is each other. 

“Always so sensitive for me, in every way possible.” He brings his mouth down and latches onto one, using his hand to please the other as he swirls your nipple in his mouth. You let out a small whimper whilst looking anywhere but at him, trying to hold back but he pulls away, gripping your chin and making you look at him. “Don’t do that. Look at me whilst I’m making you feel good, baby.” 

As soon as he realises that you’ll maintain eye contact without being held there his grip loosens, falling back to your breast and his mouth returns to pleasing you.

“Lando–” You moan as he nips at your nipple and he murmurs something along the lines of ‘good, just like that’ but he hardly lifts from you to say it so you're not quite sure. The look in his eyes is wild as he does it, his eyes not once leaving yours just like he made you do for him and you’d be lying if you said that his eyes weren’t making you soaked.

He switches. His saliva coating his hand as he begins rubbing your other breast and you arch your back, pushing them further into his mouth. 

You try to hold it back, you really do but you begin to twitch, your body jolting in uneven movements as the ache builds. 

A singular pinch. That’s all it takes. A singular pinch on your right nipple and you're sent slumping into his chest; body shaking, nipples sensitive as they collide with Lando’s bare skin and your breathing shallow.

The streetlight flickers a couple of times, almost resembling your climax as Lando holds the back of your head, fingers threading through your slightly damp and tangled hair.

His hands slither up your thighs, parting your legs with tortuous delicacy but you can’t bring yourself to look at him so you bury your face in your hands, ashamed at your premature orgasm. He freezes when he gets to your heat, fingers settled along your slick and your shorts soaked with your come. You bury your face deeper into your hands, feeling your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

He chuckles. “That’s it? That’s what made you come?” He teases, brushing a thumb over your wet nipple and you wince, trying to snap your thighs shut. “Look at me.” He demands, a smirk playing on his lips. “Did you come from just this?” You pull your hands away from your face just as he pinches your nipple, sending a tingling spark of pleasure through your body.

“Yes, I-” You try to explain yourself but nothing comes out. Your cheeks sting and you try to hide your face in your hands again but he grabs your wrists.

“Pathetic. Fucking pathetic.” He pulls them away and they fall limp at your sides as soon as he lets go of them and he leans down to work between your thighs; switching between licking up your juices, peppering kisses along your skin and blowing warm gusts of air onto your dripping cunt.

“Lan, stop being a tease.” You whimper as you try to buck your hips, but it’s no use, his hands are stationed on each one of your thighs and he’s so much stronger than you.

“Tease? Baby, by the looks of it, you don’t need any teasing.” He smirks to himself, sucking on your sensitive clit skillfully, making you cry out in pleasure and shake like it’s your first ever time.

You never managed to last long when it was Lando pleasuring you.

You lace your fingers through the curly strands of his hair, moaning inaudible praise under your breath whilst Lando adds a finger, curling it at just the right angle that makes you throw your head back against the window. Again. 

“Lan…” You cry out, fighting with all your might against his grip so that you can grind against his face, and for a second it works. For a second he lets you grind up into him, chasing that release that you so desperately need. Then his hands clamp down on your thighs again, pushing them down into the smooth leather seats of his car and he chuckles as you whine.

Yet his movements don’t slow, if anything, they speed up. 

His tongue laps around your needy cunt like he needs it to survive and his fingers curl so perfectly that you fight the urge to joke and ask if he had a map. 

“Is my girl going to come for me?” He asks, grin cocky as he drags you to the brink of release, watching you nod frantically through his eyelashes like he’ll expect anything that doesn’t come in words. “Hm? I’m not hearing anything.” Tears slip down your cheeks as he continues to please you and the words refuse to form in your mouth. 

Lando pulls away abruptly and you whine. “I asked you a question.” 

“Yes, yes please Lan please. I need to come.” You beg, your thighs shaking beneath his hands as the words tumble past your lips like you have no control over them. 

The smirk playing on his lips is undeniable and his tongue darts out, swiping across his soaked lips. “Yeah, is that what you want? You want to make a pretty mess all over my tongue after claiming I’m ashamed of you?”

“Lan, I didn’t mean it, I promise. Please, I need to come. Please.” You continue to beg but Lando doesn’t budge.

“You did mean it though didn’t you? And that’s okay because I’m going to make sure that you never think that I’m ashamed of you ever again.” He dives back into your cunt, making you cry out in shock as stars blur your vision and you moan an incoherent mixture of words as well as your favourite nickname for him.

He pumps his fingers back into you and your back arches off of the door handle, this time he allows you to grind into his face by loosening his grip on you.

“Is my girl going to come for me?” He repeats and you don’t make the same mistake as last time, immediately replying with high-pitched pleas and the repetition of his name that makes him grin even more every time it rolls off of your tongue. “Go on then, show me how good I make you feel.” He commands, continuing to pleasure you with his fingers but meeting your eyes so that he can watch the way you come undone for him.

Your fingers fall limp, tangled in his curls as your second orgasm of the night passes over you, sending an unmistakable tremor through your body as Lando holds you through it – his face soaked and his fingers still buried deep inside of you.  

“Lando…” You murmur, pushing against his chest making him fall back against the interior of the back seat of his car and he quickly removes his fingers from within you, thinking that something is wrong.

“Yes, baby?” He attends to you immediately, hands finding yours straight away but you pull your hands away from him and begin tugging at his joggers in a rushed, almost urgent manner. “Baby? What’s wrong?” 

Your hands clasp around the waistband of his joggers, pulling them down in sync with his boxers, causing it to spring free. It hits his toned abs – flushed and leaking and this time it’s your tongue that swipes along your bottom lip. 

