Hi Babe I’m Here From The Dms But. Speaking Of Brain Rot, Thinking Abt Fwb Lando Again Where U Stay

Oscar mocking you/being a little shit during sex🤭🤭🤭🤭

okay so ages ago i had this oscar idea but I didn't know how to write it so I've linked the two lmao - I ALSO MADE HER CARLOS'S LITTLEST SISTER

Warnings: fingering, 'too big, won't fit' trope (idk what we call that), smut, p in v, multiple orgasms, finger sucking, author doesn't rly know what she's doing but is trying lmao

"Osc," she whined as he pushed his fingers into her sopping cunt.

Oscar couldn't stop the way he grinned down her at, watching her writhe. God, what a sight. "Got to open you up," he said.

It didn't seem fair that he was dressed and she wasn't. She'd already made a mess on his jeans, one that Oscar wore with pride. How would Carlos feel if he saw his sister like this? On her back, being readied for Oscar's cock.

"I can't," she cried, shaking her head from side to side as Oscar pushed her towards her second orgasm of the evening.

Oscar laughed at her. He actually fucking laughed. The sound had her clenching around his fingers, and Oscar only laughed harder, laugh mocking.

And, when she came around his fingers, Oscar pulled out. "C'mere," he said, pulling her to a sitting position. He tapped her lips with his cum soaked fingers and she opened wide. She knew exactly what he wanted, wrapped her lips around his fingers and sucked them clean.

As he freed himself from his jeans, her eyes went wide. She let out a cry as she looked at him, his meaty fucking cock. That thing was a third fucking leg.

"Holy shit, Osc," she said as she released his fingers from her mouth. "That's not gonna fit, no way!"

He laid her down and climbed on top of her. Oscar didn't slide himself in right away. He laid his cock on top of her, showing her just how deep he was gonna be.

"I'm literally gonna split you in two," he said through giggles.

But then the giggles stopped and he gently caressed her face. "You definitely wanna do this?" He asked softly. She nodded her head and Oscar kissed her sweetly. "Tell me if it hurts," he said and squeezed her hand.

Taking his monstrous length in one hand, he ran the head through her folds before slowly pushing in.

BE MEAN TO ME

★ oscar piastri x reader !

cw: SMUT, cockwarming, orgasm denial, degrading, crying, swearing, dom!oscar, sub!reader

"oscar, please," you whine, shifting restlessly in his lap. the two of you had gotten into a slight disagreement after his race, and now you're being subjected to the ultimate punishment: cockwarming.

"what is it now, baby?" he teases, fully aware of the torment he's putting you through.

oscar remains composed, his cock still buried snug inside your warm cunt. you can feel every inch of him, and the way he's filling you completely but remaining motionless is torture.

"please, move. please," you whine, body aching for his touch. "this is so frustrating!" you cry out, hands clutching at his shoulders as you try to roll your hips.

oscar watches you drop your head to his shoulder in defeat, too exhausted and annoyed to continue grinding on his lap without receiving any attention.

he's mesmerised by the way his fat tip prods at your cervix with each slight roll of your hips that has your eyes welling with tears.

you can't help but pout, lower lip trembling as you try to hold back the whimpers that escape your throat.

"made me lose, babe," there's a teasing edge to oscar's tone, but underneath it, you can sense the genuine disappointment. "don't cry—'s your fault," he brings a hand up to wipe away a tear that runs down your cheek.

the way your body responds to him, the way you clench around him with every breath, drives him fucking crazy.

"you need to learn, love," his voice drips with mock sympathy. "next time, maybe you'll think twice before running that smart mouth of yours."

the underlying message is clear in his words. he wants you to behave, simple as that.

you grip his shoulders tightly as you roll your hips. your movements are clumsy and each attempt to fuck yourself on his cock is met with resistance as oscar's strong hands remain firmly on your waist.

"uh-uh," he tuts. "we're not gonna do that, 'kay?"

tears of frustration prick at your eyes. "oscar, please. ngh, need more."

suddenly, his hips buck up into you, causing you to let out a high-pitched yelp. "oscar!" you gasp, but just as quickly as the movement comes, it stops. he sits there with his cock still stuffed inside you.

you repeat his name, this time sounding more upset. "oscar."

"something wrong, sweetheart?" he asks innocently. "use your words, baby. can't promise i'll listen, though."

"i'm sorry—so sorry, osc. jus' need you to fuck me. can't take it anymore, hurts so bad." you blabber, the words spilling from your lips without a second thought.

oscar rolls his eyes. "you sound so pathetic that it almost makes me wanna give you what you want."

your breath hitches when you feel him pick up his pace ever so slightly, each movement sending waves of pleasure through your body. "osc—keep going, please, keep going!"

but just as you feel the tension building to a breaking point, he stops again. the loss of movement makes you sob.

"just hurry up and fuck me!" you complain, but instantly regret your choice of words when oscar responds with a firm, "right, that's it."

oscar lifts you from the chair, keeping his cock buried inside of you. before you can fully process what's happening, he slams you down onto the mattress.

"there you go again, always with that mouth of yours," he grunts. "when are you going to learn that it gets you in trouble?"

oscar hisses sharply as he pulls his dick out of your warm, slick cunt, the sudden loss of contact making you gasp.

he takes a moment to look down at you before sliding back into you with a forceful, deliberate thrust. your body instinctively pulls him back in, greedily welcoming him with a sweet grip.

oscar groans as he begins to fuck you with a rough rhythm. his cock stretches you to your limits that has you arching your back, lips parted and everything.

"don't get all dumb on me now," he swats at your thigh. "this is what you wanted, yeah?"

you want to say something, anything, but the words won't come. all you can do is moan and whimper, your mind too fogged with pleasure to form coherent sentences. oscar's relentless pace leaves you no room to think.

oscar continues to piston in and out of you, each thrust driving the thick head of his cock deep against your cervix. your nails dig into his back, treating it like a chalkboard as you cling to him for support. it only seems to spur him on.

"you've gone all quiet, baby. all that attitude gone, huh?" he taunts. "m'gonna fuck some manners into you."

his cock almost forces an answer out of you with a particularly harsh snap of his hips. you can feel every ridge and vein of his cock as it drags against your inner walls.

"look at that pretty face, you're loving this, aren't ya? don't need that smart mouth to tell me that."

© kissedsuns

HII HELLO UM CONGRATS ON 1K!!! could i get 41, 46 & 47 with charles leclerc? thanks twin love ur work🤟🤟

HOW MANY SECRETS CAN YOU KEEP?

1K SPECIAL - CL16

Panty stealing + Overstimulation + Femdom

SUMMARY: You catch Charles snooping through your things, and you decide to teach him a proper lesson…

WORD COUNT: 1.2K

WARNINGS: Handjob, overstimulation, Submissive Pervert!Charles, panty sniffing, smut, this was filthy omfg

FEATURING: Charles Leclerc x Reader

NOTE: First Charles fic? I actually can’t believe it. I love Charles :(

IT STARTED AS A ONE TIME THING. That’s how most bad habits begin—little accidents that turn into a sort of addiction. Charles didn’t mean to, but when he was gathering your clothes to take down to the laundry room, he pocketed a pair of underwear that fell out. It was unintentional, and he meant to put them in with the rest of the clothes, but it totally slipped his mind.

Later, when he was missing you bad, he just happened to stumble across them again. He pulled them out innocently, but the smell hit his nose as something feral churned within him. He brought them to his nose, desperately inhaling the scent that lingered: Your delicious pussy.

He didn’t mean to, he swears, but he found himself stroking his own cock, your panties wrapped tight around his shaft. He threw them in the wash after coating them in his sticky cum, promising to never commit such a filthy act again.

But he did anyway.

The next few times just… Happened, you know? You guys finished up, and when he went to gather a towel to clean you up, he just kept scooping the panties up and stuffing them into the pockets of his sweatpants, using them once again—long after you had fallen asleep, full and satisfied. Charles couldn’t believe how oblivious you were. You’d ask him if he knew where your underwear disappeared to, he’d deny it, and then a day later they’d appear in your drawers like nothing happened. You didn’t have a clue.

Or, at least he thought that.

You were fully aware of what he was doing. You knew because one day you happened to wake up after he had essentially fucked you to sleep, your ears immediately met with his stifled groans and whimpers as he jacked off into your lacy undergarments. You found it amusing, so you let him carry on, wondering how far he’d take it.

A lot further than you expected, that’s for sure.

It was nice having Charles play the dominant role, but eventually it got to be tiring always being the one out of control. So, you decided to confront him about his little… Thievery.

You opened your bedroom door, poking your head inside. There he was, shuffling through your underwear drawer like he was looking for a specific pair. You leaned against the frame, your arms crossed over your chest. He had yet to notice you until you cleared your throat.

The racer froze.

“Whatcha doin?” You smirked. Charles slowly spun around, staring at you with wide, unblinking eyes. You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to spawn in some excuse.

“I, uh…” He cleared his own throat and scratched the back of his neck. “I was just putting your clothes away.”

“What clothes?”

“The ones I washed…”

You blinked, shaking your head. “I did the laundry, Charlie,” You purred, swaying your hips as you walked towards him. “I know what you’ve been doing, I’m not stupid.”

“What… What do you mean, mon ange?” His breath was light. Charles looked down at you, a bead of sweat rolling down his forehead. He was slowly beginning to crack.

“You know what I mean.” You grabbed him by the collar, pushing him back against the bed. He fell back to sit on the edge, tilting his head back to look up at you. “You’ve been stealing my panties,” You began as you climbed onto his lap, trailing your fingers up his chest. “Jerking off with them.”

He swallowed thickly, scooting back further with your guidance. Charles had his back against the headboard, his legs sprawled out in front of him. He wanted to say something—come up with a witty remark and turn things around—but he couldn’t. Not when you were climbing over the bed like an animal in heat, kissing his neck so sensually.

“I think you deserve to be punished.” You nipped at his earlobe. Your delicate hands pawed at his pants, palming his erection and drawing out a whine from his pillowy lips, wet from his own saliva after he darted his tongue out nervously.

“Please-” He shuddered, eyes squeezed shut.

“Please what?”

You watched as his head tilted forward, eyes opening just to stare at his growing erection with heavy eyelids. “Please punish me.”

You giggled, tugging on his hair. You forced his head back, making him lock eyes with you. “Good boy.”

You freed his aching cock so mercifully, your soft palms dragging up and down the underside of his pretty cock. The tip was leaking pre-cum, painted a soft rosy red from the strain against his clothing. He groaned, gripping the sheets and trying to restrain himself from fucking his dick against your hand. Be cool, Charles.

“Yeah, you like that?” You hummed in a sweet honeyed tone that nearly made him bust prematurely.

“Yes,” He whimpered, his mouth slightly agape and his eyebrows knitted together. You giggled at the sight, pressing a kiss to his forehead as a form of appraisal. He shuddered upon contact.

You wrapped your hands around him now, applying just slight pressure on the base. You ran the thumb of your other finger across the tip, and Charles let out the most delicious little cry. His hips jerked upwards, desperate for friction.

“You’re so pretty, Charles.” You tilted his chin up. “Look at me, pretty boy.”

You started to stroke him, and every muscle in his body twitched. His moans were beautiful, making your own arousal grow. You then applied your other hand to the equation, which only made Charles get louder. He was close. You could tell—his breath got caught in his throat, and his loud cries turned into breathy little whines.

And then he came. His cum shot out from the tip, coating your hands in the sticky white substance, as well as his own stomach, which was now visible as his shirt rode up. You hummed, tutting with disappointment.

“You’re supposed to tell me when you’re gonna come, Char.” You sat up on your knees, shimmying out of your pajama pants. He eyed your pajamas, eyelids heavy as he came down from his previous orgasm. “Let’s try again.”

You slid your panties off, and brought them to his nose. He greedily inhaled your scent, a shaky hand grabbing the garment to further press it against his nose. You let go, and he continued to hold on for dear life.

You started to stroke him again, nails raking the sensitive skin. His sounds were muffled this time, teeth gripping the skimpy fabric. He rutted into your hands, desperate to come again. You smirked, whispering praises of encouragement.

“You gonna come, Charles? Use your words, baby.” You sped up, and so did his noisy cries.

“I’m coming, mon ange-! Please, let me come!”

“Good boy. Come for me, yes,” And with your approval, he released yet another spurt of his seed. He slumped back against the headboard, eyes shut. His consciousness was slowly slipping away. Charles gasped and panted for breath.

“Please, no more…”

“You did so good, Charles.” You wiped your hands on his thighs, kissing his cheeks and nose gently. You peppered him with loving kisses. “I hope you learned your lesson.”

EURO FINAL - LANDO NORRIS

summary: you go to the euro final with your boyfriend

warnings: fluff and smut

Lando and I were arriving at the Olympiastadion in Berlin for the final of Euro 2024. Lando was obviously cheering for England, the country where he was born and raised, while I was cheering for Spain, my second home.

“Our seats are 12 and 13” I nod and start looking for our seats. I walk down a few rows and finally find the two unoccupied seats.

“Lan, over here. Got it” Lando walks over to me and we sit down in our seats. We watch the players train until they finally go inside to prepare for the game.

“If England win, you sleep on the sofa.” Lando looks at me with confusion and arched eyebrows.

“Why? I'm not the one playing for England to win” I shake my shoulders and look to the front where some people are starting to dance

“But you're going to sleep on the sofa anyway” He lets out a low laugh and looks ahead like me, watching the show until the players from both teams start to enter the field. We started clapping and then stood up for the anthems. For the next 45 minutes, we watched the game with a few shouts and sighs until half-time, when it was still 0:0.

“I'm going to the bar to get something to drink, do you want anything?” I hear Lando's voice as I watch the players leave for the changing rooms.

“Hm, yes. A pineapple juice please. Do you want me to go with you?” He shakes his head negatively and leaves a quick peck on my lips.

“No need beautiful, I'll be right back with your drink” Lando goes to the bar while I stay on my cell phone. Two girls come up to me and ask for some photos and I smile and accept. Lando arrives and sits down next to me, sipping his drink.

“Am I really going to have to sleep on the sofa if Spain lose?” A smile grew on my face as I sipped my juice

“I don't know, I'll think about it. Pierre had to sleep on the sofa when France eliminated Portugal.” Lando's eyes widen and he looks at me. He stays silent for a few seconds and then looks at me again.

“Really?” I nod and take another sip of my drink, even though I don't know if it's true or not, I decide to say it.

“ Really.” The second half begins and in the first few minutes, Spain scores a goal, causing me to get up from my chair and Lando to let out a sigh.

“AH, Spain is winning” He looks at me with his face closed and his jaw clenched.

“Yes, I saw it” I sit back in my chair and smile until England score a goal a few minutes later. I roll my eyes as Lando celebrates the goal. He sits back in the chair next to me and puts his hand on my leg as I cross my arms over my chest

“It's the same now” He smiles and I continue with my face closed and my arms against my chest.

“I don't like you” He lets out a laugh and squeezes my leg.

“I love you too” The game continues and Spain score a goal in the last minutes of the game. When the referee blows the final whistle, I jump out of my chair, shouting happily. Lando, even though his team has lost, looks at me with a smile on his face.

“What?” I ask as he continues to smile at me

“I don't care if my country lost, I like to see you happy.” I let out a laugh and kiss Lando on the cheek.

“You're going to sleep on the sofa anyway,” he rolls his eyes and my smile grows. After the celebrations and me making Lando stay in the stadium to watch the players lift the cup, we get in the car to go to the hotel.

When we get to our hotel room, I quickly take off the jacket Lando lent me and put it on the back of the chair.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks as he approaches me, making me feel his warm breath on my ear and his hands on my hips, which makes me smile. I turn to Lando and wrap my arms around his neck

“Not now. I want to do something first” Lando smiles and gently removes my Spain T-shirt. He throws the fabric on the floor and pushes me lightly onto the bed, then gets on top of me and carefully runs his hands over my body.

“What do you want to do, baby?” Lando smirks and unzips my pants, while I take my hands in his, pulling his boxers and jeans down to his knees.

“I want you,” I whisper before joining my mouth to his, then starting to run my hands down his shirt, trying to pull it up. Lando lets out a laugh and stands up a little, starting to undo the buttons. He finally throws his shirt on the floor and brings our mouths together again

He runs one of his hands down my leg and ends up on my thigh. I move my hips, wanting more friction, but Lando holds my waist, not letting me move. He reaches his fingers down to the fabric of my panties and pulls them down my legs, tossing them in the same place as his shirt and my t-shirt.

“As beautiful as ever babygirl” Lando whispers against my skin and seconds later I let out a loud moan, feeling his mouth between my legs. His tongue dances across my pussy and I try to move my waist, but he wraps his hands around my stomach, holding me down.

“Lan...baby, please,” I beg Lando as I feel his tongue slip in and out of me. He lets out a few grunts against my core and I let more moans escape my mouth. He puts his thumb on my clitoris playing with me as he pulls his mouth away from me a little.

“Come on baby, I want you to cum,” he whispers before putting his mouth on me again, feeling a tremor run through my legs and my orgasm hit me.

“That's it baby” He stands up and completely removes his pants and boxers. Lando lies back on top of me and runs the tip of his cock over my lips and clitoris.

“Lan, please...I need you,” I sigh and close my eyes as he enters me in one thrust.

“Fuck baby... I won't last long” He puts his head between my neck and starts thrusting rapidly into me. I grab his back and dig my nails into his skin. I scream out Lando's name, wrapping my legs around his waist.

Lando starts leaving kisses on my neck and running his hand down my body, squeezing whatever he can. My fingers curl in his curls and I let out one last cry before of reaching my orgasm. Lando let his thrusts get stronger and faster as he let out several grunts

“Baby... I'm going to cum inside you” I bite my lips through the overstimulation and nod. I feel the ropes of Lando's cum inside me, making me let out a few more moans.

After a few seconds, he pulls out of me and gets up to go to the bathroom. He comes back with a towel and wipes me down my thighs and between my legs. A few minutes later, he lies down next to me and takes a deep breath, smiling.

“Spain may have won the Euro, but I won today too.” I let out a laugh and turn over on my stomach, resting my head on his chest.

“You always win when you're with me”

A/N: Let me know if you like it! Thank you <3

Practice

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader x Paul Aron

A/N: I really wasn't going to post anything on Tumblr for a while and to just use the anger and betrayal I feel inside of me to write as a form of an outlet. I've had this request done for a while but with everything going on I didn't want to post it but I already feel bad to the person that requested it for keeping them waiting for so long and since Oscar won today, I feel like this is an appropriate time.

After posting this, I do not know how long until I post again but know whenever I do decide it is the right time for me (mentally) to come back, I will have lots of stories to post along with writing more.

Again, thank you to everyone who has reached out to me and wishing me well and reblogging that post along with sending requests to other writers asking them to spread the word and to block and report that person, I do see them and I do really appreciate all the support.

Farewell, for now. I will see you all again soon.

Requested (idk where the actual ask went but I did write it in my notes app where I do rough drafts): Please could you do a story Oscar piastri x y/n x paul aron smut I'm dying for the two of them 🔥 @deepestrunawaykitty

SMUT

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F1 Masterlist

It was a hot July Saturday night, and I felt my heart race as I entered the club with my boyfriend, Oscar. The bass pumped through my body, setting the tone for a night of pure, unadulterated pleasure. I wore a tight, black dress that hugged my body in all the right places. my long hair fell loosely and my eyes sparkled with anticipation. Oscar looked dashing as always, his brown hair tussled, and that seductive smirk playing on his lips. He was a Formula 1 driver, and his bad-boy charm had me hooked from the start.

As we made our way through the crowd, hands brushing against each other, the familiar lyrics of Drake's "Practice" filled the room. This was our song, the one that played on repeat during our steamy make-out sessions. Oscar leaned in close, his hot breath tickling my ear as he whispered, "You know what this song does to me, babe. It makes me want to take you right here on the dance floor and show everyone what you're mine."

I felt my core clench at his words, my nipples hardening against the soft fabric of my dress. I loved it when Oscar talked dirty, and tonight, I wanted to give myself completely to him. "Then take me," I purred, pressing my body against his, feeling the hard length of his cock straining against his pants. "I'm yours to do with as you please."

Oscar's hand slid down my back, pulling my body tight against his. With his other hand, he reached under my dress, his fingers teasing the soaked fabric of my panties. "You're so wet already, baby. Who knows, maybe I'll let one of my friends have a taste of this tight pussy tonight." I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed as his fingers found my clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles. "Oh, yes, Oscar," I gasped. "I'm yours to share. Do whatever you want with me."

As if on cue, Oscar's friend, Formula 2 driver Paul Aron, joined us on the dance floor. He was tall and muscular, with a mischievous smile that sent shivers down my spine. "Well, well, well," he said, his eyes roaming over my body. "Looks like someone's ready to play."

"She certainly is," Oscar replied, his hand still working its magic between my thighs. "Why don't you say hello, Paul?"

Paul didn't need to be asked twice. He pulled me against him, his lips crashing down on mine in a passionate kiss. I melted into the kiss, my hands exploring Paul's body as his tongue dueled with mine. I could feel both of their erections pressing into me, and it drove me wild.

Breaking the kiss, Oscar guided me to turn around, pressing my body against the hard planes of Paul's chest. "Such a beautiful view," Oscar murmured, nuzzling my neck. "Seeing your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock while Paul fucks that tight pussy from behind." I moaned, my eyes rolling back as Paul's hands slid up my thighs, lifting my dress. "Mmm, yes, Oscar," I breathed. "I want you both. Please, fuck me. Make me yours."

Without warning, Oscar spun me around and pressed my against the nearby wall, his mouth claiming mine in a voracious kiss. my senses spun out of control as I felt Paul's hands on my waist, lifting me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist as he pressed the length of his hard cock against my aching pussy. "You ready for me, baby?" he growled, grinding his hips against her.

"Please," I begged, my head falling back as Oscar kissed and nibbled on my neck. "Fuck me, Paul. Give it to me hard."

With one swift thrust, Paul impaled me on his thick shaft, burying himself balls-deep inside me. I cried out, my nails digging into Oscar's shoulders as I felt myself stretched around his cock. Paul began to move, his hips snapping as he pounded into me, each thrust hitting me deep and hard.

