Hi my name is ameera but you can call me meera .I take request and i also mostly write fluff I can write angst but i would probably hardly write smut unless requested
Who I Will Write For
Oscar piastri
Lando Norris
Charles Leclerc
Max Verstappen
Carlos Sainz
Lewis Hamliton
You can request other ppl and depending on who i will write for them
All my banners I will be using are by @bernardsbendystraws
pairing: best friend!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 5k
description: he's beaten and battered, and you just want to help. you have always just wanted to help.
important warnings: 18+ content, MDNI!!, no use of y/n or descriptors, no smut just angst + some fluff, mentions of blood and steve's wounds post starcourt, he only really has the face cuts and a concussion, pretty much in canon universe with some slight changes, big blowout fight, mentions of suicidal ideations, talks of death, talks about anxiety and ptsd for reader, panic attack, using pain medicine, "i love you's" shared, some flirty steve, wearing steve's clothes, talking about dick, forehead kisses, mentions of sharing a bed.
authors note: welcome to the noah kahan x best friend!steve universe! this the second installment of it and this one is filling my angsty grieving heart. i have wanted to write a "fix it" kinda fic like this for steve post starcourt disaster. this one is quite heavy so please skip it if you are triggered by any of the warnings.
dividers by @cafekitsune - part one of this series is here!
There was something about the way Steve sat so still next to you.
Maybe it was the come-down from whatever drug he was injected with earlier in the night. Maybe it was the way his body was so badly beaten that he could not fathom even taking a deep breath. He was unwavering, unblinking.
You knew that your ribs hurt. Your legs burned from the amount of running you had been doing, especially the final sprint out of the mall, as it burned all around you.
The quiet buzz of the ambulance was shaken when Mike Wheeler hopped out of the back to reunite with his mother. You do not let your eyes linger too long on how comforting it must be to have a family looking out for you like that.
His departure allowed the spotlight nearby to shine a bit more onto the bench you and Steve sat on in the back of the ambulance.
His eye was swollen shut, and small speckles of blood mixed into the freckles on his face. They almost looked about the same color due to the hue of the interior lights.
You nudge him with your elbow, the slightest movement to finally get him to face your direction.
He just hums.
“I can drive us home,” You whisper, knowing that there was no way his parents would be coming to his rescue. Your parents were not that uncaring, but they were not in town.
His body shifts a bit, facing you completely, “Once they check you out one more time.”
You were not as bad off as him, but you did not have it in you at the moment to argue with him after the countless arguments you have had with him over the last few days.
You practically weaseled your way into his master plans with the crew. You were still trying your best to establish yourself in his sphere after he started distancing himself more in the last few weeks.
You could have walked away when you found out what they were trying to do. Crack a secret Russian code and expose nefarious intentions. Become American heroes? Somehow?
You didn’t walk away, though. Not when you notice some light in Steve’s eyes when describing everything with Dustin. The code was cracked with the help of you and Robin’s genius minds.
And instead of giving you a lick of credit, Steve advised you to go home and let them handle the rest. Them being a 13-year-old, a junior in high school, and a literal 10-year-old. You were not having it.
You selfishly wanted some glory, too. So you got Dustin to side with you, and Steve did not have a chance in hell.
From there, it was a snowball rolling downhill way too fast.
But now you sit here regretting ever stepping foot in Scoops on your lunch break at the Gap yesterday. Secretly, you just wanted to see if he and Robin were making eyes at one another.
You don’t know why it mattered to you. The moment you did notice the gooey look he gave her last week, it was like a flashback to him and Nancy.
What hell that was to endure and observe.
You did not need Steve falling for someone who also seemed emotionally unavailable.
So glory and a tinge of jealousy got you into a situation where you could have died.
Never again.
A paramedic eventually comes back by, looking into your eyes with a flashlight. When she assesses the scrapes and dings on your body, she seems pretty sure you’ll be fine. No signs of concussion. Nothing needs stitches.
Steve would be sent home with a paper giving him protocols for concussions and wound care. She hands you the paper first, telling you what you should look for in case he does not improve.
“If your boyfriend wakes up tomorrow confused or completely disoriented, call an ambulance.”
You just nod, not correcting her. Steve slips out of the back without another word.
-
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” You mumble, removing the key from the ignition. He has not said a thing since you left the mall, and you know it’s because he’s probably exhausted and in pain. So you stayed quiet, took turns slowly, and did not share your actual thoughts.
Saying you were traumatized was the understatement of the century. And the only person you felt you could be candid and upfront with is Steve.
“Don’t need your help.”
He says it so quietly and with the click of the door in unison, you swear to yourself that you just misheard. He limply gets out of the car as you swing the door open, peaking your head up over the roof of the Beamer.
“What?”
He winces when he has to force the door shut. He looks so awful, it’s almost painful watching him.
“I said I don’t need your help.”
You watch him slowly drag himself to the front door, not far from where you stood. You had his keys, so he was not getting into the house until you chalked them up.
“I’m not understanding.”
“Yeah, that’s a common thing with you lately, huh?”
It’s so bitter-sounding that it makes the bile in the back of your throat reignite. You had felt so nauseous the moment you found Steve and Robin in that interrogation room.
You had seen Steve battered before, but his being high and completely out of it made your stomach permanently churn.
You did not need to unpack all that in this moment. You slam his door shut, squeezing the edges of his house keys into your palm. The pinch makes you suck in a sharp breath.
Steve was mad at you. Still.
He made that obvious yesterday before you invited yourself along on the hunt for the Russians. The way he dealt out the plan and forced you to look after Erica and Dustin. All the while him and Robin took on the bigger role.
It pissed you off, but you were just glad you could do something.
But this venom he’s spitting now was unfounded.
You saved his ass and Robin from the Russians. Sure, you had to move away from the plan slightly to do so, but you still got everyone back above ground. You still managed to keep Dustin and Erica safe, which was his direct order.
Why was he so angry?
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
You stop dead in front of him, extending the keys out to him. Even with the resentment plastered on his face, you hold steady and try not to jump down his throat immediately. He turns his back to you the moment you drop them into his hand that still slightly stained with blood.
“You got yourself in a lotta shit tonight that was not necessary.”
He can hardly find the door handle to unlock at first. He’s swaying as he twists the key into the door, and you know it’s because of his concussion. He still somehow manages to get it open, and the rush of cold A/C almost shocks you back into defense mode.
“I wanted to help! I did help!”
He steps forward into the house, scoffing under his breath. When you follow, slamming the front door, he throws the keys across the foyer. You had never seen him get so frustrated that he throws something, so you brace yourself against the black entry table. He is practically panting as he faces you again.
“You could have died, you know? When you decided to throw yourself in front of Dustin when the Mindflayer came for him. Or when you stomped on the gas to prevent Billy from hitting Nance. Or how about when-”
“I saved them, Steve! You would have done the same!”
He bites, pushing some of his hair back, “I am different! I had it most of it under control, and you stuck your nose somewhere you didn’t have to. I don’t know why you can’t just listen to me!”
You and Steve have fought before. Plenty of times.
Two years ago, when he started dating Nancy, you had watched him turn the tough and cool guy persona up to a million. It made you sick watching the bitterness he had for everything wrong in his life bleed into how he treated people. By proxy, people started looking at you the same way, which made you kind of resent him.
After he allegedly caught Nancy cheating, you encouraged him to just talk to her. Instead, he and Tommy H decided to vandalize the movie theater, spewing misogynistic bullshit about Nancy. You didn’t talk to him for weeks, effectively cutting him off so he could figure his shit out.
When he did come back around begging for your forgiveness, you dished out a good wake up call and told him it better not happen again. Based on his stern expression back then, you knew he wanted to fight back, but he didn’t. He took it. And that was growth to you.
He apologized a million and one times, making it up to you by spending Christmas Day at your house, and offered gifts to you and your parents.
When life resumed, and it seemed like you could find normalcy again with your best friend, things with him and Nancy started to sour. Steve never disclosed the specifics, but Nancy had dealt with losing her best friend, so you empathized with her.
You kept your distance, managing friendships elsewhere. But you always came back around to Steve. He was constantly nearby, lingering when you needed him the most.
The last time hell came to Hawkins, you watched Steve fight demodogs while you sheltered the kids from being collateral in an abandoned school bus. But it took everything in you not to charge into battle and fight next to him with the machete you stole from your Dad’s garage.
He was protective but impulsive. And it got significantly worse when he and Nancy broke up, and she got with Jonathan. He was your best friend, though. While it may have seemed like an obligation to see him through his struggles, it was more of an innate need to. You cannot imagine doing any huge moment in life without him, so why push him away?
Which led to another infamous fight between you two.
It was actually a continuous fight that was usually prompted by Steve trying out a suicide mission on for size, and when he escaped by the skin of his teeth, he would act like it was necessary. When you called him out for being impulsive and stupid, he would bring up the times you confessed to feeling you should have done the same thing as him.
Wanting to help. Wanting to be there for him. Weaseling your way into plans just so you can keep an eye on him and possibly have your own heroic moment. You two were cut from the same cloth, but you valued your life more.
Back and forth you two went until someone said something a bit too far, leading to the week of distance and the make up movie marathon or long drive.
This time was different, though. This argument was going in a direction you had never trekked through, and you knew it before any more words were said.
You needed to decide if you were going to stick up for yourself or try to change direction and just allow Steve to sit with these emotions and discuss it at a later date.
You quickly decide to take a stand.
“You really just want me to sit around and watch you try to kill yourself every time you get caught up in this shit?”
The way he curls into himself when you say that makes you believe that he’s hurting way more than he’s leading on. His knees are wobbly, and his shoulders slouch.
“I do this to protect you! And Dustin! And Robin! And everyone else.”
You cannot fully make out his face because the house is hardly lit. The streams of light through the windows from the outside lamp posts are the only way you can see the flicker of his one good eye, but the rest is up for interpretation.
“We aren’t asking you to do that! Why can’t you accept that maybe you need protecting too?”
“I can handle myself!” His voice bounces off the practically empty walls, “And I cannot lose you, so yeah, of course I have to make sure you’re safe! And I tried to, but you disregarded it all because you’re… you!”
You finally decide to let your true feelings spill out. The real reason you decided to press the subject and not back away.
“You can’t handle yourself! And I’m sick and tired of acting like your martyr complex is normal! I watched what happened last year after Nancy. The spiral? The impulsiveness and the fight with Billy! I watched what happened earlier today when you stormed an armed Russian guard to get us out!”
He scoffs, but you don’t care. You continue.
“I have sat by countless times and let you take control of the situation, and every time it comes at the cost of you! I can’t pay that price, okay? I can’t. You want to die, and I cannot let you.”
“Here we go…” He rubs his face like he does when he’s frustrated, wincing when he realizes that he’s severely swollen and bruised.
“What?” You snap back, moving away from the table your hip had been practically glued to.
He shakes his head, “You and everyone thinking I’m some suicidal idiot.”
“Oh, so I’m not the only one, huh? Why doesn’t it click with you, then?”
“Because it’s bullshit!” His voice practically cracks, which only allows you to see through him further.
“Then what is it, Steve? Why do you do what you do?”
He’s silenced by your question. He wedges himself against the wall nearby.
That wall leads down the hallway into all the empty rooms his house is filled with. No one is ever there to occupy them. Except Steve and occasionally, you.
You watch as he slowly slides down the wall, hand bracing the floor once he makes impact with a small thud. He’s clumsy with the way he toes off his sneakers, kicking them away before finally inhaling a shallow breath.