“I want– I want to ride you.” You say hesitantly, laying your hands flat against his chest and for a minute everything else falls away. For a minute it’s not about the sex. It’s not about proving that he’s not ashamed of you. It’s not about how far he can push you.

It’s about the two of you.

“Uh– yeah… Yeah, okay, come on then.” His hands find your hips and hoist you up slightly, placing you so that you're hoovering just above his tip that’s leaking with his pre-cum. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes, Lan. I’m sure.”

He lowers you down for what feels like a small lifetime, but when his tip finally stretches you out a cry rips through your throat and your sweaty forehead falls against his. 

Lando slows down at your cry and he begins whispering gentle praise into your ear, still easing you onto his thick cock but just at a pace you can manage. 

The final stretch is painful – you don’t ever think you’ll get used to Lando’s size – but once he’s fully in, you feel unbelievably full. You would bet all of your money that he got bigger, thicker everytime you fucked. 

His hands never leave your waist and he begins to rock you after he lets you adjust for a couple of seconds. Each roll of your hips causing his dick to hit your g-spot and you can already feel your orgasm pending like he’s been fucking you like he can’t stand you. 

“There you go, baby.” He groans. “Fuck, fuck, you’re doing so well for me, okay? Fuck, almost there, I promise.” His head fully tilted against the head rest now and every other word is accompanied with some sort of groan or whimper that falls from his lips, blessing your ears. 

“Fuck, baby, if you keep clenching around me like that I don’t think I’m going to be able to last very long.” He mutters, guiding you to go faster, chasing both of your orgasms like it's a need – not a want. Maybe it is.

You feel him twitch inside of you causing you clench once again and that’s the only warning both of you need that you’re not far off making an absolute fucking mess. 

His breath begins to come in shallow bursts, his movements becoming sloppy and rushed but you can’t find it in yourself to care, the greedy side of you needing the release just as much as he does.

“Lan, Lan– I’m going–” Your sentence gets cut off when Lando speeds up his pace once again, his desire to come taking over him.

“Go on, baby, come with me.” He groans, thrusting up into you, allowing the both of you to come and you expect him to just fuck the both you through it and that be it but no. You catch his eye with a questioning gaze, a silent ‘what are you doing?’. “I think you can give me another one, don’t you? I mean it’s not like I’m ashamed of you. I could make you come all night long.” 

You whimper in protest but that familiar smirk lights up his face again as he continues to thrust up into you, chasing your fourth orgasm of the night, his second.

He has to coax this one out of you, not like it takes long but your bodies are already spent so as the pads of his fingertips burn into your skin and your juices coat his thighs, he doesn’t have to work for this one in the way he has for the others.

This one is easier and harder at the same time.

“I know you can give this one to me, baby. Come on, don’t make me fight you for it.” He rasps when your body tenses, trying to stop yourself from showing him how good he truly makes you feel. “Fuck, baby, I’m not lasting much longer– you feel so fucking good, so fucking good. Come with me, baby, please.” He begs, and it’s a new look on him. 

Lando Norris doesn’t beg.

He demands. He takes

Yet you let your thighs clench around him and your head fall to his shoulder as he twitches inside of you, showing you just how much he really loves you. That he’s not ashamed of you. 

“You okay?” He questions breathlessly.

“Yeah… yeah.” 

The two of you stay like that while what feels like hours past; sweaty skin to skin contact, shallow ragged breaths and an atmosphere that feels a lot more like yours than anything else. It’s not perfect, but it's yours and the two of you probably never will be perfect but that’s okay. 

It’s okay because it was you and Lando against the world, even if the world didn’t know.

love and hate

Lando had never been anyone to do anything even remotely halfway; you knew that, but you didn’t think that he’d go to this extent.

You had been expecting him to take you to go and get food or take you out to do something but you hadn’t expected anything this… personalised. 

The glass panels surrounding the roof-top restaurant are lined with sparkling fairy lights that shine softly. They reflect off of the glass panels, creating a pretty art-like picture and you know that when you turn around, they’ll be catching in Lando’s eyes as well. 

The table is set with fancy silver cutlery that looks like they were hand-carved, beige napkins with your initials engraved into everyone on the side of the intricate swans they’ve been carved into and the plates look like they’re straight out of a movie set. 

The music hums at a perfect volume through the speakers, feeling the air with a peaceful and steady feeling. It’s a perfect contrast to the chaotic, bustling streets of the city down below; a whole world carrying on even though it feels as though time has paused in yours. 

Your hand flies up to cover your mouth as you stand starstruck in the entrance, awe taking over your features. Lando lets out a gentle laugh, hands landing on your hips to steady you as if you might faint from

“Lan…” You whisper but it comes out muffled against your hand yet you can’t bring yourself to look at him, your eyes glued on the beautiful set up in front of you; there’s a tiny square box the plate in the middle seat, presumably yours. 

“Do you like it?” Lando asks, fingers tapping against your hips as he spins you around to face him. He’s smiling so wide that if you saw him out in public you would have assumed that he’d won the lottery. 

“Like? I-I…” The words flow into each other and you begin to feel the tears swelling in your eyes. Lando’s thumb reaches up instinctively. “I love it, Lan, you didn’t have to do all of this for me.” You whisper, pressing your face into your chest and standing on your tippy toes, arms wrapping around his neck. 

A blanket of his cologne wraps around you, coating you like he never wants to let you go. You never want him to let you go either. 

