back after a writer's block. tbh not so sure about this but since older bf!lando's always a serve so fuck it ig🤷♀️
ibiza was hot, like scorching.
lando smiled as he watched you laugh with his friends. fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare shoulder. god, he still remembers how nervous you were to meet his friends — though he was lot more. the age gap used to be the elephant in the room no one really addressed but if anyone saw your table from a 3rd person's perspective they'd see a group of young adults that are close friends.
"enjoying?" he asked as you hummed in agreement before getting tangled up in a conversation with max fewtrell's girlfriend. you laughed again, that bright, unrestrained sound that had turned heads since you’d walked into the restaurant. your hands moving animatedly as you spoke to max’s girlfriend, bracelets clinking softly. you fit there so easily now — smiling, chatting, sipping from your glass — like you’d always been part of this little circle.
it was strange, really. few months back, you were all nerves, clutching lando’s hand under the table during your first dinner with his friends, whispering that you weren’t sure if they’d like you. now, watching you, lando almost couldn’t remember that version of you. you’d grown into the space, carved out your own place in their group — something he was quietly proud of.
"someone's tanned terrifically well." he leaned down to whisper in your ear. "you're just saying that." you rolled your eyes at him. it was a well known fact in the world of f1 .i.e. if there's someone who tans gorgeously than it's hands down lando norris. he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, "darling—" "norris you really to get a fucking room!" ethan interrupted. the man referred to, just gave him the middle finger from behind his girlfriend’s back.
the night spilled softly into gold and violet, the air humming with laughter and the low roll of waves. lando leaned back in his chair, one arm slung casually behind you — though every time your shoulder brushed his forearm, his breath stuttered just a little.
the hotel door clicked shut behind you, sealing the muffled bass of distant music and the warm hush of the room. the air-con hummed low, cool against skin that was still heated from the walk back. you turned around to remove your heels, the hem of your shell skirt brushing against your thigh with that faint, delicate clatter it had made all evening.
lando leaned against the door, hands still in his pockets, a slow grin tugging at his mouth. "that thing," he said, pointing toward your skirt, voice as he removed his own shoes, "hasn’t shut up all night." you blinked, half-smiling. "you mean my skirt?"
"mhmm." he pushed off the door, stepping closer. "every time you moved, it sounded like it was telling on you.” he muttered, warping his arms around you. you laughed, heat creeping up your neck. "maybe it just wanted attention." you shrugged kissing his left cheek. lando pulled you closer — if possible. tilting his head, his eyes skimmed your outfit before meeting yours again, "then it got plenty."
his lips found yours as his hands worked to pull the strings of your white cami top ( which barely covered your back with it's two strings ). his hands worked on your skirt next working till you were stark naked as he walked you two back to the loveseat in back of the room. pulling you down on his lap. lando couldn't lie but he let out a moan seeing naked figure.
"god, how'd i get so luck with you pretty girl?" he muttered as if enchanted by your beauty. "stop!" you scrunched your nose as the heat crept up your cheeks and neck. you straddled his lap, arms draping over his shoulders. lando captured your lips in a slow and sensual kiss, tongues tangling languidly as he explored each part of your mouth and left you dizzy. lando's hands roamed around your back, tracing the dip of your spine with his knuckles. you rocked your hips, grinding down against him as you deepened the kiss. you could feel every inch of his length pressing against your aching core, separated only by the fabric that covered him.
lando groaned into your mouth, his fingers digging into your hips as he guided your movements. he bucked up against you, the friction delicious even through the barrier of clothes. "fuck" he breathed, breaking the kiss to nip at your bottom lip. "you feel so good." you smiled, leaning back to give him better access to yout neck. lando didn't hesitate, peppering your neck with open-mouthed kisses and sharp nips that made you shiver with pleasure. you rocked your his against his as the sensation.
"fuck i need you now" he kissed your neck as he pulled out a condom from his jeans pocket before pushing it down and freeing his cock. he ripped off the wrapper by his teeth and wrapped your hand around his shaft, giving himself a slow stroke from root to tip. lando groaned, his head falling back as he focused on the feeling of your soft palm encircling him before putting the condom on. "come on princess, do your thing" lando breathed. you didn’t need to be told twice as you positioned yourself over his hard length. his hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding you down onto his cock in one smooth motion. yoj both groaned as he filled you, stretching your walls to accommodate his thickness.
you began to move, rocking your hips against his as you rode him slowly. lando's hands guided your movements, helping you find a steady rhythm that had them both panting with pleasure. lando threw his head behind, letting you take control for awhile. "fuck, i've been thinking about this all day." he blabbered, feeling your hot core wrap around his cock. "you feel so good around me." he muttered against your bare breast.
