He Was INSANE For This Fr Fr

bright boy – mick schumacher.

summary: oneshot where y/n is sebastian's daughter and mick's best friend. and you and mick are in love with each other but still haven't said anything about it.

all fluff <3 this one is for @esserenorris

also i made stroll an asshole in this so sorry for that ig🤪

"and mick schumacher crosses the line securing p6 for haas"

you started to jump up and down, shouting for mick, but you stopped abruptly when the entire aston martin garage turned to look at you with judgy eyes.

yup it definitely was not the right thing to do nor the right place to be giving the fact that both aston martin were out of the points in this race. stroll finishing p17 and your dad finishing p13. you calmed down, trying to hide the big smile from your face as you removed your headphones and quietly made your way out of the garage, heading straight to mick's.

when you entered, you quickly said hello to a few friends from the haas team, all wearing big smiles. although you couldn't show it as much as you wanted (because your dad drove for another team) you had always loved haas. they were a relatively small crew and because of this everyone was close to each other, it felt like a family. and because you spent so much time with mick, you were familiar with most of the people who worked there, and they were always very friendly to you.

you spotted mick talking to his engineer in the pit lane and you waited until he was back to talk to him. his eyes lighted up when he saw you, he quickly opened up his arms and you ran to him hugging him by the neck. his strong arms wrapped around you tightly, he couldn't resist to pick you up. you both starting to laugh, all the happiness and the pride making a mess in your stomach.

words weren't enough to describe how happy you were for this boy. you two had been close friends for many years and you had been there for him at every step before he had joined formula 1. he was a brilliant driver and it was so amazing to see him succeed.

he let you down, releasing you from the hug. you were quick to speak as you knew he had somewhere to be and your dad was probably getting out of his car right at this moment. "amazing drive out there, micky" you said looking into his blue eyes, the most beautiful eyes you'd ever seen in your 20 years of life. "i'm incredibly proud of you"

he quickly brought his hands to his face, still processing the fact that he had scored points again. but most importantly, taking in your words. he dropped his hands to his side, his smile bigger than ever. he got lost in your beauty, in your presence. he knew you had sneaked out of the aston garage to be there for him, even though your dad had warned you not to. "it means the world to me, thank you y/n" you mean the world to me. that's what he wanted to say, but luckily he didn't get lost in the rush of this moment and let out some sort of love confession. he quickly hugged you again as he said goodbye, cursing the fact that he had to leave you to go with the press. god you drove him mad.

you said goodbye and watched him go as you stood there, smiling and giggling like an idiot until you remembered that you had to run back to the garage to see your dad.

he caught you entering the garage and raised an eyebrow, he too was leaving to go do the post-race interviews. you rapidly gave him a hug. "i was in the bathroom", you said you guilty eyes giving you away.

"yeah try to convince them about that", your dad reply with a chuckle. sebastian wasn't stupid, he knew his daughter and he was 100% sure were you had gone. these two will be the end of me. the truth was, he had no problem with your friendship with mick –as you well knew– but the aston martin team had talked to sebastian complaining about how bad it looked that their driver's daughter was the #1 haas fan. so he had asked you to stay low and not be so openly enthusiastic about your love for mick for a bit, until the team had calmed. but of course you hadn't listened. you and mick hadn't left each other's side for years, this time would not be any different. he couldn't resist the little smile that formed on his lips. you two shared a confidential look and he exited the garage.

you spotted stroll talking to one of the engineers and you two exchanged glances. you decided you needed to do something to clean up the little mess you did today so you approached him with a fake smile that you were hoping would look honest enough. "a shame the car is still not 100% performing. i hope we do better next week"

"thanks beautiful, yeah i hope so too", he winked at you. "i also hope schumacher doesn't get in the way again. he was driving like a mad man and the car was definitely not the same after our inconvenience in the track at the start of the race", he said and then left. god you couldn't stand that guy. mick was just doing his job and stroll was actually the one who didn't give him enough space. but you knew very well lance would never admit that he had made a mistake.

you went to the press area to see the drivers, hoping to see mick, already missing him and wanting to talk to him again. butterflies made their way into your stomach when you found him a few meters away from you, laughing at the interviewer. he was glowing today. well, he was always glowing, but today he was as bright as the sun.

"the last few races have ignited something in him", you heard gina's voice and you turned to your side, not really knowing when she had arrived. you had been to busy staring at her brother. "he's getting his confidence back."

"he is", you said with a smile. "and i know having you and cori here with him in the last two races means everything to him." family was the most important thing in the world for mick. that's one of the many things you loved about him.

"i'm sure you being here is also important to him", gina said looking at you. she–as well as pretty much everyone– could see how much you two loved each other and was rooting for you to confess your feelings. she couldn't believe how it hadn't happened yet, but she also knew that mick was a perfectionist and he was probably waiting for the perfect moment. but c'mon now these two have been breathing for each other for so long it's about time they finally get together. "you're very special to him you know."

what you didn't know was how it was possible to feel so much love for a person. you had been in love with mick schumacher ever since you made fun of his bad taste in haircuts back when you were younger. he was your best friend, your person, the one you told everything and the one who always was there for you no matter what. but the truth was that you didn't fully know if he felt the same way. you two had had years knowing each other and although he had never expressed any romantic feelings towards any other person, he also had never expressed he was in love with you either. and so that little doubt always made you think twice about telling him about your feelings. because if you were wrong and he was in fact not in love with you and the whole friendship broke, you would never ever recover. "yeah and he is special for me as well" so very special.