He dips his head down and his lips brush your ear. “You deserve all of this,” You see his hand gesturing to the display around you. “And so much more.” He plants a kiss on your temple before pulling away. “Come on, go open your gift before everyone else gets here.” 

Your eyes dart to the pale pink box. “Everybody else?” You question, raising your eyebrows at him in confusion. 

“Well even though I know that I am amazing company, I thought that you’d want to celebrate your birthday with some of your friends as well.” He tells you, spinning you around so quickly that your dress swirls around your thighs and his hand finds your lower back, guiding you towards your seat. 

“Go on,” Lando prompts, pulling the chair out for you like some old-fashioned gentleman, practically buzzing with excitement as you settle yourself into the chair, fingers wrapping around the delicate pink box. “Whilst it’s just me and you.” 

Your fingers tremble just slightly as you lift the lid. Inside, nestled in velvet, is a gold locket – flower-like engravings sprawled all along the outsides and a shiver runs down your spine as the pads of your fingers brush over them. It’s not that you don’t like it, no you love it but this is something that only someone who paid attention to the little things would be able to design.

You click it open cautiously, not wanting to break it within seconds of removing it from its packaging; there’s a small photo, you and Lando. One you don’t even remember taking, or ever even seeing before. 

Your head is thrown back against Lando’s chest, smile wide as you giggle at something Lando has said and Lando’s looking down at you, unruly curls framing his face like his a piece of artwork but he’s staring at you like you own the whole of space. He’s never said it before but in this photo it looks like he really and truly loves you.

Your eyes flicker to the text next to it, scrawly handwriting feels your vision and it is unmistakably Lando’s.

 I love you, to the moon and back. 

You tilt your head back to where he’s standing behind you and he slowly pries the necklace out of your hands, moving your hair out of the way before clasping it around your neck. 

“Thank you, Lan. I love it.” You whisper.

His hand cups the side of your face, his fingers brushing your jaw and Lando soaks in every one of your features; the curve of your nose, the light lift of your lip on the left hand side and the cheeky glint that’s always somewhere in your eye. He takes in every single little thing about you before he speaks.

“I love you.” He whispers back and with that his lips connect with yours – it’s not rough, it’s not rushed but it’s sweet, loving and you kiss him back. That being your way of saying I love you too until you have the breath to say it back in words.

love, hate and a happy birthday <3

“this win was for you. for us.”

lando

Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 987,261 others

lando what a weekend! a mclaren one-two, some extraordinary moments with fans and, of course, my favourite little sister.

yourusername i’m your only sister lando

-> lando oops

user I WAS ONE OF THOSE FANS!!!

user what a day it was

mclaren our papaya boys 🧡 -> liked by oscarpiastri and author

yourusername i quite enjoyed that. can you do it again next time? -> liked by mclaren

-> lando i don’t know can we? oscarpiastri

-> oscarpiastri i’ll have to think about it

user not oscar saying he’ll have to think about getting another podium

user she looks so pretty!! —> liked by yourusername and oscarpiastri

-> user well hello oscar???

-> user is lando just going to ignore this?

-> user SHE LIKED!!

yourusername

Liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren, alexandrasaintmleux and 325,961 others

yourusername when the team does well so you get to go out for dinner! (also who new that oscarpiastri knew how to take photos?)

alexandrasaintmleux the prettiest girl -> liked by author

user not lando not being in the likes because there’s sushi -> liked by lando

lando i still can’t believe that you chose SUSHI out of everything on that menu

-> yourusername i wanted sushi so i got sushi? i don’t see the problem?

-> lando you could’ve killed me!

-> user lando is so over dramatic, it’s hilarious

user is everyone just going to ignore the fact that she pretty much just said that oscar took the first photo for her???

oscarpiastri i really enjoyed my salmon, how was your sushi? -> liked by author

-> yourusername it was AMAZING

-> lando my two favourite people trying to kill me 💔

-> oscarpiastri you’re so dramatic

-> user wait do we think they planned this as a joke on lando??? -> liked by author and oscarpiastri

-> user YES! YES WE DO!!

mclaren glad you enjoyed it -> liked by author

f1tea

Liked by user, f1 and 1,684,074 others

f1tea racing hotshot, oscar piastri, was spotted out and about with a mystery woman late yesterday evening! a girlfriend or just a friend? the media only got little glimpses of her but many are speculating that oscar has opened a new chapter in his book!

user OH?

-> user THIS WAS MY EXACT REACTION

user is that f1 i see in the likes?? -> liked by f1

user f1 admin are having a field day with this one

user guys what are we thinking? girlfriend? -> liked by author

-> user definitely!

-> user it could just be a friend

-> user GIRLFRIEND!!!!

user it’s literally none of our business

user i’ve not seen him show this much emotion — let alone happiness — in like… forever

user something about the coat gave me yourusername vibes -> liked by author

-> f1tea we’re listening

-> user i think you might be onto something…

user not my dreams of marrying him slowly slipping through my fingers -> liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri

Liked by yourusername, f1tea, lando and 747,181 others

oscarpiastri a quick break before we get back on track

user not yourusername being first in the likes

user i wonder who he’s taking a photo of in the third pic

-> lando me obviously

-> oscarpiastri we aren’t even in the same country

-> user clocked

yourusername i like your hoodie —> liked by author

-> user what a random thing to say yourusername…

-> user whats going on here then?

-> user i feel like user in f1tea’s post was onto something

-> user i lowkey agree

yourusername

Liked by oscarpiastri, tatemcrae, lando and 2,748,107 others

yourusername hoodie dump <3

f1tea WOAH WOAH WOAH WOAH

f1tea ARE YOU GUYS SEEING WHAT IM SEEING RN?