it wasn't long until your thighs began to tremble, your legs threatening to close— "ah–fuck— can't hold myself." you breathed as your frame collapsed against chest. lando chuckled before gripping your hips and thrusting harder. he grabbed a fistful of your hair — making you face him before capturing your lips against his. god knows how much he loves doing this specially when you're on the brink of an orgasm because you always struggle to kiss him back. all because of just how good you were being fucked and honestly, that's the best ego booster that man ever needed.
the room smelled like sex, sweat, and beach air. a weird cocktail of sounds of skin slapping against skin, a mixture of your and his moans, and your bangles clacking filled the space. pleasure ripped through you as you came undone. lando fastened his pace, chasing his own pleasure and overstimulated you in the process. he pressed his forehead against yours as he let his pleasure wash over him.
smut (obvi), praise kink, first time tgt, 6 year age gap, the reader 20, reader is a mercedes driver, older bf!ln4
thinking about how older bf!lando norris was never the type to go for someone ridiculously younger—atleast not someone as young as you. he first saw you in the Mercedes garage watching the race alongside kimi and toto. the formula two world championship leader. displaying a dominance no one had seen before. every race—including sprint and feature–won from pole, fastest laps set so easily as if it was nothing.
safe to say everyone heard of you. including him. and he didn't think much of it because you were so young—19, basically a child. still a teenager.
it wasn’t until the pre-season testings in bahrain he really looked at you. so timid, reserved. always sticking to your teammate, kimi or people you were already familiar with. what really intrigued him was your coy behavior. the way it was so easy to fluster you. the lovely shade of pink you would turn everytime he complimented you.
eyes immediately casted down wards, heat rushing to your cheeks as you let out a nervous and coy giggle before continuing the conversation. and lando thought it was the most adorable thing ever. but oh how sad this wasn't something reserved for him specially. that's just how you were. even when max complimented you, or so did charles. infact even when any skysports employee praised you!
he wanted to all of it for himself. he wanted the red on your cheeks only because of him. he wanted you to stutter only because of him. he wanted your shy giggles only because of him. he wanted the way you downcast your eyes only because of him.
he wanted all of your timind, coy, and young self all only for him.
"you're such a lovely darling aren't you?" he said as he brushed the hairs out of your face. his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt. your first podium, his monaco win—somehow you both ended up in his bedroom, drunk—enough for you to consent properly. clothes thrown on the floor haphazardly.
"lando." you whined as you felt the knot forming—legs shaking as his calloused fingers pinched your clit. "let go for me doll, let it all go." he leaned down to press a reassuring kiss on your temple. with a final thrust his fingers were coated with your insides and slick. he bought his fingers to his lips, tasting you. "so pretty, and taste so sweet. just like your behavior doll."
and there was it, the way you avoided his eyes, face all flushed from the fingering and his compliment as your lips stretched into a coy smile. "you still with me baby?" you nodded at his word.
you moaned as he pushed his cock inside you. before you could utter about him being too big—making you feel so full—he said, "you're taking it so well, sweetheart. i don’t think you even know how good you are for me." and you shut up—egar to please him, egar to earn his praise. now that he was hovering over you, his face was so close you could see the marks your lipstick left on his jaw.
lando smirked at the lewd noises that left your mouth as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. "my doll, my perfect little thing." he mumbled against your neck. your wet cunt felt blissful against his errotic cock. "every single sound you make is perfect. ever. single. one." he says before bitting your neck. mouth littering your neck with purple bruises.
lando knew this was higly unprofessional. he wasn't supposed to be tangled up with you—atleast not like this. he wasn't supposed to be tangled up with the second youngest rookie on the grid. with the rookie who took his bestfriend's seat. with the only female driver on the grid. it would be higly scandalous but god if they knew the way you sounded—not that they would, not that he would let them. he wouldn't allow anyone to hear the noises you make under him, ever.
"god, you're too young to be this addictive." lando kissed the shell of you ear.
"ahh—ah lando." your hips bucked up when he increased his pace. he put one hand on your throat—not even applying pressure. scared that he might break you so it just stayed there. lando groaned when he felt you clenching around him. "ahh–i'm gonna cum." you panted as you felt the knot getting tighter. lando hissed as your nails dragging down his back.
he leanded down, placing butterfly kisses all over your face murmuring, "this is mine," as he kissed your cheek. "this too." while kissing your forehead. "all you—all mine, you hear that?" if his words didn't prove it then his tone did—so assertive and dominating, so possessive. making his message all but clear. he removed his hand from your throat. slipping it in yours—intertwining your fingers together as he felt you near your climax. his other hand slipped under you, playing with your clit.
you squeezed his hand when you came all over his cock—back archin' off the bed. "just a lil more baby." he muttered against your lips as his pace became brutal. chasing his own high—yet still playing with your clit. you whined his name as all the sensations became too much for your already drunken and orgasm blissed sense. "shh i know baby, i know." he kissed your pout. purposely pounding a little hard, making you moan a little too loudly against his mouth. lando slipped his tongue inside your mouth. making sure all of you was pleasured.
and with the final thrust he came in the condom—ofcourse you have to use protection when sleeping with someone so much younger. he slowly pulled out his now softened dick. replacing it with his fingers. "uh uh keep your legs open f'me doll." he kissed your cheek. "you don't have to think sweetheart, just let me take care you." his forehead rested against yours. "it's too much lan." you cried—barely aware of the tears forming in your eyes.