.

you came back back to the garage after agreeing with mick to meet here after the usual team meeting that happened after every race. you were sat and you were checking your phone when you heard footsteps. you looked up expecting to see mick. but it was not him.

it was stroll.

"hey i was expecting to see you here", he said without his normal cocky smile. you said hey back, weirded out by the fact that he for some reason wanted to see you.

"father told me you had a little love display in the haas garage. again", he said as he took a few steps closer to you. you leaned back, realizing that if he came any closer he would have you trapped against the wall. you were not afraid of lance, but you also didn't want to put on a show because at the end of the day he was the boss' son, and he was in charge.

"i quickly said congrats to mick. i will try to do it privately next time. so your father doesn't get upset again", you said practically spiting the words. it was so stupid that you were doing this, but you knew your father would appreciate you not getting into a fight. you were a vettel after all, and he knew you didn't like to take shit from anybody.

"he would like that, yes", he said getting a bit more closer to you, making your blood boil. "i would like that too"

who did he think he was cornering you like an animal? "and i would like for you to take a few steps back" you said looking at his eyes, refusing to show him any sort of fear, knowing all he wanted to do was intimidate you for the solely purpose to prove that he was able to do it.

"yeah back off mate", said that voice you were so used to. lance slowly turned his head to look at mick, still staying in the same place. you looked at mick too, his jaw clenched. great. if these two get to it my dad will kill me.

"look who it is!", said stroll, that infamous smile returning to his lips. "the mad man of the track."

"i don't see you taking the few steps back", mick said signaling with his head for lance to back off.

"it's getting late. let's go mick", you said trying to shift the focus of the conversation you stood up pushing lance a bit and grabbed your bag. mick came closer to the two of you and put his hand on your lower back. as you two starting walking away from stroll, he suddenly grabbed your wrist.

"i'm not finished talking to you", lance said, pulling you away from mick's side.

mick quickly turned, cheeks red as he was very angry. he put a finger on lance's chest, looking him straight in the eyes. "don't", he said.

lance slowly looked at the finger mick had pointing at him, and he threw it aside. "i just want to talk to her."

"let her go", mick said, losing the remaining patience he had left. mick was not a violent person, but he couldn't stand stoll touching you. specially after he knew that dickhead wanted to fuck you, like he had heard him say a while back.

"we'll talk later, lance. we have somewhere to go", you said and stroll dropped his grip on your wrist. without wasting a second you grabbed mick's hand and left the aston martin garage. you two walked quietly in silence, then realizing you were holding hands. you were about to let mick's hand go but then he gently squeezed it and his grip tightened.

you got so lost for a second in the feeling of his palm against yours, that you forgot about the whole incident that had just happened.

"i was so close to punch him i can't believe it", mick said looking at you. you let out a nervous laugh, and also did he.

"as much as i would have liked it, imagine the mess that could make", you said. you two finally reached mick's car, you dropped his hand and got inside.

"i know but if he dares to put a hand on you again i'll seriously punch him", mick said completely sure about it.

"no punching, rocky. it'll be okay. he was just being a bitch because of the whole i-can't-look-like-a-haas-fan situation"

"ugh. i can't wait for sebastian to switch team next year."

"yeah tell me about it."

.

a week passed. and there was a lot on mick's mind. but there was one that he couldn't escape from. you.

the whole incident with stroll had left mick thinking about how much he disliked stroll, but most importantly about how much he disliked the idea of a guy who liked you being near you. mick wanted the perfect occasion to confess his feelings for you. feelings he couldn't hide anymore. he was utterly mesmerized by you, and he'd be damned if he waited too long and he lost his chance with you. he'd do it soon. he was done being scared of losing his friendship with you. he needed to tell you everything.

it was the austrian gp and haas was looking stronger than ever. after magnificent qualifying yesterday, mick would be starting from p6. the race was about to begin and you were praying to every God out there that it would be a good and safe race. after 57 laps hamilton and verstappen crashed ending in a dnf for both mercedes and red bull, moving leclerc to first place, norris to second and sainz to third, mick behind him in p4. if this continued like this, this would be the best result for mick in his formula 1 career and you wanted to throw up from all the excitement. there were 9 laps to go when suddenly sainz's car started to go slower and slower until it was confirmed that he would have retire the car due to an engine failure.

you almost lost your mind as you sprinted out of the aston martin garage without a shadow of a doubt. as soon as you entered the haas garage they gave you a pair of headphones to listen to the race. you went to gina and cori and the three of you held hands as you watched the race with your heart feeling like it would jump out of your chest. mick passed the chequered flag as the three of you hugged, sharing tears, screams and joy. you went to talk to mick on the radio, waiting for güenther to congratulate mick on that p3.