-> user WHAT ARE YOU SEEING??

-> f1tea yourusername IN oscarpiastri’s HOODIE

-> user OH MY GOD

-> user HAVE WE BEEN WITNESSING A SOFT LAUNCH IN REAL TIME????

-> user I THINK WE HAVE!

lando sister.

-> yourusername yes?

-> lando whose hoodie is that?

-> yourusername … -> liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri 🤍 -> liked by author

-> yourusername 🤍

-> lando …

-> lando oscar reply to my messages.

-> user lando is NOT happy

->user my jaw dropped lower than my grades

tatemcrae i have the perfect song for this

-> yourusername do not sing a word

f1tea

Liked by user, f1, mclaren, tatemcrae, alexandrasaintmleux and 5,685,702 others

f1tea just a couple of hours ago, racing legend oscar piastri was spotted leading his alleged girlfriend — his teammates younger sister, ___ norris — into a very fancy restaurant.

user the whole thing screamed date to me

user the secrets out, both mclaren and f1 admin liked the post -> liked by author

user i told you all so in the very moment i saw the coat in the first post you made about them

-> user you were right

-> user i know. -> liked by yourusername

oscarpiastri and yourusername

Liked by tatemcrae, charles_leclerc, lando and 7,429,619 others

oscarpiastri the cat may be out of the bag but i still refuse to share you with the world 🤍

comments on this posts are limited to close friends

yourusername i love you <3 -> liked by author

-> oscarpiastri i love you more <3

tatemcrae can i release sports car now?

-> yourusername yes, yes you can

charles_leclerc finally, watching you soft launch was slowly killing me -> liked by author

lando WAS I REALLY THE LAST PERSON TO FIND OUT?!??

-> yourusername oops?

alexandrasaintmleux so happy for you baby

-> yourusername 🤍

mclaren do we now have to share you with the rest of the paddock? —> liked by author

-> f1 yes you do

-> lando F1 AND MCLAREN ADMIN KNEW BEFORE ME?

It had been an accident, really. You, Oscar, and some of the other driver's hadn't meant to end up back in your hotel room, but a long night paired with far too many drinks with a side of a game of truth or strip had occurred. Although the game was short lived, one thing led to another and Oscar was leaving your room– shirtless– in the early hours of the morning.

Yet those were the events of last night which had absolutely no relevance right now because you’re focused on trying to look your absolute best for your annual pre-season dinner with your favourite drivers. You have Lana Del Rey’s ‘young and beautiful’ playing loudly through your speakers and you’re leaning in close to the mirror, trying to vanish any imperfections.

“And all the ways I got to know your pretty face and electric soul. Will you still love me when I’m no longer young and beautiful…” You sing along to the song, becoming fully immersed in the tune and singing your heart out to your favourite artist. After all this was your Lana Del Rey only playlist.

You lean in closer to your bathroom mirror, guiding your hand so that your mascara wand can glide over your lashes flawlessly, elongating them in a way that only your Charlotte Tilbury pillow talk mascara can. You smile in content as you do it, your lashes and your mascara refusing to let you down once again.

You catch a peek of tonight's dress hanging on the edge of the shower in the reflection of the mirror; a short, black dress that came to just above the middle of your thighs, one that was covered all over in glittery sequins that caught perfectly in the bathroom light. Paired with matching heels that tied at your ankles; the ones that Oscar got you last year for your birthday, the ones that made you wonder how he’d managed to find a pair of shoes that were so perfect.

Young and beautiful ends and the next Lana del rey song comes on; Brooklyn baby, one of your personal favourites. “They say I’m too young to love you. I don’t know what I’d need. They think I don’t understand the freedom land of the seventies. I think I'm too cool to know ya. You say I'm like the ice, I freeze.” You sing along, picking up your hairbrush and singing into it, losing yourself to the music. 

You get so lost in your mini concert that you don’t hear Oscar knock on your hotel room door, call out your name repeatedly or even enter. You’d known that you’d forgotten to do something important when you got back from lunch with a couple of your girl friends. 

Oscar must have heard you singing from the entrance to the room because he makes his way over to the bathroom door and leans on the doorframe, watching you pour your soul out into your baby pink hairbrush with a tiny smile. Yet even as he stands there watching you, you don’t notice him. Instead you continue singing, giving a couple of twirls as you really get into it. 

“Well, my boyfriend's in a band. He plays guitar while I sing Lou Reed. I've got feathers in my hair. I get down to Beat poetry. And my jazz–” You finally stop spinning and land facing the doorway; exactly where Oscar is standing. “Fuck! Oscar–” You scream but on instinct you’d already thrown your hairbrush at the intruder in an attempt to disarm the poor aussie. 

He catches it effortlessly, almost as if he knew you were going to throw something at him before he even entered the room. He pushes himself off the doorframe and closes the gap between you with a few small steps, your breathing is heavy with shock as you try to recollect yourself after that embarrassing moment. 

“I believe you threw this at me.” He jokes, cracking a smile as you take the hairbrush from his outstretched hand, blushing uncontrollably. You try to avoid eye contact with him as you do it, which isn’t hard because he’s quite a bit taller than you.

“Thank you, and uh– sorry about that. I didn’t realise it was you immediately.” You try and joke but you can only feel yourself go even more red. 

“It’s fine, better safe than sorry y’know?” He replies and you look up at him, instantly regretting it because something about the way he’s looking down at you makes you feel an odd sense of warmth. 