"i know, i know, but you trust me don't you?" he asked kissing away the tears that fell. you nodded—but ofcourse that wasn't enough. "words darling." he commanded. "i–ah–i do trust you." you managed choke out, slowly opening your legs more. "that's it—there you go, always so so pliant. my sweet girl, my good girl." the praise, the overstimulation, the alcohol in your system—it was all too much. your thighs trembled as you came all over his fingers once again. lando hummed as he tasted you—his new favorite flavour—once again.
he fell next to you, pulling you in his arms. big hands wiping away the dried tears. and that's when something snapped in him–perhaps the reality of the situation. "hey—hey baby, look at me are you okay? did i push you too far? did i hurt you?" he asked, voice laced with worry and anxiety. "no no you were good." you muttered—tired body instinctively curling towards his warmth. "you're not sleeping are you? i need to clean us up." lando looked down at you. carefully tucked into his side already pouting about five more minutes.
god, he was so so so gone. he held you—just five more minutes—with your head tucked under his chin. thinking about he'll never touch another girl ever again. not after you.
older bf!lando norris swore he never really got such awful lewd thoughts about you. but seeing you after the race, sitting so prettily on the stool in parc fermé drinking water — the said water overflowing from one the side of your lip.
and god, did it made him wonder how you would look if it was his cum and not water.
“yup, that's it — good girl.” he moaned loudly, throwing his head back as he sacked down the couch. he pushed your head even lower, your gags on his length sending vibrations all over his body.
“fuck baby you take me so well.” he blabbered, bucking his hips forward. his girp was clad steel on your hair. you had to hold his tights for support.
lando was lost in haze. god knows how long he waited for this. avoided masturbation — all so he can fill that pretty mouth of yours. that same warm mouth that was now doing wonders to his cock.
his eyes snapped open as he watched his cum burn your throat. and just like he imagined, drops of it slipping down — overflowing —from the corners of your lip. “you better swallow all it all, fucking all of it.” he grunted.
PLSSS MORE OLDER X YOUNGER READER I BEGG (either Lando or Oscar)
Money, Money, Money — [ 18+ ]
financial scammer older bf!oscar, mentions of ridiculously age gap but no grooming has been done, fingering, mentions of virgin reader. a tiny one shot
oscar piastri is a liar.
but he is also a god, well a messiah to the world—to comman man whom he sold a dream. a dream of rags to riches. but honestly it was rather easy. scam the banks & financial institutions and invest in speculative activities that gave him high return and then return the said "loan."
now, not that the banks or any such institutions were aware. afterall he was just an intermediary. god, he'd be fucked if they or FCA knew of it.
but all he could care about in the moment was how beautiful you loooked sitting on his lap in a skimpy bikini with a price that would make people double check the tag, in his billion dollar boat, in territorial waters of some unknown small country ( a country that happened to have his multiple off shore shell companies ). his fingers stroking your clit, smearing your slick all around.
you were young, ridiculously young. barely a legal adult. a relationship where people would look at and raise their eyebrows. but hey! to his defence it was you who waltzed your way to him. you already harboured a crush on the older man even before you were legal. all it required for oscar was a lecture at your uni about disclosure requirements. and little miss wide eyes — who now qualified to be legal — charmed your way by fluttering your eyelashes at him.
did oscar see through it? of-fucking-course. did he tell himself you were far too young? yes! but god, you were one persistent human being. and, and, and, the relationship was fairly new. barely shy of few months.
your breathe hitched in your throat as he increased his pace. oscar smirked as he watched you. head thrown back, ass practically grinding on his plam begging for more, your beautiful hair falling in your eyes — gosh, if he could he'd like to have this sight painted but god forbid someone other than him sees you like this.