"P3 MICK ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC! THIS IS THE BEST DAY WE COULD'VE HAD WE ARE VERY PROUD OF YOU. ENJOY IT" , güenther said, tears in his eyes. you took a moment to look around at the whole garage with tears in their eyes and the biggest smiles. the love everyone had for your best friend never failed to amaze you. you would certainly remember this day forever. you turned to hear what gina was saying to mick when you caught your name.

"is y/n there? oh my god tell her this one's for her as well", mick said, you thought you might die as you heard the words. gina signaled you to speak to him and you did it.

"i'm here micky. i couldn't be prouder. enjoy it. you deserve this so so much." you couldn't believe this was happening and it was unbelievable that you could even muster words. tears were falling down your cheeks.

"das ist für gina, mama, papa und für dich" (this is for gina, mom, dad and for you) "P3 BABY LET'S FUCKING GO!"

all the team went to celebrate with him, as you waited all three cars to get to their positions. he got out of the car, standing on it he threw a kiss at the sky. he got off the car and ran to his team, hugging them all. the happiness so visible in him that you wanted to start crying again. and then it all happened at once.

you locked eyes with him, and he removed his helmet looking at you like you were the most important thing in the world right now. you were a bit behind the little fence that separated the team from him, but everyone seemed to watch the two of you getting lost in each other's sight and it was like everyone took a step back, leaving you a little path to walk to him. you ran to him and as you got closer he cupped your face with both of his gloved hands and joined your lips together,  your hands going to the back of his neck. the kiss was like a hurricane, like everything in the world was spinning but you two held the other steady. it was passionate, it was a kiss that you two craved and had craved for years. you two forgot about everyone for a moment, and it was only you and him and your lips on his.

the kiss ended and his gloved hands never left your face when he said "i am absolutely in love with you. and i can't believe i waited so long to finally tell you. you're my one and only and i- i just love you so much"

your heart was definitely about to get out of you chest as you gave him a quick peck on the lips and finally said the words you too had waited too long to say "i'm crazy for you, mick schumacher, more than words can explain", you said, both of you smiling. he gave you a kiss in the forehead and then left to meet the other two drivers of the podium.

as you watched him get away reality hit you. you had kissed micky. your boy. he was also crazy about you. and thousands of people had just witnessed your first kiss with who you felt was the love of you life. oh my god my dad probably watched that.

little did you know sebastian had watched it, and couldn't be happier for the two of you. firmly believing his daughter couldn't be in better hands than mick. his talented, gentle and sweet boy. he would risk it all of the two of you and he couldn't erase the smile off his face.

most drivers approached mick to congratulate him. making you even prouder to see how everyone loved and appreciated him. the podium was very emotional, you shared tears again with pretty much everyone, and mick waved at you from up there, spraying champagne all over the crew. god he looked like a dream up there all wet in champagne, the biggest smile on his face.

"finally mate!", charles patted mick on the back as they were exiting the podium.

"yeah i feel like i'm dreaming", mick said. and he meant it. not only the podium finish clouding his mind but also the kiss you two had shared, replaying in his head over and over again. they said goodbye and as he was leaving for the haas trailer sebastian approached him. oh god. mick had a lovely relationship with the four time world champion, they had shared beautiful moments together but then it hit him that it hadn't been exactly perfect to kiss his daughter like that in front of so many people. mick opened his mouth to start speaking but he didn't have a chance as sebastian embraced him in a big hug, tears forming in vettel's eyes.

"i'm so incredibly proud of you, my boy. just like i know he is as well", seb said with a big smile on his face. "the first podium of many! let's just hope you don't kiss the face off my daughter every time you get one", he raised his eyebrows. mick's cheeks heated as he heard the words.

"yeah about that... i know it was not ideal to put on a love display like that but i couldn't help it, seb. i love her. i truly do. i've loved her for years. and i swear i will do everything in my power to keep her safe and give her all the love and respect she deserves." he said meaning every word.

"i couldn't trust anyone else more to be with y/n, you're a great young man mick. everyone in the family appreciates you deeply."

"it means a lot to me, seb." mick's respect for the man in front of him was indescribable, and he held his words close to his heart.

.

you were resting on the side of mick's car waiting for him. he agreed to see you there. you saw him walking towards you, you smiled at him, thinking of how breathtaking he was.

"hey you", he said when he finally got to the car.

"hello mr p3", you joked.

"let's get out of here fast because i promised i wouldn't let more people see us kissing today", mick said looking at your lips. you threw your head back laughing and got into the passenger seat. you two drove off the paddock, mick intertwined your hands and rubbed his thumb on your hand, feeding the butterflies in your stomach.

you and mick decided to go to a coffee shop you liked, it had a beautiful view of austria and you ordered a couple coffees. it was a small place, kind of hidden away so that was what you liked the most. it felt sort of private.

mick held your hand that was resting on the table and you looked at his beautiful blue eyes. "so how long have you been crazy about me?", mick wiggled his eyebrows and laughed.

"yeah how long have you been absolutely in love with me?", you asked him, playing the same card.

"i guess it's safe to say for as long as i've known you. you know, i think i always knew you were the one for me", he said shyly. you couldn't love him more, your heart was doing pirouettes and you felt like you could faint.