Oscar's hands roamed over my body, cupping my breasts and pinching my nipples. He kissed and sucked on my neck, marking me as his. "You like that, baby? You like being fucked by my friend while I watch?"

"Yes," I moaned, my head tossing back and forth as pleasure washed over me. "Oh, God, yes. It feels so good, Oscar. Don't stop."

Paul's hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as he thrust faster and harder, his grunts filling the air. I felt her orgasm building, a coil of pleasure tightening in my belly. "I'm gonna cum," I panted, my fingers tangling in Oscar's hair. "Don't stop, please, don't stop."

As if sensing my impending release, Oscar reached between our bodies, his fingers finding my swollen clit. He rubbed me in slow, firm circles, sending shocks of pleasure coursing through me. "That's it, baby, cum for us. Let me taste that sweet pussy."

And cum I did. With a strangled cry, my body shook as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me. My juices flowed around Paul's cock, making his thrusts even more delicious. "That's it, take it," Paul grunted, his hips slapping against my ass. "Cum all over my cock, you dirty girl."

As my orgasm began to subside, Paul quickened his pace, chasing his own release. I felt his cock twitch inside her, and with a final, powerful thrust, he filled me with his hot cum. "Fuck, yes," he groaned, his body trembling as he emptied himself inside me.

But the night was far from over.

After a brief respite, Oscar led us to a more secluded area of the club. His eyes were dark with desire as he pushed me against a nearby couch, his lips capturing mine in a fierce kiss. Paul stood beside us, his eyes burning with lust as he watched his friend take what he wanted from my willing body.

Oscar broke the kiss, his breath hot on my face as he said, "Get on your knees, baby. I want your mouth."

I obeyed without hesitation, my heart pounding with anticipation. I knew Oscar loved deepthroating, and the thought of taking him all the way down my throat made my pussy drip. I looked up at him with hooded eyes, my lips parted, as I reached for the belt of his pants.

Oscar undid his belt, freeing his hard length. my eyes widened at the sight of his thick, veined cock, the head already glistening with pre-cum. I licked my lips, leaning forward to flick my tongue over the sensitive tip. "Mmm," I moaned, tasting the salty sweetness of him. "I've been waiting all night for this."

I took him into my mouth, sucking slowly, bobbing my head up and down as my hands stroked his length. Oscar's hands tangled in my hair, guiding my pace as he moaned above me. "That's it, baby, just like that. Take it all."

my lips slid down his shaft, my tongue swirling as I hollowed my cheeks, taking him deeper with each stroke. I could feel his cock hit the back of my throat, and I relaxed, allowing him to slide down my throat. Oscar groaned, his hips bucking as he held me still, his cock buried deep. "Fuck, yes, that's it, take it all," he panted.

Pulling back, I sucked hard, hollowing my cheeks as I swirled my tongue. Oscar's hands tightened in my hair, guiding me in a fast, hard rhythm as he used my mouth for his pleasure. "You love that cock, don't you, baby?" he growled. "You're such a dirty little cock slut."

"Mmm-hmm," I hummed around his shaft, my eyes flashing with desire. "I love it, Oscar. I love sucking your big cock."

Paul stood beside them, stroking his hardening cock as he watched the erotic display. "Damn, that's fucking hot," he muttered. "Seeing her mouth wrapped around your cock is making me hard again, Oscar."

A wicked smile curved Oscar's lips as he pulled me off his cock, a strand of saliva connecting our mouths. "I think it's time for that double penetration I've been craving, don't you?"

my pussy clenched at his words, the thought of being filled by both men at once sending a thrill through my body. I nodded eagerly, my eyes shining with anticipation. "Please, yes. Fuck me, both of you. I want it so bad."

Oscar positioned me on my hands and knees on the couch, my ass raised in the air, my pussy exposed and glistening with my juices. "Ride that cock, Paul," he instructed, his eyes sparkling with lust. "I'm gonna stretch her throat while you pound that tight pussy."

Paul lined himself up, sliding into my wet heat with ease. I moaned, my eyes fluttering closed as I felt myself stretched around his thickness once again. Oscar guided my head down onto his cock, holding me still as he thrust his hips, fucking my mouth hard and fast.

The sensation of being filled at both ends pushed me closer to the edge. I felt Paul's hands grip my hips, setting a brutal pace as he slammed into me. Oscar's cock pumped in and out of my mouth, his balls slapping against my chin. "That's it," Oscar grunted. "Take it, you dirty slut. Take both our cocks."

The sounds of their grunts and my muffled moans filled the room. “So dirty for us, such a slut” Oscar grunted. His words sent me over the edge. I cried out around Oscar's cock as my orgasm ripped through me, my body shaking with the force of it. Paul roared his release, his cum shooting deep inside me as he rode out his orgasm.

With a final, hard thrust, Oscar held my head down on his shaft, his hips bucking as he filled my mouth with his hot load. I swallowed, milking him with my mouth as he groaned my name.

Collapsing onto the couch, all three of us panted, a tangle of sweaty, satisfied bodies. I smiled, my body buzzing with satisfaction. This was definitely a night I would never forget.

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mille-fuelle (idk how the fuck to spell it) with a side of vodka shot pls! make it verstappen pls!

the bakery menu!

there is still tons of sweet treats on the menu at the bakery! submit your own order!

mill-feuille (“that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl.”) + vodka shot (rough sex) served to you by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, rough sex, praise kink, (loosely) translated dutch, handcuffs/bondage, (low) doggy style, (slight) dom/sub

the off season was tiring. despite it being the off season. most used it as a chance to catch up on much needed sleep or go on a vacation. some even just laid in bed for the first week of the off-season to just relax.

you and max had different plans.

after the first week of the off season, max had turned of his phone and put it on the dining table, to be left there for a day or two. you did the same, telling your friends and family that you and max were going on a boat trip for a few days.

you didn't want anyone to worry, especially when you knew that you'd be limping by the end of your little escapade. sparse visits over the year have left you both painfully pent up, it felt like over the season the only time you two saw one another was for cute photo-ops, there was very little room for intimacy between your career and his. so the off-season, nothing else mattered except for scratching that itch.

max made sure that you got a meal in you, he wasn't going to neglect your needs because he needed to get his cock wet. he even took the lead and made you breakfast (he really did miss you). While the eggs were perfect, the bacon was a little more crispy than you liked it.

"it's amazing." you giggled as you took another bite. max lingered against you like a shadow, his arm slung around you as he kissed at your neck a little. you turned your head to look at him and he kissed you on the lips.

"i'm excited."

you reached to him and cupped his face, then looked into his blue eyes, "well, hold your horses, i have a surprise for you." and then let go of him so you could quickly finish.

you didn't see max's curious expression at the surprise you had for him. he still followed you while you cleaned up, those large hands on your hips and his lips on your neck. you could feel his clothed erection up against your backside,

"so what's the surprise?" he asked as he held you as you put the plate in the drying rack.

you looked over your shoulder and leaned in to kiss him, then said, "surprise, verstappen." once you were done cleaning up, he followed you into the bedroom.

you apologized to the cats as you closed the door to the room. you could tell that max was getting antsy, why wouldn't he be? he had another stellar season but at the cost of being away from his woman.

"mooi meisje, waarom laat je me wachten?" he asked softly as he sat on the bed you two shared. his cock was pressed against the front of his loose shorts.

you turned away from him and went to your underwear drawer, as you dug around in it you responded, "omdat sommige verrassingen de moeite waard zijn om geheim te houden."

he sighed through his nose, his cock throbbed in his pants. dutch may not be the most sensual language, but he cursed the day that he decided to painstakingly teach you the language. it was almost like second nature to you, and it made his heart beat faster. he leaned back on his hands and watched you pull out a pair of Velcro wrist restraints.

using handcuffs seemed a little cliche, and the idea of losing the key and having to figure out how to get max out of them wasn't something you were interested in. they were softer around the wrists and easier to get out of.

"liefde?" he asked with a bit of concern.

you approached him and placed them in his lap, "if you don't want to try it, then say it. if you want to, tell me." you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

his face felt hot as he said, "i'm guessing you're wearing them?"

you smiled, "next time you can wear them." and could feel your boyfriend's burning gaze as you got out of your sleeping clothes. which was honestly just a ratty red bull t-shirt and slightly too big sleeping shorts. your sports bra and panties were off as well and when you looked at max once more, he had his shirt off and his cock in his hand. his shorts were pushed down and his gaze was heavy.

"you look good." he said, his words heavy on his tongue.

you came of and straddled his waist for a moment, his cock brushed against your pussy but you never sank down on it. you could see his jaw tense.

you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him into a tender kiss. you felt his hands on your hips, he was threatening to pull you right down on his cock. the kiss quickly parted and you got up from his lap and onto the bed. max was close to you once more with teh cuffs in hand.

"i guess we need a safe word."

you were already one step ahead, "red bull."

he got you onto your hands and knees on the bed and slowly got your arms behind your back. it was then secured by the cuffs. max could've lost it in that moment, the site of you was erotic. his naked girlfriend with her arms tied behind her back. he couldn't wait any longer, it was driving him up the wall.

he got his shorts full off and his hand on your hip. it wasn't hard for him to sink his entire length into your aching cunt. he held the chain that connected both of the cuffs to the center of your back, you weren't going anywhere.

you groaned when you felt his cock deep in your cunt, the stretch was amazing. while it left you a little tender for days after, it was the type of ache that stirred your stomach.

the sex was rough, there was little tenderness. and max at least tried to be romantic when he pleasured you, but this carnal need was driving both of you. your heart thumped in your chest, the rush of pleasure made your head throb.

his pace was quick and feral, his grip was tight on you. he wanted to make sure you didn't go slipping away. as if you ever would. he ran his fingers through his hair while he still held you down. he could feel the sweat on his body begin to form as the bedroom became hotter.

the morning light shined through the open window as the two of you fucked with a hot passion. it felt like striking hot iron with the sparks that scattered as a result.

"that’s it, fuck, that’s a good girl." he panted heavily in your ear as he kissed your temple. you moaned in response and he pressed his nose into your hairline for a moment as he had you practically bouncing on his cock.

you whined, "shit, max, ah!" each thrust felt like a short circuit to your brain. his words were filthy, his voice was hot and low. you could feel him rearrange your guts.

the bed creaked against the wall and you felt the air leave your lungs. sometimes it drove you crazy how intensely max's cock made you feel. before sex was just a fun past time with a partner, but with max is made you ache inside and out.

he rutted up into you, his cock gave a small twitch inside of you. he could hear you sweet little pants and moans into the covers. you looked like a fucking dream, his beautiful girl.

"you're so good for me, my love." he groaned, "you feel so fucking tight around me and i don't know what to do with myself. you drive me mad. i want you all the time." he panted heavily, "it was all i could think of during the races, your tight pussy around my cock. i always wondered if i could get you to fit in the car with me, bounce you on the my cock while the engine rumbled. you'd like that, wouldn't you, slet."

you swallowed, while the idea was probably unrealistic, the thought of it was rather erotic. the almost claustrophobia of being so close to him in a tight space.

you didn't have to respond for him to say, 'i know you'd hate it, right? because you're my good right, correct?"

you nodded and moaned a little louder as you felt the thrill of lust climb through your body. you squirmed under the restraints, it was a little bit of tension on your shoulders but it did make you core ache. you panted dumbly against the covers as he fucked you with a heavy heat.

"pretty fucking little thing." he growled as he pushed your top half further into the soft mattress. the angle gave him the best place to cram his heavy cock into your sweet cunt.

you felt the moans fold off your tongue as you felt the pleasure capture you whole and climax crashed down on you. it felt like your earth was shattered when it grabbed hold. you whined, "holy shit, max."

he chuckled and felt the wetness between your legs only grow more, he doubled down his thrusts and left you totally pinned under him. he rutted into you like an animal in heat, even as your pathetic little moans rang in his ear.

"honey, ah. that's a good girl. fuck you're mine." he groaned as he bottomed out into you. his cock nudged against your cervix and spat cum against it. while made your back arch.

"fuck." you panted.

he pulled out and quickly, without much through took off the cuffs. he took you in his arms and laid down beside you, spooning you. his larges hands massaged your wrists. even though they didn't hurt.

he peppered the back of your neck with kisses. so loving, so kind despite how rough he was moments earlier. max worshiped you, praised you like the sun.

"my beautiful girl." he sighed contently.

"the cuffs felt good." you responded, your legs tangled in his.

he kissed under your ear and said quietly in your ear, "maybe next time i need to tie you up fully." he chuckled a little as he held you in his arms.

it was good to be home. <3

million dollar man ☆ toto wolff

genre: age gap, porn with plot, angst, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature, mentions of homicide, bits of humor, child neglection, divorced!toto

word count: 16.5k

Toto Wolff, self-made billionaire, is on cloud nine; he has all he’s ever wanted. A beautiful wife, family, a great team. But when that starts slipping from his fingers, he desperately tries to keep hold of what is not his anymore. As a possible solution to cure his blues, Lewis kindly invites him to a place he runs off to when times get tough; to relieve some stress. But he just never expected a cosplaying angel, dancing around a metal pole, to be his salvation. And also, his cruelest life lesson. 

nsfw warning under the cut! 

18+…dry humping/ thigh riding, sexual tension, penetrative sex, oral sex (m!receiving f!receiving), size kink, breeding kink, praise, foreplay, riding

inspired by this and this !

STOP AND READ:

Typically, we keep it light here: occasional minor angst fics, but light, nonetheless. That will not be the case this time around. Because of that, I firmly believe that it is necessary to give a few warnings. There will be mentions of drug-use and homicide and if that is not something you are comfortable with then that is totally okay! I have more options for you to read over at my masterlist! This is purely fictional. With that, this story is based and inspired by Million Dollar Man and Yayo by Lana Del Rey (*run*)—what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. 

cherry here!…toto is like—a special appearance, here in this blog. probably won’t write for him all the time, but hey! we love him!originally this was going to be named yayo but have since changed my mind to million dollar man. IT WILL MAKE SENSE AND I’M SORRY, ANONS. please don’t hate the villain in me. consider yourself warned. 

There was no room for love when it came to the world of motorsport. Toto’s first marriage was a transparent reminder, given its falling out. The Austrian didn’t seem to care, almost; Mercedes was at their prime, but by then, when Susie came along, he felt a gist of hope. She must’ve known the sacrifices that would be made—the expectations. 

And yet, he sat there, signing the divorce papers once again. What had he done wrong this time? He had given her everything she could have ever wanted—spent time he didn’t even have—with her. 

Neither of us were happy anymore, she would whisper apologetically, eyes trained downwards. But I’ll always love you, Toto. You must remember that. 

Suddenly, he was fifty-two and with no true purpose in life other than to stabilize his broken team. If it wasn’t false accusations from other team principals, then it was trouble with the hydraulics, and if it wasn’t that, then it was losing his World Champion. Mercedes was already dwindling down to a mess, but with Lewis leaving—it felt like he was losing his mind. 

“You understand where I’m coming from, right, Toto?” 

Looking up at Lewis and Penni, his manager, the Austrian sighs, forcing a tired smile. No. He didn’t understand—did not want to understand. But he had no right to prevent the Brit from expanding one final time before retirement. I just feel like I need to do this for myself, but thank you for the infinite support. Mercedes will always be home to me. 

Promises. Fuck them, they meant nothing at the end of the day, so why bother? 

“Do what you need to do. I’ll always be here for you; no matter what.”

It was a bittersweet feeling to have. On one hand, the brunette felt optimistic. Maybe this was a chance to start over, perhaps offer up the golden seat to Carlos or Kimi. They had proven themselves in their own way and maybe that could bring better opportunities towards the team.

On the other, he felt like this was it. Maybe it was time to move on, retire with a sorrowful smile and live out the rest of his years. He could try fixing things with Susie. The thing was, he just re-signed as team principal, so none of that would work out even if he wanted to. 

Running a large hand through his brown hair, he groans and takes a sip of whiskey. Wincing at the taste, he jumps up in alert from his seat when there’s a knock on the glass door. May I? He nods.

Entering with an easy smile, Lewis raises his dark brows in a teasing manner. “Drinking ain’t gonna help, I promise you that.”

The brown eyed man grins. “You have something else in mind, cause if so, I’d like to hear it.”

The Brit hums, tilts his head to the side. Lewis had been with Toto for as long as he can remember; he was there when Toto and Susie met, and long after when they tied the knot. He swore they were happy, and that may have been once true, but he also knows sometimes even that can’t be enough. So, when news came out to their inner circle that the two were getting divorced, he felt sorry for him. He knows what it feels like to have it all, to suddenly go to sleep alone every night. But there was always one place that always helped— even people like him.

“You up for Vegas?”

-

He should have said no. He was too old for any of this nonsense. Too mature. Only, one thing led to another, and before he knew it, he was entering one of the top-tier stripclubs in all of Las Vegas. He knows that while there is nothing wrong with the profession, he can’t help but feel sinisterly dirty. He blames it on the fact that Lewis was beaming right besides him. Maybe if he hadn’t once been his boss, then the feeling would be different.

“Oh, c’mon. Ease up. No one will even know that you were in here.”

It’s true. While the club was a part of the infamous Vegas strip, it was also exclusively exclusive. No one could get in if there was no form of proving to be millionaires, and even that was ridiculously low. NDA’s would be signed as if it were something normal. Made him wonder what kind of things occurred between these four walls. 

Toto chuckles deeply, dark eyes roaming the entire room, loud music blaring. “How did you even know this place exists?”

Lewis winks, lousy arm waving at the bouncers. “You know how everyone thinks Formula One drivers are players and are up to no good?”

“Yeah?”

He smirks. “Well…they’re fucking right.”

After a couple of drinks, a few new friends—who would make great potential business partners—and a bit of gambling, the fifty-two year old found himself having a decent time. The atmosphere was a tad bit suffocating, but one time won’t kill him. He deserved it. 

“Oh, oh, you might want to take a seat,” Lewis chants excitedly. “People get pissed if you block their view.”

Abruptly, the stage lights up. It was a bit alarming, the sudden speed these men took to claim their seats, trampling over each other to get front row. Carefully, he crouches down onto the couch of giddy men. This wasn’t a normal setting; girls were caged behind glass as if to protect them from these males and their slithering actions. A red head professionally swings around the steel pole, black skirt flowing, adding to the illusion men love to taste. 

Whoops and hollers echo the red room as the Brit nudges Toto’s broad shoulder with a wicked grin. “Good, no? She’s my favorite.”

The Austrian scrunches his nose, half joking, half not. “Is this why you were always dozing off during our meetings?”

“Exactly why.”

It was an impressive art, he’ll give credit where credits due, and his eyes were bulging out of his head, but that’s about it. When he stood up to go and order a new drink, a string of boos were thrown at him. Even Lewis shook his head with disapproval. Man, you’re missing the show! He sends a sly grin. “I’m tough to win over, but they’re great, don’t get me wrong.”

The bartender shakes his head in disbelief. “That’s what they all say. Until they lay eyes… on her.”

“On who?” He’s quickly hushed as soon as the room changes gears. The once red club enhances into a soft yellow glow, the fast paced music slows down to an angelic piano intro. 

A round of applause for everyone’s favorite girl—Peaches!

If the fifty-two year old ever thought he’s heard it all; loud cheers from fans, loud cheers for the other dancers; then he must have been mistaken, and awfully foolish. His ears ring with the sudden howls from everyone in the room. Turning around, he’s found with a girl, standing with golden angel wings. A shiny reflection colors her hair as she delicately bows, shy smile sewn onto her pouty lips. White dress wrapped around her figure as if it was tailored for her, and only her. 

Yayo.

The way she pranced inside the glass box like a butterfly makes the men grow wild as they pant feverishly. She’s barely doing anything—hasn't even done half as much as what the other girls had done—and somehow, all eyes are drawn on her like a sticky potion. Toto’s heartbeat gets stuck in his throat as he tries his best to swallow it down. Sad eyes flicker throughout the club as she spins, dress fluttering like a flower in the summer breeze. 

You’re someone desirable in all senses, and it appears as if you know it as well. 

Let me put on a show for you, daddy. 

Dropping down to your knees, you crawl towards the glass as you draw your soft brows together, as if pleading to be let out. Hot breath paints the glass before you press a kiss. 

Then, you’re looking at him, and it’s as if you could point out all the fucked up shit he’s ever done. His heart speeds up as you tie your shiny legs along the pole, sensually spinning as you throw your head back. Like a signal, water sprinkles inside the box as it lubricates you down, dark mascara trickling your features. 

Arms toss your hair back before sharing a quick wave as you step out, red lights turning back on. And just like that, Toto is left empty and alone once again.

“That shit was insane,” the Brits voice shakes him away from your spell as he flops down on the stool right next to him. “She must be new because I for sure wouldn’t have forgotten a pretty face like hers. What’d you think?”

Toto blinks. “She might be my favorite.”

-

Thank you, Ro, you say as you sign on the bottom x, waving him off as he tilts his head in agreement. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be outside, like always. 

Even after all this time, you still got trepidatious. There came times where the connection was completely off, that you just wanted to bolt away, screaming like a baby. But you needed this job to survive, plus, it paid a pretty penny. 

“Where do you want me?”

Once you spot the massive businessman, manspreading on the couch that he made out to look like a toy, you gulp. You had caught a glimpse of him already, basically performed for him, but you didn’t think he was the one who called for you.

He’s strikingly handsome in a way you couldn’t quite comprehend. Dark, untamed hair covers his face. Long nose catches your attention as you squirm. His hands are practically the size of your face and you could only imagine what his thick fingers must feel like. Curiously, your eyes dwindle down to his lap as you picture what rests between his legs.

“Oh, right. Um…”

You grin. “First time?”

He winces. “It was a friend's idea.”

“Hmph. Heard that one before.” Inching closer, you pour a glass of water. “Here. It’ll help.”

His hand swallows you whole as you gape down at the difference. Electricity zaps you as you flinch and he catches on. Bringing the cup towards his pink lips, he closes his eyes, lashes fanning his tan skin. Being taken care of by a beautiful, young lady, made him cringe in all kinds of ways. He felt like a child, then like an old man. To be fair, he sort of was.

“I’m not here for…you know.” You quirk a neat brow. You don’t want to fuck me? Your question has him choking on the ice as he raises his hand up. “N-no, I just th—”

“I’m afraid you’re just wasting my time, and time is money. Have a good day, Mr. Wolff.”