"god, you're so fucking tight," he muttered as your cunt greedily milked his fingers so hard it was making it harder for him to move. you whimpered as oscar somehow still managed to pump his fingers in and out of your cunt.
he knew you were close. the shaking thighs, the way your cunt sucked his fingers, your body getting so twitchy, the way you arched your back, the moans that left your lips — he knew all of it by heart. oscar watched in anticipation as you came feverishly close to an orgasm. your thighs clamped around his hand as you came undone.
oscar leaned forward to kiss your lips — a gesture of praise. but all he could think of how if that's how your cunt felt around his fingers then just how good it would feel when his cock will be suffocated by your virgin pussy. perhaps, that's something special reserved for a more private area — something precious for you two, mainly you – the darling, the star, the light of his life.
fluff, fluff, fluff, fluff!!!! for once no horniness on this acc lol. js a lil blurb because istg these were the best two hours of my life. older bf!lando! mentions of love bombing but ofc no love bombing, & dido and aneas — a greek mythological couple
it was a british grand prix from hell—for you. the car was slower in fp1 and fp2 because of a new suspension you were testing out. in fp3 ollie crashed into you in pits. the quali wasn't any better. the mechanics did whatever they could but you could only get to p6 in q3. the race was another story. absolutely shit pitstops, wrong tyres—and rain. the best you could manage was a p5 after your position tumbled down the order because of a long pit stop.
but it was all roses and sunshines for someone.
"lan." you called out—helmet and gloves gone, hair cascading down (because ofcourse, ofcourse the hairtie snapped) holding your weight ticket in your hand. the british boy, the hometown hero turned around. a cheshire like grin spreading on his face underneath that balaclava, underneath that helmet.
lando walked towards you with open arms. immediately caging you in a hug. you heard his sigh, a sigh of relief muffled from the helmet. his gloved hands immediately coming to a fistful of your hairs—force of habit, that’s what he calls it.
"i'm so proud of you. you deserve it." you muttered against his ear. lando put his visor down as his eyes burned with fresh tears—hand coming to rub your back soothingly. because god, this was all he could ask for. winning on the home soil, with his parents, his fans ( the infamous fluro green sticking out ), and you.
"fuck, i love you so much." lando immediately froze at his words. it's barely been a month since you two started dating after the fateful monaco gp. he knows what people your age call it—love bombing. and he swear that wasn't the intent.
his hands fell from your head, now holding your chin. grey-green eyes meticulously scanning for signs of discomfort. "i—yo—i'm sorry. you don't have to say it back—i—" because what was he even supposed to say before i'm sorry or you don't have to say it back.
you just smiled, put his visor up and pulled him for another hug. "i love you too, you know." you chuckled. "i—i am not trying to love bomb you. i swear!" he exclaimed, swaying your bodies side by side. you couldn't help but chuckle at his words. "you're too old to know all those words. is it some other girl teaching you?" you teased. "darling s'just you. all you...." he whined, holding you tighter.
"but i love you, i really do. like back to the moon, stars, and earth or however that saying goes. like those poetries you read. more than they could every express. more than words could ever express!" he added—pulling away from you. "and this is not love bombing, my dear." you let out a coy smile as he bopped your nose.
"stay around?" he asked. "yeah." you nodded because how could you even think of missing out on this special podium. but just as you turned around he grabbed you by the arm. "where are you going? you said you're staying?" even the helmet couldn't hide the slight panic and neediness of his tone. "i'm just going to infrom someone before toto sends a search party." you replied gently. lando nodded, letting you walk away.
but even as you could still feel his eyes on you. he looked like dido — holding a log, watching aneas leave. you motioned for him to go to the rest of the people waiting for him but he just stayed rooted — as if making sure you got safely to the Mercedes garage. as if you weren’t driving at 300kph awhile ago.
smut, bit mean and jealous oscar, mentions of vrigin reader but this isn't their first time tgt, 5 year age gap, relatively new like 4 months old relationship
the perquisites of loving someone younger—someone whose a virgin—wasn't the fact that he got to take away your virginity. but get to teach you everything just how he like it. and older bf!oscar piastri takes this responsibility very seriously!
and in the moment he didn't like how someone your age—another ninteen year old who think he can have you—was trying to hit on you—very openly in the hotel lobby.
oscar walked over to you—arms wrapping around your waist itself. "hi honey." he said as if you've been married for years. "is this your friend?" he asked. "oh no, no, no." you were quick to deny in that honey-sweet voice. the same voice that blurred the entire room for oscar. all he could focus on was you, you, you, you, and you.
his mind chanted your name, his heart skipped a beat for you, every flutter of his eyelash was for you. "well then i suppose i could borrow you for now." he didn't even look at the guy or waited for your response before he dragged you with him inside his hotel room.