"i truly can't believe it took us that long to finally speak about this", you said. "i have to admit there was a part of me that was scared the love was not mutual."

"then you must be dumb because i honestly think i proved that i was head over heels for you on a daily basis", he shaking his head.

"oh i am the dumb one? are you sure about that? i've had a crush on you for as long as i can remember you idiot", you laughed. "i think at this point everyone knew we were in love with each other except for us."

"yeah gina pretty much confirmed that like an hour ago", mick confessed.

you drank your coffee and discussed everything about the day you both had. one that would forever remember. you came back to the hotel you were both staying in, waiting to get ready to go out later in the night to celebrate the podium with the fellow drivers. mick accompanied you to your room. you opened the door and let him in. as soon as you closed the door mick couldn't resist anymore so he grabbed your chin and gave you what it first started as a sweet kiss, you both getting familiar with your lips. but then mick's hands gripped your waist and he deepened the kiss, his tongue finding yours. your hands went to his hair. he pushed you against the wall. mick was hungry for the taste of you, and he knew just how much he had desired to have you in his arms like this, with his mouth against yours. you broke the kiss with a smile you couldn't avoid.

"i love this. i love you. but we should stop here because we need to start getting ready for the party." you said, sure that if this continued like this it would end in the two of you on the bed. with no clothes on.

"right. i should get going", mick said with a grin, fixing his hair and his shirt. he reached for the door and opened it but as he turned to say goodbye to you, you couldn't resist his red lips so you pushed the door closed and grabbed his face in your hands, joining your lips once again. fuck it. you thought. the party can wait.

insanely good

Romantic Gateway // F.D.

Summary: Felipe has a different idea of romance than his girlfriend 

Warnings: None

Keep reading

Masterlist ♡

f1 drivers

charles leclerc

mastermind

lando norris

happier

the boy of my dreams

felipe drugovich

sunset

always you

my favorite person

mick schumacher

bright boy

flowers and rain

pierre gasly

gimme, gimme, gimme

oscar piastri

blind date

football players

pedri

i've got my eye on you

i've got my eye on you, too

dreamy boy

the look of love

Omg can you please write some smut with Lando about the FIA gala??? He looks so hot in that suit and I need something about it🥵😭 Maybe after the gala ended and they’re back to their hotel or they fuck while they’re on the plane back to Monaco.

The FIA (Feral Instincts Arise) Awards | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I knew there would be requests for this the second I saw Lando on that carpet. Bon appétit 😛

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── It's the 2024 FIA Awards, and Lando and his girlfriend can't help but steal a moment of passion, unable to resist the tension built through teasing touches and glances during such a glamorous night.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── +18, mature/sexual content, established relationship, teasing, mild public intimacy, smut, descriptive language, fingering, bathroom sex, swearing.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.2k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 14, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I have nothing to say except that I am absolutely devastated that my role model and inspiration, Michèle Mouton has officially retired from her role as FIA Safety Delegate. I love her so much and will forever be grateful for the representation she provided for women in motorsport throughout the years. In other news, at least everybody looked so fucking hot last night.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

IT WAS PURE torture for her to see him up on that stage from the beginning of the evening. She’d sat in the audience, her heart swelling with pride and gratitude for being able to be by his side during this exciting stage of his life — witnessing his hard work, his wins, and his dreams becoming reality. It's more than she ever imagined.

As she watched him, she realized she wasn't just proud of his accomplishments, but thankful to be the one he comes home to, the one who gets to share these moments that will live forever in both of their memories.

Standing up to cheer for him, as Lando’s name was announced for finishing second in the Drivers’ Championship, was a natural reaction. The applause was loud, a mix of respect and so much admiration for her determined racer boy who had fought tooth and nail all season.

McLaren’s triumph in the Constructors’ Championship only added to the celebration, the team beaming as they ascended the stage to accept their award.

While the room celebrated them, all she could think about was him — her man, standing under the spotlights, looking impossibly handsome in his perfectly tailored black suit and crisp white shirt. He looked perfect, from his styled curls to his sharp jawline and sweet, nervous smile. She felt very conflicted, overwhelmed with pride and love, yet squirming with a different kind of heat every time he looked for her in the audience. The way his dimple appeared when he smiled, the casual confidence in his voice as he gave his speech, and the glint of determination in his eyes as he thanked the team for having faith in him — every bit of it was intoxicating.

Now, at the dinner table, the atmosphere has shifted.

Glasses of champagne catch the glow, sparkling like liquid gold, as conversations hum softly among the elite of the motorsport world.

Lando sits beside her, relaxed in a way only he can manage after such a long, eventful evening. His suit jacket is draped over the back of his chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms. He holds a champagne flute in one hand, the other resting lazily on her thigh beneath the table.

She can feel the warmth of his palm on her skin, his fingers flexing ever so slightly. It’s a casual touch — he’s sipping champagne, laughing at something Oscar just said — but the effect it has on her is anything but relaxed. Her heart races every time his thumb brushes against her soft skin, slow and intentional, almost like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her.