“You have people who love you. Dustin has a mom who dotes on him. Robin has her parents and all her weird band friends. Every single person today has someone… someone who loves and cherishes them, and I have shitty ass parents who don’t even look twice at me when they are home.”
He looks so terribly small. Like a child trying to shrivel up and be unnoticed in the dark.
It tears you apart thinking about how Steve really thinks about himself. Unlovable. Someone to just brush past and forget about.
What he doesn’t know is that you would be fully willing to risk your life for him because you could not bear to live in a world that didn’t have him in it.
“I just wish they knew me. I wish I wasn’t on my own all the goddamn time,” His voice cracks, and his head tilts away from you.
You don’t waste a second, shuffling over to him, dropping to your knees very ungracefully, and pressing your shoulder into the wall next to him.
He doesn’t move when you guide your hand onto his shoulder. As your hand creeps across his collarbone, he lets out a shaky breath.
Steve has never cried in front of you. Ever.
You lift your pointer and middle finger up, pressing them into the left side of his jaw. You carefully turn his head in your direction, searching his face with narrowed but still earnest eyes. Steve and direct eye contact have never gone hand in hand. You are very conscious of his avoidance, but you won’t let him this time.
“I love you, Steve,” You whisper. The moment you say it, your eyes well up with tears knowing deep down, that statement means more than Steve probably realizes. His eyes finally dart to yours.
His busted lip quivers as he exhales, “You don’t have to…”
Your finger moves absentmindedly over his bruised jaw, ever so slightly, “I see you. That’s why I’m still here. I get you want to keep me safe, but I need you to be safe in order to be okay, alright? So please…”
You don’t know how he manages to gather the strength, but his arms creep up around your waist and pull you forward into his chest. The hug feels charged and heavy, like the words you dared to speak filled his arms with concrete. Your hands wrapped around him as you tried not to put too much weight down on his battered body.
His words were muffled in your shirt, but you managed to make out five words that you would hold onto.
“I love you so much.”
-
Once you manage to get Steve upstairs and in his bathroom, you advise him on how to shower. You ask if he wants you to help get undressed, but he declines and says he can handle it. You don’t push.
When he shuts the door, you plant yourself on the floor next to the wooden door and listen in. He groans out in pain as he undresses, but the sound is muffled once he turns on the water.
You are afraid to leave him alone.
The paramedic did say to stick by him in case he does have bouts of confusion or being disoriented, so you are not giving him many options when it comes to you sticking around.
He’s in the shower for about 5 long minutes. Once the faucet is cut off, you hear him wincing as he gets out and fumbles around in the closet for a towel. When the door creaks open, you look up at him, wrapped in his towel.
His ribs and stomach are terribly bruised, but glistening from all the water droplets. You suck in a harsh breath, finding your feet and stopping him from continuing to walk.
“Steve… shit…”
You don’t touch him, just hover your hands over his left side, where the black and purple is blooming in the worst way. He looks down where you are gesturing and hisses.
“I know, I know,” He mutters, taking a hesitant step forward, “I just need to get dressed and lie down.”
You step out of his way, eyes pulling away from body, “I am gonna find some Tylenol and ice downstairs. Yell if you need help getting dressed."
You pad down the stairs, waltzing through the house you have had memorized since you were 12. You search the cabinet in the half bathroom and manage to find some expired Tylenol that would have to do for the night. You grab an ice pack and a kitchen towel before retreating back upstairs. When you push open Steve’s door, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, still in his bath towel.
“Everything okay?”
“I can’t bend down to my dresser. My ears start ringing and my ribs…”
You nod in acknowledgement.
You walk over, handing him the ice and medicine. His long hair is sticking to his forehead and curling around his bad eye. “What do you need me to grab?”
“Just some sweatpants from the third drawer and a t-shirt from the bottom.”
You smirk, silently thinking back to a month ago when you were practically pinned to his dresser as he slurred and flirted with you. You thought back to that night countless times since it happened.
You pull out what he asked for, quietly shutting the drawers. You toss them onto the bed next to him, waiting for him to say something. His eyes flicker up to you, then to the clothes.
“Can you help me with the pants?”
Your stomach twists with nerves immediately.
But you nod, snatching up the gray sweatpants. You kneel down right in front of his extended legs. If you looked up from this angle, you know your heart would probably give out. You work the pants over his feet first, bringing them up to his knees. His towel is still draped over him, only revealing some of the meat of his right thigh.
“You think you can get them up the rest of the way?” Your eyes avert away as you ask it because you don’t want to catch a slip of something more. He grabs the waistband of the pants and yanks them up to his mid-thigh before standing up shakingly. You keep your eye glued to his side table, acting very interested in the wood grain.
“You act like you’ve never seen a dick before.”
You stiffen immediately, eyes widening up before you even dare to look back over at your best friend. When you do, the smirk on his face tells you all you need to know. Classic teasing just to get under your skin.
“I don’t need to see yours, though,” You mutter, grabbing the bed frame and pushing yourself upward. Steve’s hand brushes over your stomach as your rise due to it hanging off his knee. It’s unintentional, but it still makes goosebumps spread across your skin under your clothes.
Steve grabs his shirt, a twinge of something making his expression shift, “Maybe you don’t need to, but maybe you want to.”
He’s concussed. Severely.
But also, sure. Yeah. You secretly did want to see if he lived up to the rumors that everyone threw in your face about his dick being big. You were just a girl, after all.
You snatch the pain meds from beside him and open the rattling bottle. As you pour out two pills, you practically force them into his hand. “It’s time you go to bed.”
“I’m trying to lighten the mood, Bug,” He murmurs, tossing the pills in his mouth and dry swallowing them. You cringe, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he forces them down his esophagus.
“Don’t think we need that right now. You can hardly move.”
The jokes were better than the arguing or the silence. You still felt a bit pressed about some of the words from earlier, but you would unpack all that later when you weren’t so desperate to sleep and lay down.
You walk around to the other side of his bed, helping him pull down the top covers.
He chuckles slightly as he pushes his right leg under the top sheet, “But you seem to be moving just fine."
You stand up straight, placing your hands on your hips. As you do, you become aware of a twinge of pain in your shoulder. Your faces twitches but he’s not looking at you to notice. “Yes, and?”
He wiggles his eyebrows, dropping himself back onto his navy blue sheets and pillows.
You drop your arms, using the momentum to drop onto his bed yourself, “Keep this up and I’ll make somewhere that doesn’t hurt, hurt real bad.”
He shakes his head, eyes finally shutting as his wet hair drapes around his cotton pillow case, “I don’t think that’s possible. Everywhere hurts.”
You furrow your brows at such a response, “Obviously not your dick.”
He clears his throat, staring up at the ceiling. He wastes no time sniffing your air and scrunching his nose.
“You should change your clothes.”
You cock your head towards him, admiring the side profile you have mapped out countless times. “I don’t have anything to put on.”
Another twist of his nose. “You smell like sweat and fireworks.”
You push yourself up, trying to get an angle on him where he will actually look at you. He finally does shoot you a glare when you are practically hovering over him. “Well then, I’ll sleep on the floor if it bothers you so much.”
“No, just take a shower and steal a t-shirt or something.”
His eyes are closing as he speaks. He is finally comfortable and at ease, and you are pestering. Meandering. Being difficult.
You still attempt to offer a rebuttal, knowing you stink and should not be messing up his blankets with your sweat.
“Steve-”
He puts his hand up, covering your mouth. You don’t know how he does it without looking at you. It’s like his hand could find any part of your body in complete darkness.
“I don’t make the rules. Shower, steal a shirt, bed,” His only good eye peeks at you, “That easy.”
His hand smells like metal and Old Spice body wash. You lock your weak hand around his wrist and gently yank it off your mouth. It falls quickly, immediately landing on your lap.
“I’ll be quick,” Is all you can say as his fingers dance across your leg. There’s no real intention behind it, it seems, just trickling down your thigh onto the mattress.
“I’ll be here.”
-
You scrub yourself furiously in the shower, managing to get all of the dried blood and dirt off your skin. You still somehow feel dirty.
In the newfound loneliness, you start to feel the emotions you were fearful would come about. The dread. The full body trepidation would cause a lingering and pressing spiral.
You watched people die. You saw a creature of biblical proportions, and it almost killed you. It almost killed Steve.
And as if that was not bad enough, you had to walk away knowing that people were walking away without their loved ones. People you did not fully know but had a direct connection to and fought side by side with. They lost, and somehow you had to be grateful that it hadn’t happened to you or Steve?
Guilt seeped so deeply within you that you forced yourself to throw up.
You needed to pull yourself together and get out of the shower. As you do that, you realize that you did not grab any clothes from Steve before you hurried in here. You groan, knowing you would have to trek across his room in a towel to find something clean to sleep in.
When you step in front of the fogged-up body-length mirror, you avert your eyes. You cannot even fathom taking in your appearance right now. You feel unrecognizable already and you haven’t even glanced at yourself.
You tie the fluffy white towel around your chest and take on the task of finding clothes.
The door is slightly ajar, and you see Steve on his side, facing you head-on. You halt in your spot when you realize he’s still awake.
“All good?” He asks quietly as you tiptoe into the room.
You just shake your head, acting like everything is fine. You pad across his fluffy carpet, avoiding much more interaction.
You pull open his dresser, grabbing the first t-shirt that would look like it would fit you. That ache in your shoulder only gets worse when you toss the shirt over your head and put it on. You really do try to be hushed about your whimpers of pain. You turn away from Steve even when his back is turned to you, facing the uncovered window. You stare out into the dark woods, feeling that familiar tension and anxiety in your chest from earlier. You are half expecting to see that giant spider creature to appear and kill you.
As you blink, you try not to let the overwhelming panic take over, but it’s practically leaking out of you. You cannot pull your gaze away from the sway of the trees in Steve’s backyard.
“Do you think it’s really over?”
You don’t move even when you hear Steve shift behind you. He’s rolling over to lay eyes on you, that you know. But the additional sounds afterwards, you don’t expect. Rustling of sheets and then the slowest, creaking footsteps.
The warmth of his palm spreads across your bad shoulder. The pressure makes you flinch, and as you blink, you feel a tear slip from your waterline. You didn’t even know you were crying; your body just felt an unfamiliar emptiness you had never experienced before.
“Yeah, it’s over,” He whispers, “I promise.”
When his hand pulls from your skin, his breathing hitches. “You’re badly bruised, do you know that?”
You manage to pull your eyes from the outside, looking back at him. He is staring at your shoulder blade, something you cannot really examine yourself.
“It’ll be fine.”
You wipe away the lone tears leaking out of you, finally spinning on the balls of your feet to look at Steve. He must have gotten a second wind because he looks more stable on his feet than he did 30 minutes ago.
You don’t know why, but you grab his hands and hold them close to your chest. As you tuck his knuckles right under your chin, you feel this irrefutable calm come over you.
He’s watching you, his hazel eyes hidden slightly by his puffy black under-eyes.
“I can stay up with you.”
You shake your head, knowing he needed sleep to heal that hurt head of his. “I don’t want you to.”
He does not let up, though. “If you lie next to me, do you think you could try and sleep?”
You look over his shoulder to his bed, keeping his hands close to your jawline. His thumb comes around your knuckles and timidly starts stroking your skin.
You don’t think you could sleep, but you would much rather lie next to Steve than sleep on the floor or stare out into the eerie woods lining Steve’s backyard.
So you nod.
Steve pulls you slightly forward, his busted lip pursing to press a soothing and lingering kiss to your forehead.
“I got you. You got me. We are good, okay, Bug? All good.”