"on your knees now." he ordered as he sat on the edge of the bed tossing aside his jeans. this wasn't a question nor a request. it was a cold hard order from your boyfriend and you did as you were told. you took his hardened cock out of his boxers. doing exactly like he taught you—spitting on it first, licking the tip a couple times before slowly taking in his length.
oscar closed his eyes and sighed as he felt your warm mouth against his cock. "god, you wouldn't last a day with a boy like that. you would be beggin' for me by the end of the night." he thrusted his hips into your face making you gag and sputter on his cock.
oscar's hands reached down to be tangled in your hairs. god he loved how soft your hairs were—felt so nice to pull onto them. but oscar hated how things were so slow tonight, even if he was the one to teach you this. you gagged and sputtered all over his cock as bucked his hips upward and pushed your head down. oscar kept the grip on your hairs as you took his entire length now.
oscar groaned his cock hit the back of your throat. "jesus–baby—keep doing this." he grunted. and ofcourse you were no one to disobey. oscar's breathing grew ragged, his eyes fluttering closed as he lost himself in the sensation. "look at me." he ordered, his voice hoarse with need. you looked up—eyes locked on his as you continued to bob you head up and down—cheeks hollowing with each suck. "good." he grunted, his hand moving to the back of your head, pushing you down even further. "keep going, baby." your eyes watered up as you felt his grip on your hairs tighten. oscar's hand moved from your head to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away a tear that had escaped your eye.
the gentleness of the gesture was at odds with his roughness. "you're doing so well," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost affectionate. you gagged as his precum slipped down your throat. oscar—once again—pushed your head down as he came in your mouth. he moaned, his voice a desperate plea. "swallow it." and just like that, he came, his release filling your mouth with warm, salty liquid. "you better swallow it all." he groaned. you gagged, trying to take it all in as he had demanded.
the whiplash was almost shocking as he got you off your knees and on his lap. his lips immediately finding yours—tongue snaking in to taste himself. because he couldn't get enough of the flavor of himself in your mouth. filthy? probably yes but that was oscar for you. "god, you're so sweet for me pretty girl." he muttered against your lips. "so sweet and let me use you like a toy. you deserve a reward don't you think." you gasped as he bit your neck. oscar laid you on your back.
he bunched up your dress—not caring to even remove it and swiftly removing your panties. "you're so wet for me." he muttered against the fold of your thigh. "oscar..." you whined, desperately wanting him to do something. "such a desperate little thing." he chuckled, fingers pinching your clit making you moan. you gasped as he bit your inner thigh—littering hickeys between both your legs. you were already twiching under him with want. "baby.." you pouted. and that's what oscar liked, always at his mercy.
he licked your folds—hearing how you moaned at his little action. oscar lapped at your pussy, his movements rough and uncoordinated, driven by his inebriated haze of you on his tongue. bastard was spelling his name against your cunt. "you’re going to feel my name for days. that’s the goal, sweetheart." he muttered against your cunt. his hand slid up her body, cupping her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple.
your legs threatened to close as the knot formed in your stomach. "don't you dare shut me out." he pushed away one of your legs. your back arched off the bed as your hand found his fluffy hair. oscar didn't care if you pulled onto his hairs, just as long as you didn't shut him out. "there it is. my name. it suits you better." he mumbled when you moaned his name. and god it drove him crazy. the way you say his name in that sweet little voice—it almost made him want to only ever want to hear you say his name like nothing else matters.
"you sound so pretty when you forget yourself. when all you know is me." you pulled onto his hairs tighter as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. lewd noises left your mouth rather loudly as he stroaked your clit. oscar couldn't help but chuckle darkly as your hips bucked up for more friction. "such a little slut." he mumbled. "cum for me baby." oscar muttered as he sped up his movements. your thighs trembled as you came all over his mouth.
you twitched as he licked you up clean. oscar kissed his way up—letting you taste on him. "you were so good for me baby." he kissed your forehead. one hand cupping your face as he rested his forehead against yours. "you always are, my dear." he added.
jealous oscar 💤 being touchy with his best friend…….. 👀 sfw/ nsfw ill take whatever U throw my Way. loveu 🤍
life was a willow and it bent right to your wind
okay i'm sorry because there's not too much of jealous oscar because i lowkey focused too much on the plot but this is soooooo soft and fluffy 😭😭
ahhhhhh i love this. because imagine smth like you've been frnds with oscar since boarding school. and you two met in, well let's js say an strange way. there’d been a rumor going around that you liked him, all because you’d spoken maybe twice. the whispers spread faster than wildfire until one afternoon you’d marched up to him after class, "mate," you’d said. "don’t believe those rumors. i don't like you romantically." and instead of being offended, he’d just grinned and that’s how the two of you started talking for real.
fast forward a few years, and somehow oscar piastri had made a home out of your apartment. he was currently sprawled across your bed, limbs hanging off like a cat, while you sat at your vanity doing your makeup.