Gaining his composure, Toto storms over to you, grabbing your hand. “I’ll still pay you. Triple what you make, but please don’t go.”

Your cheeks are dusted light pink when you turn around, wings brushing against him. If you’re lucky, you reach his toned chest, but the height difference was scary. Enticing. You almost wish he would fuck you like a pornstar. 

“You know what a girl wants to hear. I’m in.”

Turns out, he just wanted a companion. Someone who wouldn’t pity him. Didn’t hurt that you were the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, either. Narrowing your eyes, you click your tongue. “She said that?”

He sighs. “Maybe I was changing.”

“Perhaps, but that’s what a marriage is for. You change, sure, but you change together. Things can’t possibly stay that same, that’s just stupid.” Tucking your legs beneath your butt, you continue. “And what? Your number one driver decides to leave out of the blue? Even after it was mutually decided that he would stick around at least until 2026?”

That was something no one knew, but who were you going to tell? Toto grimaces. “It sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“It fucking sucks.”

The Austrian chuckles deeply at your outburst. You blush at the cunning sound. “You’re a terrific listener. I’m glad you stuck around to talk.”

“I’m glad I did, too.” You play with the hem of your dress. “You’re a kind man, Toto. You didn’t deserve any of this.”

-

He slips away that night with a tranquility he hasn’t felt in quite a while. On the way back to Monaco, he wonders if you were some kind of guardian that he had to meet in order to move on from his bittersweet feelings. Because it sure did feel like it since he felt he now knew what it is that he had to do in the upcoming season. All thanks to you. 

“…Toto….Hello?” Bono smacks his hand against the table and the Austrian flinches. They were in the talks of what position he would stay in now that Lewis was departing from his life-long engineer. “Do you want me to continue or?”

The brunette clears his throat, awkwardly. “We have a few weeks of break before the new season begins, correct?”

“Correct.”

He stands up to his full height. “Then let’s talk later. Enjoy your break, Bono. See you soon.” Then he’s walking out the sliding doors, with a dumbfounded engineer piercing his eyes at his large back.

Elizabeth, Toto’s rough voice speaks to his personal assistant. Clear my schedule for the next few weeks. Oh, and also; get me the first flight out to Las Vegas. 

-

Cursing at the dusty wind, you huddle your way into your beat up car, fingers sliding your Dior glasses down the bridge of your nose. They were a gift from a recent client, and you never shamed them away. Taking a sip of your sparkling water, you sigh in relief at the refreshing taste. Screw Nevada for being annoyingly hot. 

Tap tap. 

Squinting your eyes at your window, you only catch a glimpse of a man’s clothed crotch as you yelp. Swinging the door open, you take out your pepper spray. “Go away creep, I will use this if necessary!”

"Warten! Warten!"

“Huh?”

“I said wait,” a thick accent clarifies. You bite back a smile. “Hello.”

Bringing your hands up to your hips, you giggle. “Hello, Mr. Wolff. Back for more?”

He can try and pretend that he was better than crawling back to you, even if all you both did was have a meaningful conversation, but he doesn’t have time for lies. 

“I just wanted to thank you.” Your lips separate, slowly. “For everything. You helped me figure out lots of things.”

“Oh, wow… I, umm… You’re welcome?”

Intaking your soft aura, he closes his right eye due to the bright sun. “Can I take you out for coffee?”

-

You didn’t go out for coffee at a local cafe, but rather at his mansion he just blew his money on without batting an eye. Inhaling the yummy scent, you swoon. “This smells amazing.” 

He smiles. “It’s from Germany.”

“Authentic. How’d you get it?”

“Don’t underestimate power.” Your eyes grow wide at his cold tone and the Austrian laughs. “Relax. I’m from Germany. It’s my favorite, so I always carry one with me. Call me old-fashioned.”

“Let’s just leave it at old.”

He flashes a devious grin, lines tracing his face. “Ha-ha. But seriously, thank you for helping me out of my little…crisis.” Midlife crisis, you correct him as he glares. You snicker. 

“I’m glad I was able to help.”

“Can I ask you something?” Sure, you cheer as you sip on the hot drink. He fixes his glasses. “How did you end up working at Machiavellian Nights?” Your stomach drops. “You don’t have to answer.”

“No.” He nods. “I’ll tell you, because oddly enough, I trust you.” Okay, he whispers. “Are you close to your parents?” 

“What?” Are you? He nods again. You smile sadly. 

“That’s lovely, Toto. Appreciate that.” You release a shaky breath. “My father passed away when I was fifteen and my mother pretends to not know me.”

He gulps and you continue. “It was not always like that, though. We had a close relationship. She would braid my hair every night before bed. I would curl hers before every date. She was an amazing woman. One I could admire.”

“What happened?”

You lower your head, lips wobbling. Letting out a wet laugh, you brush a hand up against your nose. “Men are deceiving. Men are shit. Men are a complete waste of time and— I miss who my mom used to be.”

Handing you a napkin, you silently thank him. “She met him when I was only seventeen. It was fine at first; I was so happy for her. I would be moving out for college eventually, so I felt relieved that she had someone to rely on. Connor was great.”

The fifty-two year old is momentarily lost. Nothing sounds as bad as it seems, but he refrains from telling you so. “Then she got pregnant. Oh, Toto, I was so excited. A baby sister. Could you imagine? I bought everything my first job could afford. Onesies, blankies, pampers, I bought it all. And I never once expected anything in return.”

“That’s where things began to change. Connor swore I was trying to win my mom over and leave Rosie with nothing. Kicked me out before I even had a chance to defend myself. I thought —okay, I’ll just talk to her and explain that it was never my intention to do any of that. But she wouldn’t listen. She gave birth six months ago.”

“And you ended up...” You hum, bringing the mug up to your lips. 

“It was either that or fast food. Salary is shit in that industry. And the customers aren’t bad. I could say yes or no at any given time.”

The brunette fiddled with his watch. “So, you could have turned me away?” Laughing, you nod. He fakes a smug look. “And why didn’t you?”

Tapping a lazy finger onto your chin, you close your eyes before fluttering them open. “I had a feeling you had shit locked away. Just like me.”

-

He bids you farewell, claiming he was glad to have met you, even with such circumstances. The way he hugs you goodbye makes the pit of your stomach fuel with fire as you brush away the urge to climb onto him and kiss his pain away, even if he promises to not feel any. 

Take care of yourself, you beg, head resting beneath his heart. His breath hitches. You need to look after yourself, above all. Oh. And good luck with the new season. 

He wonders why such a pretty plea makes his heart break. Perhaps it was because even though your life was at rock bottom, you still looked out for others. Or maybe it was him, but he couldn’t pinpoint it at all. He wouldn’t try either because as stated before, he was leaving for good. He could make room to visit you the next time he was here for the Las Vegas GP. Even then, he wouldn’t risk you like that.

But like a kid at a candy shop, he finds himself signing the NDA once again. Welcome back, Mr. Wolff. The usual? “That sounds great, thank you.” Taking a seat, he watches the vivid room, hoping to spot you. Set after set, he’s torn when you don’t show up. Others seem to notice you missing as they violently spit slurs of; Bring out the pretty one! 

“Would you be kind enough to treat me to a sweet drink? Paloma’s are my favorite.”

Your sultry voice salutes him like a perfect hug as he looks down to where you bite down onto the inside of your cheek. Your eyes crinkle as you beam up at him. “You’re here…”

“I always am.”

He cringes, desperation humbling him as you take a seat. “Your act…you didn’t go on and I just thought you were out sick or something?” Leaning over to take a sip of his dark drink, loopy eyes train on him before sighing.

“Ugh, I wish. I’m on my period. I asked for the night off, but I’m still up to no good. Make a little bit of money, eh.” He clenches his jaw. “What are you doing here anyways, Toto? Oh shit—Mr. Wolff.” Smiling warmly at the bartender, you hug your red lips around the glass.

“I wanted to see you.”

Choking on the fruity drink, you clutch onto his thigh. He stiffens, but still pats your exposed back. You wore a silky red dress, just like the rest of the girls strutting through the busy club, but somehow, it looked better on you. Enhancing your soft features, tugging against your curves like an envelope. Perky tits begging to be licked— sucked on. 

“Why?”

“I…I don’t know.” You frown. “I have no idea, but you’ve lingered on my mind from the moment I saw you, dancing sadly. Why was that?” 

You purse your lips. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He huffs. “Think a little bit harder, then.” His firm tone makes you sit up straight, drawing circles on his lap, as a tactic to not pull your strong gaze away. You don’t even notice his hard cock pushing up against the denim. 

“I had just received a restraining order against Rosie.” He deflates. “I’ve never even met my newborn sister and they got a fucking restraining order.” You scoff. “Unbelievable.”

Toto was lucky enough to be a part of his kids' lives, but simply picturing the idea of Stephanie or Susie getting a restraining order against him, crushed him. Seeing you so upset about it makes him want to track down your mother and Connor and yell at them for how they’ve treated you. But then he would probably find himself with a similar piece of paper.

“Just when I think they’ve done it all, there always seems to be more.” You laugh, taking another sip of your cold drink. “They’re getting clever.”

“How are you so okay with any of this?”

You narrow your eyes, offended by his question. “You think I am? Toto, I feel like the odd one out. My own mother makes me feel like a culprit for simply wanting to give my baby sister a pair of shoes.” The brunette furrows his brows. You giggle. “I got Rosie a pair of ballet shoes. They’re the cutest thing you’ll ever see.” 

His lips quirk upwards. “So, you’ve tried to meet her?” You shake your head, hair whiplashing. I called my mom, brought up the idea. I guess she didn’t like it because next thing I knew, hello, restraining order. It’s sick. “They don’t deserve you.”

Your mouth stays agape as you blink back at him, doe eyes ringing him in. “I’m done trying. I get tired too, y’know?” Edging closer to your seat, you cup your hands against his ear, getting a whiff of his musky, expensive scent. You almost let out a moan. “You have kids, right? Were they cute when they were babies?” 

He nods, enthusiastically. “They’re heaven sent.” Your eyes twinkle, and he feels bad for a split second. “Want to see?” He dangles his phone towards you as you beam. Do you mind? “Not at all. As a father, you must know, I like to brag about them.” Rolling your eyes, you swipe through his gallery as you coo.

“Oh my goodness! She looks just like you,” you point out when you spot a blond girl. He grins. That’s Rosa. Flickering your eyes up to him, you gasp. “Rosie.” 

“Huh? Similar…that’s funny.”

Your grin widens. “Oh, handsome. Just like his father.” Benedict, he informs you as he blushes at the comment. Swiping once more, you tilt your head. “Very cute—like insanely adorable—but he doesn’t resemble you at all.” He laughs, throwing his head back.

“That’s my youngest, Jack. He looks just like his mother.” He retrieves the phone from you before handing it back. Squinting, you analyze the older blond. “Identical. It’s almost as if you didn’t partake in the game, Mr. Wolff.”

“Oh, trust me, I did.”

Burning up, you rip your gaze away from the device, trying to erase your filthy thoughts. Especially of him and his ex-wife. “She seems nice. Beautiful, too.” He hums, slipping his phone back into his pocket. 

“I can tell you have a soft spot for kids.”

“I don’t want to scare you off, but it’s an obsession. I can’t wait to be a mommy.” He swallows a groan at your innocent wish. “I would try to be the best; I just know I would.” 

The Austrian rubs his arm. “It’s getting late. Are you still going to be around?” 

You yawn. “I think I’m out of here, too.” 

“Can I take you home?”

The sexual tension is as thick as thieves. It suffocates you whole as you stare out the window of his Mercedes Benz. His digits taps against the leather wheel, legs barely fitting from how massive he is. Head almost touching the roof of his car. I swear I’ll go back to school, God, but please help me keep the last bits of my dignity. 

“How tall are you?” Come again? You gulp. “What’s your height? Curious, that’s all.”

His head rolls back, Adam’s Apple jumping up and down. “Meters or in feet?” You bite down on your tongue. Smart-ass. 

“Feet, if it’s okay with you,” you reply sarcastically. He clicks his tongue in amusement.

“6’5.” 

“Oh my God.” You smile sheepishly when he frowns. “You’re huge.”

“They normally say that after I have sex with them, but thank you.”

Heat rushes to your cheekbones and the tip of your ears. “You know what I meant.”

“Oh, of course, my mistake.” Pulling into your small driveway, he blinks slowly. “You live here?”

“Yes, don’t drool over it, please,” you growl at his rude tone. His brown eyes spin towards you when you hurriedly grab your things. He grabs the back of your dress quickly and you freeze.

“I didn’t mean it like that, it’s lovely, but I just thought…you said you made good money?”

High heels crunch against small pebbles as you scowl at the fifty-two year old. “I want to go back to Uni and I’m saving up, is that so wrong?” He’s embarrassed now, fixated on the empty passenger seat. You scoff. “Glad we agree. Good night, dickhead.”

Toto lets out a quiet laugh. Your eye twitches at the sound. Marching over to his window, you click your fingers as he rolls it down. This is funny to you? “Not at all. You acting like a child is.” 

“I am not acting like a child—”

“Oh, you’re not? Fuck. Again, my mistake.” Grinding your molars, you glare at the brunette. He aims for a soft smile. “I wasn’t making fun of your living arrangements, please, do you really think that low of me?” You look away, wiggling your neat brows. “Come and live with me.”

“Excuse me?”

He climbs out of the car, making you stumble back. “In the meantime, while I’m here, which is not for long. When I leave, you can keep the house.”

You grow light headed from his delirious offer. “Are you asking me to have sex with you in return for a new home?” His jaw drops.

“No, I’m being a good friend. You’re a sweet girl who has dealt with some shitty people and I want to help. Please, accept.” His voice is soft but somehow demanding. As if he already knows you’re going to agree. 

Inching closer, you poke his chest. He raises his arms. “Are you real?” Super real, he states, rolling his chocolate eyes. What do you say? 

“But my things—”

“I’ll send for them.”

“My downpayment—”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Cool!” you cheer. “Let me just go grab my boyfriend.” His smile falls. Letting out an evil laugh, you clutch onto your stomach. “Ha! You should have seen your face.”

He pinches your forearm and you yelp in surprise. “Don’t make me regret this.”

“Too late,” you yodel as you skip around, back into the black Mercedes. “You’re going to regret it anyways.”

-

We still have to talk about the preparations required for the unveiling of the W15. Please tell me you haven’t forgotten? 

Massaging his temples, Toto grimaces. “I haven't, but also, we don’t have to. It’s all ready to go; George and Lewis just need to show up.”

Elizabeth gasps. “And you.”

“Elizabeth, that was implied.” The assistant hums sheepishly as she continues talking his ear off. He groans. “I’ll be there, don’t worry. You’re doing a great job, keep it up. And please, enjoy your break. You’re going to wish you had when the season starts.”

“Of course. Take care, Toto.”

Once they hang up, he picks up on reading through articles about everything and anything people have been saying about Lewis’ new contract with Ferrari. He was happy for his driver, but it still stung. 

“You look tired.”

Chocolate eyes direct over to you where you stand with an oversized t-shirt and a pair of panties. At least he hopes. “Oh, y’know. Catching up on work. Can’t be gone for too long, if not things get out of control.”

Rolling your eyes sarcastically, you slide your way closer to him. “Can I see?”

“See what?”

Squinting at the screen, your eyes glimmer brightly. “I love all things gossip. It’s my guilty pleasure.” Taking a seat on his thick lap, your delicate fingers start playing with the keypad. He grunts, placing both hands behind his head as his jaw ticks. “Charles Leclerc and Lewis Hamilton: The Unstoppable Duo.” You giggle. “He’s cute. Take it back, they both are.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “You’re evil.” 

Tossing your hair over your shoulder, you shrug. It looks so soft, he’s itching to run his fingers through it. “I see why you’re upset about this whole—‘I want Lewis! No, I want Lewis!—thing.” His smile falters. “It’s brutal.”

Hauling you off of his lap, he places you on the chair next to him, hoping you wouldn’t notice his hard print. “Is it?”

“Mhmm,” you chirp, chin propped onto your knees. “You must not mind people talking about you.”

“I do mind. I mind a lot.”

Perplexed, you take in his exhausted state. You never wanted to be famous, and seeing him live like this made you realize you had made the right choice. With slight hesitance, you brush his hair back; he sighs in relief. “It’s good to take breaks in between. That way you don’t have a stroke, old man.” His eyes fly open.

“Just because you’re younger, that doesn't mean I’m about to drop dead, sweetheart.” You squirm, forcing his orbs back closed as he squirms at the clumsy action. 

“Wanna feel something nice?”

Toto’s mind wanders to a steamy place once you leap off your chair. His chest heaves up and down from nervousness, hearing your soft steps. Straddling him, you press a soft kiss onto his cheek. Relax, Toto. He nods, grips onto the sides of the wooden chair, knuckles turning ghost white. Digging your hands into his broad shoulder, you begin to massage him at a steady pace. He moans. “How are you so good at this?” Your lips curl.

“I like to think I was a masseuse in my past life, now shhh.” 

The brunette’s main focus was between two things; actually letting loose and enjoying the much needed massage and the urge to slide your panties to the side and fuck you senselessly. Both were pretty good ideas in his book.

“Stop grunting,” you whisper in the nook of his ear as he shudders. You bite down on your pouty lip, leaning all the way back, and his hands instinctively reach out to catch you. His brown eyes flutter open as he admires the way you tower over him, even as you lay back, but also the way your fingers push adamantly against the knots in his shoulders. He growls animalistically. “What did I say, Mr. Wolff?”

Cold stare. “What am I supposed to do, then?”

Grabbing his large hands, you place them over your hips, an inviting smile dancing across your pink lips. Squeeze if you have to. He almost comes inside his pants as you lick your lips once more before continuing your actions. And it almost seems like you want to get a rise out of him. To make him groan, moan, grunt, cry out— for you. 

Purposefully, you dig your knuckles extra hard before pinching down with your nails. He hisses, grasping your sides hard as he throws his head back, floppy hair hitting the chair. You force a whimper away as you feverishly grind against his crotch. That kind of hurt, Toto.

“Fuck…I’m sorry,” he spills out as he starts a massage of his own. You smirk, repeating the same painful actions, pushing him to do the same as before. This was no longer a peaceful massage, you both knew that. It really hurts, you whine as you place a small hand against his chest, hips moving feverishly against his rough pants. The burning sensation makes you let out a pathetic wail as you rest your head against his shoulder. “A-are you okay?”

Then, you press your forehead against his; lustful gaze challenging him while tears cover up your pretty eyes, making them shimmer even more than before. “Never been better.” With one last rub against his slacks, you’re climaxing as you plow your red nails onto him.

Gasping for air, you return to tracing soft circles against his wide shoulders as he’s left dazed and confused. His cock still hurts from how hard he is, but you don’t seem to notice. Or you ignore it. It doesn't matter, because you’re already jumping off him, lips bruised from how hard you had bit down.

“I thought your hands would hurt a lot less, Toto. You ought to be nice to me.” 

Then, you’re skipping away, back into your room like a shy rabbit.

-

After the encounter in the dining room, you pranced around as if nothing had happened. Maybe nothing had. Toto’s mind was probably playing tricks on him because there was no way you could act so nonchalant, hallowing your lips around the cherry popsicle. Is it red? You stick your salivating tongue towards him.

“That’s a dumb question.”

You frown. “Grump.” A beat. “Can I take the Mercedes on a spin?”

“No.”

The frown grows deeper. “Why not? I swear I won’t scratch it. In fact, I won’t let anything happen.”

“Tempting, but still no.”

“Fine,” you grumble, munching down on the icy treat. He smiles, fingers typing against his computer. Can I ride you? His digits freeze midair as he flickers his brown eyes over at you. Holding the car keys directly to your face, you hum playfully. Yeah. Why not, Peaches? Just take care of me! “Of course, my sweet Benz. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“You are worse than my four year old.” He inhales sharply, rolling up his sleeves as he tries to ease his crazy heartbeat with water. You giggle.

“He said yes.”

“The car talks now?”

You blush. “That’s what I’m sayinggg…”

Analyzing the strand of hair that hits your chin, he folds his hands. “How did you choose Peaches as your stage name?”

You swallow the last piece of your popsicle. “It’s not an interesting story. I have a co-worker who goes by Foxy because she once fucked a fucking grandpa in the woods and he died of a heart attack once he saw a fox. Pretty cool, huh?”

His jaw drops. “You’re crazy.” Shrugging, you kick your legs up on the armrest. He swallows. “But I still want to know. No matter how boring it may seem. I can guarantee you I won’t think the same, pessimist.” 

Gingerly squinting your round eyes, your lips for a thin line. “When I was younger, my mom would bring me a peach everyday after work. That way, when she would pick me up from school, she would have it ready. The sweetest ones were during summer, of course, but the ones out of season were still pretty good. Up to this day, I still don’t know how she got her hands on those.” He nods. “Simple as that.”

“I think it’s sweet.” His long legs stretch out to kick your chair away. You squeal. “Makes you seem a tiny bit human.”

“Hey!”

He smirks. “Way better than Foxy. That story is just a murder case waiting to be taken to trial.”

“She did receive a handsome inheritance,” you whistle and his eyes grow wide. You snicker. “I’m kidding.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he lets out a heavy sigh. “Do you enjoy your job? Is this what you want to do for the rest of your life?” You shake your head.

“Wait, let me rephrase. I do enjoy pole dancing. So many outsiders assume we’re sluts, but it’s not like that. It’s an art, whether you believe it or not.” I agree. You grin. “I have fun, but no, I don’t want to do this forever. I want to be an elementary school teacher.”

“Really?”

You wince. “Seems inappropriate, I know, but I think I could be really good at it. I would cut them slices of sweet peaches any chance I get. I’ll even figure out where to buy some more once the season ends.” Scooting closer to the table, you flick your wooden stick onto his lap. He aims for a deadpan expression. “And I just want to make it clear that I do not sleep around. But when I do, it’s because I want to. I have needs too, Toto.”

The fifty-two year old grinds his teeth together. “I’m sure you do.”

-

Wobbling against the shiny tiles, you gasp before a warm hand saves you. You let out a breath of relief, turning to see Toto shaking his head in disapproval. 

“This is why you should leave to work on time. Now you’re just a mess.” Glaring at him, you fix your rollers as you walk out onto the private driveway. You were excluded from the rest of society, but part of you liked that. “How are you even going to get there?”