Can I req that TikTok prank on lando where the girlfriend says “i think im going to go home” to see their boyfriends reaction 🤗
I Think I’m Going to Go Home
Lando Norris x Girlfriend!reader
Synopsis: Lando panics when you say you’re “going home,” abandoning his game and begging you not to leave — until you reveal it’s a prank, leaving him relieved, dramatic, and hopelessly whipped.
Moonlight Radio: This was so cute to write, I hope u like it
Honestly, you’d forgotten about it entirely until you saw the sound again while scrolling on the couch, your legs thrown over Lando’s lap while he played some game on his PC.
He was in full concentration mode — brows furrowed, bottom lip caught between his teeth, headset slightly crooked because he always pushed one ear off so he could still hear you.
He didn’t even realise he was doing it anymore. It was just instinct: always half-listening for you.
Which made this the perfect time.
You hit record on your phone quietly, angling it so only your face was in frame. You tried to keep your expression neutral, maybe even a little sad. You didn’t want to laugh too early and ruin it.
“Lando?” you said softly.
“Mm?” He didn’t look away from the screen, but his hand slid automatically to your shin, thumb rubbing absentminded circles.
You swallowed dramatically. “I think… I think I’m going to go home.”
He froze.
Like — actually froze.
His character on screen got absolutely obliterated because he stopped touching the keyboard entirely.
“What?” He whipped his head toward you so fast the headset nearly flew off. “What do you mean go home?”
You kept your face blank. “I just… I think I should.”
His eyes widened, confusion hitting first, then something else — something tight and worried.
“Wait— wait, what? Did something happen? Did I do something?” He pushed his chair back so hard it rolled into the wall. He was already reaching for you, hands warm on your knees, eyes scanning your face like he was trying to read every micro-expression.
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.
“No, I just… I think I’m gonna go.”
He blinked. Twice.
Then his voice dropped, soft and shaky in a way you rarely heard.
“Love… why would you want to leave?”
Your heart cracked a little.
You hadn’t expected him to look that devastated.
He stood up, gently taking your phone out of your hand without even checking what you were doing, placing it on the sofa. Then he crouched in front of you, hands sliding up to hold your waist.
“Talk to me,” he murmured. “Please. Don’t just leave.”
You couldn’t do it anymore — the guilt was eating you alive.
“It’s a prank,” you blurted, grabbing his face. “Baby, it’s a TikTok prank. I’m not going anywhere.”
He stared at you.
Still crouched.
Still holding your waist.
Still looking like you’d just told him you were moving to another continent.
Then he exhaled the biggest, most dramatic sigh you’d ever heard.
“Oh my god,” he muttered, dropping his forehead to your stomach. “You’re evil. You’re actually evil.”
You burst out laughing, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry! I didn’t think you’d react like that.”
He looked up at you with the most betrayed expression.
“You said you were going home,” he said, voice cracking like he was recounting a traumatic event. “Why would you say that? Why would you do that to me?”
“It’s the trend!” you giggled. “I wanted to see how you’d react.”
“Well, congratulations,” he said, standing up and pulling you with him. “You’ve discovered that your boyfriend is emotionally fragile and deeply attached to you.”
He wrapped his arms around you tightly — not playful, not teasing, but genuinely relieved. His face tucked into your neck, breathing you in like he needed the reassurance.
“You scared me,” he admitted quietly. “I thought you were upset with me.”
Your chest softened. You hugged him back, rubbing his back slowly.
“I’d never leave without talking to you,” you whispered.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes warm and a little glassy.
“You better not,” he said, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “I’d chase you.”
You snorted. “Chase me?”
“Yeah,” he said confidently. “Down the street. Through the airport. Onto the plane if I had to.”
You laughed harder. “You’d get arrested.”
“For you? Worth it.”
You shoved him lightly, but he caught your hand and kissed your knuckles.
Then he glanced at your phone on the couch.
“Did you at least get it on video?”
You nodded.
He groaned. “Great. Now the whole internet’s gonna see me panicking like a kicked puppy.”
You grinned. “They’re gonna say you’re whipped.”
He leaned in, lips brushing yours, voice low and smug.
“I am whipped. And whose fault is that?”
You kissed him, soft and slow, and he melted instantly — hands sliding to your hips, pulling you closer like he needed you right there, right then.
When you pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours.
“No more pranks like that,” he murmured. “Prank me with… I don’t know. Fake spiders. Fake tattoos. Fake anything. But not leaving.”
“Okay,” you whispered, smiling. “No more leaving pranks.”
He kissed you again, smiling into it.
“Good,” he said. “Because you’re not going anywhere.”
And the way he said it — warm, certain, a little breathless — made your stomach flip in the best way.
Summary: alfie spends a concerning amount of money on you...
ab x reader
word count 2341
based on this request!
THE VIDEO IDEA was Alfie’s. That wasn’t to say you didn’t want to go through with it, you just felt a little guilty. No matter how much he was able to splash out now, it still didn’t feel right having him spend so much money on you. You’d tried telling him as much, but it was like he didn’t want to listen.
You frowned while he set up the camera on his dashboard to do his intro, wishing you hadn’t agreed to this. “Everyone’s gonna think I’m a gold digger,” you whined.
“You are.”
You swatted his arm.
“I actually feel really bad. I don’t want you to spend loads of money on me.”
“Tough shit.”
You sat there with a pouty face as he intro’d his video. You could already smell the comments, talking about how you were with him for his money, or how you were a bad girlfriend for taking advantage of him like that. You knew he’d defend you until the day that he died, but that didn’t make seeing those types of opinions on you any easier. People could be mean.
“Ready?”
You shook your head. “No. Why are you more excited than me?”
“Cause you’re ungrateful.” He was only poking fun at you and you knew that, but you felt the need to make him sweat as payback. The way your face fell made his stomach dip horribly. He folded almost instantly. His arms came to wrap around your head, tucking you against his chest as he dropped kiss after kiss to your hair. “Awe, I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I love you.”
You were still frowning when he pulled away. You would have stopped pretending but you enjoyed the idea of him being sappy in front of his camera, even if he would try and cut it out in editing to make himself look tougher.
He cupped your cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”
Your frown quickly turned into a smile and he knew you’d been playing him. “I know.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fuck sake, man. Making me look like a mug in front of all my mates.” You didn’t think him loving his girlfriend made him look like a mug, but oh well. He looked even worse now though, sat back in his seat with his arms crossed like a mardy toddler.
“Is the big man scared of people seeing his feelings?” you tormented.
“Shut up. Got shit to do, girl.”
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To say today was supposed to be about you, Alfie was doing most of the leading the way. He knew you were going to take a while to ease into it, so at first he was going to have to more or less force you to take part.
You knew the moment he took you into Harrods that you were going to be forced into getting plenty of expensive things that you didn’t actually need. That was the whole point of the video to be fair. It didn’t make it any easier to accept though.
The bag you set your eyes on was breathtaking. Expensive, but absolutely beautiful. A baby pink Dior saddle bag, with gold accents and a little bit of lace on the front. It was everything you never knew you needed in a bag until it was in front of you. But it was far too much money to spend on one tiny item. You tried to look away before he noticed you eyeing it. Almost £4000 for a bag was silly. You didn’t need it— you were more than happy with your £30 one from H&M.
But he did see you, and he wasn’t letting this go.
”You like that one?”
You opened your mouth to protest, but the look he gave you told you to not even bother. You nodded shyly, followed by him shouting someone over so you could take a closer look. And it was even more beautiful up close.
He saw the sparkle in your eyes. “We’ll take it.”
That wasn’t the only thing you picked up while in there. Alfie had remembered a couple things you’d mentioned in the past— usually while you were scrolling through Tiktok and lingered on something. It was a miracle he actually took note.
The staple YSL heels, white lacy Dior heels and a pair of Prada sunglasses that he insisted you needed. It was a lot. You didn’t know if you had ever owned things so pricey in your life.
One of the things making you feel most weird about letting him do this was the reactions of the staff around you. There had been more than one strange look from the older ladies that worked there while he was encouraging you to pick out the bag you liked. You probably looked like his sugar baby and it made you feel weird.
You tried to tuck yourself into his side as they bagged all your items at the till, wanting to hide from their prying eyes as much as possible. Alfie didn’t even notice. All he did see was you pulling out your phone like you were intending to pay and he wasn’t having any of it.
“Don’t even think about it,” he warned.
You huffed, but let him tap his Apple pay nonetheless. There were plenty of people that would kill to be in this position right now, maybe you should just stop whining and be grateful.
You sighed, watching him slip his phone back into his pocket. The bag in your hand was heavy, carrying an eye watering amount of stuff. He didn’t look like he regretted it one bit, especially not when he linked his fingers with yours again and asked where to next. How had you gotten so lucky?
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“Chat, look at this.” He flipped his camera around to show the total on the till. Somehow you had managed to spend just over £1000 in Sephora on stuff you hadn’t needed until now. Alfie didn’t even know that was possible. He knew makeup was unfairly priced, had heard you whining about it on more than one occasion, but he didn’t know it was this bad. “A grand on makeup that you don’t even need.”
You rolled your eyes. “I do need it.”
”She’s lying. Most gorgeous girl ever by the way.” Your cheeks burned as you grinned up at him. Sometimes he could be the sweetest boy ever. “Mogs me even first thing in the morning. Like, just woke up and I’m like fucking hell, you sexy tart.”
You nudged him with your elbow. “Shut up and pay.” You couldn’t imagine what the poor woman behind the counter was thinking right now, and you didn’t know if you wanted to. “Causing a scene.”
You had never been so grateful to leave a shop than that one.
”Can we get matching jellycats?”
You asked him with the sweetest look in your eye. He couldn’t say no. “Sure.”
There were very few options available that screamed you and Alfie. You were close to giving up and leaving empty handed when you spotted the bears. A simple light brown one, a staple to the brand, and beside it a lovely pink one. Even seeing them sold next to each other on the shelf made it feel like fate.
“Awe.” You took one of each into your hands, showing them off to the camera. He didn’t seem impressed. “Look, it’s us,” you cooed.
Alfie didn’t really get the hype if he was being honest. Yes he thought they were cute, and he enjoyed that they made you happy, but he had never been fussed about owning one. “Cute.”
He wasn’t showing nearly enough excitement where you were concerned. “If we get them they can sit on the bed while we’re out. It’ll be like they’re dating as well. Isn’t that nice?”
“Really nice.”
You rolled your eyes, shoving them into his arms for him to carry while you browsed around a bit more. The shelves were packed full with other teddies that you thought were adorable, but they weren’t jumping out at you. Until you stumbled upon the little grey storm cloud that stole your heart the moment you set your eyes on it.
You gasped dramatically. “Oh, my god, Alfie look!”
It was safe to say you ended up leaving with more than just the matching ones.
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“Now we’re getting to the good stuff,” he cheered, showing the Victoria Secret sign to the camera. He could faintly see you roll your eyes, but he was too happy about this to care. Usually he would find it a little awkward going into a shop like this. He didn’t want people to think he was a perv looking at women’s underwear, especially with a camera in his hand, but he was planning on sticking close to your side so they knew he was playing the part of dragged around boyfriend and wallet.
“I’m probably not gonna get anything. So, don’t get excited.”
He gave the camera a look as if to say we’ll see about that. If he had any say in the matter, you would be leaving with no less than 3 new pairs of underwear. He’d already spotted a set on the way in that was stuck in his head.
Just like in near enough every other shop you’d gone into, watching you rummage through things that caught your eye was boring. When suggesting this video he forgot to consider how draining it was going shopping with you.