There’s an awkward silence that stretches over a couple of seconds before you find the courage to speak again, fighting the urge to take a step back. “Did you need something or…” You start to ask but trail off at the end, unsure on how to finish your sentence.

“Well as much as I loved your cover of Lana Del Rey, I’d wanted to know if you’d seen my top, but it looks like you already found it.” He tilts his head in a motion towards your top, the one you’d found on the edge of your bed an hour or two ago and had thrown on to wear whilst you got ready.

You look down. Shit. This was Oscar’s top. Memories of him wearing it from last night come back to you; the small, orange ‘op81’ on the left hand side on the front stands out against the dark fabric but that was the smallest of the attention grabbers. On the back, big bold and also in bright orange was his first name along with his number. How had you not noticed this when you put it on?

“Shit– uh–” You go to remove it but then remember that you have nothing but a lacy set of burgundy lingerie that covers very little underneath. 

“I can come back when you're done if y’like? Unless you like getting ready in little to nothing with my name and number all over you?” Oscar teases and it sends another rush of heat to your core. Is he oblivious to what he’s doing to you or is he enjoying it? The little smirk on his face suggests that it’s the latter.

“No, no. It’s fine, I just need to put my dress on and then it’s all yours.” You say, trying to save yourself from this tense moment that is doing nothing to help the moisture pooling in your panties. Oscar steps out effectively, without you having to ask, giving you some privacy so that you can change.

You slide your hands down to the hem of the top and allow your fingers to latch around it, taking comfort in the cozy material; no wonder he was constantly wearing this top. It also had a faint smell, you couldn’t quite place it but it was something distinctly Oscar.

You begin peeling the top off of your body but as soon as you get to your hair the top latches onto the first clip it finds and makes itself comfortable, refusing to budge. You fiddle with the t-shirt and the clip, trying to get it unstuck for what feels like forever, not wanting to have to call Oscar in to help but inevitably you just end up making it worse. Leaving you no choice but to face the music and call for Oscar.

“Oscar?” You call out quietly, partially hoping that he just wouldn't hear you but of course that isn't the case.

“Yeah?” He calls back.

“Could you come here for a sec please?” You ask and you hear the bedsheets crease, most likely from him getting up to come help you. 

He enters the bathroom with full confidence, as he does any room but he falters when he sees you, stopping in his tracks and inhaling a sharp breath. His eyes lock onto your bare legs and slowly inch upwards towards the middle of your thighs. Your thighs clench involuntarily under his gaze, begging for some friction. You can tell he’s noticed but he swallows and forces himself to look up.

“Your tops stuck on my clip, I tried to get it out but I couldn’t otherwise I wouldn’t have called you in here but…” You trail off to stop yourself rambling and Oscar simply nods, almost like he doesn’t trust himself to speak in such a situation. He walks into the bathroom properly and makes his way so that he’s standing behind you. 

You remove your hands from the piece of clothing, allowing him space to help you but that doesn’t change the fact that you are still extremely close to one another. He begins to work through your hair and you can feel the warmth of his body due to your proximity, you can even smell his signature scent more now than you could on his top.

Oscar works the top out of the clip slowly, being careful not to cause you any discomfort but all you can think about is what it would feel like if he were to yank you by your hair and have his way with you. The thought soaks your panties more, if that’s even possible and it takes everything in you to not let out a whimper. Once it's out he slides the top back down your back, seemingly forgetting that you were meant to be taking it off to give back to him and his touch is feather-light against your skin as you fight the urge to lean back into it.

His touch hoovers for a couple of seconds at the small of your back, right above the waistband to your lingerie. He pulls away after far too many seconds for you to just brush it off as nothing. You turn almost straight away, letting out a small gasp of air because you’re basically touching. 

You force yourself to make eye contact with him which you immediately deem as a stupid decision because the intensity of his gaze keeps you there and an equally intense heat spreads throughout your body, pulsating at your core.

“Thank you.” You manage to whisper without stumbling over the two simple words but instead of responding like a normal person he reaches up with his hand and cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek.

You look at each other for a second, properly drinking each other in and for that second everything is happening in slow motion but the next? His lips are crashing down on yours as though he physically couldn't wait a moment longer.

You kiss him back passionately, a single kiss saying everything you’ve wanted to do with him for a lot longer than just today. You bite back a moan as his hands feel the curve of your breasts as they make their way down to your waist. Once his hands are at your waist he uses your hips to assist him in pushing you back against the bathroom wall whilst simultaneously making out with you.

Your back hits the wall and you wrap your hands around his neck as he takes his attention away from your lips and begins to work along your jawline, cherishing you like he has never held something so valuable: which is ironic because he’s a multi-millionaire who has probably seen prettier things than you, but to him? You’re the prettiest thing he will ever see.

You tilt your head back in pleasure and he takes that as an invitation to move down to your neck. He concentrates on a couple of areas, trying to see what will make you snap and he finds it quickly causing your body to jolt with the unexpected pleasure.

“Oscar…” You moan, threading your fingers through his soft hair and tugging at it slightly as he nips and sucks at the sensitive part of your neck.

He pushes you against the wall harder, his thumb rubbing teasing circles just below the waistband of your panties. You get an overwhelming whiff of his intoxicating cologne and it makes you dizzy in the best way possible. 

Oscar comes back up to your lips again and latches onto them, making sure to tug slightly at your bottom lip to make the experience even more enjoyable for you. He brings a singular hand up to your breast and begins fondling it over his shirt, squeezing it as if it owes him something. You arch your back in an attempt to generate more of his touch and you feel his hard cock press in between your thighs making your needy cunt clench around nothing.