Her own glass of champagne sits untouched in front of her, her attention split between the conversation around them and the heat blooming under Lando’s hand. She tries to pay attention, nodding along while Andrea talks about some funny incident that happened in the garage during the last race of the season. But her thoughts keep drifting back to him.

She glances over at Lando, her breath catching at how effortlessly handsome he is, now that he’s more relaxed and in his element. The golden light softens the sharp lines of his face, making him look almost ethereal. But it’s the dimpled smirk that forms as he catches her staring that sends a shiver down her spine.

“Everything okay, gorgeous?” asks Lando, his voice low enough that only she can hear.

She nods, swallowing hard. “Positive. I'm just incredibly proud of you, that's all.”

His smirk widens, his thumb stroking her thigh with more purpose now. “You’ve said that already,” Lando murmurs, leaning in just enough that his breath brushes her ear. “But keep going. I like hearing it,” he adds, pressing his lips to her cheek.

She smiles, looking away, determined not to let him fluster her further.

However, Lando has other plans. His fingers trace unhurried patterns on her inner thigh, edging closer to the hem of her dress. The movement is subtle — nobody at the table would notice — but to her, it feels like her skin is burning. Her breathing gets heavier, and she shifts in her seat instinctively, her legs parting just enough under the table to grant him more access.

“My good girl,” whispers Lando, smiling against her cheek, then turning his attention back to the conversation.

Her heart skips at the quiet praise, and she shoots him a quick, warning glance, her eyes wide with panic.

Lando looks completely unbothered, taking part of the dialogue like he’s the epitome of innocence. The slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips tells a very different story, though. A secret one, that only they know about.

“Stop it,” she whispers through gritted teeth, her voice so low that it’s practically a breath.

Obviously, he doesn’t. If anything, her quiet protest seems to spur him on. The pads of his fingers creep higher, brushing dangerously close to the heat between her legs. She grips the stem of her champagne flute tightly, her knuckles white as she tries to take her first sip of alcohol of the night — at least then she'll have something to blame if anyone asks her why she got so flustered all of a sudden.

“Lando,” she warns, her voice soft but firm.

“Hm?” he hums, his expression completely neutral as he keeps his attention to Oscar, who’s recounting his Turn 1 incident from Abu Dhabi.

She bites her lip, willing herself not to squirm in her seat. She almost can not believe how shameless Lando is, then she remembers all the times he tested her patience when they were in public. At that, her free hand drops to her lap, fingers wrapping around his wrist in an attempt to still his movements. He doesn’t pull away, but he also still doesn’t stop. Instead, his thumb presses a little harder, a constant reminder of his presence.

“You’re squirming, baby,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement. “People are going to notice.”

“Then stop,” she repeats quietly, her tone sharp enough to earn a quick, curious glance from Andrea, who's sitting across from her. She ends up forcing a small smile, nodding, then turning back to Lando.

He chuckles under his breath, leaning in just slightly so his words are for her ears alone. “But we’re having so much fun,” he teases.

Her body betrays her as heat pools low in her belly, and she can’t stop herself from shifting again, her legs spreading a fraction wider. Lando takes full advantage of the movement, his fingers grazing higher until they’re just shy of where she needs him most. She glares at him, her eyes filled with need and her cheeks burning when his fingers slide easily over her lace panties, pressing harder on her warmth. As a response, her body jerks, and she barely suppresses a gasp, her nails digging into his wrist.

“I hate you,” she mutters under her breath, her voice shaky.

His grin returns, and he tilts his head, finally looking at her again. His gaze is dark, heated, and he looks entirely pleased with himself. “No, you don’t,” says Lando, so sure of himself.

It’s a miracle she doesn’t combust on the spot.

Because he's right — she doesn't hate him, she hates the fact that they're in public and she's incredibly turned on, but there's nothing she can do about it.

Finally, she can breathe normally when he withdraws his hand from between her legs, just as casually as he’d started. Her body is still buzzing with the lingering traces of his touch as she places her hand lightly on Lando’s shoulder. Slowly, she rises from her seat, her fingers squeezing just enough to send him a silent message only he’d understand.

At that, Lando’s heart stutters for a beat, his mouth suddenly dry as he watches her glide gracefully toward the bathrooms. The way her dress hugs her curves doesn’t help the growing situation in his pants — it’s like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him, a small punishment for what just happened between them. He tries to act like he's not affected, emptying his glass of champagne while his eyes turn back to the table, but his focus is scattered.

His hand still tingles from touching her under the table, and now he’s left to deal with the knowledge that his teasing had gotten to her.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Minutes tick by, though they feel like an eternity.

Lando finds himself forcing a laugh at something Oscar says, remembering how impossibly talkative his teammate gets when he has a few drinks on board. He shifts in his seat, trying to mask his growing anticipation, but she’s all he can think about. His fingers drum against his empty glass, the weight of the moment making it almost impossible to sit still.

Then, his phone buzzes inside his pocket, her name lighting up the screen.

He doesn’t need to answer to know it’s just a diversion, and she’s not waiting for a conversation, either — she’s just giving him an out.