A particularly lacy, black set caught his eye. He raised a brow, moving the camera between him and the mannequin. He could definitely see you in that outfit, and he would really like to.
You’d stopped walking when you realised he wasn’t following you anymore. You didn’t want to risk him wandering off on his own in here, because you knew when he found you again his arms would be filled with stuff for you that was to his taste. You could see him looking at his camera, showing them something that was probably going to make your cheeks burn.
“What are you doing?”
The camera was now moving between him, the mannequin and you while he waited to see what your reaction to the lingerie set was. It was cute in his defence, but you just didn’t love the idea of his fans knowing what underwear you wore.
“Odds?”
“Out of ten.”
He counted down, with the both of you calling out a number at the end.
“3.”
“3.”
“Fuck,” you said. You kept glaring at him out of the corner of your eye as you found your size in the pile, thrusting it into his arms for him to carry.
He stuck his tongue out at the camera. “Getting lucky tonight, boys!”
“No, you’re not.”
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Alfie finally surrendered his camera over to you during the walk back to the car. His hands were full with bags from various places, providing you with the lovely sight of his biceps bulging out of the sleeves of his shirt. You mindlessly chatted away to the camera, which you were positive would end up cut out of the final vlog, while admiring the sight of your boyfriend ahead.
“Can you manage, Alf?”
He barely glanced over his shoulder, but you could feel the exasperation in his gaze. “I know I said go crazy, but fuck, girl.” The moment you got comfortable with the idea of him spending all that money, you were unstoppable.
He set the camera down in the corner of the boot, letting it capture the effort he was putting in to try and fit all the bags in the small space. It was like a workout, all while you stood there and watched him do it. You were trying to be supportive at least, even while he grumbled quietly to the camera about how he was never being this generous again.
“Alf?” you called. He hummed. ”Do you still love me?”
He hesitated.
You gasped, swatting his arm. “You’re so rude.”
He laughed, abandoning the shopping for a minute to wrap you in his arms. The camera couldn’t pick up on what he was saying, but it had a perfect view of how tenderly he looked at you while he held you.
“I love you so much. You’re my favourite person in the world. No one deserves to be spoiled more than you.” He kissed your head. He truly didn’t know what he would have done without you the last 4 years and he didn’t want to find out. You deserved the absolute world and now that he could give that to you, he would make sure he did so as often as possible.
This time your pouting was very real, but you weren’t upset, just a little emotional with how loved you felt. “Gonna make me cry in front of all your mates,” you joked.
“I’ll join you when I finally see the damage.”
”Shut up.”
The grand total ended up being close to £8000 when he totted everything up, but he knew it was all completely worth it the moment he heard your excitement when listening to you give your friends a haul on facetime later that day.
When you'd shown them everything the emotions of the day must have finally gotten to you. You trudged over to Alfie on the sofa with a pout and teary eyes, nearly collapsing into his arms once you were close enough. You hadn't meant to get so worked up, but you were just so grateful to be loved by him like this.
"I love you," you whispered, sniffling quietly as your tears soaked into his shirt.
He chuckled, rubbing up and down your back. He wasn't worried. He knew they were happy tears. "I love you, too, silly."
If he couldn’t spoil the person he loved, what was the point in even having money?
summary reader has a little too much to drink while celebrating oscar’s win in miami leaving oscar to take care of her after a night of partying where she, unknowingly, confesses her love for him.
warnings alcohol, intoxication, one use of “y/n”, friends to lovers, reader is a stage 5 clinger, oscar’s a lover boy, casual intimacy
a/n was clingy and decided to write - this was the result! not proofread at all but i hope you guys enjoy!! love you all!! i wrote this last year btw 😭
the club lights blind you, making it difficult for you to work your way through the club. you were supposed to be partying with oscar after his miami win, but somewhere between hour 2 and 3 of clubbing, you’ve lost him. worse than that - you’ve lost everyone you were with.
with weak knees you make your way through the club, hazy eyes scanning for the aussie or literally anyone you know. the dark corners of your mind start to take over as you begin to panic. your phone is dead, portable charger in oscar’s pocket. but you’re all alone in the middle of a bright club, surrounded by drunk people and none of them look familiar.
“y/n?” a british accent calls from behind you and you can almost cry in relief. turning around, you’re met with the sight of lando’s confused face, not understanding why you’re alone in a crowd of people.
“have you seen os?” you slur out, interrupted by a couple of hiccups. lando places a hand on your shoulder, pulling your upper body towards him. he gives you a soft smile as you look around helplessly.
“come on, let’s go find him and get you home,” he starts, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. he pulls you along, walking towards booths that line one of the walls.
when you notice the aussie sitting in one of the booths, you wrestle yourself free of lando’s grasp, speed walking to the man surrounded by drivers. before you know it, you’re climbing into his lap, head in the crook of his neck.
“hey sweet girl,” he says cautiously, wrapping one of his arms around your waist. “everything okay?”
“want you. want to go home,” you mumble into his neck, inhaling his scent. you feel him tense slightly under you. his free hand comes up to grab the back of your neck to pull your face out to where he can look at you.
"how much did you drink?" he asks, eyes soft as he takes your appearance in. he lightly pulls the back of your dress down, trying to keep you from flashing anyone.
"not too many," you mumble, looking away. he uses his finger to bring your attention back to him. his brows are raised as he looks into your dilated eyes.
"you wanna go home? back to the hotel?" he asks, brushing hair off your forehead. you nod, forcing your face back into his neck, just wanting to be as close as possible to him. he chuckles lightly, patting your back.
"i just want you," you slur into his ear causing him to shiver under you. his right hand grips your hip, thumb moving along the bone. he takes a shaky breath.
"okay darling, i need you to move so i can get up," oscar says, gently removing your from his neck. you whine, the loss of his warm neck offending you. he chuckles lightly, the hand that’s holding the back of your neck holds you up, preventing you from going back to his neck. his thumb is slowly moving up and down the column of your neck.
“don’t wanna leave you. just want you,” you whine, trying to force yourself back to his chest. he smiles lightly, titling his head.
“baby, let me get up and then we can go to the hotel. you don’t have to leave my side if you don’t want to, but you need to let me get up,” oscar’s voice is gentle, as though he’s talking to a child and not a grown woman. you hesitantly nod, beginning to slide backwards off his lap. he lets out a soft groan at the feeling, already missing you against him.
his hand lands protectively on the small of your back, holding your dress down from sliding up as you make your way to the exit. you’re stumbling over yourself, unable to stand completely. oscar has to basically hold you up on the walk to the car.
“your heels hurting you, baby?” he asks, opening the passenger door for you. you make a little noise, barely audible, nodding. he smiles softly at you, picking your feet up and putting them in the footwell of his car. he carefully undoes the buckles of your heels, letting your feet rest. you let out a content sigh, pulling your feet up into the seat and curling in to a ball.
oscar gently shuts the door, making his way to the drivers side. he hadn’t drank much - a beer and a half and had almost completely sobered up the moment you climbed into his lap. when he slides into the drivers seat, your body instinctively curls towards him, like it’s trying to seek him out despite the console between the two of you.
he gently chuckles, reaching across. his hand cups your face, thumb rubbing up and down your jaw slowly. you make a little noise, eyes closing in contentment.
“hungry? or straight to the hotel?” he asks, lifting your chin so his eyes can meet yours. your eyes a little glossy, dazed over.
“hungry,” you whisper, eyes lighting up ever so slightly. he grins, letting your face drop from his hand. he starts up the car, the rumble of the mclaren under you makes you giggle. he just gently smiles over at you, eyes full of awe.
“what do you want? mcdonald’s, taco bell?” he starts naming places off as he slides the car into reverse. his arm comes to rest around the back of your seat as he looks out the back window.
“taco bell,” you mumble, fiddling with your nails, one on the verge of popping off. oscar nods and gently reaches over the stop your hand from destroying your nails. his hand laced with yours, the feeling grounding you.
“you want a baja blast?” he asks, already knowing your answer. he glances at you, finding you staring at your hand that is intertwined with his. “sweet girl?”
“mhm, baja blast please. oh! and three of those cheesy stick things,” you murmur, glassy eyes a little brighter. he chuckles, nodding as he pulls into the drive thru. he quickly orders and gets the food, starting back to the hotel.
“eat your cheese sticks hun,” he says, gesturing to the bag, which to your surprise has landed in your hands without you realizing. you stare at it for a moment, trying to remember how it got there. after a couple of moments you reach into the bag, pulling one out and gently unwrapping it. oscar watches out of the corner of his eye as you nibble on the cheese stick, eyes still hazy and lost.
“you okay?” oscar asks, watching your slow movements as he pulls into the parking lot of the hotel. you don’t answer, you just stare at the glovebox as you continue to nibble on the cheese stick. he parks the car, turning to you. “pretty?”
“‘m okay,” you mumble, still staring and not really paying attention. your brain has almost shut off after the drinks mixed with the fact that you’re with the person that you love and really want.
"lets go in, yeah?" his voice is so gentle and soft - warm. you nod, letting him take the cheese stick from your hands to wrap back up, slipping it into the bag. he shuts off the car and slides out, gently shutting his door before making his way to the passenger side. he chuckles as you reach up towards him, asking to be carried inside.
"hold your drink and food, sweet girl," he instructs before bending to slide one of his arms under you knees and the other just behind your lower back. you giggle as he gently lifts you, avoiding hitting your head on the car.
oscar carries you through the lobby, not caring about the looks he gets from people - only caring about the girl in his arms. you nuzzle your face against his chest, breathing him in. there’s still a tiny hint of champagne that you can smell, a reminder of his win and accomplishment. you sigh continently, melting into him.
“you okay sweet girl?” he asks, glancing down at you as he enters the elevator. you nod sleepily, fingers loosening their grip on the bag of food. he chuckles lightly at you as he gently tilts you towards the door to hit his floor number.
he somehow gets you to his room, having to ask someone to help open the door since he didn't want to set you down on the hotel floor. he moves through the room, gently setting you on the bed and taking the drink and food away from you. he smiles softly, taking in the vulnerability of the moment and the pure trust you have in him.
"os?" you murmur, reaching for him. he moves closer to you, crouching down to meet your tired eyes.
"yes sweet girl?" he asks, his hand pushing hair off your cheek, a smile of comfort and content spreading across your face.
"want out of this dress," you mumble, reaching for him. he chuckles, a light blush settling on his cheeks.
“you want my help?” he asks, knuckles brushing across your cheekbone. you nod, pushing your face closer to his hand. he lets out a little sigh of content, pushing himself to stand up. he grabs a t-shirt of his, making his way to unzip the back of your dress. he pulls the small straps off your shoulders, pulling the t-shirt over top of your head before pushing the dress down the rest of your body, careful to not accidentally reveal you to him.
a soft sigh leaves your body as the dress is pulled all the way off and you’re left in a t-shirt and underwear. he looks away as you shift, pulling the blanket around yourself and snuggling up into the pillows before you look up at him.
“os,” you whisper, as though you’ll wake people in the rooms around you. he looks at you, an eyebrow raised. “i love you.” he blinks, a little confused by the sudden statement.
“i love you too,” he says, softly as he goes to stand. he starts to make his way across the room to change before you call out to him again.
“osc, i love love you,” you whisper, its a desperate confession, one that you’ve swallowed down for months since you’d realized. his heart races as he looks at the beautiful and slightly disheveled angel in his hotel bed. his wide eyes make you second guess if he felt the same way but before you know it, he’s crossing the room in quick strides and sitting in front of you.
“baby, you’re drunk,” he says, hands cupping your face. you shake your head and swallow hard.