"do i really have to go?" oscar stretched on your bed. "she hand delivered the invitation osc." you rolled eyes, barely sparing him a glance as you did your makeup at your vanity. "i'm just gonna go there to object the honestly. he's a toxic guy anyway." he rolled onto his back, picking up your phone that started ringing. "jesus take your phone off of silent for once." he scoffed, "it's nia." "put it on speaker." you mumbled, trying to get the eyeliner right.
"hii babe!!! i am so excited for us all to meet again. by the way i forgot to mention it on the invite but you can bring your boyfriend." his head snapped up instantly, eyebrows furrowed, because who the fuck is this boyfriend that he's never heard of. "yeah, sure." you laughed nervously, avoiding oscar's intriguing gaze. the second the call ended, he sat up. "okay, what? who’s this boyfriend i've apparently never heard of?"
you froze, then turned around slowly. "okay, listen, she’s been trying to set me up with some guy from school, and I panicked! I told her I already had a boyfriend." you explained, moving to get your bracelet. "oh and where are you going to get a boyfriend in what?" he looked at his watch mockingly, "ten minutes. yeah, no chance. guess I’ll just tell nia her matchmaking career’s officially over." you snapped your head toward him, earrings still in hand. "wait. wait, wait, no. you can’t do that." "why not?" he raised a brow.
"because then she’ll think I lied just to avoid her setup—"
"you did lie to avoid her setup."
"that’s not the point!" you groaned, "ugh, she’s never gonna shut up about it if she finds out." oscar smirked, folding his arms. "so what you’re saying is—you need a stand-in boyfriend." you glared. "don’t even say it."
"oh, come on." he straightened, that annoyingly self-satisfied grin tugging at his lips. "you’re the one who created this whole mess. I’m just offering a solution."
you eyed him in the mirror, watching as he moved behind you, fixing the collar of his shirt like he was already preparing for the role. you paused. then your eyes flicked up to meet his. he caught it immediately. "oh, no. no no no."
"come on, osc, it’s just for one night!"
"no?! you’re thinking out of your league now! i'm way out of league so i’m not pretending to be your boyfriend." he said, voice firm, though his lips twitched like he was already giving in. you stepped closer, tilting your head, that mischievous little smile tugging at your lips. "okay, one fuck you. and two, what’s the worst that could happen? you already sleep on my bed half the time." he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "you’re going to owe me for this." "yeah, yeah." you rolled your eyes, handing him his jacket. "but you’re driving." "obviously." he muttered, standing up and slipping it on.
it felt less like wedding and more like reunion. but then again, nia was a social butterfly so seeing so many familiar faces didn't faze you. the night was a blur of champagne, too-loud laughter, and people pretending they hadn’t stalked each other’s linkedIns before showing up. you and oscar had slipped into the rhythm easily—him charming everyone with that soft-spoken smile, you being pulled into a circle of old classmates who suddenly acted like they’d always been your best friends.
at some point, you got tangled up with a few girls you hadn’t seen in years and oscar wandered off to talk to a couple of guys from the cricket team. you caught his eyes across the room once—he gave you a lazy grin and a mock salute before turning back to his conversation. you were mid-conversation, laughing at something mildly funny, when a familiar voice joined in.
"didn’t expect to see you here." a tall guy said, grinning. ethan, the same ethan who used to sit behind you in maths and also someone you never talked to. you gave him a polite smile. "yeah, it’s been a while." he leaned a little closer—too close. "you look… different. better, actually." you wanted to roll your eyes because sure you did look better than before but didn’t mean you essentially 'ugly' at school. instead, you gave him a tight lipped smile, trying to stay diplomatic. "thanks, ethan."
but then he was still there, lingering, ordering you a drink even though you already had one. ethan laughed at something you said, his hand brushing your arm lightly, and that was apparently oscar’s cue. you didn’t even see him walk up, but suddenly there was a familiar arm sliding around your waist—firm, possessive, and a little too natural for something supposedly fake.
"hey, sweetheart." his’s voice came low, close to your ear, his breath warm against your neck. "sorry i took so long." you blinked, completely caught off guard. ethan straightened, " oh hey oscar. still best friend i see." "dating actually, i'm her boyfriend." oscar supplied smoothly, smiling just enough to make it convincing. but his hand didn’t leave your waist. if anything, it tightened, thumb rubbing a slow circle against your hip in a way that made your knees threaten to give out. "you know formula one, so trying to keep things lowkey."
"oh." ethan said, tone shifting awkwardly. "didn’t know that." oscar hummed, eyes locked on yours now instead of ethan. "it’s a pretty new thing. but it’s good, you know? she’s kind of hard to resist." ethan mumbled something about getting another drink and walked away, leaving you and oscar still standing way too close. "you know, if this f1 gig doesn't work you. you can try your hand at acting." you glared at him, trying to distract yourself of the heat that crept up your neck. "i know right?!" he mused, caging you in his arms and pulling you closer. "i'm just multi-talented." that earned him a hit on his chest.