Spinning around, you almost crash into his chest before you regain your composure, close proximity making you struggle to find the words. “Toto, I never told you this, but…I can fly.”

“I’m being serious.”

You shrug. “I’m going to take the bus. Go back to your precious emails.” As soon as you twiddle your finger, he scoffs. 

“I would take you—”

“But you’re busy— it’s fine.”

“Can you stop talking?” Beady eyes narrow up at him as he continues. “But I can’t because I’m drowning with work…You can take the Mercedes.” Your eyes light up. 

“Are you fucking with me?”

He wishes he was fucking you, but no. “You better treat it like your own.” You click your tongue. See, you shouldn’t have said that because now my alter ego just grew. He points accusingly and you scrunch your nose. I promise. Handing you his keys, he watches carefully as you pull away, blowing him a kiss. 

A few hours pass by before he feels the need to check up on you. He tries texting first. Busy night? Nothing. He tries calling. Nothing. He starts thinking you might've crashed on your way there, so he hurries out the door. 

Paying the taxi driver, he marches past the doors as he is handed a piece of paper. He smiles back politely. “Don’t you guys think we’re past this?” The men take a quick glance at each other before nodding. Have a lovely night, Mr. Wolff. 

Loud music makes the brunette wince, face twisting uncomfortably. Brown eyes study the club as he tries to decipher where you could possibly be. Maybe you didn’t make it and he was right after all. Jogging over to the bartender, Toto pants. “Peaches? Have you seen her?” 

The young man points to the glass box, where you start your set. He sighs in relief as he takes a seat, rolling up his sleeves as he admires. Everyone cheers as you smile erotically. The Austrian can’t help but be one of them too. 

Spotting him, you freeze. You narrow your eyes for a split second before you snap out of it, continuing your desirable movements. The music ends and just like that, you’re done. Hollering echoes the room when you brush past by. 

“What are you doing here?” 

A cheesy grin plays out. “I came to see you.” Weren’t you busy with work? He shakes his head. “Well, yes actually, but I thought you were dead in a ditch when you didn’t reply to my message or answer any of my calls.”

“Why could that be? Oh. Maybe because I’m working,” you hiss. “Listen, if you’re here as a client— fine. But if you’re here as Toto— leave.”

He narrows his eyes sharply and your breath hitches. “It’s Mr. Wolff, darling.”

You purse your lips. “Very well, Mr. Wolff.” Strutting away, you make sure you sway your hips. The brunette groans, falling back against his chair. 

The night flies by as usual, until they book you. “Mr. Straforx, sitting in the back booth,” Ro informs you as you suck on your bottom lip, listening attentively. “Interested?” 

“Very.”

“Actually, I am too.”

The rich accent makes your stomach flip as you muster up a stern glare. Toto’s lips form a firm line as he stands as tall as a sequoia. Fuming, you shake your head, perfectly done hair slapping your face. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Wolff, but I already agreed to somebody else. But rest assured, if I have time left, then I will get to you.”

“Is money the issue here?”

Your jaw ticks, temples grinding together harshly. “You think that’s all I care about?”

He shrugs. “I could lie and say no, but who am I kidding? We all care about money.”

Flustered, you scoot closer to Ro, who stands amused with the entire interaction. “Ro, tell Mr. Straforx that I’ll be there in a minute, and make sure to apologize on my behalf.” The older man nods, tipping his head towards the Austrian as he strolls away. “What are you trying to do, Toto?”

His lips flip to a teasing smile. “Mr. Wolff.”

“Oh, don’t you dare pull that card on me.” Your face pinches up. “This is an important client, I can’t say no.”

“How much do you want in order for you to come with me instead of him?” Your berry lips separate. “Name a price. I’m a self-made billionaire, sweetheart—a couple of millions are nothing to me.”

“I could never ask for you to do that,” you whisper, timidly fiddling with your necklace. “Deal with it. You’re not my boyfriend.”

His nose flares at the cruel reminder. “I never claimed to be. I’m a client.” Pause. “Two million.”

You gasp. “Are you insane?”

“You’re right, that’s childsplay. How about five?” When you still don’t say anything, he grins devilishly as he places a large hand on the lower part of your back. “Ro! Yeah, tell Me. Straforx that she’s coming with me. I’ll give you a bonus, don’t worry.” Your friend nodded happily. Press the button if you need anything. 

You roll your eyes, sourly. “Thank you, Ro. Thank you so much.” Pushing you into the private room, you yelp. “Let go of me!”

The brunette scoffs. “Calm down, I was barely even touching you.”

Shivering, you focus your attention on the luxurious drinking options. Half of these were probably worth what you make in a year, but the rich fed off of that. The brown eyed man hums. “Is that something you’re interested in?” You quirk a brow. A drink? He shakes his head. “Do you want me to touch you?”

You blink up at him swiftly, rubbing your thighs together. “You’re reading into it. I don’t.” Digging his large hands into his pockets, he clicks his tongue. Okay. Then ask me to leave. We can pretend none of this ever happened. A sad whine bubbles up your throat as you fear that he might actually walk out if you even dared to imply. “Just don’t be a jerk.”

A threatening chuckles booms past his lips as he serves himself a drink you can’t even pronounce. He takes a slow sip before he raises his glass up towards you. “You’re getting to me a  bit more than I’d like to admit. I mean, you must know that, right?” Demented, you play with your dress. 

Tonight, you were cosplaying a wide-eyed devil. There was nothing threatening about your appearance, not if you didn’t count your crimson red lips. Plump, round, tempting. Your black gartner drives him to complete insanity as you bite down on your bottom lip, nervously. Your red dress is too short for his liking, but only because others get to enjoy the sight of your heavenly legs. The ones he was drooling over to nuzzle his face in between. Then your horns tussle your hair messily as you pant. He hasn’t even touched you and you were already dripping.

“That’s not true, Mr. Wolff.” The grin widens.. 

“You can call me Toto when we’re alone, sweetheart.” You shiver, lowering your gaze. No, you were right. It has to stay professional in this setting. The brunette rolls his tongue before squinting his eyes at you, fine lines forming. The sight alone makes you melt. “You should have thought about that before you came all over my thigh.”

Shocked at his vulgar words, you bat your eyes, flustered by the reminder. You had done that. But you had the upper hand that day and that was long gone as he towered over you. Inching closer, he drops down to his knees, him still appearing taller even with the action. You squirm. 

“You were not playing fair that day. How come you only got to finish, and I didn’t?” You were hurting me, you cry out like a child as he scoffs at your weak attempt. Tugging you closer to him by your smooth legs, he droops them over his wide shoulders. Oh God. Turning his head to the side, he presses warm kisses. Your skin burns with every single one. “You know that’s not true.” Then, he’s hiking your tiny dress up.

Toto is hit with instant lust as he spots the wet patch of arousal. You whine, legs shutting around him. Do something—anything—but please, touch me. The corner of his lips lift up as he bites onto your red undergarment, pulling it down. Oh, you sigh at the intimate vision. Once you’re on full display, he groans. Your pussy glistens back at him, begging to be stretched out. “You’re…”

Humming, you place your soft palm against his cheek. “Toto…”

Like a starved man, he dives in, lips sucking on your clit as you fly forward, eyes screwed shut. He eats you out as if this was his true calling in life, the way he pinches your hips when you rock yourself against his face. He’s enjoying every second, every drop, as you find pleasure with the way his tongue swirls inside of you, finding new places you didn't know existed. The brunette nips quickly as you gasp, then he strikes his tongue. Warm sensation settles inside of your stomach. T-toto, holy fuck, oh my God. 

You can feel the way he grins against your pussy as he continues his handy work. Slurping your juices, his dark eyes find yours as you pant, light sweat fanning your face. His large hand presses your dress down, further adding to the friction as your tummy is pushed down as well. Wailing, you writher an embarrassing amount that would normally have you pouring out apologies if it weren’t for his strong gaze. 

“Taste so sweet,” he chants, kitten licks taking place. Your head rolls back against the couch, hand clutching onto his hair as he grunts. “Open your eyes for me, schatzi.” But you’re too busy trying to make this moment last, ignoring his command. Pressing his nose against your small hole, you squeal and look down. A coy expression takes over as he pulls away and rubs his fingers against your puffy clit. 

“You s-so fucking good at this,” you pant, chest rises up and down, horns sliding down a bit before he extends his long arm, pushing it back. Your chest tightens. “I know what you’re going to do…Go easy, please.”

Taunting circles edge you further as he bites the squishy part of his cheek. “What am I going to do?”

“You’re going to try and make your fingers fit.”

Your words come out menacing as you scrunch your eyebrows together, a worried look clear to the Austrian. Kissing the inside of your thigh, he nods. “You’re an extremely smart girl.” Another kiss. “I’ll go slow. You won’t even feel any discomfort, just pleasure.”

“Wait!”

Panic strikes his face as you disconnect his left hand from your breast. Bringing his hand up, you inspect the wedding band. Why are you still wearing this? He groans. “Publicity. No one knows yet. They won’t know for a while, so I can’t take it off until then.” You hum, then slide his ring finger into your mouth. You can taste yourself, long digits immediately hitting the back of your throat as you gag. “What are you—”

Then he feels it. Your soft tongue and the way it lubricated the steel before you gently bit down and started pulling his hand back. His cock grows more pained from how hard he’s become. With a pop you smile, eyes crinkling as you show off the metal. “Better.”

“You’re…” I know, you seductively whisper as you return his hand to where it laid. Is that not what you like about me? The man practically growls as he slams two thick fingers inside of you. Your body jolts as you cry out. So good, Toto. His cock twitches at you ragged praises. His fingers barely even fit inside your tiny hole, but it sure as hell reaches your g-spot. White splotches burn your eyes as you dig your nails onto the side of his thick neck. 

“Just like that. Oh, Toto.” He adds a third finger, and you hiss at the burning sensation. “That’s too much! Fuck.” He makes up for it, drawing figure 8’s between your velvety walls as you open up to him. Your legs start to slip down his shoulders as he spits. Keep them in place. You whimper, but obey, nonetheless.

The pad of his fingers continue assaulting your sweet spot, curling at a perfect angle. Your moans grow louder. Chocolate eyes flicker up to face your fucked up state. “Close?” You nod, vigorously. A warm strip teases your slippery lips. “Good. You’re doing so good, Peaches.”

Your hips buck suddenly as you suffocate him with your body, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all. Picking up on your candy nectar, he groans like a madman, greedy tongue swiping to lick every last drop. Shuddering at the feeling, you push his head away from in between your legs and grab him by the collar. For a second, he thinks you might kiss him, but when you don’t he realizes he’s disappointed. Instead, you plant a kiss on his cheek, hot breaths wrapping around his skin.

“Guess that makes us even, Mr. Wolff.”

-

“And then I rode a pony! I begged mama to let me get on a horse instead, but I just got a good scolding. But you would’ve let me, right papa?” Toto theatrically grins at Jack. 

“Don’t tell her, but yes. I would have let you because you're a big boy now, aren't you?” The four year old nods, blond hair covering his eyes as he brushes it away with powdered hands from his donut. I miss you. When are you coming back?

Pressure tugs at the Austrians chest as he sighs. Jack was too young—he wouldn’t understand that he and Susie would no longer be living together. It was a mutual decision to tell him when the time was right, but it still killed him to lie to his son. Especially when he beams back with bright eyes. Toto winces. “Soon.” A pin drops. “Have you eaten your vegetables for the day?” Jack sprints away.

A soft laugh is heard from the other side of the screen as Susie comes to view. “He has not, by the way. Hi, Toto.” The brunette waves. “Are you actually busy with work or are you trying to forget about all your fatherly duties?” 

“Is it that obvious?”

The blond chuckles. “Whatever it is, it’s great that you’ve taken time to yourself. Just don’t take too long.” Signing off, the fifty-two year old is left staring at his own reflection. 

“He’s cuter than the pictures.” Toto flinches with surprise. Standing in a summer dress, you lick your lollipop. “His voice is super squeaky; it’s adorable.”

“Do you need something?”

His question may seem rude, but it’s not meant to come off as so. His voice is filled with genuine concern as he furrows his brows. You shake your head. “I’m bored, that's all.”

The brunette scoffs. “And by all means, you came to bother me.” A giggle dances out of you as you brush your hair back. Your sweet scent reaches him, even though you stand far enough away to make a run for the hills. “But I do have time. What do you have in mind?”

“I want to talk to my mom.” Your words shock him but he listens attentively, watching you as you sit on top of the table, legs swinging with rigidness. “I want to try and fix things.” He frowns. But you’ve done nothing wrong. You shift in an uncomfortable manner. “Well…”

“What did you do?”

“Remember how I got a restraining order, but I’ve never stepped close to Rosie?” He nods. You nibble on your thumb. “I s-sort of lied.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I’ve met her, kind of…” You pout, hazed expression carving out through your doll features. “But I can explain.”

He sighs. “Please do.”

Your cheeks flush. “A few weeks before I met you, Connor called me. And I picked up. He told me he was willing to let me meet my sister, but only if I let him borrow fifty grand. To be honest, I don’t care if I never get my money back— I just wanted to be able to recognize Rosie’s face. Of course I said yes.” The Austrian listens carefully, loopy eyes dedicated to you. “I bought her ballet shoes, the one’s I told you about.”

“She was perfect. She giggled like the most angelic thing and her eyes crinkled in a way that made me love her instantly. I asked why Connor needed the money and if they were in trouble, but he only ignored me. Then he tried to kiss me.”

“He what?”

A timid smile plays out. “It’s okay, he does that sometimes, but I’m always able to push him off because most of the time he’s drunk out of his mind. I don’t normally care, but he had Rosie… What if because of some stupid mistake he put her in danger? I gave Rosie her gift and paid an Uber to take them back home.”

“My mom found out about the meet-up and marched right to my work. Don’t ask me how she got in. She yelled at me with such anger that I almost wanted to cry. She said I wanted to steal both Rosie and Connor from her. I promised that wasn’t true, but she didn’t care. Then I got my restraining order.”

The brunette’s words get stuck as he gapes at you. Clearing his throat, he drums his fingers against the table. “You should have told me the truth,” he begins. Hurt slashes your face—you thought he would understand. He offers a friendly smile. “But still…you’ve done nothing wrong.” A beat. “I can help you. Well, my lawyers can.”

Tears form inside your jello eyes. “Are you serious?”

He nods. “Your sister can’t grow up in a household that doesn’t want her, but keeps her just to twist the knife. Connor will pay for what he’s done to you.” Leaping off the table, you cross your arms. No. You can’t bring that up. He sends a sharp glare. “What he did was wrong, can’t you see?” Your bottom lip wobbles. She’s going to hate me even more. Tenderly, he sighs as he strolls over, cupping your face. “She shouldn’t, but if she does, at least you’ll be free from him. Has he only tried to kiss you?”

Closing your eyes, you release a wet breath. “He’s touched me a couple of times.” The Austrains eyes darken. Pushing his hands down, you quickly take a step back. “But by then I was due to move out, so it doesn’t really matter!”

“It matters a little,” he growls. “None of this is normal.” You flinch at his strong tone. “Sweetheart, tell me one thing; what would you do if God forbid, he did the same thing to Rosie?” 

You gasp. “I would murder him.”

“So, you agree that we have to do something about this?” Hesitantly, you nod. “I’ll reach out to my attorney as soon as possible. I promise you that all of this will get taken care of.” Muscular arms drape over your shoulders as he hugs you. Bewildered, you blink as you stiffen. “You don’t hug much?”

“Nope.” 

He booms with laughter, chest vibrating as you smile at the feeling. Everything about this feels right, so then why does that scare you?

-

He vows to be back as soon as he’s done with the car reveal. I don’t care, you reply as you pop a mint into your mouth, getting ready for work. 

You’re going to miss me, watch.

And damn him, the fucker was right—you did. A part of you wishes he would rush past the doors, yapping about he thought you were dead and didn’t ask for permission to take the Benz. But he was across the world, smiling wide at media duties as you watched behind a tiny screen. It’s good that he’s taking time to see Jack, too.

“Why are you sighing so sad?” Roxy asks, fixing her combat boots. “Not getting any clients? Though I doubt it. They love you.”

You let out a forced laugh. “I’m not sad—tired.”

The red head furrows her brows suspiciously before hugging you. Your arms dangle lazily as you scrunch your nose. She giggles. “Does this have to do with Mr. Toto Wolff? He’s hot—crazy hot.” She untangles herself from you. “He must be the devil himself.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yeah,” she cheers happily. “But also, you’re totally in love.” Your stomach drops. No, I am not. Roxy rolls her eyes. “You’re a good liar, but you’re not that good. I’ve noticed the way you look at him. Like you want to eat him alive as you kiss him until your lips snap.”

You wince at the image. “You have a way with words…”

She beams, thin brows raising up. “I’ve also noticed that you haven’t gone into the private room since he walked in through those doors. So what, you’re just going to keep pretending?”

“You’re such a creep!” you squeal, delicate hand slapping her thigh. She squeals lightheartedly. You’re missing out on a shit ton of money. We’re talking dough. And yet you don't bat an eye because you don’t want anyone but him. Did I nail it?

You pinch your fingers together as you huff. “You’re crazy. Crazy. There is no way I could be in lo—” Hey! The ringing sound makes your blood run cold as you fear to turn around. Look at me. Foxy stares back at you with anxious eyes. Do you know her? Looking down onto your lap, you nod. “That’s my mother.”

“Oh shit.”

A dry hand yanks you by the arm as she spins you around. “I’m talking to you. Why won’t you look at me?” 

You flinch. “I’m working, you can’t be doing this—”

“I don’t give two shits if you’re working or not, if I say we need to talk, then we need to talk.” Ro shakes his head, distressed as he apologizes. I’m so sorry, Peaches. She said she was your mom and I…I didn't know what to do. You smile back softly. 

“Don’t worry. Can you get me a room?”

As soon as your mother enters the dark area, she whistles. “Fancy, but really? Bending over for any man willing to pay you a couple cents? That’s disgusting.”

Your cheeks burn up as you fight back tears. “What do you want? Is Rosie okay?” Panic rushes through your veins as you grab her by the shoulders, shaking her violently. She’s so thin, you think you might break her. “Is she okay, I said?”

“She’s fine,” she yawns. “So…this is what you’re up to? It always…catches me by surprise. Not really.”

“I had no choice,” you whisper meekly. “You gave me no choice.”

The older woman smirks. “Don’t you dare blame me. No one makes you do anything— this was your decision.” 

You let out a tired sigh. “Just tell me what you want…”

Her eye twitches, as if she remembers why she was so angry to begin with. “I got your complaint; you’re suing me for being a bad mother and Connor for…assaulting you? Do you realize how stupid that sounds?”

“I’m not lying—”

“Really?”

“Why would I lie?” you yell back, acid sliding down your cheeks. “I would never make up such a thing. He assaulted me countless times as you never did a single thing.”

“I never saw anything.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “You walked in on it! You called me a slut! I was seventeen for fuck sakes. But no—you blamed me for sleeping with your husband instead.” You take a good look at her; dark undereyes, frail figure, needles imprints everywhere. “You can’t keep doing this. You need to think about Rosie—”

“Rosie, Rosie, Rosie—I could not care any less about her! She just bugs with all her crying. It’s exhausting.”

“She’s just a baby.” Grabbing her hands, you soften your gaze. “If you don’t want her, fine, let me raise her…I swear I can do it.”

Your mother perks up. “You would do that?” Yes. Of course I would, you respond instantly. You’ll never hear about us ever again. Her thin hand cradles your cheek warmly, and for a moment, you let yourself lean against it. Then she pulls away and strikes you harshly, causing you to stumble back. “Why would I ever please you like that?”

Bring your hand up to your stinging flesh, you sob. “I-I…what?”

“Here’s what you’re going to do; you're going to drop the charges against me and Connor.”

“No.” 

She clicks her tongue. “Are you sure?”

Rising up with shaky legs, you keep a firm face even though it begs to howl in pain. “I said no. You’re not going to hand her over willingly, okay…Then I’m taking you to court.”

“Like hell you aren’t.” Tugging your arm, she presses her face insanely close to yours. You wince at the smell of intoxication; you can’t even tell what kind. “I will fucking kill you, do you hear me?”

You let out a wet laugh, ripping your arm away from her tight grip. “I don’t care. I don’t care anymore, but I am saving my sister from you two—no matter what.” Her nostrils flare as she heaves. You let out a sad whimper. “When did you become so inhuman? You used to be kind, beautiful, ha—”

“Heartbreak does that to a person,” she simply states before walking out, leaving you to yourself as you finally come crashing down.

-

He didn’t expect for there to be a racket, but the house felt awfully quiet. He knows you weren't at work—he had checked. He thought maybe you could have been out with friends, so he sighs before resting on the couch. He sits there for an hour or so before heading upstairs to take a shower. 

As soon as he enters the bedroom, he finds you covered with thick blankets as you cry. Alarmed, he rushed to your side of the bed. Oh my God, you shriek at the anonymous person before squirting. “When did you get here?”

“That doesn’t matter—what’s wrong?”

You hope brushing your tears away would stop him from asking questions. “What makes you think something is wrong?”

A pinched up expression maps out. Your chin forms a peach seed as you let out a weak sob and stand on the bed, making you the same height as him, throwing your arms around his neck. He’s stunned, but snaps out of it as he hugs you back, calloused fingers playing with your soft hair. “What’s wrong?”

“My mom visited me at work. She said some nasty things, but that doesn’t matter to me, what does is that she won’t let me adopt Rosie,” you muffle against his neck, salty tears wetting his collared shirt. “She’d rather raise her out of spite. She’s not made for this, she's malicious.”

“What else did she say?”

You pause, sniffling before pulling back with a reindeer nose. “That’s it.”

The Austrian lowered his gaze with subtle threat. “No, tell me everything she told you.”

“I swear that’s all.”

His brown eyes scan your face, but you remain still, only shaky breaths being released. He clenches his jaw. “Where does she live?” Your face drops. Why do you want to know? “Where does she live?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Stop being so stubborn and let yourself be helped—”

“I don’t need your help anymore, Toto!” You purse your lips, trembling hands brushing your hair back. Anger rushes over him as he inspects the purple bruise.

“Who did this to you?”

Sitting back down on the bed, your nose twitches. “I’m moving out.”