He uses that hand that was circling your hip to rub your ass underneath your underwear and you moan into the kiss at how good it all feels, but you can’t help but need more.

You pull back from the kiss and he looks at you, breathing heavily, like he physically needs more. “Please, Osc, no more teasing.” You beg, fighting the strong urge that’s telling you to slide your hand in between your thighs.

He smirks. An evil, cocky smirk. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.” He brushes a finger over your slit but pulls the touch away almost immediately, leaving you desperate for more. “Do you want me to pull down these soaking panties and have you come all over my face?” He uses his hand to guide your hand to the large bulge in his shorts. “Or should I force you down onto your knees and have you take all of my cock like a good little whore?”

You don’t answer with words, instead you remove your hand off of his cock and try to rub your swollen clit because the ache is becoming unbearable. Yet he catches your hand just above your most sensitive area, preventing you from doing anything about your heat.

“Fucking whore.” He murmurs, sinking down onto his knees at a frustratingly slow pace before looking up at you. “You tell me to stop and I will, okay?” He asks and you nod but for him that’s not enough. “I need words, pretty girl, even if it’s you telling me that you want to stop.” 

“Yes, Oscar, I want this.” You reply breathlessly.

He slides his hands up the backs of your thighs and yanks your underwear down, leaving your soaking cunt bare for him. He slips them off past your feet and shoves them into his pocket, as though he’s saving them for later. He nudges your legs open and braces himself with one hand against your thigh.

Oscar doesn’t hesitate. He lowers his head and begins kissing and sucking your thighs, catching you by surprise with the warmth of his tongue whilst he moves higher and higher, towards your heat. 

He gets there pretty quickly, his impatience getting the better of him and he does one long, slow lick along your slit, deliberately avoiding your clit to tease you but once he’s had a taste? He goes fucking feral.

“Fucking hell, I’ve hardly even touched you and you’re soaked.” He says, diving back in to taste you for a second time and your body jerks forward at the action, begging for more but he holds you still with the hand that was bracing himself on your thigh.

His tongue moves in and out of you like it was made for this. Like its soul purpose in life is to pump in and out of you like its life depends on it. He alternates between maddingly slow licks and torturous sucks on your throbbing bud, both of which make your knees buckle. 

“Osc–more please–it feels so fucking good.” You whimper, begging him to keep doing what he’s doing because it feels unbelievably good. 

He groans into your cunt at your words of praise and the vibrations ripple through your body and nearly send you over the edge, the sensation making you cry out in pleasure and you can practically feel him smirking at how loud you’re being.

“You taste like fucking heaven.” He murmurs and the sight of him in between your legs with his lips slick with your juices makes you want him to never stop.

Oscar’s fingers slide into your cunt with practiced ease, curling in all the right places to make you whimper and scream and he sucks on your clit like a man starved. The combination of actions builds a tight pressure in your stomach and you know you're coming close.

“Oscar! Please, I need more.” You tell him, trying to chase your release by grinding on his face but he holds you still, preventing you from doing so. 

“Look at you – fucking losing it,” he teases, his breath warm on your thighs as he looks up at you to see your reaction. “But I control when you come, if you want to dance and sing along to your songs like a little slut, with my name and number on your back then I decide when as well as how I unravel you.” He increases his pace as well as the amount of fingers that he’s pumping into you with and you cry out whilst tugging at his hair, hard.

He presses down on your clit with his thumb, holding eye contact with you the whole time.

“Oscar…” You whimper, needing release desperately. “I need to come.”

“Beg for it, whore.” He demands and you hesitate for a hot second. He must notice because he completely stops moving, he doesn’t remove his fingers but he just stops, leaving you to clench around his stationary fingers.

“Please, Osc, please. I need this so badly, please make me come, Oscar.” You beg, hoping that’s enough for him.

“Whose name and number are you wearing?”

“Yours, Oscar, yours!” You cry out, your legs shaking uncontrollably and Oscar being the only thing stopping your knees from buckling.

“Go on then, pretty girl,” he breathes, beginning to pump into you again with relentless speed, watching your face, your chest rising and falling at an intense pace. “Come for me. I want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.”

His words flip a switch inside of you and release crashes into you, almost knocking you off of your feet and for a moment you forget that you're in your hotel room bathroom because all that matters is you, Oscar, and this. He uses his tongue to finish you off, using it to lap up the juices on your most sensitive parts and you shudder, feeling goosebumps pepper your body. You cry out softly, voice trembling, overwhelmed by the intensity, your world narrowing down to the warmth and wetness surrounding the pleasure he’s given you.

Your mind goes hazy with the force of your orgasm, and all that escapes your lips are broken moans and scattered words that don’t make any sense. He comes back up to your level, holding you upright with an arm around your waist. “Y’okay?” He asks, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You did so fucking well for me and you tasted so fucking good, I can’t wait to ruin you all over again in a second.”

Your breathing is still shallow and sucking in air feels like a chore, your bodies trembling with the aftershocks of the orgasm he just gave you. His arms cradle you with such care, his hands rubbing your breasts so gently over his top but it does nothing to slow down your cunt from getting soaked again. 

“You did so fucking well for me,” he murmurs again, lips brushing your jaw. “But don’t tell me you’re too tired to return the favour, pretty girl, not after I let you come all over my face — with my name and number stretched across your back.”

You don’t say anything but his grip on your waist loosens and you sink down onto your knees, the cold material of the bathroom floor contrasting with the heat that's spreading throughout your body as you become more and more eager to please him. 