"but i love you. i love you so much os. i don't want to pretend anymore. i just want you," you slur out, your voice getting weaker with each word. his eyes are soft and warm, you could lay here staring into them forever. slowly, he starts leaning towards you.
you push yourself up, connecting your lips to his as he lets out a soft groan at the feeling. you pull him closer towards you, like you're tying to merge your bodies together. you just want him, nothing else in the world. all you know, all you see, is him. the world around you is long forgotten as you feel his body on top of yours, holding you so close. all you know is peace and love in his arms.
"i love you too, so much," he mumbles out between kisses. eventually, he pulls away, leaving you to whine at him. he chuckles, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. "let me change, baby." he moves quick throughout the room, discarding the clothes worn to the club and replacing his pants with a pair of sweats before crawling into the bed beside you.
the warmth of his body close to you makes you curl up into him. you breathe him in, looking up at him.
"can i be yours?" you whisper out, venerability lacing your voice. he chuckles lightly, placing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"yes, you're mine. mine forever," he whispers back, pulling you into him as the two of you curl up together, forgetting the rest of the world and feeling yourselves drift off, entangled in the sheets of the hotel bed.
lando just wanted to sleep. instead, he gets front-row seats to his best friend’s very active night, and escapes straight into yours. he finds out that, apparently, 2am is the perfect time to ruin your life. or fix it.
genre: rom-com, strangers to lovers, late-night chaos, emotional vulnerability, mutual comfort, bad decisions, unexpected connection.
warnings: one sleep-deprived driver, one girl having a really bad night, bad decisions made after 2am, suggestive content, slight breast play (minors dni), terrible timing, mutual pining, emotional vulnerability, A LOT OF SWEARING, sprite zero (not sponsored).
word count: 5.4k
a/n: this pulled me out of a massive creative block and then immediately turned into chaos… but the fun kind. i had zero control over this, but i loved every second of it (no regrets). hope you enjoy!
For twenty whole minutes, Lando Norris had been trying desperately to fall asleep.
He had tried everything.
He’d turned on the TV, some stupid late-night show he wasn’t even paying attention to. He’d put on rain ASMR, because apparently that was supposed to be “relaxing.” He’d forced himself to read half a page of a book, half a page being his absolute limit before boredom kicked in, and he’d even made that stupid tea his mum swore by for “difficult nights.” Nothing worked.
At that exact moment, he had a pillow wrapped around his head and his face buried into the mattress because… seriously. This was impossible.
Another moan slipped right through the paper-thin wall, loud, sharp, and Lando let out a muffled, fake sob into his pillow.
For fuck’s sake.
Look, okay, he wasn’t against a good night of passion. Not at all. Sex was great. He enjoyed it. Fully supported it, even. When Max had mentioned he was going out and had plans for the night, Lando had given him two enthusiastic thumbs up, fully on board.
He liked her. She was nice. She made his best friend happy. He wanted that. Genuinely. Wished them both the absolute best in every possible way.
And, wow, Max had to be really good at what he was doing to get that kind of reaction, good for her, but there were limits. No one had mentioned they’d be doing it right there, under his ceiling, otherwise, he would’ve gone to find somewhere else to spend the night, or convinced Max to take it literally anywhere else.
Lando did not need to be part of—
“Do you like it like that?” followed by another moan.
Okay. That’s it. That’s it.
Ew. Ew. Ew.
EW.
He jumped out of bed without even bothering to check when the pillow hit the floor with a soft thump. He grabbed the white t-shirt draped over the back of the armchair, the grey hoodie, pulled everything on like it was some kind of protective gear, and walked out of the bedroom.
He was halfway to the front door when his brain finally caught up with him, and he abruptly turned around.
He went back, shut his bedroom door, and locked it.
He had no idea what people with their brains completely fried by horniness were capable of, and he absolutely refused to let his beloved bedroom turn into a den of that… absolute filth.
No. Not in there.
Finally, after hearing what he was pretty sure was a slap so well-delivered that he physically flinched, he walked out.
Goodbye.
He didn’t stop to think the moment his feet carried him into the hallway. He didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to process what had just happened because, honestly, it would leave him feeling utterly traumatized. Jesus. What a bunch of ill-mannered people…
Lando just kept walking, fleeing, wide awake at two in the morning when he was supposed to be asleep. Right, perfect time to distract himself with something truly worthwhile. Options, then, because he definitely wasn’t about to stand there looking pathetic in the hallway.
Hmm. He could hit the gym, sure, go to the laundry room, or the sauna, or the hot tub… God knows he could use some relaxation, but, hm, no. That sounded far too much like being productive, which was the last thing he wanted to be right now. Honestly, Lando just wanted to sit somewhere quiet and reflect on his poor life choices. Somewhere with a bit of fresh air. Silence. That would be nice.
He kept walking, each step taking him closer to the outdoor pool. Each step further away from Max, from his girlfriend, more silence, more silence. The doors swung open and the first thing he felt was the wind hitting his face. He even paused for a second, taking a deep breath, before heading toward the steps, his flip-flops echoing against the stone as he took them two at a time.
It was on the last step that he was forced to stop because—
“No, I’m not accepting your half-assed excuses right now. Can you please just leave me alone?”
Wait, what? Who… who… what?!
“I’m serious. Just go away. I don’t want to hear it. Don’t try to say it wasn’t like that, because it was. I don’t want to see you.”
The voice was coming from the patio and, well, now he could see a little more clearly.
You were sprawled out on a lounge chair, a can of Sprite Zero in one hand while the other rested loosely by your side. A pair of sunglasses covered your eyes (at two in the morning?) and a book lay on your stomach. The band t-shirt you were wearing looked well-worn and didn’t match your pajama shorts at all, but Lando suspected it was very comfortable.
His lips twitched in a suppressed laugh and he crossed his arms.
“Wow. That hurts. I thought we could work through our issues together. I can leave, if you want,” he said, fully committing to the bit.
You sat up immediately, back straight as the book nearly slipped but was caught by your quick hands.
“Fuck. No, no—not you. Oh my God, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, finally relaxing as you pushed your sunglasses up onto your head to look at him with wide eyes. “I thought… I thought it was Ellie.”
“No. I’m Lando. Hi,” he said, raising a hand in a small wave. “Just coming to use the lounge chairs in the pool area as well, if you don’t mind.”
You let out a long sigh and gestured to the chair beside you before lying back down. Lando let out a quiet breath of laughter and finally gave in, walking over and dropping onto the chair. He stretched out, hands resting on his stomach, eyes settling on the pool like he had nowhere else to be.
“So… this Ellie upset you,” he said, not looking at you.
You took a sip of your Sprite and clicked your tongue, letting out an audible huff. Your free hand came up to rub your eye before you nodded, even if he wasn’t looking.
“She’s a bitch,” you said.
Lando raised his eyebrows, clearly caught off guard by your aggressiveness.
“Wow,” he let out, almost involuntarily.
“Yeah,” you agreed. “I hate using that kind of word to talk about people, but… wow.”
Finally turning to look at you, Lando stayed quiet, giving you space to keep talking.
“Six months ago I broke up with my boyfriend. Five months ago I moved here, because Ellie asked me to live with her, since my life was a mess,” you said, and he listened closely. As you spoke, you turned to face him, meeting his eyes. “I just found out, about twenty minutes ago, that she’s been seeing him for a year.”
The pieces came together in Lando’s head and he seemed to freeze mid-thought. If he was doing the math right, when you broke up with your boyfriend, he had already been seeing your best friend, the same one who had invited you to move in to make you feel better. That was…
“Fuck, that’s shit,” he said.
You nodded.
“That’s shit. That’s why I’m here. I don’t want to see her stupid face ever again, especially not right now.”
He let out a slow breath, shaking his head.
“That’s… actually insane.”
A pause.
“Like, properly insane.”
You hummed in agreement and almost laughed, but brought the can to your lips. That’s when you realized it was empty, clicking your tongue as you looked at it like it had personally offended you. You set it down on the small table between the lounge chairs and turned back to Lando.
“Anyway. That’s my story,” you concluded. “Now… why are you here at the pool of misery and self-pity?”
A laugh slipped out of him as he rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed. Of course you noticed, because you raised both eyebrows, which only made him laugh a bit more.
“Embarrassing reason?” you asked.
He tilted his head in a vague “kind of” and you leaned in slightly, clearly curious.
“So… my roommate, who also happens to be my childhood best friend, is currently absolutely going at it with his girlfriend. Like… full force.”
Your hand flew to your mouth immediately, and Lando nodded, already accepting the judgment.
The grimace on his face made you smile wide, throwing your head back in an easy, loud laugh. Lando liked the sound. He laughed too.
“At least someone’s happy,” you said, your voice still carrying that laughter as you looked back at him, head tilted to the side.
“At the expense of my sleep, yeah. That’s true,” Lando said, shaking his head. “But I’d prefer their happiness to be… quieter.”
You raised an eyebrow slightly.
“So you’re trying to silence other people’s love.”
“I’m trying to sleep,” he shot back. “Do you know how hard it is to actually have a week off?"
You shrugged.
“Some people do the fucking, others get fucked. The ones getting fucked run,” you said, reaching under the lounge chair for something. “But the ones getting fucked also eat. And I think you need some chips.”
He frowned and leaned over to see what you were doing.
“I need what, now?” he asked, suspicious.
“Give me a second.”
You finally sat up, holding a fresh can of Sprite Zero and an absurdly large bag of chips.
“You brought food and drinks?”
“My best friend slept with my boyfriend while he was still my boyfriend, then asked me to move in with her and—”
“Okay, I get it, I get it. Jesus. That’s some heavy ammunition…” he said, already reaching for the soda and the chips. “This is completely off my diet.”
“Shut up and eat,” you said, grabbing a can for yourself.
He smiled.
For a few minutes, silence settled between you again. It wasn’t bad. You turned toward him, hand outstretched. Lando understood without a word, passing you the bag, and you took a handful. The space filled with the crunch of chips and the soft tss of his can opening.
“It’s a bad night for us,” you said, a little more thoughtful now.
Lando popped another chip into his mouth and glanced toward the building, exhaling.
“For Max and his girlfriend, though…” he added, a hint of a grin.
You smiled faintly.
“A great night?”
“From what I heard…”
“And who’s worse?” you asked, biting into another chip.
Lando ran his tongue over his teeth, clearing away the salt as he considered the question. With a small, decisive tilt of his head, he answered:
“They’re impressively in sync in every possible way. A perfect match.”
You stared at him for a second.
“So what did you hear?” you asked. “Go on. I need some joy.”
He made a face immediately.
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Because my life is falling apart,” you said, very matter-of-fact. “I deserve entertainment.”
He hesitated for a second, then sighed.
“Fine. But I’m warning you, this is bad.”
You leaned in a little, invested.
“Go.”
“You’re weird. Alright, fine, ugh, this is disgusting. Before I left, I heard… I heard a… fuck.” He covered his face with his hands, letting out an embarrassed laugh before dropping them again. “A slap.”
You frowned.
“A slap?”
He nodded.
“A very loud one. And…” He swallowed. “She sounded… very happy about it.”
You froze for half a second.
Then burst out laughing.
“Oh my God.”
“I know.”
“That’s incredible.”
“That’s not incredible,” he protested. “I had to hear that.”
You were still laughing.
“Worth it.”
Lando shook his head, a quiet laugh still lingering.
“You’re a bit concerning, you know that?”
You hummed, unfazed.
“I’ve been told worse.”