“Who fucking did this to you?” His voice is lethal. Thank you for trying to fix things, but I’m sure I can do it myself from now on. “What you don’t seem to understand is that you don’t have to. It was your mother, correct?” Forlorn, you agree with your silence. “What have they done to you?” he whispers, pain lacing his raw voice.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into all of this,” you whisper, salty tears sliding down. “I’m going to kill your image—they’re going to hate you because of me.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” the brunette ricochets back. “All I care about is that you’re okay. That you find the happiness you deserve to have.”

Grimacing, you sniffle, shaking your head. “I’m starting to think that doesn’t exist. Or at least I’m so unlucky that I won’t get a piece,” you joke. “The closest thing I’ve felt to that is when I met you.” His heart melts as he stares back, adoringly. “You’ve helped me in so many ways, Toto. Thank you for that.”

“But—”

“I know.” Rising up on the fluffy bed, you tower over him a bit, pressing kisses on his temples, cheeks, nose, neck. “You’re the only man who's ever made me feel something real. I can’t explain it, but I hope it makes sense.” 

He gulps. “It does. You want to know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve made me feel the exact same way from the moment you stepped into my life.” He closes the gap between you two as you stumble back against the mattress, but his large hands prevent you from getting away. “You’re not perfect—you’re flawed. You don’t have your life together—but you’re trying to. You’re not the tough girl you make yourself out to be—but that’s because you feel the need to build up walls to protect yourself from others.” Your stomach churns with every word he speaks. “And somehow…you have me wrapped around your finger.”

It happens so quickly, the way he presses his lips against yours. He can taste the saltiness but doesn’t dare to pull away. Like an animal, you move your mouth against his, whimpers flowing to his ears like symphonies. Toto knows why you never made the first move; you were scared to admit your feelings. But he was too.

Almost as if you read his mind, you run your fingers against his scalp as he breathes out, against your open mouth. “You won’t do the same, right Toto?” 

“What, sweetheart?”

Gloomy eyes reflect against his own. “Leave?”

“Unless you ask me to, then no.” He pecks your temple. “I can’t even imagine living without you anymore.”

That’s all it takes as you jump on him, silky legs wrapping around his torso like a piece of ribbon. He grunts loudly when you bite down on his bottom lip before letting go. “God, Toto, you’re—” As soon as he sucks on your throat, your sentence dies. Writhing against him, you try pushing him off as he chuckles, then he sets you down against the white sheets.

Immediately, you crawl back to the edge of the bed to where he still stands. Frisky hands tremble as you aim for his belt. Such a pretty girl, he thinks as you slip it off. You don’t have to do this. “I owe you, remember?” Then eager hands push his pants down, along with his boxers.

You knew he would be big, but that was an understatement. Toto was huge. Being 6’5 should have been a warning itself, but still. Drooling over his cock, you lick your lips, doe eyes fixating back to him. “I might not be able to take it all in my mouth,” you sheepishly state, red faced. The fifty-two year old has probably had a much better encounter; you were just making a fool out of yourself. Running his thumb against your cheekbone, the corners of his lips fly up. 

“I’ll walk you through it.”

Humming, you delicately wrap your hand around his length. Even just feeling it makes the heat in your belly grow. He clenches his jaw. Jerking him off, you wrap your lips around the pink tip. The Austrian releases a dirty groan, hips bucking as you smile around him. Pulling back, you stare up expecting the next step. Start off how you normally would. 

Pouty lips welcome him down your throat as you whine, the vibrations sending him into an orbit. When your palm slithers to what you can’t reach, he tsks. “You haven’t even tried.” Soft brows pinch together as if to say; Probably because I know I can’t either way. His nostrils flare. “Relax your jaw.”

Doing as you’re told, you gag as you squeeze your eyes shut and curl your toes. Your back arches, ass flying up as you struggle. A large hand reaches out to smack it. Yelping, you ease your mouth, thick member sliding down furthermore than you could have even imagined. There you go. 

Swallowing around him, you bob your head at a steady pace, reliving the steps, too scared to mess up. The Austrian throws his head back, sharp jaw in clear display as he pants. “Just like t-that, fuck. You’re doing so…shit.” While he’s enjoying himself, tears burst out as you clench your eyes, lashes becoming darker. The feeling is definitely getting him off, but he wanted to make things easier for you. 

Brushing your untamed hair back, he traces the bridge of your nose. Your orbs remain closed, and he finds himself missing them. “Breathe through your nose.” Ragged breaths fly out as your fingers dig against his thighs. He hisses. But gradually, it gets better. Glossy eyes stare up at him, lips stretch around his cock as you continue your filthy movements. 

As if to prove yourself to him, you deepthroat him even more as his head rolls back, floppy hair following along. Soft fingers brush against his legs as he shudders, face twisted with pleasure. Pulling away, you swirl your wet lips against his tip, feeding off of his precum before forcing yourself back down. 

Thick ropes of cum slide down your throat as you moan loudly. The brunette grunts, shaky breaths flying past his lips. With a teasing pop, you kneel up as you open wide. He moans at the sight of his release swimming inside your sinister mouth, then you swallow. Even though your throat is extremely sore, you still beam at him.

“Where have you been all my life?.” Climbing over you, he lays you flat, slipping your dress off. He’s stunned to find out you’re completely naked. Cherry red feathers on your cheeks. “Are you sure you didn’t know I was going to be back?”

Your lips curl. “No idea.”

He wraps his mouth against your bud as you whimper, hand massaging his head as he repeats his actions to the other. You could definitely fall asleep to this. When you open your eyes, you’re impressed to find out he’s completely stripped down, toned body exposed. The sight makes you grow excited, nervous.

“Are you on birth control?”

You curse softly. “I’m not. Crap.” Disappointed, you’re expecting him to climb off, but he doesn’t. Instead, he let out a raw chuckle. “I t-told you I don’t fuck men on the regular—”

“I don’t need the reminder,” he grunts. His brown eyes soften. “What’s your wish in life?”

Confusion paints your face. “To have you?”

“Cute.” Flustered, you focus on his contracting abs. Foaming at the mouth, you try to picture rubbing your core against them. “The other one,” he demands.

“Oh…” No. He can’t possibly mean… Your heart stops beating. “To be a mom.”

“There it is.” 

Briskly, he pushes into you as you wince in pain. I know, I know, he coos. But it’s better this way. It won’t feel so bad in a few minutes. Crying against his humid chest, your jaw hangs open. “It really hurts, Toto. Oh…it burns.” Hot tears reestablish themselves inside your orbs. “You’re too big.”

“Breath, sweetheart, breath.” His voice calms you down as your mewls lessen. “See?” You hum. “I’m going to move, alright?”

“O-okay,” you respond, dizzy. The feeling returns—less painful—but returns, nonetheless. Panic expands through your chest as you begin to think he might split you in half. His cock was just so thick and veiny. But it felt delicious between your velvety walls. “Fuck, baby,” you pant.

“I knew you could do it.” A warm peck lingers on your shoulder. “You feel so tight, schatz. So warm.” He sighs in relief as your tiny cunt compresses against his length, easing the pain from being as hard as a rock. Worse. Strong arms pick your legs up over his bare shoulders, making him travel deeper. 

“Toto, Toto, Toto—”

Eyes entertained against your slippery hole, he raises his brows. Yeah, baby? Getting a hold of his hand, you bring it over your stomach. His jaw clenches. “I can feel you.” Writhing in ecstasy, you toss your head to the side, small whines echoing between the vaporized walls. Pouding into you at a faster pace, he growls, bite marks being left behind on your legs. You hiss, clamping your eyes even harder, which makes you clench around his cock even more.

“Do that again,” he begs. “Do it—” You oblige, attention set on how he moans feverishly, hands adding pressure to your legs. For sure his imprints would be left behind. Taking advantage of the little power you have, you untangle yourself, greedily climbing onto his thick lap. 

“Looking good, Mr. Wolff.” 

He looked more than good—he looked eternal. The way his chest heaves, his soft pants, sweaty hair framing his handsome face, dark eyes praising you as if you were Athena herself. A confession finds into your brain as you halt. Beads of sweat cover his long nose as he appears concerned by the sudden break. Is everything okay? Rubbing your eyes as if you just had the worst nightmare, you blink hastily. 

Roxy couldn't have been right—she never was. Except, she is this time. It's as if a warm glow towers over him, your chest feels awfully vacant, but you’re not scared because you know your heart has found its home in the palm of his hand. You laugh in amusement as you touch his face all over. He smiles, eyes crinkling. “What’s so funny?”

“I love you, Toto Wolff.”

A lump forms inside his throat as he tilts his head. “You do?”

You shrug sheepishly. “I do.” Kissing his lips, you sigh with content. “I love you, I love you, I love you; I adore you.” He can hear the clock ticking as he stares back with his lips slightly parted. “You don’t have to feel the same, you dont have to say it back—I don’t care, but I can’t keep living a life of regret…”

“I love you, too.” Cartoon eyes blink back at him as he chuckles. “Do you believe me?”

“Uh…” Your lips stretch out. “Yes.”

Shifting on top of the Austrian, you make sure to slip him back inside as you moan in unison. Riding someone has never felt so addicting. Gasping at the raw feeling, you dig your nails onto his shoulders. When you look down at him, you are pleased to find him struggling to catch his breath. His fingers pinch your hips harshly as you bounce harder and faster, as if he would regret his words and leave you. “So big.” You drool, hair flourishing around you. “Stretching me out so good, Mr. Wolff.” He growls at you captivating words. “Making it so easy to ride you, huh? Cock brushing against the perfect sp—oh my God.”

Your face twists up with pleasure when the tip of his cock brushes against the mushy part that makes you almost black out. Movements slow down but it’s not long before he lifts you up and slamming you back down. “Toto!” you squeal, flimsy arms reaching out to balance yourself on his wide shoulders. Everytime he hauls you up and you look back at him, he represents like a giant. Your eyes roll back, mouth hanging wide open. “I-I’m close-e-e.”

“Me too,” he grunts. Like a devilicious man on a mission, he slaps your face carefully, forcing you to connect your glossy orbs with his loopy ones. “Gonna let me cum inside? Carry my baby, just like you’ve always wanted?”

“Yes,” you chant. “Yes—all of it—yes.” Cradling his cheek against your sweaty palm, you smile. “Cum inside of me, Wolff.”

With one final push, you both release loud moans, a strong wave of orgasms crashing violently against one another. Huffing, he makes a ponytail with your messy hair before letting go. “You think it worked?” You giggle.

“We’ll have to wait and see.” Leaning towards him, you kiss him gingerly. His mind grows blurry with how meaningful you make it seem. I’m yours—my heart is all yours—but please don’t break it, it seems to tell him as his enormous hands squish you closer to him, as if that were possible. 

“I know of a few ways we can make sure.”

-

Though you had mutually admitted your feelings to one another, there still didn’t appear to be a proper label to it all. Time was slipping, he would soon have no other choice but to leave and face all his responsibilities. 

But you can come back with me, he would desperately bring up as he fucked you against the wall. Tits would be bouncing at a hasty speed as you look back with your mouth in an O. I want you to. You won’t ever have to worry about anything, I promise. You can go back to Uni. You’ll get custody over Rosie, and Jack will be over the moon. We could have a family of our own, just you and I, Peaches. Huh? How does that sound, baby?

It sounded perfect; like a dream. You could taste it already. Early morning calls that you wouldn’t mind because he’d be laying down next to you. Quiet time as you jot down notes and he stresses over the next big decision for the team. And at the end, you would be glad you made the choice to choose him. Just like he chose you.

With shaky hands, you brush his messy hair back as he dotes on your bambi eyes. The way they glimmered extra bright that night; like starlight. The brunette’s face would soften up when you trace his nose, the curve of pink lips, his lines. Everything about him was breathtakingly dominant. 

You’d be a fool to deny. 

So, you accept. 

-

If Toto were to be told that he had died and ascended to heaven; he wouldn’t second guess the possibility. Because being with you felt exactly like that. Every passing second only adds to the amount of love he bottles up for you. It would overflow and he’d be okay; bring out the next. Oh, that one’s full, too? Okay, next. 

All of it made sense. You matched perfectly in sync with him like a cozy glove and he wouldn’t have it any other way. There’d be whispers from others, but he doesn’t care. He’d deal with just about anything for you. 

“You’re leaving so soon.” A click. “Have you thought about quitting?”

He can see you grow as stiff as a tree. Your back faces him, but he can still spot your reflection. Of course you looked absolutely lovely, but there was something different about…God. He doesn’t even know what to call it. 

“I’m not quitting.”

The Austrians' lips form a thin line; shoes clicking against the floor even more. A boom of lighting fills the room as you flinch. He smiles slowly. “Right—not yet, at least. Not until you move to Monaco.”

More heavy silence. “Sure.”

Now he’s worried. Strolling closer to you, he brushes his warm hand against your shoulder, kissing your exposed skin. “What is it?”

His heart stops when he notices you blinking back tears; bloodshot eyes tracing his tall figure. His first assumption is the most obvious; your mother and Connor. They had probably done something, said something, and now they’ve got you—

“I’m taking the car. See you later.”

He blinks. The cold demeanor was something unusual on your behalf, but leaving without a goodbye kiss was alarming. Toto tries to suppress his feelings with a bottle of scotch, but nothing seems to work. He has to see you. 

Gathering his wallet and house keys, he strides out the door before he spots his laptop wide open. As soon as he returned, he would have to answer endless emails, but for now, that wasn’t his priority. Inching closer, he reaches down to slap it shut when his pulse runs cold.

We should think about Jack.

He’s too young to understand anything of what’s going on, Suse.

Let’s just try one last time. I swear I’ll change. 

I love you. 

He knew instantly; you had read the messages. He had sent them, there's no doubt, but that was so long ago. The date was right there; all before he met you. Before opening up to you. But he doubts you spared enough time to spot the tiny detail. You saw his texts and that’s all; the rest was blocked.

Toto’s palms get sweaty, ears burning red, and heart racing faster than a fucking F1 car. How must you feel? You had made him promise that he wouldn’t hurt you and now this? The confusion was completely explainable, but he had to get to you fast.

It’s as if he owns the place, marching fiercely past the open doors that swing once they spot the Austrian. NDA’s were rather foolish when it comes to him now because he just held that much power. That much respect. But he can’t think of why something feels off.  You were hurt, and he felt awful, but no…there’s something else. As if there were an actual wolf lurking deep in the woods; ready to pounce. The hair in the back of his neck stands up, goosebumps forming, and eyes flickering all over the rich club, hoping to find you.

“Hey,” he pants when he spots the familiar redhead. Foxy lives up to her name because her laser glare has him scared for his life. She doesn’t even spare him a second glance before strutting away, a row of men following. The Austrian pushes past them all, pleading just like any other, but for a completely different reason. “Have you seen, Peaches?”

“Yes.”

“Great! Where is she?”

“Around.” 

The dancer beams at the group of businessmen who relax against their seat, hunting down without shame. They wore wedding bands, but who cared, right? Toto’s large hand grasps her wrist, tugging her away as she gasps, causing a commotion. He doesn’t care, he just has to find you.

Brown eyes glimmer threateningly but also soft because they’re both aware he needs her, for she only knows where to find you. “Listen, I know she told you what happened, but it was all some misunderstanding! The messages..they were sent to my ex-wife a long time ago. Before any of this, I swear…you have to believe me.”

Foxy narrows her thin brows, digging a sharp nail against his toned chest. “No, you listen—Peaches is one of the sweetest girls I have ever met; she's my other half, so when you hurt her…” A beat. “That’s it. She doesn’t forgive.”

His shoulders drop like an avalanche. “B-but it was a...you don’t mean that.”

The redhead struts away, long legs prancing like a vixen. “Believe me; don’t believe me—I don’t care. Just leave her alone.”

But he can’t do that anymore, he's in too deep. No matter how many times Foxy cursed him to leave, he just wouldn't. He would explain. Even if it were that last thing he did. All's fair after that. 

“Mr. Wolff?” A red drink is extended out towards him kindly, to which he shakes his head with a forced smile. If you can even call it that. He’s sure he looks awful, dressed in all black, but it perfectly represented him for who he is and how he was feeling. It’s almost as if he were ready to show up to a funeral. 

As time ticks at a snail's pace, he grows more nauseous. There’d be a moment where you see him and he doesn’t know how you would react. Fuck—he doesn’t know how he would, either. To some it may be embarrassing to weep in front of a group of worldly men, but if you looked at him a certain way where he knew it was over? He’d be the first, and without hesitation or shame. 

He’s come to recognize your set as fast as a racing strategy. The stage would light up a soft yellow; swallow the room like the early sun. The piano keys would start off slow, taunting, and almost sinister—Yayo. And of course, you’d prance around like a broken angel, wings brushing your hair like his long fingers would.

But this is strange.

He’s too busy analyzing the colorful club when the lights burn black, only the glass box raining a bright red. He doesn’t even recognize it’s you. 

The intro isn’t the notorious piano lullabies, but rather scratchy violins. Million Dollar Man slithers across the crowded room like a venomous snake, waiting to strike anyone who doesn’t lay their attention on them. 

And this time, you’re no angel, you’re no devil. You’re both. It’s confusing and alarming, but also beautiful and breathtaking. While your dress is cotton white, your makeup is dark and tempting, lips dark red. Your knee socks are tied with a simple ribbon, making men drool like some type of fuckery. You look miserably broken. If anyone were to guess, then they’d say that you’re high off drugs, but that’s not the case. You're high off heartbreak. 

And the simple necklace you wear, with his marriage ring attached to it, is a pelluid indication. Even if it was new level petty.

Toto is in such a trance that he doesn’t even feel when a group of hands push him to sit down, eager to have a clear view of their own. They all secretly envy the Austrian when they notice that he had landed himself the best seat in the house without even trying. 

So, was it fate to be sitting here, in front of you? Was it fate to have met, then hurt you without the means? The music is almost terrifying, along with your black wings and white halo. All of this is utterly puzzling; was he supposed to be into this, or fear it? Was he supposed to feel his heartbeat in the pit of his stomach, drumming against his ribcage, or was he supposed to be at ease? But most important; would you spare him this time to apologize, or would you kick him out of your life? The last notion scared him the most as he sat like a tired soldier, brown eyes blinking to where you start to seductively twirl.

I don’t know how you convince them and get them. Shiny legs drag behind your delicate figure as your eyes roam the room, sighing with every lustful stare. This is purely pathetic, it didn’t make you feel the way you intended for it to do, but shit. All you wanted to do was flee the state and never look back. But there were too many things tying you back; Foxy, Ro, Rosie…A stinging sensation begins to form behind your orbs and you fiercely blink them away, refusing for the thought of Toto to be what brings you down. 

But in a moment like this, what were you supposed to think about? Toto was many things; devilishly, cunningly handsome, tempting, brilliant, intoxicating; but he was also a fucking no-good, professional heartbreaker, a screwed up man who roamed earth without a sense of direction, who truly never deserved to fall in love again, especially with someone was tainted and loyal as you—

But the eyes don't lie. He’s become known by you; someone in your favorite book whom you look for in every page, despite it all. His orbs remind you of your favorite kind of dark chocolate, swirly and dreamy; enough to make you swoon, but they’re filled with more than just that. They’re desperate, as if ready to run endless miles if that's what it took for you to speak to him. They’re loopy, blazing nervously when you spot him, brows knitted with concern.

And he deserves it…you think.

Still, that doesn’t stop your stomach from churning, causing you to panic at the thought of spilling your lunch in front of everyone eyeing the glass box you're hidden behind; it could only ever do so much. Everyone can see your usually tantalizing persona fly out the window, a frail—shattered—girl taking your place. 

He’s tricked you. He made you let your guard down, let him in, and then ramshackled you whole; and he hadn’t been nice about it either. How could you have ever thought he would choose you over someone who actually held his kid for nine months? You had seen the messages that sunny morning; birds chirped, flowers bloomed. He had been busy doing God knows what, and when his bright laptop dinged, you couldn’t help but peek. As you once told him; you loved gossip.

Jack is asking if you remember where he last left his stuffed bear? You know, the one with the white spots? 

Susie. You had heard a lot about her—you’ve read, a lot, too— she was someone to admire. Helped create a path of perseverance for young girls; it was astonishing. The thought of Jack made you smile, then the bear, then her. Which is why you aimlessly scrolled once, playfully, and then you came to a rude halt. 

If someone were to grovel that way for you, you would helplessly fall for it. Fuck, he pratically begged for a second chance. Heat weaved through your body, anger rising, and then falling cruelly with a sense of undeniable ache. You had cried; sobbed. Then you got ready for work.

When he had asked what was wrong, you wanted to stab him with the nearby knife, and the thought scared you half to death. You could tell he was deeply wounded by the cold shoulder, but why the fuck should you care? 

Here—in Machiavellian Nights—trapped behind a transparent case, with disgusting men eyefucking you, you realize; there’s no place to run. An attraction is what you are; tourists are what they all represent. Toto’s massive figure swallowed his seat whole, long legs spread open naturally. And you hate it how handsome he looks, dark clouds painting his usually happy eyes. His chest dances up and down, wrestling to catch a breath. The hollers make him flinch in the slightest, grimacing.

The Austrian is apologizing, cryptically. I’m sorry—I’m so fucking sorry. His lips aren't moving, but you can hear his pleads as the music continues. 

C’mon! Dance, someone demands from afar, rough hand smacking the glass. Gasping, you purse your lips, continuing. Ignorance is horrible; especially coming from you. The idea of going on without you feel like a nightmare—torture. He tries standing up, and he doesn’t really know what his game plan is exactly in order to get to you, but heads turn and harsh arms force him back down. 

It isn’t that hard, boy. To like you, or love you. It was as if you got yanked back into what is truly your reality. You can’t have good things in life. Your father hadn’t died—he had abandoned you. Your mother did too. And Toto…

Toto Wolff was just the same.

You’re glad no one can hear you choking back on tears, you wouldn't dare to fall. But emotions were running high, your throat felt raw, your eyes stung, knees felt wobbly, and it was too much. But aside from your hurt, an eerie feeling hugged your chest, forcing your rib cage to poke you as a warning. You allow yourself to look back up, rapidly scanning the unlit room. Everything was blurry—which didn’t help—but what was it?