“Fuck. Look at you–so fucking eager to take me. I bet your cunt is dripping all over the floor right now, you’re such a slut for me.” He  threads a hand through your hair gently — at first.

Your fingers fumble slightly at his waistband, and he just watches. He’s so hard it’s almost cruel, painful even and you suddenly feel increasingly grateful that he waited so long for his own pleasure. When you finally free his cock, it springs forward — flushed, leaking, twitching. Your mouth waters yet you're unsure how he wants it so you wait for him to tell you–it’s almost like when he’s commanding you you’re incapable of forming a singular thought.

“Open, whore.” He commands and you do.

You moan around him the second he slides in — not too deep yet, just enough to stretch your lips. You feel him pulse already at the warmth of your mouth. His hand tightens in your hair and your cunt clenches around thin air. 

“Eyes on me,” he growls. “Wanna see that pretty little face as you choke on my cock.” You do — watery-eyed, lips swollen, lashes fluttering. He uses his tight grip on your hair to shove his cock further down your throat,  

He continues to guide your pace: slow, deep thrusts as he fucks your throat inch by inch. You struggle a little, drool leaking out the corner of your mouth, but he loves every single second of it.

You hollow your cheeks, take him deeper, use your hand to stroke what you can’t fit. He groans louder now — head tipped back, hips stuttering slightly. You moan softly again and begin shifting your thighs together, seeking friction without thinking.

“Don’t even think about touching yourself,” he warns, voice sharp, yanking your hair just enough to send a jolt down your spine. “You’re here to please me now, not grind your desperate little cunt on the floor.” He pauses, thumb brushing your tear-streaked cheek.

“If you want to come again later, you earn it.”

That makes your pussy clench. It makes your pussy clench so hard that you're filled with a whole new sense of determination. So you refocus — tighter lips, deeper strokes, hand twisting just right, tongue flat under the shaft, working in sync with his movements. You gag again and tears spill down your cheeks.

“Fucking hell—” he hisses through gritted teeth, his control slipping. “You’re making me feel so good, pretty girl, you're such a good slut for me.” His hips jerk harder now — he’s close. You can feel it. He thrusts into your throat and pulls back to look at the absolute mess he's made of you.

“Look at yourself,” he pants. “Drooling, gagging, tears running down your cheeks. My perfect girl.” You moan as he growls, tipping over the edge. “Swallow it all,” he commands.

And you do, obediently, sucking him through it, moaning around his release like it’s the only thing you’ve ever needed.

When he finally pulls out, you're breathless, chest heaving, mouth still open slightly. His thumb brushes over your lips again, wiping a drop of cum off the corner of your mouth.

“Good fucking girl,” he whispers. 

He leans down and pulls you up to your feet, arms winding around your waist to steady you once again. A soft kiss is pressed to your jaw.

“Y’okay, pretty girl?” He asks you but you’re too dazed to speak, so you don’t respond, feeling extremely hazy. “Pretty girl?” He questions again, leaning your head against his shoulder and you find it in yourself to nod, the daze of your mind still extremely overwhelming.

Your weight sags against him and despite how much you enjoyed it, it was very clear that it had taken its toll on you; physically and emotionally, and even if you wanted to go for another round tonight you knew that you just didn’t have it in you. Oscar seems to have noticed that, along with the glazed over look in your eyes.

“Hey, hey. We’re going to be done for today, okay, pretty girl?” He establishes and you whine but you’re unsure whether it’s from pain or desperation, either way he seems to understand. “I know, I know and you did so good for me today, so good. But you need a break now, okay? Just so that your body can recover.” 

You whimper slightly and your knees threaten to buckle beneath you again. Oscar wastes no time picking you up effortlessly, being so careful because he doesn’t want to cause you any level of discomfort, and placing you on a clutter-free area of the bathroom countertop. 

“I’m gonna clean you up now, pretty girl, is that okay? Just with a flannel and some warm water.” Oscar says, waiting for your thumbs up before moving.

“Yeah, m’kay.” You say, the words are so faint that they could just be another inhale of air, but he catches it.

He moves slowly, as though he’s trying not to startle you. He grabs a small, white flannel from the cupboard under the sink and your eyes follow him as he moves, mesmerised by the way his muscles roll whilst he carries out the different actions. He turns on the hot tap at the sink, letting it run for a couple of seconds so that it can become lukewarm before running the flannel under it.

The veins in his arms and hands protrude as he wrings it out and then he crouches down in front of you, parting your legs slightly so that he can clean the mess you’ve made.

“This may sting a little where you’re still sensitive, pretty girl, so be prepared.” He warns you and begins peppering kisses from your knee upwards to prepare you in his own way.

Once he gets high enough he lifts up his top and he drags the flannel along your thighs, his touch feather-light but you still wince slightly as he continues to clean you up. 

“There you go, pretty girl, you’re okay.” He reassures you and reaches up to wipe away a stray tear that slides down your face as he cleans your most intimate parts.

He works in silence for a couple of minutes, sensing your emotional fatigue but just as he’s finishing up you call out to him.

“Oscar?” You ask, your voice raspy.

“Yes, pretty girl?” He responds immediately, looking up to make eye contact with you.

“Thank you… thank you for this.”

love and hate

Lando Norris - LN4 Let me You slip back into old habits; skipping meals, staying home to avoid food, overworking yourself. Yet after a long weekend you and your boyfriend, Lando Norris, are spending some much needed time together but your distress around him ordering food has him extremely worried.