"never again" you mumbled asyou unlock your apartment door. "next time nia calls for baby shower tell her i died." oscar shut the door behind you, chuckling under his breath. "you’re welcome, by the way, for saving you from ethan’s intense staring problem." you spun on your heel, pointing at him dramatically. "you were insufferable. you couldn’t just say you were my boyfriend, you had to add ‘she’s hard to resist’? who even says that?” he just shrugged, leaning casually against the wall like he hadn’t turned your brain to static an hour ago. "seemed believable."
you shot him a glare, then flopped onto the couch with a groan. "god, i’m so done with everyone from that school." "everyone?" he teased, walking toward you. "you don’t count." you shifted. "you’re furniture at this point." "furniture?" he repeated, feigning offense as he crouched down beside you. "you mean to tell me you dragged your furniture to a wedding just to fake-date it?" "retty much." you shrugged, kicking your legs up over the armrest.
and that’s when it happened.
he stood up, trying to not step over your outstretched legs, but his foot caught on your ankle. there was a startled "shit—" and before you could even process it, his weight crashed down on top of you. you both froze. the air left your lungs, not from the fall, but from the sudden, perfect closeness—his hand braced beside your head, his face inches from yours. the warmth of him pressed against you, his heartbeat pounding just as fast as yours.
you didn’t know who moved first. maybe it was him leaning closer, or maybe it was you forgetting to pull away. either way, the distance vanished. his lips brushed yours, soft and unsure at first—like testing the waters. then, the hesitation cracked, and he kissed you properly. the kind of kiss that leaves no room for pretending, the kind that feels like it’s been waiting for years to happen.
his hand slid up to your jaw, tilting your face toward him. you tasted the faint trace of champagne still on his tongue, the warmth of him pressing closer. when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. both of you were still trying to catch your breath. "so…” he said softly, a grin breaking through. "still think it’s fake?" you laughed breathlessly, tugging him closer again. "ask me after the next one."
the soft morning glow spilled across the apartment, painting everything gold. you padded toward the kitchen, the floor cool against your feet. And there he was—oscar piastri, leaning against the counter in grey sweats, spatula in hand. he behind when he heard you. the grin that crossed his face was sleepy, boyish, and teasing girn you've known for years.
he flipped the egg, nodding toward the shirt he wore last night now draped on you. "looks better on you." "i'm a good model." you mumbled hopping onto the kitchen counter. he smirked, sliding a mug toward you. "coffee. two sugars. don’t say your boyfriend doesn't know you." "don't you have better things to do?" you rolled your eyes, hiding your smile behind the coffee cup.
"i do need to go to mtc but thought i'd make breakfast. you know… help you recover." he leaned forward, hands planted on the counter on either side of you. "recover from what exactly?" you chuckled knowing well what he was talking about. he shrugged as he took your mug, taking a sip himself. "oh, nothing. just… last night. you know, in general."
"i won't be a good boyfriend if i just felt." he muttered, kissing your cheeks. "god, you're gonna abuse that title aren't you." you smiled relishing in the soft after glow. "mhmm, i waited years for this so i deserve it." he kissed your temple "osc, the eggs are gonna burn giggled as he started placing soft butterfly kisses around your face. "fuck it." he muttered but still turning off the gas before capturing your lips against his.
because a man who yearns, is a man who earns [ 18+ ]
complicated relationship, jealous!lando, mentions of imbalanced power dyanamic
sugar daddy!lando is the biggest yearner. for god's sake he's been the teacher, principal, & the headmaster of the school your generation graduated from. this entire "no strings" or "casual intimacy" settings never bothered him until now.
until now that he was to bear with — and not roll his eyes — guys your age trying to woo you with cringe ( atleast in his very humble opinion ) pickup lines. even he used better lines when he was young, dumb, & 20. and ofcourse, of-fucking-course your oblivious self doesn't really decode those stupid gestures. so whenever a guy tells you "you look cuter in pink" you think it's a compliment, when a guy puts his arm around your shoulder you think that's friendly, when a guy asks "if you can help me with that" you think he's asking for your notes.
it’s one of those nights where lando’s patience has officially worn thinner than his tie after a board meeting. he’s been watching your little radio silence all day — not in a creepy way, no, he respects boundaries — but in that restless, "what the hell is she doing?" way. he sent a text around noon, a casual "don’t forget to eat something before your lecture, sweetheart." and got nothing. no reply, no double tap, no nothing. then he saw you were active an hour later and posted an Instagram story — the one from the concert.
and oh, that photo.