Lando clears his throat, “Sorry, I have to take this,” he says, giving the table an apologetic smile, as he pushes back his chair and making his way out of the dining area with purpose.

His heart pounds in his chest as he walks toward the bathroom, careful not to seem too rushed, but acutely aware of the tension building inside his body with each step he takes.

The hallway leading to the bathrooms is quieter, lined with soft, ambient lighting and artwork that screams understated luxury. He takes a turn, his steps slowing as he spots her standing in front of the mirror inside the women's restroom. The space itself is elegant, all marble countertops and gold fixtures, with sleek stalls and huge mirrors.

She’s touching up her lipstick, her purse resting next to her, the subtle curve of her smile betraying the fact that she knows he’s behind her. Lando approaches slowly, his footsteps soft against the polished tile. When he’s close enough, his hands settle on her waist, his touch firm yet familiar as he pulls her closer.

“There you are,” he says, his voice low and full of heat. “Worried about your makeup when it’s just going to smudge off you anyway?”

Her smile turns into a smirk as she meets his gaze in the mirror. “God, you’re the worst,” she teases, her tone light but laced with something more intimate.

Lando chuckles while she turns in his arms. Her hands slide up his chest, her touch lingering as she looks up at him, her eyes dark with intent.

“Are you sure it can’t wait until we get back to the hotel?” asks Lando, even though he already knows the answer, because he knows the look she has painted all over her face very well.

Her lips brush against his cheek in a warm, lingering kiss before her breath tickles his ear. “Baby, that's hours away.”

She intertwines her fingers with his, and leads him to one of the stalls at the end of the bathroom. The space is just as luxurious as the rest of the venue — tall wooden doors that reach from ceiling to floor, polished brass locks, and a sense of privacy that makes it feel more like a secluded room than a bathroom stall. As soon as they step inside, the door locks with a soft click, and every ounce of restraint disappears.

Lando’s lips are on hers instantly, hot and demanding, his hands already traveling to the hem of her dress. There’s no time to waste, with all those people back at the table who could realize at any moment that it is no coincidence that they are both missing at the same time.

His hands slide up her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher until he reaches the thin band of her panties. His fingers slip beneath the lace, tugging them down in one swift motion before his hand returns, sliding between her legs and finding her completely soaked.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his forehead resting against hers as his fingers dip into her heat. “All this from a bit of touching?”

Her breath comes out in a shaky laugh as she clutches his shirt. “No,” she whispers, “All this from watching you on that stage, sitting next to you the entire night, seeing how people were cheering for you — and then from a bit of touching.”

A cocky smirk tugs at Lando’s lips. “That so?” he asks, pressing a finger into her, his pace measured as he stretches her slowly.

She gasps, her head falling back against the door, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. A second finger joins the first, curling inside her as his thumb circles her clit, making her see stars.

Her hands, trembling with anticipation, move to his belt, fumbling for a moment before she pushes his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock. Her touch is soft at first, her fingers wrapping around him and stroking slowly, making his jaw clench.

She looks up at him, her lips curving into a teasing smile as she echoes his earlier words. “All this from touching me under the table?”

“Shut up,” he growls, grabbing her thigh and hitching it around his hip. His cock presses against her entrance, teasing her as he slides the tip through her slick folds.

“You shut up, and fuck me already,” she says, her voice thick with desire.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one swift thrust, he buries himself inside her, both of them gasping at the full sensation. The stretch is so sweet and perfect, and he pauses for just a moment, letting her adjust before pulling back and thrusting again, harder this time. Her back presses against the door, the cool wood contrasting with the heat of his body as he sets a relentless pace, in and out of her tight pussy. His hands grip her thighs, spreading her wider for him as he drives into her, each movement hungrier than the previous.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Lando groans, his lips brushing against her ear. “Perfectly thight around me, baby. Always so sweet and eager, aren’t you?”

She clings to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he angles his hips, hitting a spot that has her biting back a cry. “Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaky and full of need, while trying to mimic his rapid movements.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, his voice rough as his fingers dig into her hips. “Let them hear you, baby. Let everybody know how well you take my cock.”

Her head falls on his shoulder as he thrusts deeper, harder, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside her. The tension coils tighter and tighter in her belly, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge.

“Lando, fuck,” she moans wetly into his shoulder, feeling her pussy clenching around his length. “Shit, baby. Yes, don’t stop.”

As he buries himself so deep inside her, Lando realizes that's what he wants to do for the rest of the evening — the rest of his life, as a matter of fact. His lips part as he feels her walls twitching around him, making him — if that's even possible — even harder for her. His breaths come out in spasms, letting out a small cry of pleasure as his chest crashes against hers violently.

Sensing that she’s so close, Lando’s hand ends up slipping between their bodies to rub her clit in time with his thrusts. “Come on, baby. Let me feel you.”

“Are you—oh, fuck,” she tries to speak, but all her thoughts are focused on how good he makes her feel.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando assures her, “Right behind you, love.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before she shatters around him, her walls clenching hard as her orgasm washes over her. Her moans are muffled against his neck as he continues to fuck her through her release, chasing his own high. His movements grow erratic, sloppier, his grip on her tightening as he finally lets go, spilling into her with a low, guttural moan.