Birthday girl You hadn’t expected Lando to go all out on your birthday, yet he did and sometimes actions speak just as loud as words.

Yours, in secret You and Lando may disagree on what’s best for you and your relationship but in the end you will always be his, even if it’s in secret.

Oscar Piastri - OP81

His name, his number After a long night and a short-lived game of truth or strip, you’re just trying to get ready for dinner the next day but when Oscar Piastri walks in on you singing your heart out to Lana Del Rey in nothing but his shirt and lingerie, things get a bit more complicated and dinner? Well, let’s just say that idea was quickly forgotten

Max Verstappen - MV1

Fuck-ups After an appalling race Max’s temper is short and his skin is prickling with anger, what better way to deal with that other than to have him fuck it out through you? 

Charles Leclerc - CL16

Decaying Seventeen days without blood. Seventeen days of trying to change the one thing that makes you inhuman — all because you love him, but love doesn’t erase the hunger. It just shows you that Charles isn’t afraid to love you, even when you’re decaying in frRont of him.

Everything or nothing Whilst you claw at any chance to gain a sense of control, Charles blames himself for being too much and not enough at the same time, but was it really his fault? Or are you just sick?

SMAU's

For you, for us (OP81) After a very special McLaren podium you and oscar begin to soft launch your relationship to everyone.

The air is thick and heavy in your lungs, wrapping around them like it’s trying to debilitate you rather than help you. You splutter aggressively but you don’t stop, feeling the ache in your knees as your feet hit the base of the treadmill like your life depends on it. 

Maybe it does.

Maybe the twisted sense of control that you demand from every aspect of your life all boils down to this singular moment; the amount of calories you burn right now, how far you can push yourself in this one workout session, how thin you can stretch yourself before it’s finally enough. 

Beads of sweat cling to your body, rolling down your face in jagged movements. It sneaks into crevices of your hands that are gripping the sleek black handle bars of the treadmill in Charles’ empty home gym, your knuckles white from the sheer force of your grip. 

At this point you don’t even realise that you’ve blocked out the sounds of your music blasting; another attempt of drowning out your thoughts. Or the pounding headache that feels like it’s trying to split you open with a thousand mini needles. Or the sound of Charles entering the room.

“Cherie?” He calls, stepping into the room properly yet you don’t acknowledge him, you’re too busy trying to block out your own thoughts to even contemplate entertaining anyone else's. 

He hesitates slightly, pausing mid step, silently watching you push yourself like you never have before. Charles knows that one wrong word could send you into a spiral. Shut-down mode. A state of distress.

Yet was saying the wrong thing worse than saying nothing at all? 

Charles’ muscles tense, a sense of helplessness falling into pace with the rapid pace of his heart and the forced thudding of your worn shoes against the treadmill. He can feel the bright red button blinking at him. Signalling to him. He knows that he should press that emergency stop button. He knows that it’s the right thing to do, but as his rough fingertips press down on the smooth button a sense of guilt tugs at his heart.

Realisation settles over your features as you slow down to the pace of the treadmill – eventually halting to a stop. 

“Charles, what are you doing–” You burst into a fit of coughs, each one tearing from your throat like it’s been held captive and you stumble off of the treadmill, knees betraying you with every step you go to make. 

Charles snakes an arm around your waist and you try to shove him away but your knees buckle once again. Your hands fall limp against Charles’ chest and you lean your head against him.

“Fuck, cherie.” He mutters, lowering the both of you to the floor whilst cradling the back of your head. He looks around frantically for a couple of seconds, eyes landing on your pale green water bottle before his hand shoots out to grab it so quickly that he almost knocks it over. “Here, have some of this.” He offers gently, opening it for you but you shake your head in defiance, pushing it away. 

Charles sighs, running his hand over his jaw in frustration – not at you, but at the situation. How had he managed to let it get this bad? How had he managed to ignore this for so long? How had he managed to allow this to happen at all? 

Your head falls back against the cold stone wall, but maybe it’s not the walls that’s cold, maybe it’s you. Everything feels cold nowadays – dull – like life has lost all of its purpose. Your eyes flutter shut, your lips part slightly and with every passing second Charles can feel the light of your bubbly personality slipping through his fingers. Vanishing into thin air.

“Why do you insist on doing this to yourself?” He asks, mostly to himself but once he starts it’s like he can’t stop. “Why do you insist on pushing yourself to your breaking point? It’s not good for your body. It’s not good for your mind. It’s not good for your–”

“But it feels good.” You whisper. You whisper it like it’s just another sentence. Like it was just another word. Like you didn’t you just utter something that meant everything like it meant absolutely nothing. 

“What feels good?” He asks carefully, knowing that now that he’s said it he can’t take it back. He can’t unhear the answer.

“Pushing myself to see the numbers. To feel the control; the control feels good.” You admit, the walls behind you absorbing the weight of your head that had been feeling far too heavy recently and Charles feels his soul shatter into a million pieces like a glass ballerina finally hitting the floor after falling for a lifetime.

Your words play on repeat in Charles’ mind when your breathing shallows out and your head falls to the side as you fall into a state of peace.

The control feels good.

The control feels good.

The control feels good.

Maybe he loved you wrong. Maybe the way he loved you made you this fragile. Maybe it was the media; deep down Charles knew about some of the things the media had said about you, even if he pretended he didn’t and now he wonders if he was the one who drove you to this point?

Was this all his fault? Did he love you too much? Not enough?

Did he allow the media too much insight into your life? Was it even the media at all? Was it everything or nothing or all of the things that fall between those two categories?

Was it all his fault? 

love and hate