You’re no longer focused; your legs sway, your gartner slides down, your nose is starting to get runny, and it was all a mess. Connecting your gaze back to his, you narrow them down like deathly blades. This is all your fault, they scream at him, enraged. If you hadn’t walked into my life, then I wouldn’t be this way. 

You’re screwed up and brilliant. 

“You fucking ruined me!” Running towards the glass, you violently slap and punch, over and over until you no longer feel any pain. Red bruises form rather quickly and everyone begins to murmur.

Look like a million dollar man.

“I hate you, Toto Wolff!” Muffled whimpers flow like a waterfall as everyone turns to face the fifty-two year old who sits with a hurt expression. 

“I can explain,” he pleads, instantly rising up to his scary height and rushing over to where you’re caged. His large hand pathetically grasps it, fingerprints painting the shiny protection between you and him. “Sweetheart…”

So why is my heart broke?

“I’ll regret you for the rest of my—”

Chaos ensues; the volcano erupts. It’s suffocating, the way everyone tramples over one another, scattering like lab rats. The yells of terror make his blood run ice cold, swiftly turning around to face the open room. Foxy lets out a scream filled with agony as she crawls over to the stage. Acid slides down her face, makeup running. The other dancers run to hide where the bartender stands with his mouth wide open, orbs flickering with urgency. He doesn’t know what the hell is going on, but he has to get you out of here.

“Open it!” Foxy cries, hands hitting the clear box so forcefully that her nails begin to chip, light gore beginning to slide down. “Open the fucking stage right now!” She lets out a string of pleas, but no one is listening—they can’t even try to with all the loud noise. The alarms go off and that’s what snaps him out of his spot of confusion and what makes her cry and fall back against her arms.

The glass isn’t shattered like in the movies, all over the floor, no. There’s just a singular hole, scratches circling around it—and spikes of blood coloring the crystal clear mirror. 

Even with eyes closed, face sticky with tears, and blood spurting out of your mouth and chest, pooling around your angelic body, you were still beautiful. The ring lays flat atop your unbeating heart, shining one last time against the cherry lights. You were gone as soon as the bullet hit, but Toto was the last person you had seen. And you wish you had time to tell him you never meant any of it. You could never hate him; you loved him, you loved him, you loved him.

“I…no. No. No.” Fists punch urgently, cuts finding a place in his pale skin. “Open it!” More pounds. “Let her out! Why is no one letting her out?” Trepidation sleeks over him as he stops his actions, taking a second to look at you. Your dark wings had somehow turned darker, your white dress is now drowned in crimson red, your halo is no longer on your head, and your lively skin is now ghostly pale, almost gray. “Peaches…” His voice quivers so much, he almost doesn't realize it's coming from him. “Get up, sweetheart—come on, just stand.”

His chest tightens when you go unresponding. “T-think about Rosie! She loves you; she needs you. I need you,” he declares, voice cracking. “The text messages are a mishap! I only love you, Peaches, that’s all! I swear I do, I swear it’s you…”

He dreads to turn around and face what was now his life. The music cuts, but the frightful screams continue. Toto blinks back the stingy feeling as he flickers up to make eye contact with who’s responsible for ripping you away from him.

You share the same eyes, but hers are sullen now. Her hair looks as if it could have once been glossy, but is now as dry as the desert. Her lips are nastily chapped, but an uncanny curl slips through as she ticks anxiously when Ro and the rest of the guards hold her without an ounce of remorse, cuffing skinny, needled wrists.

Your mother looks down at the gun, at her daughter, then at Toto. An unhinged stare strikes her impentent face.

“I brought her into this world…I can also take her out.”

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

Silverstone All-Nighter

pairing: Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris, Ollie Bearman, Pierre Gasly, George Russell, Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz, Daniel Ricciardo, Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

summary: After race in Silverstone, Lewis decided to show his generosity by letting you comfort his colleagues.

word count: 5.3k

warning: 18+ only, smut, nsfw, rough sex, humiliation, group sex, P in V sex, anal sex, oral (M&F receiving), dirty talk objectification, BDSM, dom/sub, force orgasm, multi orgasm, If you feel uncomfortable, please exit promptly.

notes: writing this really drained me. But I truly enjoyed it. I hope you like it too :) English is not my native language and I am exhausted, so feel free to correct me!

——————————————

It’s been a tough night for all the drivers except Lewis Hamilton.

George Russell started on pole and retired due to a water system failure; McLaren could have pitted with both cars but chose to put a driver out there to take the loss, and could have used a new medium but change the used soft, a race that proved that McLaren is not yet ready to fight for the WCC; Red Bull had a perfect strategy, Max had a stable mindset, but the car was poorly today, while Ferrari as usual should have jailed the strategy team; Pierre got a 50 place penalty, starting from China GP, resulting in a DNS.

Lewis Hamilton led you into an exclusive club — you were his personal paid companion, ready for any of his reasonable or unreasonable demands, anytime and anywhere.

“I love how you do anything for money. ”Straightforward and simple, this is why the world champion loved you. “But tonight, you can’t just be my whore.” As the home race winner who had won it all, he was willing to offer his colleagues some comfort.

You had no room to refuse; you would not meet anyone as generous as him, and for now, you didn’t need any drugs or equipment to get him aroused.

“I also like that you only pay in cash, Mr. Hamilton.” You skillfully unfastened your lingerie, removed your panties and shoes, and folded them neatly aside, leaving only a plus 44 T-shirt on your body.

“Mr. Hamilton?” He questioned the way you address him. You had many endearments for him, daddy, Lew, sir, but Mr. Hamilton he hadn’t heard from you yet.

“I thought it suited the situation.”

You liked to leave all morality behind, the pure deal of money and desire collision. You sat on his lap, one hand hooked around his neck, one hand stroking his cock that was starting to get aroused-just the size your throat is used to, “Give me a kiss.” You stuck out your tongue, “Before I suck your coworkers’ cocks.”

Lewis cupped your face — he kissed you roughly, a menacing soft grunt escaping his throat from time to time, his cock rising between your nimble and erotic fingers, you tortured the open and closed head briskly, trying to probe with the tip of your index finger every now and then, he liked that best of all, and he came extra fiercely every time.

Too bad he was just an appetizer for you tonight.

The booth slowly filled up.

“Lewis!” Lewis didn’t respond to his biggest rival today. He let go of your tongue, panting heavily, his pleasure audible, his cum splattering, and you heard a few f-words from other young boys.

Lewis patted your lower back, and you got up, displaying yourself to your new targets — you had no doubt some are still virgins, like that boy Ollie Bearman who could’t even look at you directly, while others are already winked at you, like Lando Norris and Pierre Gasly.

“You’ll need this, I brought her, enjoy, just one rule, don’t break her.” Lewis grabbed a handful of condoms out of his pocket, “Guys, I don‘t mean to offend, but if anyone has something contagious, better speak up now.”

Nobody cared about Lewis’s words; they were all captivated by you, almost every one of them blurted out a few “fucks”upon seeing you. These boys shared a unique bond; your role here is evident.

“boys, I’m Y/N, you can ask me for anything tonight.” You waved, Lewis's cum still on your hand. For Silverstone, he abstained for a while, and so did these drivers.

“Don’t be shy, tonight’s safe word is 'sunflower' — everyone gets a chance to breed in me.”

“But you can ignore that — she‘s never used a safe word.” Lewis hugged you from behind, squeezing your chest under the T-shirt, “What are you waiting for?”

“This is too much, I don’t wanna be part of it.” Ollie refused, he was so shy that his whole face flushed red, Lewis laughed, “Y/N, go give little Ollie a kiss and show him how good you are.”

”No... please…” Ollie pleaded with the older drivers, “Charles! Charles! Lando!”

Lando shook his head with a look of amusement, while Charles took on the role of a senior, his words sounding very convincing, “This will relieve your stress, it‘s very effective, don’t be afraid, Ollie, be a man.”

“Just take it as your signing gift, baby bear.” You lightly bit his lips, massaged his hair, patiently explored his mouth, curling his tongue and sucking. When Ollie’s tongue finally flicked out, you pulled away from his lips.

You squatted down and took his cock in your mouth, using the lips that just kissed him — this could be considered a kiss of sorts. The boy was bigger than you imagined, and his size was a challenge for you. Adapting took time, your throat spasmed uncomfortably, gradually being stretched open by his growing dick. You used your tongue, moving back and forth.

Ollie’s moans were more pleasant than Lewis’s. The boy didn’t yet know how to control his desires, his moans soft and tender. You heard Lewis’s voice — “I need to get a drink before joining you guys, seeing you all so downcast is making me limp.”

“Watch this first.” Another voice, with a distinct French accent, said, “Bet 200 pounds that our little boy will finish in five minutes.”

“Oh... Pierre, don’t say things like that...” Ollie could barely speak a complete sentence because your tongue was swirling around his most sensitive spot, he couldn’t control his thrusts.

You slowly swallowed his precum, the tight pressure nearly made the boy come in your mouth. You caressed his strong thighs to help him relax, but he only trembled more.

“Two more hundred pounds, Y/N, three minutes.” Lewis whistled at you.

“Don't do this... Y/N... Ah…” Ollie begged for your mercy, he lowered his head, looking down at you pleadingly. You gaze up at him, your eyes filled with desire.

All this, just to make this boy a laughingstock among the 20 drivers in 2025. To be honest, you really wanted to do this, but considering that he kept his dick very clean, you were inclined to be kind, and slowed down the stimulation, gave him five minutes of heaven.

“Whore,” Lewis laughed, seeing through your intentions. If he couldn’t, it would be a waste of fucking you so many times. You didn’t answer but flipped him off.

Ollie was well endowed, though not as well as Lewis. Even though he was gentle, your throat still hurt. After five minutes, his virgin cum came in your mouth — if there is such a thing.

The boy was left whimpering, and you opened your mouth to show him the fluids.

“Can I swallow it, baby bear?” you asked, cum dripping from the corner of your mouth. “No... spit it out. You don’t want to do that,”Ollie said, holding your face. You smiled and made a swallowing motion.

“Oops.”you shrugged. “You’re wrong, I just wanted to do that.”

By the time you got up, Lewis was already gone. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. “Boys, I need a bigger couch.”

“In the next room,”Max replied, his erection pressing against his pants.

“My legs are numb,” you said, holding out your hand to Ollie. He looked at you deeply, as if he knew your intentions were unchangeable, and carried you into the next room.

“You seem to like our little boy?” This question came from George.

You answered him bluntly, “I like money, sex, vacations, and penthouse in London. Lewis pays my bills, so right now I also like your anger... Don’t make that face, babyboy.”You comforted a slightly disappointed Ollie. “Even if you didn’t give me anything, l’d still enjoy sucking your cock because you’re so cute. When you grow up and I get tired of Lewis, you can take me.”

“Don’t favor little Ollie too much. you need to tell us who tastes best in the grid,”Pierre said, gripping your chin. “Or we’ll be unhappy, Mademoiselle.”

“Of course, Frenchman.” You flashed a sly smile. “I’m just good at being a slut.”

The couch in the next room wasn’t particularly large — Max was on top of you. He had been irritated by your Plus 44 shirt for a while. He ripped your shirt open, buried his head in your tits, and bit them. You hold onto his shoulders and spread your legs to welcome him — he had a lot of anger to release into your body.

“Max, Wait a minute.”

“You better have a good reason, Lando.” It’s deadly for any man to be interrupted before entering, and the Dutch driver is no exception. You looked at the man curiously, did he want to be the first?

“You’re like a bull charging at everyone, my friend.” Lando tugged your ankle, and the petals protecting your tender hole are soon spread. All eyes are on the middle of your legs.

“She’s not wet yet.” His fingertip lightly slid over your entrance and teased your clit, finding almost no wetness. “The fun will be much less.”

“Don’t listen to him. You pump in, and I’ll be your syrup fountain,” you retorted nonchalantly. “The night is short; time waits for no man.”

“We should try to make Y/N more comfortable.”Ollie’s face was on fire; he hasn’t learned how to please a woman yet. “Lando, do something.”

Max unwillingly got off the bed, and placed his fully erect dick in your hand, which you started to stroke as he wishes. The impression you had left earlier with Lewis was still lingering. As Lando climbed on, you put your legs over his shoulders, ready for him to awaken your desire.

"How pitiful.” His breath brushed against your plump pussy, his fake sympathy became surreal. “Not even a bit wet.” The pressed petals are spread again, revealing the delicate clit.

“Y/N, how many times do you think I’ll make you cum?”Lando’s thumb skillfully rubbed the edge of your clit, made you start to gasp under his teasing.

The Birmingham boy distracted you, so when your hands were busy with Max and George, you couldn’t focus on Pierre. You refused to give him a blowjob. “Baby, help the boy out, and I’ll give you a special treat.” The finger on your clit turned into a tongue, and the sudden stimulation made you shiver. Lando’s beard tickled your inner thigh, Pierre touched your lips, and brought Ollie for you. The boy didn’t know how to please you and can only watch stiffly from the side.

“Do it like this.” It was the first time Pierre has acted acting like such a helpful older driver, and he found it novel. He cupped your tits and grabbed a nipple, hard and erect like a berry. Ollie imitated him, licked gently with his tongue, while Pierre alternated between sucking and occasionally biting you.

You heard a few shocked French curses — these boys were easily surprised. Skillfully, you pumped Max until he came on your shoulder, then pulled Ollie’s hair with your cum-covered hand, forcing him to be rougher with you. The tease from your clit intensified, sending electric pleasure through your body and making you moan loudly.

Your stomach twitched as you became completely wet, and you sticked out your tongue slightly. As you screamed with orgasm, George came in your palm.

“Bloody hell”, he grasped your wrist, “How can you scream like that?”

“Lewis taught me well,” you panted, “Your turn, baby.”You patted Pierre’s shoulder. “I want to taste you.”

“I didn’t teach her that,” Lewis returned, but from your position, you couldn’t see where he is.

“Do I get no reward?” Lando smeared your juices on your stomach. You looked into his puppy-dog eyes and smiled, giving no answer but took Pierre’s dick into your mouth. Lando understood your hint and didn’t rush to be the first.

The first one willing to fuck you was Carlos, while the impatient ones used your hand, you did your best to make Daniel and Charles feel welcome.

Your tits belonged entirely to Ollie; he gradually mastered some skills, probing for the pressure you liked. You opened your mouth wider to fit Pierre’s thrusts; his rhythm almost threatened to deep into your oesophagus. You also surprised him with a sharp pain with your teeth. Pierre came in the depths of your throat; you unexpectedly swallowed some of it but spat out more.

Insane was the only word that could describe what happened next. Your pussy was clamping his hard dick repeatedly, Carlos’s every thrust made you shiver as the tip was mashed into your cervix and his balls swung forward to strike your clit. Your combined juices ran down his shaft and dripped onto the couch below.

Perhaps tortured by Ferrari, Carlos ran out his strength after the first time he finished, almost rolled off you. You blew him a kiss, then got your legs completely open by the second guy who fuck you — Charles, you liked the rings on his hands and he was wearing a condom, you liked him even more.

“Charles, I want you from behind.” You winked at him, and he fulfilled your position request. Flipped you over into a kneeling position, gripped your waist firmly — easy for him, and you probably had your hands free to squeeze up your kneaded and inflamed tits so Ollie could thrust in, but you didn’t have time to explain.

Daniel wanted you to suck his dick, and he’d seen how Pierre enjoys it, as if part of his soul had been sucked into your throat.

Norris helped Bearman find his place — when this seemingly innocuous phrase took on a deeper meaning, it was enough to show how depraved the scene was.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Lewis jerking off towards you — he had plenty of time to fuck you from morning to night, so he wasn’t in a hurry to fight.

And behind you Charles had already spreading your pussy open viciously, so the rear-entry position naturally penetrated deeper and hit your sensitive spots correctly. The bittersweet feeling rippled along your nerves, you felt your cervix open wide from being fucked, and the juice rushed out anxiously with the lubricant on the condom, stirring up white foam. You’ve forgotten how to move your tongue.

"Charles, you’re too hard — her tongue is frozen!” Daniel pulled out of your mouth dissatisfiedly, the curly hair man’s thick dick wrapped in your spit, the moment it left you your voice drifted out, “Yes.... god, i’m dying…”

As Ollie surrendered in your tits, you let Daniel take the young boy’s place, because you couldn’t control your mouth.

“Fuck, I want to record the sound of her moaning as my alarm clock. ” Pierre searched everywhere for his phone, “Lewis, where did you get this girl?”

“No comment.” Lewis walked up to you, one hand stroking his cock, and one hand into your mouth, pinching out his tongue with his index and middle fingers and playing with it, “Little slut is going to get off isn’t she?”

“Yes, Lew, daddy… yes…” You responded joyfully, let him move in and out of your mouth, then raised your head to wait for Charles to bring you to a second orgasm. You were so sore from his thrusts, and the fluids seeped all the way up to the crack of your butt.

“Who am I?” Daniel grabbed you by the hair, his dick vigorously moving in and out between your tits. You glared at him with annoyance due to the pain in your scalp. Lewis released your tongue, allowing you to respond.

“You’re not a world champion anyway.”

Daniel’s frustrated sigh came from above your head, followed by the mocking laughter of other drivers. His cum dripped onto your lower stomach. You stood up and faced Charles, “Wanna be dirtier?” You pinned the much stronger man to the couch.

“Are you going to just watch or join us?” You turned your head and asked Lando, who holds up a handful of colorful condoms — some of which you were pretty sure Lewis did not bring, “What flavor do you like, kitten? ”

“Cherry.” You sat down quickly, and Charles filled you fully again. The couch shook a bit, Lando — you heard the sound of him rip open the condom wrapper.

He spread apart your buttocks, “Has Lewis touched here?” You shook to rub against his hand, “Lewis has touched everywhere you can see, outside and inside — unless you go in deeper.”

A thick penis squeezed through the narrow asshole, which was not prepared for sex. However, Lewis took good care of you, you have never bled from anal sex. Of course, you’ve never taken two men at the same time — Lando pressed your hands behind your back, began to fuck you from behind, and Charles pushed up in silent agreement. They were both fucking her deep and hard, slapping their pelvises into you. Back and forth and up and down, two strange pleasures intertwined and made you fascinated. Your cries became sweeter and more intense, and the lascivious sounds of water and impact were endless in your ears.

“Who makes you feel better, Y/N?” Lewis lifted your chin, “Front or back?”

“I am curious too — who gets deeper? me or Lewis?” Lando and Charles both started thrusting hard into you at the same time, instead of alternating like the men were doing before. You gasped pitifully and sweetly, and the inner wall tightened in waves. You couldn’t support yourself and fell on Charles’s chest. His broad hand touched your hair, but the next second Lando grabbed your hair and forced you to lift your head. “You must answer when I ask you a question.”

You couldn’t respond; you twisted like a fish out of water, your face flushed with a lack of oxygen. The air got hotter due to the competitive tension between the boys, and you were the center of the molten lava.

After another orgasm, Charles left you, Ferrari and McLaren had never been so in sync — Lando also climaxed, his whole body straining, the rough groans in his throat incredibly sexy but the thing deeply thrust into your back hole was even more so. “i never want to leave, Lewis, name your price.”

“Not for sale.”Lewis shook his head, “Come on, Lando, there are people waiting.”

“You’re clamping tight, girl.” Lando tied the used condom in a knot, “I regret fucking you with a condom.”He switched the track, and plunged into your reclaimed pussy while the rested drivers took his place, all the while you had George’s cock in your mouth, and because of your “daddy finger me please”, he chose to give you something thicker than a finger.

Lando tended to your clit, he dipped into your juices and repeatedly pinched and toyed with that little thing, you came in his hands more times than you can count. You didn’t know how many orgasms you’ve had, not to mention the fact that he was tirelessly fucking you at the same time. Three orgasms erupted together in your clit, your g-spot and your ass. Meanwhile, he pressed his fingertips against the topening of the urethra between the lips of your flower while his dick moved in and out of you without a moment’s pause.

“Hey, my little slut is crying.”

“More than that, Lewis, she pissed all over me.”Lando, however, had no intention of blaming you, after all, he was responsible for the current situation, you squirted wetly all over his thighs, waist and the small half of the couch, mixing with the cum that oozed out of him when he pulled out, dripping and lewd to the point of obscenity, and it looked like he was enjoying the scene, as you sinked into the bone-deep pleasure.

George cummed, and made you squirt once with his finger before plunging into your pussy for a sprint that belonged to the pole driver.

There were more and more condoms used on the floor and there were drivers who didn’t like to use them, like Daniel who waited for a few rounds, he and Max pinned you in the middle one after the other, fierce in heat, your pussy was unconscious from the way he was fucking it and Max was even more ferocious than he was, you had a feeling that the lower part of your body was going to becrushed alive by them.

“Didn’t we fuck you hard enough, Y/N? How come you didn’t squirt?” Daniel asked you, “Or did you have to have one in your mouth to cum, huh?”

You were so sweaty that your throat hurt from moaning, but even then they didn’t let you off the hook, insisting that you had squirt for them, but you were so drained you couldn’t even bring yourself to ask for water.

“Use this.” Lando handed over the fascia gun — drivers always had unexpected goodies - “put it on her clit.”

“No... don’t do that, daddy please! please…” your begging for mercy didn’t help, the more scared you were, the more they wanted to see the effects of the thing.

“I used to tie Y/N to a chair and play with her with a vibrator, it was so good, she couldn’t even remember her name when it was on the highest gear.”

“Good girl, squirt once for me and Max.” Daniel pressed your resisting hands back behind your back, Max pressed the head of the fascia gun against your clit and pressed the switch. You wriggled wildly, the thing was as intense as any vibrator sensation you’d ever experienced, your body contracted and unfolded, “Hold her down Daniel...not bad oooh!” They still had no intention of moving away and you struggle in desperation, uncontrollable tears and drool dripping onto Max’s chest.

“Dirty girl.” Max grinned and rotated the force in his hand, you shuddered until the most stable couch rattled, “How about the highest setting?”

White light rose before your eyes as thin water gushing out in waves along the rim of the head of the fascia gun, he removed that from his hand and an stream of water shoot Max in the cheek. he got what he wants, cum from the intense constriction squeezed inside the canal, he hold his breath and erupts for almost a dozen seconds while Daniel is pinned down by you, barely able to move.