For a moment, they can’t hear anything else except the soft whir of ventilation and their labored breathing. Their bodies stay pressed tightly together as the echoes of their pleasure lingers in the small space.

Her chest heaves against his as she exhales shakily, her lips brushing his neck, then up his jaw in a silent thank you.

Lando smiles, slowly pulling out of her, his cock still hard and sensitive from his release. She shudders at the sudden emptiness, but before she can speak, his hand slips between her thighs again. His fingers slide inside, pushing some of his cum and their mingled release back into her.

“Lando,” she gasps, her body clenching instinctively around his fingers.

His breath falls hot against her skin. “Gotta make sure you feel it all night.”

Her cheeks flush at his words, and she bites her lip, torn between glaring at him and melting into his touch. He strokes her lazily, savoring the way her body responds to him even now.

“Insane behavior, Norris,” she exhales sharply, finally looking up at him.

“My brand,” he smirks back at her. “But what about you, hm?” he asks, his tone soft, but teasing as his eyes rake over her wrecked expression. “Going back knowing you’re filled up so good?”

She rolls her eyes at him, but the heat in her gaze betrays her. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You love it,” he quips, fixing a strand of her hair and then kissing her deeply one last time.

She smiles against his lips, brushing her thumb over his mouth to wipe away the faint smudge of her lipstick. Then, leaning up, she presses a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “Don’t take too long, champ.”

With that, she exits the stall, glancing once in the mirror to make sure she looks composed, and collecting her purse before heading back to the table.

When she returns to her seat, the conversation flows just as before, no one paying much attention to her absence beyond a polite glance. Her heart pounds in her chest, the sensation of being so intimately connected to Lando still fresh in her mind as she settles into her chair. She picks up her glass of champagne, finishing it in one go, her hands steady despite the warmth still coursing through her body — and the wetness between her legs.

A few minutes later, Lando comes back, his phone pressed to his ear as he pretends to be mid-conversation. His expression is casual, his voice light as he murmurs something unintelligible before slipping his phone back into his pocket and taking his seat.

But as soon as he sits down, Oscar’s eyes narrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Lando catches the look, frowning slightly as he tilts his head. “What?” he asks silently, his expression confused.

Oscar doesn’t answer, instead he points directly at Lando’s bowtie, which is noticeably crooked.

Lando’s eyes widen as he glances down, and straightens it as casually as he can, his cheeks turning faintly pink.

“It's windy outside,” Lando mutters under his breath, low enough that only Oscar can hear.

His teammate just grins knowingly, leaning back in his chair. “Whatever you say, mate.”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

for the request on X

"i don't know how much you like each other but kimi and myself, we get along."

My roman empire: seb calling brocedes out on their bullshit drama. Seb, you little menace.

shut up and put your money where your mouth is // oscar piastri

summary: the reserve drivers have a little mischief pool going, keeping themselves occupied on weekends where they have nothing better to do. until nico hulkenberg pushes y/n and oscar a little too far and makes them confront how they feel about each other

pairing: oscar piastri x female alfa romeo! reader

warnings: alcohol is involved, drinking games are played (spin the bottle, seven minutes in heaven) and a massive prank war is waged on every driver in the paddock, implied smut scene at the end, but no smut is written. sexual innuendos because jack doohan is a little shit, y/n is too cool for oscar (she's also really mean to fernando but in a funny way . . . sorry nando) mentions of a crash ( everybody was fine, y/n is just still feeling the emotional effects )

author's note: so for a while now i've been wanting to make a story or a fic that focuses on the reserve drivers because i feel like they all sort of get forgotten, so this fic is dedicated to the reserves and those who hide behind the scenes : )

"alright, jamie and logan got the extra dye from alex, liam and dennis are going to distract the old man." y/n started eagerly, making grabby hands towards logan sargeant, who gave her a strange look before passing over the bottle of red hair dye. "oscar, do you and jack have a way of getting into his driver's room?"

the reserve drivers were standing outside the alpine hospitality building, mischeif in their eyes as a plan started brewing. the reserve and development drivers were only performatively employed through driver's academies. they had no real reason to be there on race weekends. very rarely were they actually needed.

it was natural for them to get bored, expected, even. because who wanted to stand around and look at data all day when it didn't even affect them? who wanted to take a ten hour flight to another continent just to sit around and do nothing all race weekend except look good for the team?

and that's when nico hulkenberg had made his proposal. every season, it was a new game. always disruptive to the regular drivers, always chaotic and more than once it got guenther steiner swearing at the lot of them. two teams, a season full of dares and challenges.

and may the best pranksters win.

jack doohan nodded. "it was shockingly easy to get his keys. all you've gotta do is find a way to swap out his shampoo for the dye. and then when he goes to take a shower after free practice," jack clapped his hands together. "his hair will be red before the old codger knows what hit him."

their team was the young guns, the under twenty-fives. there were more of them than anybody else, but they were competing against guys who had been there way longer: nico hulkenberg, antonio giovinazzi, robert schwartzman, nyck de vries, stoffel vandoorne and pietro fittipaldi

"i'll come inside with you. since the contract thing started, people in alpine hospitality have been giving me a wide berth." oscar piastri shrugged his shoulders, hands in the front pockets of his black chinos, making his alpine polo ride up, exposing a sliver of his toned stomach.

y/n sucked in a barely audible breath, hoping that nobody around noticed.

she wasn't sure when she developed a crush on the aussie f2 champion, but she knew it wouldn't lead her anywhere good. never mix business and pleasure, so she had always been told.

no, it was better to leave oscar to his own devices. to pretend she felt nothing towards him.