Lando bit down on his lower lip, trying to hide the smile that kept threatening to break through. He was smiling too much. Repeatedly. He blinked, sniffed, and took a sip of his drink before setting the half-full can down on the small table.
A small pause settled between you, softer.
Just there.
The water in the pool shifted gently, reflecting faint lights across the ceiling above you. Somewhere in the distance, a door closed.
You lay back down, adjusting yourself on the lounge chair again without worrying about the time. Without worrying about anything. It felt good to pretend, for a few hours, that the world was just that space between the pool and the apartments behind it. Lando lay down too, closing his eyes.
“I think we should play something,” you said, your voice a little quiet.
Neither of you moved.
“Play? Like what?” Lando didn’t even open his eyes.
“I don’t know…” Your nails tapped against the arm of the lounge chair as you thought. “We should ask each other questions.”
“Like an interview?”
“Like a game. But no boring questions allowed.”
He finally cracked one eye open, glancing at you from where he was.
“That feels very subjective.”
Your hand lifted, pointing at him accusingly.
“If you ask me my favorite color, I’m taking the chips back.”
He immediately hugged the bag of chips to his chest, almost on instinct, shaking his head with a mock-serious frown.
“You’re not touching my chips.”
A quiet laugh slipped out of you before you settled back again.
“I’ll start.” you announced. “Hmm… what’s something people assume about you that’s wrong?”
He blinked, a little startled.
“Ahn... We’re starting like this? I thought the questions were supposed to get deeper over time. This is… pretty deep.”
“Don’t chicken out. Come on, answer,” you encouraged, giving him two thumbs up.
Shaking his head, he paused to think about your question.
God, there were so many answers. When had people ever assumed something about him that was actually correct? That should be the real question. He scratched the side of his head, biting the inside of his cheek…
Finally, he placed both hands behind his head and took a breath, like he was about to deliver something very personal.
“I’m an athlete. You didn’t ask that, but it matters for the answer. I’m a Formula 1 driver,” he said, glancing at you with a slightly nervous laugh.
You nodded, because, well, that wasn’t new information. You’d been living in the same building for months, and Monaco was known for its celebrities. He continued.
“And it’s a very ruthless, competitive environment. Most drivers tend to have that coldness, that whole ‘destroy the other guy’ mentality. People say that’s what a champion looks like. I think that’s bullshit.” You could feel the conviction behind his words, the quiet intensity. “People tend to think that because I don’t hide what I feel, whether in what I say or how I act, it makes me weak. Like I’m an easy target.”
A heavy silence followed. You swallowed before asking:
“And how do you prove them wrong?”
His tongue ran over his lower lip. He was still looking across the patio, but when he turned back to you, there was a quiet flicker of pride and satisfaction in his eyes.
“Well… I won the world championship last year.”
You looked at him for a second longer.
Blink.
Your neck was flushed now, your face too.
“Fuck. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.”
For a second, Lando just stared at you.
Then he let out a short, disbelieving laugh, looking away as he dragged a hand over his face.
“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath.
You were still looking at him like that.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
“Your turn to ask,” you said, your voice trying to return to normal as you sat up on the lounge chair, crossing your legs.
Lando followed your movement, lifting his chin slightly and nodding because, fuck, what else was he supposed to do?
“Yeah, yeah. Okay. My turn.”
You wiped your hands on your shorts and rested your elbows on your knees. Lando tilted his head slightly, studying you for a second longer than before.
There was something there now. Different.
A little dangerous.
A little interesting.
He huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he leaned back on the lounge chair again.
“Do you just casually call people hot or should I take that seriously?” he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.
You didn’t even hesitate.
“Depends,” you said, shrugging one shoulder.
“On what?”
“On whether I actually think the person’s hot or not. My opinion is always honest.”
“Right,” he muttered. “So I should be worried.”
“Maybe,” you said lightly.
Lando shifted, propping himself up on his elbow as he looked at you properly now, eyes narrowing slightly.
“Okay,” he said, pointing at you. “New game.”
“That’s concerning.”
“Don’t interrupt. I’m fixing this.”
You raised an eyebrow and frowned.
“Fixing what?”
He ignored your question and got up from the lounge chair. You followed him with your eyes, blinking, not quite understanding what he was doing until he stepped closer to your chair and motioned with his hand for you to make room. Oh…
You shifted back a little, and he lowered himself down carefully, making sure not to tip the chair over and send both of you crashing. Finally, he crossed his legs, now sitting so close they were practically brushing against yours, facing you.
“Fire questions,” he announced, looking straight into your eyes. “Whoever doesn’t have the guts to answer has to jump in the pool.”
You blinked.
“Hey, that’s… intense.”
Lando shrugged.
“I didn’t think I was talking to a coward.”
You opened your mouth in disbelief, his eyes glinting with amusement, and you looked away, turning your head to the side as you shook it. What the hell.
“So it’s a challenge, then, idiot,” you said. “Go on, hit me with your super dangerous question.”
“Alright,” he said. “Don’t overthink it.”
You narrowed your eyes.
“I’m already regretting this.”
“Good,” he said. “Ready?”
“No.”
He let out a laugh that went straight to your chest. That closeness was a problem…
“Have you ever stayed when you should’ve left?”
“What a shit question.”
“Yes or no.”
You rolled your eyes.
“Yes. My turn.” You narrowed your eyes, thinking. “Have you ever hurt someone without meaning to?”
Lando nodded.
“Yes,” he answered. “Are you good at letting people go?”
You paused, looking at him. You took a breath and shook your head.
“…No.”
Lando didn’t look away. Not this time. Something in your answer seemed to settle between you, quieter than before, but heavier.
He nodded once.
“Yeah,” he said, softer now. “Figured.”
You frowned slightly.
“Oh, you figured?”
A small smile crept onto the corner of his lips — of course that would be your reaction.
“You hate it when someone reads you that easily, don’t you?”
You scoffed softly, shifting your weight on the lounge chair as your fingers brushed absentmindedly against the fabric.
“Is that part of the game or…?”
“Just curious,” he said, watching you a little too closely.
You shook your head, lips pressing together for a second before you looked back at him.
“Then I don’t have to answer. My turn.”
He let out a laugh, his head falling back as his hand came up to drag over his face before he pointed at you.
“Hey, that’s very unfair of you.”
You tilted your head, completely unbothered, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
“You made the rules.”
“I did not make that rule,” he shot back, leaning forward a little.
“You made the game.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“It is.”
“It’s not.”
A small smile tugged at your lips as you leaned in just a fraction, mirroring him.
“You’re stalling.”
He exhaled through his nose, eyes dropping for a second before flicking back up to yours, a hint of a smile still there.
“I’m thinking.”
“Sure you are.”
A beat.
Then he leaned in slightly more, elbows resting on his knees, gaze steady.
“Fine,” he said. “Ask.”
You didn’t like the way he said it at all — direct, intense, looking straight at you. Instinctively, your gaze dropped to your hands, trying to keep him from noticing the faint flush that had crept onto your cheeks.
“Are you… are you…” you cleared your throat. “Are you used to people liking you?”
Lando tilted his head, trying to catch your gaze. When he realized you weren’t going to look at him, he let out a soft chuckle and nudged your leg with his knee, drawing your attention.
“Tricky question.”
“Wasn’t it supposed to be yes or no?”
He nodded.
“In this kind of… interaction we’re having, yeah. But in general, I think I tend to grow on people. Win them over.”
To look at him now, you had to lean back slightly.
“That answer was long.”
“Yeah…” he agreed with a half-smile.
For a moment, he didn’t ask anything.
His attention was entirely on you — on every little slip: the slight tremor in your fingers as you toyed with a loose thread on your shorts, the way your breathing felt just a little too measured to be natural, the small twitch in your arm when he moved — just to adjust himself, but you seemed to think otherwise.
“Are you nervous?” he asked quietly.
You shook your head too quickly.
“No…”
He lifted his hand just enough for the back of his index finger to brush against your bare thigh.
You shivered.
He noticed.
“Are you sure?”
Your hand came up immediately, catching his wrist and holding it there — firm enough to stop him from moving any further.
“Fuck off, Lando…”
The shift was so subtle you didn’t even realize it was happening, not until your grip loosened, and his hand turned in yours, fingers threading gently through your own.
Your breath caught halfway.
“I think you are,” he murmured, the pad of his thumb brushing softly over the back of your hand.
You rolled your eyes again, shaking your head, even as your fingers tightened instinctively around his.
You weren’t going to answer that.
He leaned in closer, slow this time, lowering his face toward yours until he was right there.
Too close.
“Because you think I’m hot,” he said.
You let out a quiet breath, your fingers still caught in his, but your gaze dropped for a second before you forced it back up.
“I didn’t say that.”
A small smile tugged at his lips, like he knew exactly what he was doing.
“You said you think I’m sexy.”
You shook your head, a little sharper this time, shifting slightly even though you didn’t actually pull away.
“I said what you said, the way you said it, was sexy. Get back to the game, Lando.”
He huffed a soft laugh, his thumb still brushing absentmindedly against your hand before he straightened just a little.
“Okay. My turn.” He tilted his head, watching you closely. “Do you think I’m hot?”
“Oh my God!” You let out, immediately looking away, your free hand coming up to your face like that might somehow hide you.
“Yes or no. This again?” he pressed, leaning in just enough to stay in your space.
You covered your mouth, shaking your head, cheeks puffing slightly as you let out a slow breath.
“I’ve known you for, like, an hour and a half…”
He let out a soft breath through his nose, shaking his head slightly like you were missing the point, his thumb brushing once against your hand before pressing lightly against your wrist.
“Irrelevant. I thought you were hot within ten minutes.”
Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. Shit. Could he even say things like that? Did he really have the right to turn your brain into complete mush and steal every word right out of your mouth?
You closed your eyes when he leaned in like that, lifting your hand to keep him exactly where he was.
“I think I can get the answer out of you,” he said, raising his free hand to catch the one you’d put up like it was any kind of barrier.
“No…” you protested, completely lacking any real strength.
You could feel him getting closer, his warm breath brushing against your neck. It was too much — way too much. God…
Lando leaned in a little more, his nose finally brushing against your skin. Your hand tightened around his instinctively, gripping him harder. He dragged his nose slowly along your neck until he reached the spot just behind your ear.
“You smell really, really good,” he murmured.
You shivered.
The torture continued. The bastard didn’t seem even slightly interested in stopping… not at all. Where his nose had been, Lando placed a soft kiss, tracing the same path with his lips until he reached your shoulder, still covered by your shirt.
“You’re so quiet…” he said, his mouth hovering over your shoulder.
You swallowed hard and bit down on your lower lip. When he let go of your hand, it felt like being dropped into the cold… You thought about complaining, thought about being pathetic enough to beg him to lace his fingers with yours again — but in the next second, his hand slipped under the hem of your shirt, warm against the feverish skin of your waist, firm enough to pull a breath from you.
“Asshole…” you murmured.
He let out a muffled laugh and brought his head closer to yours, his nose resting against your cheek.
“What was that?” he asked in a whisper.
His thumb slid slowly over the skin of your stomach, the touch soft as it moved up, reaching the underside of your chest — bare, not covered by any bra. He let out a low, rough breath.
“Fuck…” he exhaled, quieter now. “You’re not wearing anything.”
“Lando, please… please…” you begged, your body nearly collapsing over his.
He straightened just enough to hover above you, his forehead resting against yours. Your hand moved instinctively to the collar of his shirt, gripping it in pure desperation. You leaned in, searching for him, but Lando pulled back just enough to draw a soft, frustrated sound from you.
“You still haven’t answered the question…” he teased.