“Relax.” He leaved a palm print on your hip, the shock waved traveling to your mound, and with a dying scream you squirted again without warning, rolling your eyes up like a cramp as your consciousness begins to blur and your soul seems to flow out with it.

“Eh, she passed out.”

“First time getting high like that, I guess.”

When you regained consciousness, you saw a boy you hadn’t seen before. Oscar he seemed to have kept to himself.

The anger of the other drivers was well and truly vented, for the little boy there was nothing but comfort, after all the team’s strategy tendencies were unchangeable.

“You’ll only regret not pit for a week, but you’ll regret not getting on me for the rest of your life.”You reached out to him, maybe an embrace can help him come out for a moment, “Baby boy, you are breaking my heart with your sad face.”

Oscar Piastri fucked you on a chair brought in by who knows, he held your nipples like a little wolf. after the orgasm from hell just now, your clit was numb and tingling, the lips of your flower were swollen and engorged, your pussy was soft, the pain was nearly equal to the pleasure.

You wrapped your arms around Oscar’s waist, trying to let him slow down, but the boy obviously got the wrong idea, and pushed harder. He finished his anger into your body — After Oscar it was Ollie, although he was the youngest, what he had underneath is not the smallest. If he had he been a few years older, he probably would have been able to fuck the living daylights out of you.

Thanks to the work of the senior drivers, he smoothly inserted himself in and even wore a condom — you tenderly caressed the boy’s face, feeling his gentle move. At this moment, Lewis, who hadn’t touched you for almost the entire night, walked over and said, “Open your mouth, Y/N, press down your tongue.”

You wrapped around him skillfully — one Lewis likes to have you suck him in his car, when he is done for the day and needed fifteen to twenty minutes of relaxation, your throat already got used to him.

He was not gentle and you used your teeth, you’ve swallowed too much cum today so you spit Lewis’ out. Ollie was not finished yet but you were almost dehydrated — you were sweating and squirting a lot.

Something was brought to your mouth, and you instinctively sucked it in, swirling it with your tongue before being surprised with an “Hmm”— it was a plastic straw.

“Hydration time,” Lando said with a laugh in your ear, holding a can of beer as you gulped it down like someone parched for a long time. “Eh... Y/N, slow down, no one’s going to take it from you. Slow down.”

Now hydrated, your throat was no longer so dry.

“My sweet boy... kiss me if you want to...”

Ollie kissed your lips, and you were connecting up and down in a marvelous way — he learned how to fuck, but wasn’t good at kissing yet, and that wasn’t good.

“If she gets pregnant, we won’t even know whose it is.”

“English seed and French seed are quite easy to distinguish.”

These words stimulated the little boy, and you could feel his pulsation inside you. He encircled your ribs and neck, and the incredibly soft inner wall clenched to him. Every hidden seam was expanded and dilated, and lube dripped down your thighs. they’d all came round on you, and it could be considered a Silverstone miracle of the night that you’d lasted as long as you did and still be conscious.

“Y/N... Y/N...” Ollie moaned your name, and you rubbed the back of his head, nudging his shoulders to push him off of you — why is it so easy for little boys to get emotional during sex?

“Boys, who wants a second round?”

You lazily waved your hand, not knowing who left the kiss marks on the inside of your arm. The purple-red marks were extremely eye-catching under the dim yellow light. Your two holes haven’t closed tonight, like the creamy filling in a sandwich cookie, soft and squishy.

They were no longer satisfied with simple sex, but cover your eyes with clothes, made you guess who was fucking you. Said the name allowed you to switch to the next person. For you, that was a game with no rewards, only “punishment”, however, as time passed, rewards and punishments became blurred.

“Babe... Babe... who the hell are you?” You didn’t know how many people it was been, your pussy was hot and tingling, the flesh was ripe and soft, and the man on top of you reminded you of who he was with a kiss, which could be considered to be helping you to cheat, and his whiskers tickled your neck as you purposely yell out the wrong name.

“Lewis, Lew, fuck me,” you wrapped your arms around Lando’s waist, acting especially enthusiastic, the laughters around you burrowing into your eardrums, and you guessed that Lewis wasn’t happy about it. You could just imagine the sexy look on his face when he was annoyed.

“I’m dying, baby, let me go...”

“Want me to fuck you a little longer then?” Your exaggerated yelling failed to dazzled him, you heard a pleasant chuckle as Lando ripped your hand away and placed it on his face, you felt his sweat, and gushing breath, the veins in his neck feel as if they’re about to burst, his chest was covered in your spit and sweat — even you were about to melt into a puddle of syrup and just attached yourself to him until the end of the world.

“Lewis… Oh… Lewis…” you lifted your aching waist to meet it, a sweet and sour tingle came from your mating place, while you didn’t want to let him go, your legs clamped around his lean, tight waist, rose and fell with his thrusts.

“How many times have you cummed, Y/N?” So many times — that was a really difficult question — “Oh fuck…” You were pulled back to reality by Lando’s sudden speeded up, your eyes turning from dark to colorful.

“Your clothes are wet from crying, Y/N, do you want to end this game?” He touched your face and pulled out of you, slipping out with some of his cum, your pussy couldn’t close for a moment so they oozed out.

“No.” You decided to do your best to make the game more enjoyable — sometimes you said the wrong name on purpose, sometimes you screamed the boy’s name just before they cummed, their hurting huffing sound more like a reward to you.

Then your game leveled up: while one of the boys fucking you, one signed his name on you, and you had to guess who it is. It was insane — these boys write like they were chased by mad dogs, made it impossible to guess.

The writing on the back and chest were recognizable, something written on your thighs — you were sure it was not a fucking name, more sounds of pen caps being pulled out — they all had markers with them, damn good habit. They snatched at your bare skins, you started to worry about the body lotion you were gonna need tomorrow.

By the time everything ended, it was already 5:00 AM the next day. If you didn’t leave soon, the sun and paparazzi from the Sun would both arrive. You were utterly exhausted, covered in kisses masks, ignatures, phone numbers, and even some home addresses, which you found somewhat amusing.

“Can you still walk?” Lewis asked, looking at you with some concern, though his face appeared nonchalant. You shook your head, not wanting to look at him or speak. He scooped you up in his arms, and you fell asleep deeply in his embrace.

He placed you in the hotel’s Jacuzzi, just as he always did after you finished. He wanted to wash off those phone numbers, and you could tell — jealous type.

When you woke up, it was already 7PM. Lewis was gone, as he always was when you finished. Next to your bed were a new dress and new underwear, in your exact size. The bed was covered in fresh cash, exuding an alluring scent of money. Some bills even scattered on the carpet — new iPhone, a Tiffany box and a Birkin bag you had your eye on were beckoning you.

“I love you, Lew.”

You nibbled on the cold pancakes and coffee from the tray beside your bed, sitting amid the pile of money, reminiscing about the previous night.

Something came to your mind, and you lifted your hair, taking a photo of the back of your neck. There was a string of phone numbers and a signature there, written in fine marker near your hairline. Lewis hadn’t noticed it; it had luckily remained.

“Smart guy,” you praised, saving the number in your new phone.

Call Me (If You Want My Skin)

3136 words | ⚠️ Smut

Title from Funeral Grey by Waterparks

Lando's stream the other day...did things to me..

Up on ao3 too

Call Me (If You Want My Skin)

Lando waves goodbye to his chat and hits the end stream button. As he takes a moment to stretch out his limbs and place his clunky headphones onto the desk, he drags a hand lightly over his stomach, trailing down to his inner thigh. He's been fully hard in his sweats for the majority of the stream - it's been over 2 weeks since he'd last seen Oscar and it's getting to him a little. Every jokey comment or fake moan his friends had shot back at him over the past 3 hours had quite the effect on him - not because he's attracted to them, no, but because they were enjoying his show. He liked it; moaning and whining to no one in particular, knowing it'd likely get a lot of people hot and bothered (not that he'd admit that out loud).

All throughout the stream, his mind was fixed on thoughts of his boyfriend whispering into his ear, hands on his waist. The 1000th moan of the evening slips past Lando's red lips, much quieter and less exaggerated than the others, as he moves to press the heel of his hand lightly onto his leaking dick - grinding up against it. The pull of his soft sweatpants over the bare skin of his cock feels delicious but nowhere near enough, Lando kind of wishing he had worn boxers underneath. Chat had thought he was joking when he'd told them he was going commando. He's still tucked fairly close to his desk, should the camera still be rolling, nothing would seem too far out of the ordinary - ordinary for that stream at least. He could almost pretend he was still streaming; that any stragglers that stayed behind after he should've finished were now getting the real show to his preview throughout the night.

Eyelashes fluttered shut, Lando almost misses the call popping up on his phone - annoyed he'd set it to vibrate and inadvertently foiled his own plans of getting off in peace. He's much less annoyed, however, when he takes a peak at the caller ID and sees '😍😍' flash across his screen. Heart eyes. Just the voice he'd love to hear. He grabs for his phone, desperation and weeks of missing Oscar settling in all at once. He should probably double check he definitely ended the stream but he's too caught up in his excitement to think twice about it. Lando answers the call with a rushed "Hi! Hey, what time's it for you? How come you're calling so late? I just fini-", he's cut off from his flurry of questions as a gravelly, Aussie accent cuts throughs; "You really are a whore, aren't you?" Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

All Lando can do is whine in response; all high pitched and wanting, eyes shutting and jaw dropping under the weight of Oscar's question. "You're missing me that much? Two weeks away from me and you're already moaning for anyone that asks... every time you opened your pretty mouth to moan like a whore, all I could think about was ramming my cock down your throat to shut you up." He says it so casually; as if he's just chatting about his day as Lando'd expected from this call. The sound the bold words rip from Lando's chest is the type of shit he'd be proud for people to hear - the soft pressure he's keeping on his dick suddenly nowhere near enough for him. He wants that. So, so bad; wants Oscar filling his throat and taking what he needs. "Turn your camera on for me. I wanna see what I paid for." Oh. Oh! So he's really leaning into the onlyfans thing. Shit- yes, please. Maybe.. maybe he should make an account..

Something about Lando is that he really likes making other people feel good - sexual or not - so it tracks, for Oscar, that he'd practically fake an orgasm in front of 20 thousand people without even being asked. Once Lando's set up his phone camera, right next to the webcam he was using not even 10 minutes ago, he sits back in his chair with his hands on his knees; thighs pressed together. Oscar's greeted by an already debauched looking Lando Norris; curls messy and face tinted pink. He's fixing his camera with a desperate, begging and innocent look; digging right into Oscar's soul and jerking him off. 'Fuck, he's pretty', the Australian's hips buck with the thought. "Osc..Do um- do I get to see you, too?", the question accompanied by fluttering eyelashes and a tactical lip bite; he's not winning this, no matter what he tries on the Aussie. "See me? I thought you were a cam boy, Lan? Why don't you put on a little show for me, darlin'? See if you can earn it. Get out of those sweats." Disappointment at being denied what he knows is a gorgeous view of the Aussie hard in his pants quickly washes away as Oscar's words register. He's never moved so fast in his life, he's sure, as he pushes the grey sweatpants down tanned thighs - cock resting against his stomach and leaving drops of precum over the obnoxious orange of his shirt.

He's further from the desk now, following his battle to free himself from the sweatpants that were since flung elsewhere in his room, and looking slightly unsure towards his phone; towards Oscar on the other end of the call. "What are you waiting for? I asked for a show." Lando nods and spins absently from side to side on his chair, a thoughtful look filling his eyes as he tries to figure what he's supposed to do - Oscar usually tells him, during sex, exactly what he wants from him...hm.. He can work with that. Gemstone eyes flit back to the camera, strong eye contact making Oscar gasp quietly on the other end of the line. The Brit brings his hand up, fingers scanning across his bottom lip, playing and gently tugging on the pink flesh teasingly - large fingers threatening to break the threshold - as his eyes drag up and down to give the impression he's checking Oscar out. After a moment, Lando drops his hand back to the top of his thigh, drawing circles into the flesh with his thumb, as his teeth push into the pillowy pink of his lip. "I see we've got a few regulars here tonight..", a dangerous smirk and sultry tone hugging his lips, "Piastri.. long time no see, baby. Any requests from my favourite, long time patron?", fluttering eyelashes bat along his cheekbones as the younger man stares at the elder through his screen, hard cock heavy and twitching against his stomach.

Oscar always knows what Lando wants, what he needs - even going as far as to concoct this pretence of an Onlyfans roleplay to give him an excuse to pretend he's being watched. "Oh, baby, you know I love it when you tease; when you take your time with it and touch yourself nice and slow for me. But you know what I love even more?", he pauses for a moment, waiting for the questioning zealous nods he knew Lando would provide, "I loved all those pretty sounds you were letting out for us earlier.. and, oh, you get so loud with those long fingers stretching you open." There's a familiar, commanding edge to his voice that somehow settles the Brit's nerves while working him up even more. "Do you understand me, Lando? Are you gonna be a good slut and show us all how well you take it?" By now, Lando's head is thrown back against his seat - eyes closed, neck stretched as his back arches from the chair. "Fuuck- Oscar." It's breathy but tinted with a slight growl - reminding Oscar, once again, of how noisy his boy had been earlier in the evening. "God, that neck, baby. I just wanna lick it, suck on it and mark you up nicely - so that everyone knows you're mine. They can all look, can hear you begging, but we all know you're begging for me, Slut." It's not always the most nuanced, their dirty talk, but it always manages to hit Lando right in the gut and tighten around his balls and rip a groan from his throat as he imagines Oscar’s lips trailing along his neck and collarbone.

A deep breath to steady himself, then Lando's hand drifts over slightly and rests heavy atop the flushed heat of his cock - not really touching, nothing that’d feel exceptionally good, just resting - like a threat to Oscar’s sanity. His wet tongue slides out to soak his lips before retreating back to his mouth. Oscar watches on, hand dragging lower as Lando reaches under the hem of his shirt - the offensive colour covering his beautiful face as he peels it from his skin, a light sheen of sweat staring back at the Aussie as he gazes at the flex of Lando’s arms. After tossing the shirt to the far corner of the room, Lando brings his large palm to his throat, lightly wrapping his fingers around the thick muscle before slowly moving down until his slightly calloused fingertips can graze against the puckered bud of his nipple. A whining moan leaves Lando’s lips as the rough skin drags across the sensitive, hard nub of flesh. Oscar’s hand grips tighter around his cock, groans leaving his throat as he watches Lando roll the bud between thick fingers, writhing under his own touch. Lando spares a brief thought to the camera, still unsure that he definitely ended his stream; a shot of adrenaline shoots through him as he considers the possibility of thousands of people watching him play with himself for Oscar - deciding not to check, he likes that he really could be showing himself to the world.

High whimpers are punched from the elder’s mouth as he pinches his nipple, tugging gently a few times before dusting across his pecs to the other bud. Lando moans and palms at his chest as he pinches and teases his other nipple; his hips bucking up in a desperate search for friction, back arching into the sensation on his chest. Oscar’s palm circles over the head of his cock, collecting the beading precum and slicking the glide of his hand. “So sensitive.. Bet you could come just from that, huh? Sit there, playing with your tits, moaning while we watch.”, the Aussie speaks through his grunts and quiet moans. Lando’s thighs squeeze closed, hips jerking, as his instincts take over - trying to find any amount of friction for his dripping cock; precum oozing out in waves as Oscar’s words sink in.

A shuddering breath leaves Lando’s lips as he forces his hands off himself, reaching forward to retrieve the bottle of strawberry scented lube he keeps in the back of his desk drawer - just in case. As he moves, opens his mouth and prays his voice isn't too wrecked already; “Did you enjoy the stream, Osc? Was thinking about you.. whole time. Wanted your hands on me, your lips.. Got hard thinking about your thighs.. want them- wrapped around me, pushing against me.. wanna ride your thighs, Osc- fuckin’ gorgeous.”, He’s breathless and blushing by the end of it but, it was worth it to hear Oscar’s quiet groans become louder and the little whimpers he lets out in between. The thighs in question are shaking from his boyfriend's words, imagining Lando’s tanned skin against his pale legs as he chases his pleasure in Oscar’s lap. Before Oscar can reply, tell the curly haired god in front of him how filthy his mind and mouth can be; how all he can think about is Oscar’s body - how good he makes him feel, Lando is turning away from him. The muscles of Lando’s back ripple under golden brown skin as he moves to straddle his chair - cock pressed hard against the leather back. The Australian’s brain short circuits momentarily as he watches Lando’s massive hands grip the thick flesh of his ass and pull his cheeks apart, presenting his hole to Oscar - Oscar who’s free hand is reaching for a pillow to stuff between his legs as his groans carry down the call. A deep groan rips from Oscar’s chest as he grinds his dick against his pillow just as Lando begins to press a slick finger past the puckered pink of his rim. He loves those fingers; they both do - so perfectly long and thick, reaching and stroking spots deep inside them both.

Oscar wasn’t kidding, earlier, when he’d said Lando gets loud with his fingers pumping in and out of himself. Whines and whimpers drip from red, bite-swollen lips as the Brit presses his middle finger deep - down to the knuckle. It's always a slight stretch - just from one finger - as the ring of muscle at his entrance begins to relax around the thick digit he holds inside himself, rocking his hips gently against it. The leather seat is slick with precum as Lando’s desperate cock rubs against it, sliding over the lightly textured fabric. “Fuck, Lan- Are you sure you ended stream, baby? You sure you’re not broadcasting that peachy ass and pretty hole for the world to see? To drool over? Oh, but you’d love that, wouldn’t you? Love to show them how well you take it- mhn- make them want you even more, show them how much you love it when they watch.”, eyes glued to the screen as he speaks, Oscar watches as the thrusts of Lando’s fingers falter, his jaw falling loose and revelling in all the beautiful sounds he’s rewarded with.

Lando slowly picks up speed after recovering the rhythm of his thrusts, adding a second tan finger and reaching deep inside himself. A down-right pornographic moan leaves Lando’s slack jaw as he spreads himself on his fingers - scissoring them inside his hole and caressing his walls, just brushing his prostate. Oscar slows his grinding, knowing he needs to last and the sight alone of Lando fucking himself open on his fingers almost too much. The sounds Lando lets out are reminiscient of the fake whines he was spewing on stream, high and girly. “Much prettier than earlier, Lan, such pretty sounds for us. God, you’re such a slut for it, you know? Fuck- All those jokes and comments.. Leaning into the mic to moan for us? You love it, babe, fuckin’ love being watched and praised, don’t you?” Oscar’s stream of consciousness flooded by whines and panting moans from the other end of the call - Lando’s back arching as he tries to take his fingers deeper, prodding a third into his loose, wet hole. “YES! Fuck!- yes- Osc, fuckin’ love it.. ah- ah- mhn!-”, the Brit’s fingers increase their pace, thrusting quickly into soft heat as his hips push back to meet them. High whines and moans fall freely from Lando’s tongue as he rams his prostate over and over - riding his fingers and grinding his cock against the chair, head thrown back with pleasure. Oscar’s own hips can’t help but buck at the sight, his eyes rolling back at the pressure on his dick, groans dripping from his mouth as he quietly pants Lando’s name. “Made me laugh, Lan, fuck- When you called yourself daddy.. hah- mhn- Certainly not how i remember it, baby. Getting a bit cocky, don’t you think? You’re no one’s daddy, but you are everyone’s whore, aren’t you? Would spread your legs for anyone, just to prove how good you take it.- fuck!-”, he’s not even sure what he’s saying anymore, brain hazy from the image of Lando in front of him - head thrown back in a constant stream of moans and whimpers.

“Oscuhhh.. Fuck, Osc- im so close! fuck, please, please- can touch myself? Please i need it, fuck!-”, sweet begs spill from his boy’s throat and all Oscar can do is grind down harder - his own orgasm taunting him - and chuckle darkly through the phone, “Nah, babe. You cum on your fingers or not at all.”, that deep, commanding glint sits over Oscar’s words and Lando whines indignantly before driving his fingers in faster. He grinds the pads of his digits against his prostate for a few moments, moans falling silent as his jaw hangs in a lovely ‘O’ shape. The elder’s voice is breathy and almost two octaves higher than usual as he gets closer and closer to bliss, begs spilling from his mouth before can even think. “Please! Please, Oscahh- fuck, fuck, shit!- I’m so close, Osc, please- I can’t, i can’t- need more, ah, Oscuh pleeease..”, pathetic whines and pleas reach Oscar’s ears as his hips drive hard aginst the pillow between his thighs, the sounds of Lando - so close to release but, needing just that little bit more - sending him completely insane. “Fuck, Lan. Yes you can, you can do it for me, babe. Be a good slut and cum for us, Lan. You know, you never did end your stream. There’s a few thousand people watching your fucked-out-whore-hole swallow your fingers and fucking loving it!”, Oscar spills those words and stares in awe as Lando’s muscles tighten in response, thighs shaking and hips twitching as he cums against the chair - long fingers still buried deep in his slick, pink hole - panted moans curling around his ears.

Lando barely registers, through the thick fog of bliss settling over him, the sounds of Oscar moaning his name and coming undone on the other end of the call. As his breathing begins to slow and his muscles relax slightly, Lando pulls his fingers away and hears Oscar groan at the sight of him clenching around the emptiness that now replaces his hand. The toned body on camera turns back around, slumping tiredly in the desk chair - spread legs and sticky with a wrecked look on his face. His hair is sticking in every direction, lips bright red and slightly bruised from how hard he’d bitten them, a thick layer of sweat and sex coating latte skin. As he lifts his gaze to look at the camera, a dark pink blooms over Lando’s face and travels down his chest as he remembers what Oscar had said. He didn’t end the stream. Thousands of people just watched him fuck himself while his boyfriend spewed filth into his ears. Fuck. Just as the post-nut clarity begins to settle in his bones, Oscar opens his mouth - the man must be psychic - and tells him through a gritty, gravelly voice, “Don’t worry baby, that was only for me. I wouldn’t share the look of you spread and desperate with anyone - let alone thousands of strangers online.. not for free anyway.” He can hear the smug smirk in the Aussie’s voice. Fucking bastard.

“You’re a dick,”

“You liked it.”