you in that stupidly cute pink dress he bought you weeks ago, hair falling in soft waves, a lovely smile on your face. and that guy’s arm around your shoulders. lando swears he almost threw his phone. he gives you all of his — affection, patience, care, and love — all for some idiot guy to wrap his arm around your shoulder the same guy who also happens to be the guy who looks at you as if you're the only person in this world. what also rattles him more is that he's actually your age.
and it didn't take long for him figure out the sole reason you hesitated so much for a relationship with him was because of the age gap, the power imbalances. you were just afraid of how it would play out. sure he could give you the literal stars if you asked but if there's something — perhaps the only thing — out of his control is the age. seeing an idiot guy who wouldn't even do half things he does, even if that bastard had infinite money, all cozy with you makes him livid.
but ofcourse not at you, not his darling. how can he ever be upset with his pretty girl, the sweetest girl he's ever known.
the apartment door opens with a clumsy push, laughter trailing in behind you. you stumbles in with your heels dangling from one hand, hair a little messy, cheeks flushed pink. you're glowing, and maybe it’s the alcohol or maybe it’s that post-concert joy, but you look so young and so alive that his breath stutters for a second. "lan?" you asked, turning on the lights. "jesus why are you sitting in the dark like some villan?" throwing your bag on the counter you walked towards the couch.
"i don't know, you tell me." he sighed watching as you rested your chin on his shoulder and wrapped your arms him. snuggling into him already, making it so hard for him to be mad. "you sound mad." you mumbled. he looked at you before sighing, uncrossing his arms and holding you. "i'm not mad at you darling." he said as he kissed your temple. "but who was that guy in you story?" "oh so you're jealous?" you raised a brow, leaning into him even more.
lando couldn't answer. because what he was supposed to say? he knew he had no rights being jealous because for fuck's sake you weren’t even his girlfriend. "you're not my boyfriend. i hope you know that." you smirked, throwing all those blurred lines in his face as if all those times he's made you cum, kissed you, fed you, shared same utensils, drank from the very place your lips touched the rim of the bottle didn't mean anything.
"do you realize the fucking irony of it?" he scoffed. and he was true. you were all over him — freshly tipsy after a small trip to club post concert, arms looped around him, chin on his shoulder, being called endearments, and saying he wasn’t your boyfriend. you grinned, "baby, he's just a friend." you moved onto his lap, pink dress riding up as his hands moved to your hip. "i swear i have only eyes for you." and gosh, once again he feels his heart loosing to your sickeningly sweet words and even sweeter smile. "fuck you're gonna be the death of me." he muttered pressing his forehead against yours.
you leaned down to kiss lips as if smoothing his ego and jealousy with a kiss. the kiss starts slow, your soft lips against him but then your fingers fist in his shirt, and that’s it. it deepens fast—hungry, messy, completely unplanned. your laughter breaks against his mouth when he mutters something that sounds a lot like "you’re impossible" and you tilt your head to kiss him again, harder this time. he shifts, pulling your closer until you're fully straddling him, the hem of your dress brushing his wrists. the taste of wine on your tongue, your perfume on his skin—it’s too much, too easy to get lost in.
"lan—" you breathe, and it’s barely a sound, more a plea than a name. breath hitching when he nips at your collarbone. your hands slide up, curling around the back of his neck, nails grazing lightly. he pulled away with a proud, predatory gaze on you, his lips curling into a smirk, "you—" thumb moving to rub the lipstick on your mouth, "are such a pretty mess for me, darling."
neither of you know when it happened or matter of fact how. all you remember is him getting up — lips still peppering hickeys or on your lips — and stumbling into your bedroom, stripping you of your dress. next thing you remember is his cock slipping in and out of you, his name falling off of your lips so easily. "say my name again. let me hear it from that pretty little mouth I paid to ruin." he mumbles, curls sticking against his sweaty forhead.
"all these boys your age? they wouldn’t last a second with you."
"what’s wrong sweetheart? thought you wanted to play with men and not those stupid boys huh?"
"they look at you and they see something they can’t afford. and I don’t share what’s mine." and god, the way he felt your tight cunt milking his cock. with your back arching off the bed, you came undone. his hands dipped between you two, strumming your clit — desperately trying to pull yet another orgasm out of you as chased his own high. you felt unbearably tight against him. getting of your moans, he let pleasure wash all over him.
lando collapsed on you. "I don’t mean to scare you, darling. I just— I can’t stand the thought of anyone else having you." he mumbles, though the last sentence more for him than for you. you curled up against him, waving off his apologises — getting down from your high as you peppered kisses against his bare chest before nuzzling closer. lando looked at you, eyes dropping low. he pressed a kiss on your temple. the three words, "i love you", dying on his tongue once again.