Your jaw tightened, your grip on his shirt tightening with it.
“You’re hot, Lando. So hot. An arrogant asshole…” you said, lifting your face again to meet his.
Lando bit down on his lower lip, a laugh slipping through, and didn’t resist. If anything, his hands moved to your body, guiding you out of your position until you were sitting in his lap.
Your lips met at the exact same time.
There was no hesitation, no one reaching for the other first — it was a collision.
Warm. Immediate. Right.
His hand slid higher along your back, fingers pressing into you as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss just enough to make your breath hitch.
Your lips parted instinctively, the kiss shifting — slower, heavier, no longer careful. His mouth moved against yours with a quiet certainty, like he’d been waiting for this exact moment and finally got it.
You reached for his free hand and guided it under your shirt, lifting it until it found the place he had neglected. Lando let out a breathy laugh against your lips and let his fingers adjust, learning the heat of your skin, the weight in his hands — and just as you were about to ask for more, he tightened his grip enough to make your back arch, a soft sound slipping out of you against his mouth.
That only made him kiss you harder.
It was an obscene kiss. He couldn’t even bring himself to think that someone might be watching. Didn’t want to think about anything. It was just your mouth on his, his hands on you, the pressure…
And then—
he stopped.
Not completely.
Just enough.
His lips still brushing yours, his breath uneven against your mouth, his hand still resting warm against your skin.
You didn’t pull away. Neither did he. But the urgency shifted, slowed. Your foreheads almost touched, your noses brushing as you both tried to catch your breath.
For a second, neither of you said anything.
The world rushed back in, just a little — the quiet of the pool, the night air against your skin, the sound of your breathing too loud between you. His thumb moved, slow this time, tracing a distracted line against your side.
“…fuck,” he exhaled softly, more to himself than to you.
You let out a shaky breath, one hand still gripping his shirt like you needed something solid to hold onto. You didn’t trust your own body to move just yet. Your forehead rested against his, your eyes still closed.
“Yeah… fuck.”
He pulled you closer, arms tightening around you like he needed the contact just as much to steady himself.
“You’re coming with me,” he said.
You raised an eyebrow, pulling back just enough to look at him.
“To where?”
“My apartment.” He said it simply, like it was obvious. “You don’t want to be anywhere near Ellie right now and…” He hesitated for half a second, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Well. We have something to finish.”
Your eyes narrowed slightly, but there was no real resistance in it.
“Oh, do we?” you asked, voice quieter now, but edged with that same teasing tone.
His thumb brushed once against your side again, absentminded.
“Yeah,” he said, just as soft. “We do.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
A quiet, shared laugh slipped out between you, soft and a little disbelieving, as you both pulled away slowly — like neither of you was in any real hurry to break the contact completely.
You stood first. He followed. You both started walking, side by side. Close, but not touching.
The pool lights flickered softly behind you, the water settling back into stillness like nothing had happened.
Neither of you looked back.
The apartment was quiet when you got there, except for the sound of the shower running and oil sizzling in the kitchen. Lando hung his key on the holder and stretched his neck slightly, trying to see what was going on before raising a finger for you to wait.
“Oh, you’re here! We thought you were asleep,” Max said from the sink.
He was wearing a robe — and apparently nothing underneath. Lando was just about to tell him to put something on and try to sneak you discreetly to his room, but you, curious and stubborn, leaned in between them — and Max saw you.
His eyebrows shot up immediately.
“Uh? Hello,” he said, waving the spatula.
Lando froze.
Of course this would happen.
“Max—” he started, already moving slightly in front of you like that might somehow undo the situation. “What are you doing?”
Max blinked once, then glanced between the two of you, clearly piecing things together a little too quickly.
“I live here,” he said slowly, like that was the most obvious answer in the world. Then his eyes flicked back to you. “You… don’t.”
You let out a small, awkward laugh, shifting your weight.
“Hi.”
That was the exact moment the shower turned off.
Lando’s eyes went wide. This was about to get very weird, very fast.
“Greeeaaat. Okay! You’ve met. Lovely. Bye, Max. Ha ha.” Lando said, hands already on your shoulders. He turned you toward his bedroom door, and with a laugh, you let him guide you along.
“We’ll talk properly later!” you called out, and Max answered with a quick “Alright!” before going back to whatever he was doing with the spatula.
The last thing you heard was a female voice asking Max who he had been talking to—right before Lando shut his bedroom door.
“He seems nice.”
“He’s not.”
You laughed.
“I don’t mind that he saw, just so you know.”
Lando’s shoulders dropped, tension easing out of him as he stepped closer again. You took a step back on instinct, your back hitting the door with a soft thud.
He smiled.
“Good. You’ll have plenty of time to get properly introduced later.”
You tilted your head slightly, eyes narrowing in amusement.
“Oh? Planning on making this a regular occurrence?”
He pretended to think about it for a second.
“We’ll see,” he said finally, tone light, teasing. Then his gaze dropped — slow, deliberate — before coming back up to yours. “Right now, though…”
A beat.
“I want to see your clothes on the floor.”
You let out a surprised laugh — but it barely had time to settle before his hands were on your hips, pulling you forward into a kiss that knocked the air right out of you.
when people started to fancasting you and this f1 driver as the characters of ‘people we meet on vacation’ you never thought it would be accurate.
pairing: oscar piastri x actress!fem reader
faceclaim: madelyn cline & pinterest girlies
warnings: use of y/n, opposites attract, non accurate timeline, wdc season 2025 including races like brazil, vegas, abu dhabi (trigger warning). also this is just for fun & obviously fiction i'm not trying to reflect anyone in real life ‹3
a/n: I'M BACK... hi..... when i wrote this i was trying to ignore the last part of the season for my mental health so pls bare with me tysm
MY MASTERLIST
yourusername
liked by daisyedgarjones and 1,824,269 others
yourusername i haven’t slept in 3 days and i’m starting to hallucinate espresso
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username1 pls rest for a week i am begging
username2 need her to be my friend
username3 omg she is so poppy wright coded
⤷ username4 I NEVER THOUGHT ABOUT THIS BUT YOU’RE SO RIGHT
⤷ username5 she’s literally been a fancast for poppy for months why is everyone just now realising
⤷ username6 this is exactly how i pictured poppy traveling
⤷ username7 ok but who would be alex 🤨
username8 booked and busyyyy
username9 my favorite girl
──── ୨ৎ ────
oscarpiastri
Autódromo Hnos. Rodríguez
liked by opeightyone and 712.483 others
oscarpiastri Bring it on
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username1 lock INNN
username2 this caption could apply to literally anything
⤷ username3 race? life? breakfast? we’ll never know
⤷ username4 he’s so unintentionally funny
username5 oh oscar and his love for house music
username6 alex nilsen if he was a formula 1 driver
⤷ username7 WAIT 😭
⤷ username8 no because why does that fit
⤷ username9 booktok is gonna find this and ruin my life
──── ୨ৎ ────
──── ୨ৎ ────
oscarpiastri
liked by yourusername and 887.985 others
oscarpiastri In my usual hiding place
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username1 locked in 😮💨
username2 REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE
username3 this is your alex nielsen yourusername
⤷ username4 SHE LIKED THE POST CAN YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING
⤷ username5 WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE LIKED IT
⤷ username6 oh she definitely saw the tweets
username7 PLS HAVE A COMEBACK
username8 i love the booktwt girlies but can you guys relax we’re trying to win a championship here
⤷ username9 let us have this one thing
username10 yourusername girl what are you doing here
username11 the way he has no idea what’s happening on twitter rn is sending me
──── ୨ৎ ────
ynupdates
liked by username1, username2 and 322,547 others
ynupdates Y/N L/N and Oscar Piastri, Formula 1 driver for Mclaren, are now following each other on Instagram.
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username1 IT’S HAPPENING
username2 they’re probably laughing at us so bad
⤷ username3 i hope they are
⤷ username4 at least they’re aware of each other now
username5 i love the election of pics you guys always use
⤷ ynupdates Thank you. We take this very seriously.
username6 omg he is so cute y/n proceed
username7 i need to know who followed who first this is important information
⤷ ynupdates Y/N followed first. We have screenshots with timestamps if needed.
⤷ username8 YNUPDATES IS A JOURNALIST
username9 me explaining to my friends why this is a big deal
username10 he’s probably so confused 😭😭
username11 my worlds colliding!!
──── ୨ৎ ────
──── ୨ৎ ────
oscarpiastri
liked by yourusername and 745,283 others
oscarpiastri All set for Interlagos 🇧🇷
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username1 been doing some serious witchcraft to manifest a good race for you
username2 oscar pls bring home a good result
username3 please loooock in 😭
username4 Y/N LIKED!!!
username5 it’s so nice to see you smiling
username6 omfg oscar piastri lock in... y/n is watching... don’t embarass us
⤷ username7 so real like... she was an oscar nominee last year... oscar LOCK TF IN
⤷ username8 IM CRYINGGGG my poor polite cat
──── ୨ৎ ────
yourusername has updated their story.
❤︎ liked by oscarpiastri and others
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oscarpiastri
Why are you in Australia
⤷ yourusername
HELLO TO YOU TOO
i’m here for press stuff for my movie
why do you sound so accusatory
oscarpiastri
Just surprised
I’m from Melbourne
⤷ yourusername
WAIT YOU’RE AUSTRALIAN???
how did i not know this
oscarpiastri
This explains a lot actually
⤷ yourusername
i genuinely thought you were british
i’m learning so much this week
oscarpiastri
Okay that’s really offensive
⤷ yourusername
i’m so sorry
please forgive me citizen of australia
mate
crikey
is that better
oscarpiastri
Stop 😂
How’s the book going?
⤷ yourusername
it’s in my suitcase i just haven’t... opened it yet
oscarpiastri
It’s been a week since we talked
⤷ yourusername
I KNOW i’m a fraud have you started it?
oscarpiastri
I’m on chapter 8
⤷ yourusername
WHAT how do you have time
i feel like i’m missing out
oscarpiastri
No rush
We can talk about it when you catch up
⤷ yourusername
i’m gonna start it tonight
after my last interview
oscarpiastri
Let me know what you think
⤷ yourusername
i will
good luck this weekend, i saw you were in brazil!!
oscarpiastri
Thanks!
Enjoy Australia
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yourusername
Sydney, Australia
liked by oscarpiastri and 1,557,025 others
yourusername someone sent me pink roses because they mean appreciation so i’m appreciating how i haven’t tripped in these heels yet
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username1 FIRST I’D SELL MY FAMILY FOR U
⤷ yourusername PLEASE DON’T DO THAT ILY
username2 somehow this is her most normal post
username3 OSCAR IN THE LIKES
username4 who got you flowers 🤨
⤷ username5 ASKING THE REAL QUESTIONS
⤷ username6 pink roses mean admiration too
⤷ username7 but they’re also given as a romantic gesture i’m just saying
username7 WHY IS OSCAR PIASTRI IN THE LIKES. my man is cheating on me...
⤷ username8 oscarpiastri explain yourself
username9 hope you’re drinking water
username10 oscar piastri liking this while preparing for a triple header is crazy multitasking
⤷ username11 omg leave him alonee
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letterboxd
liked by oscarpiastri and 785,254 others
letterboxd We asked Y/N L/N for her top 3 films of the year so far and she said, "I honestly don’t know. I’ve been reading more than watching lately and I feel guilty about it."
Read the full interview on our bio!
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username1 words cannot express how much I LOVE HER
username2 she’s reading more??? we need the book list IMMEDIATELY
⤷ username3 i will read whatever she recommends
goodreads we’ll take good care of her
username4 OSCAR PIASTRI I SEE YOU
username5 is it people we meet on vacation...