𝐦𝐚𝐦𝐚 𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐩𝐚 - 𝐥𝐧. 𝟒 (& 𝐨𝐩. 𝟖𝟏)

summary: you and lando are blessed with a beautiful baby boy. content warning: fluff, humor, slightly suggestive at times, and mainly crack/shitpost energy. reader owns & works in her bakery in monaco. images used are not mine. pairing: lando norris x fem!black!reader (& platonic oscar pastry) genre: smau & written fic combination (it's a longgg one)

author's notes: y'all i'm warning you i took it too far this time. it's long aslllll. but it might be the best thing i've ever offered to f1 tumblr in my entire career.

grab a snack, drink, and tuck yourself into a comfortable position xxx

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imessage • preseason 2023

That’s how you find yourself outside of the MTC in the mid-morning two days later. You’re mildly…exhausted, after commandeering the kitchen in Lando’s Silverstone flat to make a sickening amount of banana bread to feed all of McLaren. After tipping your Uber to the MTC double what the ride costs (for allowing you to stuff his car with a hundred pounds of your decadent treat and helping you unload them into the lobby), you’re greeted with warm welcomes and hungry eyes from the staff. Eager to eat, they’re quick to find you a couple of carts to help you move all the banana bread to the communal area. You’re walking backward to make sure none of your sliced loaves fall, smiling with all the workers as they follow you through the building. Setting up shop, you hand out your sliced banana bread, chatting and catching up with everyone as they sing praises over your sweet treat. Word travels around the MTC quickly when it comes to you bringing baked goods and it comes as no surprise to you when you see a perplexed and overwhelmed Oscar Piastri join the line. You’re bursting with excitement and anticipation by the time he’s picking up his slice.

“Thank you for the banana bread,” Oscar expresses softly, his smile boxy.

“Oh, of course,” you dismiss his gratitude lightly, struggling to keep your cuteness aggression at bay, “I’ve been doing this for the factory since Lando joined–and I figured it would be a good welcoming gift for you!”

“Wait–are you Lando’s girlfriend?” Oscar chokes on his bite of bread.

You rush forward to pat his back, ordering for someone to get him a glass of water; you would hate to be responsible for the death of Mclaren’s rookie driver. When his airways are cleared, you exchange proper greetings and you are quick to make sure Lando has been treating him well. 

“Honestly, I should’ve known it was you” Oscar chuckles, “Lando cannot stop talking about you. Zak had to establish a rule that only allowed him to mention you two times an hour.”

“That must have been rough for him,” you snort dryly, “the rule was five times an hour last year. Anyways, Oscar–who do you main on Mario Kart? This could make or break our friendship.”

You find yourself enamored with Oscar as the conversation goes on. He stands and keeps you company as you continue to hand out banana bread. It’s mostly you doing the talking; Oscar’s quiet, a man of few words but he listens well. He has a sarcastic sense of humor that is similar to Lando’s yet completely different: Lando’s jokes are loud, Oscar’s are hushed. He’s humble, shy even, flustering when you lightly tease him. You’re well past having Oscar as your friend—you’re convinced that he’s achieved little brother or son status.

“Banana Bread!” Zak shouts as he walks up to the two of you, Lando at his side, “Please tell me this is your homemade version?”

“I would never settle for store-bought banana bread,” you gasp dramatically, “It’s homemade as always, Zak. This time I did my grandmother’s recipe instead of my own.”

The CEO practically jumps with glee and rushes to grab a couple of slices–he’s only had this version of the dessert once, and swore it changed his life. Lando walks to you, pressing a kiss to your temple before nodding at Oscar.

“What do you think, love, “Lando hums to you softly, “Did he pass the test?”

You blink up at him and whisper, “I invited him over for dinner tonight—do you think we can use one of the printers here to print out adoption forms?”

bahrain • 2023

After qualifying, it felt like you and Zak were the only people in the garage who remained optimistic for race day. Lando was less than pleased with placing 11th; he parroted words of positivity and hope for improvement but in the privacy of your hotel room he crumbled. He buried his face in your neck muffling just how low his expectations for this season are. You tried to convince him it was too early in the season—the first race weekend—to make that decision but, he was too in his feelings to see reason. 

Oscar was disappointed in himself for placing 18th. When he took off his helmet after returning to the garage, you could see the doubt in his skills lingering through his eyes. You pulled him to sit with you as you continued to wait for the second session to begin and gently reassured him that this wasn’t an accurate representation of his skills; Formula One is a massive change from Formula Two. Oscar nodded at your reassurance but you could tell he was still freshly in shock at his “terrible” performance so your logical advice wasn’t believed. 

On race day, however, you found your positivity dip as well. Oscar DNF’d on lap 13 and rage filled the spot that optimism used to inhabit. The Australian was handling his retirement better than you were; he brushed off everybody’s apologies and went straight to reviewing his data and watching Lando’s race—you, however, wanted to snap at any of his mechanics that walked by. It wasn’t like Lando’s race was any better if you could call what he was doing a race. Slow pit stops, six pit stops at that, the fast lap gamble failure, finishing last, and being two laps down from the race leader…Zak took one glance at you and quickly made himself scarce.

You rode back with both of the boys to the hotel and nearly cried for them with how down the mood was. On the walk to your rooms, Oscar attempted to exchange goodbyes with you and Lando before you cut him off.

“Uh-uh, nope,” you shook your head, “I pre-ordered dinner for us. Come eat?”

Oscar stuttered, “O-oh? I don’t want to intrude–”

“Oscar Jack Piastri,” both he and Lando winced at the sound of his full name, “I’m not going to let either one of you go to bed on an empty stomach. You’re going to eat dinner with me and Lan and you’re going to drink several glasses of water so I can make sure you’re properly rehydrated. Understood?”

“I would love to have dinner with you guys,” Oscar blinked at you in fear, “Also, how do you know my middle name?”

You laughed as you unlocked the door, holding it open for both of the boys as you walked in, “I had a wonderful conversation with your mother, of course.”

“When did you meet my mom?!”

australia • 2023

You were on the edge of losing your voice as you screamed and cheered with Nicole Piastri and Adam Norris for both of the McLaren boys and their double points finishes. The two drivers finishing in the midfield felt like the team had figured something out for Oscar’s home race (if you ignored how almost half of the drivers retired their cars). The Piastri’s invited everyone to a local restaurant to celebrate Oscar’s first points in Formula One, but before you and Lando headed out, the two of you nearly lost your minds.

The two of you forced him to pose with his car and take several pictures with it, strongly suggesting that he smiles big and wide for the camera. Fernando and Lewis walked by and burst into laughter, claiming that you and Lando were treating Oscar like a child. So, obviously, the two of you committed to the bit. You guys cooed and called Oscar’s name, clapping and jumping to pretend like he was a toddler whose attention needed to be grabbed to have him look at the camera. The rookie cringed in embarrassment, cheeks burning red as he tried to convince you guys to stop making a fuss over him.

Lando gasped, sickened at Oscar’s words, “Oscar! How could you say such a thing to your mother and me? We only want to celebrate our boy!”

You nodded furiously in agreement, nearly breaking character at the dumbfounded look that rose to the Australian’s face.

“What the fuck,” Oscar blurted out, yet he continued to smile for your camera.

“Oh my god!” You said appalled, “Lando did you teach our son that foul language?! I told you not to curse in front of the baby!”

instagram • bakewithyn • april 6th • melbourne ⚑

liked by, oscarpiastri, landonorris, mclaren, markwebber, and 413,257 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday oscar 🥳 there’s no birthday gift like scoring your FIRST EVER POINTS in f1 at your HOME race but !!! i’m super happyyy you enjoyed the 🐨 cookies i made for you (lando helped ig 😐) 🤗🤗🤗

tagged oscarpiastri

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📌 yninstagram ps! these are limited edition cookies at my bakery for oscar piastri day!!! first come first serve until sell out! all proceeds go to the australian koala foundation as it was oscar’s personal request 😇

➥ user charitable king shit fr 👑

➥ user FUCK i wish i was rich enough to visit/live in monaco

➥ user don't worry, they're nearly sold out already and the bakery opened three hours ago !!!!

nicolepiastri these were so tasty! i wish i had your baking skills

➥ yninstagram tysm mama piastri !!! i'm blushing

➥ user mama piastri???? im crying

user the koala photo with the bow 😩

➥user what r u talking about?? i only see a picture of oscar with a bow?

➥ user fr i only see oscar 😵‍💫

user "lando helped ig" what did he do? look pretty the entire time you baked LMAO

➥ landonorris actually i was allowed to put the ingredients in the bowls AND preheat the oven too 😤

➥ landonorris and i always look pretty wtf

➥ user omg...yn gave him the toddler tasks 💀💀💀

oscarpiastri the cookies were so good! they nearly tasted better than my first points felt

➥ yninstagram omg high praise from the man himself 🤯

➥ oscarpiastri had to fight my sisters to make sure they didn't only leave me with crumbs

➥ user oh i understand that eldest sibling battle

➥ user my little sisters bite i think they have rabies

➥ user oh what a shame. euthanasia is an option 🤗

miami • 2023

The energy after Miami was rightfully terrible. The car is shit; Lando lost a position from where he qualified to make him P17 and Oscar maintained his P19. It’s hot, and humid, and everyone in the garage is miserable. McLaren is a family. When the boys don’t do good, everybody understands and feels their pain. Nobody likes seeing the boys with frowns on their lips and sadness in their eyes, but it’s becoming a usual appearance during this season. So to turn those frowns upside down, you went on a hunt for some cold treats. You got Lando a frozen lemonade and Oscar an ice cream sandwich—it’s a safe choice, you hadn’t necessarily thought about asking him what kind of ice cream he prefers. 

You found Oscar staring at the wall, eyes focused forward but his mind somewhere else. You tapped him gently on the shoulder, offering him a small smile when he looked at you. He tried to offer you a smile of his own but couldn’t manage to hold it for more than a couple seconds. You presented the ice cream sandwich to him and he looked at you in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe you would give it to him.

“F-for,” his voice cracks awkwardly, “For me?”

You hummed, ruffling his hair and taking a seat on the couch next to him, “No, for the King of England. Yes–for you Oscar.”

He thanked you shyly and quickly began to unwrap the packaging, munching away happily. You took a second to text Lando your location and inform him of the frozen lemonade waiting for him, and when you turned to look back at Oscar—the kid was a mess. He wasn’t even a quarter of the way through the dessert sandwich and you’re convinced he managed to spill more of it than he ingested. The ice cream was painted across the lower half of his face and dripping down his hands–you caught a drop of it with a napkin before it fell and stained his shirt.

“Jesus, Oscar!” you scolded him, “I look away for two seconds and you make a mess!”

Oscar shrugged at you, feigning innocence, but you saw the staple redness of embarrassment begin to tint his chubby cheeks. You snapped your fingers in remembrance before you moved to rifle through your purse, Oscar staring at you with wide eyes as he continued to snack away. You exclaimed in delight, showing off a pair of wet wipes you remembered to bring with you. Oscar accepted the offered wipes and you watched carefully to make sure he removed all the smudges of ice cream from his hands and face.

“Hi, lovely girl,” Lando approached you, throwing himself onto the sofa next to you. He gave you a soft kiss on the lips and temple before grabbing his now lemonade slushy and taking a look at Oscar.

“Woah, mate,” Lando teased, “Did you lose in a fight against the ice cream sandwich?”

Oscar rolled his eyes and ignored Lando as he finished cleaning up. Once he was done, you gathered all of the dirty wipes on the table to be thrown away. You and Lando both watched Oscar as he ate the rest of his snack in fear of another mess occurring—and, then you had a bright idea. Leaning forward, you took a dry napkin and tucked it into the collar of his McLaren polo, creating a makeshift bib. 

“Lando, remind me to get our son ice cream in a cup from now on!”

twitter • may 14th

instagram • landonorris • may 23rd • monte carlo ⚑

liked by, bakewithyn, charlesleclerc, fernandoalonso, and 502,113 others

landonorris: does it still count as a date night if your boy and his best friend are building legos in the next room🤨

tagged bakewithyn, oscarpiastri, logansargeant

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user "your boy" WTF DOES THAT MEAN ‼️‼️‼️

user they're building legos before the race weekend starts 🤧

user has oscar been staying with lando since last week?

➥ user i thought he was just sleeping over for one night 🧐

adamnorris does this make me a grandfather?

➥ user what the hell is happening

➥ landonorris um? surprise haha 😀

bakewithyn it's a great date night! it's comforting knowing ozzy's in the next room over

➥ bakewithyn i have separation anxiety :)

➥ landonorris me too omg this was my best idea ever

➥ user this is like a reverse 13th reason- it's like my 1st reason i'm glad to be alive

➥ user ozzy 🫠

landonorris logan and osc just went silent. chat, should i be worried?

➥ user i'll bet my life savings that one of them has a lego shoved up their nose 😬

➥ user when kids go quiet it's never good !!!!

qatar • 2023

You cried an embarrassing amount of times this weekend. Your son won his first sprint race in his Formula One career, and his father—your boyfriend—was up there on the podium with him to celebrate. It seems like you have to make another special dessert for your bakery to celebrate both of your boys, but you can worry about brainstorming ideas when you stop crying into Andrea Stella’s shoulder in the middle of the pit lane. You’re sure that your face will be posted all over Twitter in a couple of hours.

A part of you wished that Lando had won the sprint race, just as he probably wanted the same thing. But, as both of you made eye contact with each other over Oscar’s head, the Australian rambling endlessly as he hugged his trophy on your hotel room floor, both of you knew that there was no better outcome this weekend than Oscar getting a taste of victory. Lando’s win will come in due time. A P2, P3 finish on Sunday was just the proof everyone needed of McLaren’s improvement and the threat they may pose to Red Bull next year. 

são paulo • 2023

You had the Grand Prix playing on your phone as you did some prep work for the bakery. The race ended and you couldn’t help but feel happy, yet relieved for the race to be over for different reasons. Lando had a wonderful drive today, and Oscar had the opposite; you were just glad it wasn’t a DNF for him.

You had only just begun wiping down the counters when the sound of the post-race show is interrupted by the ringtone you have set for Oscar. You paused quickly, scooping your phone up to answer.

“Hi, Ozzy,” you cooed gently, “How are you feeling? Sorry about your race buddy, that was unfortunate.”

“It happens, I guess. I feel like shit, mostly. Like I let the team down.”

“No way, Oscar! You’re not letting anybody down. Your race result today wasn’t the result of your skills, it was the result of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It was a racing incident. If anybody tells you differently, let me know. I’ll rip their vocal cords out.”

Oscar’s laugh crackled through the receiver. “Yes, mum. I’ll let you know. I really want some of your chocolate chip cookies, they’re the perfect bad race remedy.”

“Well, I’m flying out in a few hours to meet you guys in Brazil so I can celebrate Lando’s—sorry, excuse me—your father’s birthday with him. I think there may be some time for me in my schedule to make some cookies with you.”

“Really? We should make some for Lando too! Wait, before you leave, I left his birthday gift—”

“—In our apartment, I remember! I already packed it in my luggage, I wouldn’t forget.”

“You’re the best, seriously.”

“Mhm, I know. Also, we should share some of these cookies with Charles too, his radio message made me cry.”

“Okay, he can have one cookie.”

“Oscar Jack,” you said dryly.

“Yes, sharing is caring or whatever. He can have like...two.”

instagram • bakewithyn • november 13th • las vegas ⚑

liked by, mclaren, landonorris, f1, oscarpiastri and 353,764 others

bakewithyn: happy birthday to lando norris. he's a pretty cool guy, a great dad, and the perfect boyfriend. love you lots, baby, and i'll love you forever xxx

tagged landonorris

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user wait is this a pregnancy announcement 😨

user this is giving engagement reveal

charlesleclerc bro. if i didn't know you guys i would think your caption was serious 😣

➥ bakewithyn get pranked LOL XD

➥ user oh i feel like i just got catfished

➥ user wait so lando didn't propose nor did he put a baby in her 😒

➥ user I WANTED A BABY NORRIS

➥ user oscar exists? he's literally their child

oscarpiastri no fr i thought i was about to learn i had a sibling otw from this post

➥ bakewithyn ozzy we would've told you???

➥ landonorris you literally bought the card for me

➥ oscarpiastri a boy can hope for a younger sibling can he not :(

➥ bakewithyn so close 😚 no you can't! hope that helps xo

➥ landonorris sorry osc, it's your mum's decision 🤷‍♂️

➥ user does this mean lando wants an actual kid

mclaren admin was terrified ngl 😅

➥ mclaren i thought you really posted an engagement and pregnancy reveal without letting me know 😭

➥ landonorris sorry admin, i'll keep you in the loop in the future

➥ user landoyn engagement soon??????

twitter • november 18th • las vegas ⚑

twitter • preseason 2024

miami • 2024

Lando had you pinned to the wall in his driver's room, with his hands tangled in your curls and his mouth devouring yours. Your moans are muffled into his lips as you grind against his thigh. You tried to multitask, struggling to pull his driver’s suit down. Lando lifted you slightly, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist and neither of you cared to pull away at the sound of your foot hitting his P1 trophy and knocking it over. One of his hands fell from your hair to grasp at the smooth brown skin of your neck, his palm acting as a warm weighted choker on your throat and you broke away from the kiss to moan. 

“Fuck, Lando—get naked,” you whined desperately, “we don’t have much time for you to tease me right now!”

Lando laughed as he moved to press kisses along your jawline and behind your ear. You felt his lips part on your skin, his breath ghosting over you causing goosebumps to rise, but it’s not his voice you hear.

“Lando, they need us for pictures—OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK,” yelped Oscar, the sound of his hand smacking over his eyes reverberating around the room.

You shrieked in surprise, pushing your boyfriend away from you as you speedily readjusted your clothes. Lando positioned himself in front of you, his back facing you allowing you a little more privacy as he speedily fixed his suit around his waist.

“Learn how to knock, kid,” Lando huffed, no shame found in his words, “You interrupted my winning celebration.”

You screamed in dismay, slapping the back of Lando’s head and Oscar began to stumble out of the room, bumping into the doorframe as he still covered his eyes.

“Yeah, knock in the future, I understand,” Oscar sounds like he’s about to cry, “I feel like I just saw my mum and dad having sex!”

instagram • bakewithyn • may 12th • mama's house ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, landonorris, and 551,012 others

bakewithyn: LOOK AT MY SON 🥺🥺 PRIDE IS NOT THE WORD IM LOOKING FOR 🗣️🗣️🔊🔊 (happy mother's day to all the beautiful mamas x)

tagged oscarpiastri

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oscarpiastri did dad get you anything 🙃

➥ user 👀👀👀

➥ landonorris well i would've if SOMEBODY told me we were celebrating this year 🤬🤬🤬🤬

➥ oscarpiastri i didn't know i *had* to tell you

➥ user wowwwww lando

➥ user shameful honestly 😕

markwebber happy milf day

➥ markwebber *mother's day sorry typo

➥ bakewithyn what the fuck ☠️☠️☠️

➥ user that was not a typo mark

➥ user sir u are not slick LMAO

➥ bakewithyn i mean...oscar wouldn't mind a step dad, his fatther didn't get me anything today :(

➥ landonorris AYO BABY PLEASE 🧎‍♂️

oscarpiastri you know what would be an even better mother's day gift? getting a puppy 🤭

➥ bakewithyn we are not getting a puppy ozzy.

➥ landonorris should've clued me in osc i might've convinced her for you

➥ oscarpiastri :[

monaco • 2024

You’re about to crash THE FUCK out. At first, it was a little half-joke. Oscar’s home race in Australia, his 1/16th home race in China, and his 3/16th home race in Italy. You originally thought his tweet about “searching for his Monegasque roots” was cute, but you didn’t expect Charles Marc Herve Perceval (Demon Spawn) Leclerc to step into your playing field.

Who the hell does he think he is? Offering to adopt your son? And, Oscar is going along with it? And, the Miami Grand Prix account making a “Certificate of Adoption?” You started to like Miami after Lando won there; and now they’ve betrayed you. Every fan jumped on the bandwagon, thinking that this was the most adorable thing to happen. Like Oscar hasn’t been your child the minute he stepped foot into the MTC in Silverstone. Like he didn’t give you a Mother’s Day present? The Monegasques have some nerve; you were close with Charles and Alex but, now they’ve encroached on your and Lando’s territory. You’re committing several murders today. 

You laughed hysterically when Oscar joined Lando and you for lunch, mentioning that Charles and Alex invited him to eat with the rest of the Leclercs at family dinner after qualifying. You agreed to let him but not without making sure Charles and Alex are qualified for the job. Lando also cornered you in the kitchen and persuaded you to allow Oscar to go; swaying you with the idea of a real date night. You never realized just how much time you guys spend with your son. When’s the last time you guys had a break from being “mum and dad?" It was an appealing offer, but you were serious about clarifying expectations to the thieving couple.

twitter • may 25th • monaco

instagram • bakewithyn • may 25th • date night ⚑

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, nicolepiastri and 236,978 others

bakewithyn: a little night off from parenting was needed x

tagged landonorris

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user okay mamiiiii

user all parents deserve to relax !!!

oscarpiastri do you even miss me ☹️

➥ user damn he goin through it

➥ charlesleclerc i literally just got him to smile and now he's crying again 😒

➥ landonorris your mum and i love you lots osc

➥ oscarpiastri :]

alexandrasaintmleux take full advantage of having no children in the house 😈😈😈

➥ charlesleclerc leo will keep him distracted for as longggg as possible 😏

➥ user lando only needs about three minutes 🥱

➥ user wow that's a really long time fr

oscarpiastri mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

➥ user mama y papa

instagram • landonorris • june 16th • daddy's home ⚑

liked by oscarpiastri, angryginge, bakewithyn and 436,812 others

landonorris: father's day done right. my child and his mother made a cake for me, family photo slide two, and my son slide three. what more can a man want.

tagged bakewithyn and oscarpiastri

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user this man never misses a chance to call himself daddy

user too fucking funny 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

bakewithyn happy father's day, daddy xxx

➥ user OHMYGOD 😖🤢🤮

➥ user on my internet⁉️⁉️⁉️

➥ landonorris even happier now x

user this new wave of parents concerns me...

oscarpiastri the cake was good wasn't it???

➥ landonorris it was perfect, seriously

➥ oscarpiastri i know you both said there's no way we'd get a puppy but hear me out i've thought of something better

➥ oscarpiastri working on giving me a younger sibling :]

➥ user YES BABY NORRIS ‼️‼️‼️

➥ landonorris @/bakewithyn ?

➥ bakewithyn ask me again in a couple of years

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