⤷ username6 IT HAS TO BE
⤷ username7 what else would she be reading right now
username8 booked and busy (real)
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oscarpiastri
Las Vegas
liked by yourusername and 828,394 others
oscarpiastri Throwing it back to my RC days
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username1 brb gonna cry about how cute this is
opeightyone This might be our favourite 🥹
username2 i can’t handle this SO CUTE
yourusername little oscar was cool ❤︎ liked by author
⤷ username3 YN COMMENTED
⤷ username4 I’M NOT BREATHING I JUST DIED OMG
⤷ username5 please someone confirm this is real
⤷ username6 i think i’m hallucinating
⤷ username9 someone sedate me immediately
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op81content
liked by ynupdates and 304,581 others
op81content GUYS I just met Oscar and he was having dinner with Y/N L/N. It was the best day of my life, they were both so kind and made time to take pics :)
I didn’t want to be annoying but Oscar noticed me staring and he stopped. He is so humble, we talked while he signed my phone case. Y/N hugged me. I kept apologizing for bothering them and they BOTH told me it was totally fine. I swear they were the kindest people ever.
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ynupdates We need to collab
⤷ op81content YES
⤷ username1 THE UPDATE ACCOUNTS WORKING TOGETHER I'M CRYING
username2 the fact that he noticed her staring and stopped 😭
username3 omg i didn’t know she was in las vegas???
⤷ username4 SAME i thought she was still in uk
⤷ username5 she finished press tour last week
username6 Y/N HUGGED YOU I’M SO JEALOUS
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yourusername updated their story.
❤︎ liked by yourbff and others
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friend1
please tell me you didn’t fly across the country to NOT make a move on this guy
⤷ yourusername
i’m here to watch a race and support a friend who is literally doing his JOB
⤷ friend1
“support a friend” ok poppy wright
friend3
you look hot
⤷ yourusername
thank you i tried
username1
YOU LOOK STUNNING
username2
omg you’re really there. have the best time!!
username3
YOU AND OSCAR PLEASE
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yourusername
Las Vegas
liked by oscarpiastri and 3,785,254 others
yourusername lost all my money 💔 every like is one dollar c’mon guys help me
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username1 you’re so unserious i love you
oscarpiastri I’ll spot you ❤︎ liked by author
⤷ username2 HELLO???
⤷ username3 EXCUSE ME????
⤷ username4 OSCAR???
⤷ username5 i just dropped my phone
⤷ username6 he did not need to be that polite and sweet
⤷ username7 this is actually insane behavior
⤷ username8 poppyalex nation just fainted
⤷ username9 i fear this is becoming real life
username10 SO GORGEOUS PLS GIVE ME ONE CHANCE
username11 lost all your money huh
⤷ yourusername tragic :(
⤷ username12 was it actually gambling or shopping
⤷ yourusername yes
username13 why are you holding a bra on a park bench at night
⤷ yourusername it’s a long story
username14 the first pic is sus...
⤷ username15 we know who it is
⤷ username16 especially after oscar’s comment
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yourusername updated their story.
❤︎ liked by oscarpiastri and others
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username1
going to see this movie only for you
username2
ARE YOU DATING OSCAR??
username3
ommm you will teleport to qatar for the race 🧘♀️
username4
i thought she was going to be in the race today :((
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f1wags
liked by username1, username2 and 67,892 others
f1wags Oscar Piastri’s WAG spotted arriving at Yas Marina Circuit for quali! She was notably absent from the Qatar GP last week, but has returned for the season finale.
This is her second race appearance, sparking speculation about their relationship status. Thoughts?
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username1 she’s back!!
username2 calling her a wag when she just had a movie premiere😭
username3 "oscar piastri’s wag" put some respect on her name
⤷ username4 she’s literally more famous than him...
username5 love that she’s supporting him<3
username6 if oscar loses i’m blaming her
⤷ username7 ??? leave her alone
⤷ username8 why do people love blaming women for men’s results
username9 so cute she’s supporting him<3
username10 i don’t think she’s right for him, they’re too different
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f1
liked by mclaren, redbullracing and 5,472,690 others
username1 F1 HARD LAUNCHED OSCAR AND Y/N I’M SCREAMING
username2 let’s post the championship celebrations AND hard launch oscar’s relationship in one post
⤷ username3 the audacity
username4 this is actually hilarious because they were clearly avoiding confirming anything
username5 not even deuxmoi or tmz... FORMULA ONE
username6 i feel like we all knew but seeing it on the OFFICIAL F1 ACCOUNT hits different
username7 i’m convinced the f1 admin is a y/n stan ❤︎ liked by author
username8 PR teams everywhere just fell to their knees
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oscarpiastri
liked by yourusername and 889,758 others
oscarpiastri Lots achieved. Lots learnt. Coming back stronger next year
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username1 and we will be THERE #hOPium
username2 you had an incredible season osc!!
username3 next year is yours BRING ON 2026
yourusername i’m proud of you ❤️ ❤︎ liked by author
⤷ username4 Y/N 😭😭😭
⤷ username5 he won for life
⤷ username6 i’m not crying u are crying
⤷ username7 this is so sweetttt :')
⤷ username8 she can be serious when she needs to be😭
username7 future world champion <3
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yourusername posted a new tiktok on their account.
yourusername get yourself a man who does ur hair
🎵 original sound · yourusername
❤️ 2.3 mill · 💬 22.6 mil · 📁 150 mil · ↗️ 80.5 mil
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username1 is that oscar
⤷ yourusername i don’t know anyone named oscar
⤷ username2 HELP 😭
⤷ username3 not a single serious bone in her body
username4 ok but where are you going
⤷ yourusername outside
username5 please never get media trained
username6 book recommendations pls
⤷ yourusername people we meet on vacation
⤷ username7 DID YOU DO THAT ON PURPOSE
⤷ yourusername oops no it was a typo
⤷ username8 girl you cannot keep doing this to us
username9 are we just pretending we didn’t saw the pic posted on the F1 OFFICIAL account
⤷ yourusername what pic
⤷ username10 SHE’S GASLIGHTING US
username11 are you going to the fia awards with oscar
⤷ yourusername the only oscar i care about is the golden one
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oscarpiastri and yourusername updated their story.
❤︎ liked by yourbff and others
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yourbff
YOU TWO ARE SO UNSERIOUS PLS STOP
username1
are we supposed to believe this is a coincidence
username2
someone take their phones away
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oscarpiastri
liked by yourusername and 2,658,047 others
oscarpiastri Off season ☀️
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yourusername you finally learned how to take good photos of me
username1 THEY'RE HOLDING HANDS IN PIC 2 I'M SICK
username2 omg he took pictures of HER not the sunset 🥺🥺🥺🥺
username3 MY POPPYALEX <3
⤷ username4 this is literally a romcom
⤷ username5 yes omg i can't believe poppyalex is canon
username6 this feels illegal i wasn’t prepared i thought they were going to make fun of us forever
f1 😍😍😍
⤷ username7 F1 IN THE COMMENTS????
⤷ username8 they really said we support this relationship
username9 congrats to poppyalex nation we won
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yourusername
liked by oscarpiastri and 3,581,250 others
yourusername so about that fancast...
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oscarpiastri Why are you like this
⤷ yourusername you knew what you were getting into
⤷ oscarpiastri I didn’t
⤷ yourusername fake news
username1 someone stop her she’s too funny ❤︎ liked by author
username2 this is the most yn thing ever i’m crying
username3 oscar: here’s my beautiful girlfriend at sunset 🥺 yn: look at this dork eating
oscarpiastri I would like to formally request a nicer post next time
⤷ yourusername wdym there’s no next time
⤷ username4 SHE’S EVIL
pairing: oscar piastri x dts!crew fem reader
tags: developing relationship, light banter, drabble
you catch oscar after the race.
Monza GP 2025.
“Hey,” you call softly when Oscar passes.
He’s done with his media duties, trailing behind Sophie. His eyes widen a fraction when he realizes it’s you. “Oh, hi. Didn’t catch you there.”
Your smile is rueful. “Nice racing. Stupid call, if I’m being honest. But—you were graceful about it.”
His head drops at he comment, exhaling a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”
He tells Sophie to go ahead and walks towards you, leans on the wall on the other side of the media pen. You catch a faint whiff of sweat and, unsurprisingly, spiced chocolate. The proximity rouses the nerves on your skin, and you tighten your grip on your clipboard.
“Is that on the record?” He asks, friendly. You would consider it teasing, even, but. It’s Oscar. It doesn’t mean anything.
“Not if I have any say in it.”
As if on cue, a camera unit passes by trailing a frustrated looking Ollie Bearman with a boom mic hovering overhead. The crew acknowledge you with a nod.
He taps your clipboard. “Will you be interviewing me soon?”
“I wish,” you say without thinking. You realize, belatedly, how that sounds, and try to remain non-chalant to cover the fact that it sounded the way it did. There’s the smallest tug at the corner of his lips.
You hand the clipboard to him. He squints at the rows of tables and scribbled notes, and frowns.
“Already a producer and you can’t even pick your battles.”
“It’s a dibs system between us. I’m just one of the few field producers. Nothing too major.”
“Well, Miss Nothing Too Major, I’m sure you’d rather be covering my championship fight than Alpine,” he says the last word the way someone would say cockroach.
You swipe the clipboard away from him and click your tongue. “Cocky.” The comment passes without rebuttal. You can still feel him hovering over you, a little too interested in your notes. It's warm, with him so close.
“You should go ahead,” you usher. You still needed to hunt down Franco, wanting to get an angle for their episode.
Oscar lets out the smallest of huffs. “Alright, don’t wanna get in your way.”
“Thanks for stopping to chat.”
“Have fun with Alpine.”
You frown. “You don’t mean that.”
“Sure as hell I don’t,” he smirks. “See you ‘round.”
The hotel room was quiet, the only light coming from the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Oscar sat at the edge of the bed, still in his team hoodie, his hair slightly damp from a quick shower, head bowed like the weight of the race was still pressing down on him.
You came out of the bathroom, drying your hands, and paused when you saw him still, quiet, too still.
You sat beside him, careful, not asking anything yet. Sometimes he just needed silence. Sometimes, he needed space to reach for you first.
He exhaled slowly, then spoke without looking at you.
“I hate when you come all this way and I give you... that.”
Your eyebrows knit together. “Give me what?”
“Disappointment.” His voice was flat, almost empty. “A bad race. A stupid mistake. A weekend that doesn’t even deserve a replay.”
You turned, folding one leg beneath you. “Oscar-”
He finally looked at you, eyes heavy with something deeper than frustration.
“I just... I don’t want you to regret being with someone who’s good sometimes, but not always.”
Your heart cracked at the edges.
You reached out, cupping his jaw gently, forcing his gaze to stay with yours. “Listen to me,” you said, soft but firm. “You are not here to perform for me. I don’t love you because you’re fast. I love you because you’re you.”
His eyes flickered. “But don’t you want to be proud?”
You smiled, sad and honest. “I am proud. Always. Of how hard you fight. Of how kind you are when no one’s looking. Of how you keep going even when the pressure could crush you.”
He blinked hard, jaw tightening as if holding back tears.
You pressed a kiss to his temple, then rested your forehead against his.
“You don’t have to win for me to stay. You just have to come back.”
Oscar didn’t reply with words. He just leaned into you, hands gripping your waist like he needed to anchor himself, like your arms were the only thing keeping him from floating too far away.