"you don't have to." she said gently, pulling a denim jacket over her alfa romeo polo. with any luck, she was little-known enough that the hospitality staff wouldn't recognize her and just let her pass through.

worst comes to worst, she could always pretend she was coming to say hi to abbi pulling, who had recently signed to the alpine young driver's programme.

"you don't even know where his driver's room is."

she hated it when oscar was right. "fine." she pouted, hooking her fingers in her belt loops. "but let's make it quick, before daddy szafnauer gets the wrong idea."

jack snorted, and logan shook his head, wishing he could leave the conversation.

"excuse me, what?" the american frowned, raising his eyebrows. "there's something wrong with you."

"what?" she laughed, sipping from her plastic starbucks cup.

god, oscar would never tire of that sound, the visual of y/n throwing her head back, smile splitting her features as her hair spilled down her back.

"he's like, the fourth most fuckable team principal. don't even get me started on daddy toto."

"there's a scale?" jack looked scandalized. "i am but a mere child, too innocent for this!"

oscar snorted. "according to the country of australia, you're street legal, doohan."

"here's the scale: toto, jost, andreas, otmar, christian, mattia, mike, guenther, fred, franz. i'd fuck ted kravitz, too. don't underestimate daddy kravitz."

somehow, at the revelation that y/n wanted to fuck toto wolff, oscar's ego ached. if her type was six foot five austrian men old enough to be her father twice over, what chance did he have?

'"i know way too much about you." logan shook his head, beginning to walk backwards. "good luck fucking fernando over- bad word choice given that last conversation, let me know how it goes."'

y/n laughed, playfully punching oscar in the arm. "come on, alpine's most wanted. i've got an old man's day to ruin and a self-centered german to upstage."

y/n tossed the bottle in the air, catching it with a grin as she brushed past oscar and headed into the hospitality suite.

oscar watched her go with wide, bright eyes, attempting to casually hide the boner forming in his khaki's as his eyes zeroed in on the alfa romeo driver's sashaying backside, made extra prominent by her tight black jeans.

"you coming, problem child?" she shouted, a bright smile on her face as she stuck her head out of the glass door.

"coming in just a second!"

"i'm sure he's coming in more ways than one." jack snorted, patting oscar on the shoulder. "you are so whipped, mate. and you aren't even getting good sex out of it. that's a crime, oscar!"""i'm sure he's coming in more ways than one." jack snorted, patting oscar on the shoulder. "you are so whipped, mate. and you aren't even getting good sex out of it. that's a crime, oscar!"

"fuck off!" oscar whined, pushing jack's hands away as he sauntered up the hospitality steps. "i'm doing it for my commitment to the bit."

he wished that he had sounded like he believed it, but everybody knew that he didn't.

everybody knew that he did it because he was head over heels for y/n y/l/n.

he ran to catch up to her, directing the testing driver in the direction of fernando alonso's diver's room. fernando was never the original target of that prix weekend's scheme. in fact, y/n was never supposed to be the person who planned it. this was supposed to be frederik vesti's weekend to plan and execute the scheme.

but after an unfortunate incident in fp1 resulted in fernando cutting y/n off and sending her into the wall, cutting her coveted rookie driving session short, a session she had fought freddie vasseur tooth and nail to steal away from theo pourchaire, plans had changed and she'd swapped weekends with fred.

drawing the keys out of her jacket pocket and offloading her frappucino on the australian standing next to her, she opened the unmarked door to fernando's room, rolling her eyes at the massive spanish flag hanging on the wall.

"where's the fucker's shampoo? he doesn't get to ruin my one young driver session and get away with it." she started pacing, hands reaching to the back of her head to tap on the brim of the backwards baseball cap she was wearing. "changing his hair color is fucking mercy compared to what i should be doing to him."

"shower's are that way." oscar nodded, cocking his head towards a royal blue hallway. "how many points do you think this is going to get us with the hulk? you have to admit, that stunt he pulled on crofty and brundle last week was kind of legendary."

y/n rolled her eyes, heading towards fernando's shower and wishing she had brought gloves. seriously, what do old men get up to when they shower? she didn't want to find out. she could get a goddamn staph infection just from stepping foot in the damn thing.

"all nico did was fuck with the microphones. they fixed it in less than half an hour. all that happened was making sure that fp1 was narrated by darth vader." she shook her head, wincing as she reached into fernando's shower, wishing she could have gotten somebody else to do it. "nico shouldn't even be doing the scoring if he's participating. why can't kubica do it? he's a neutral party."

but there wasn't enough money in the world to pay one of the other reserves to stand in fernando alonso's shower.

she uncapped the bottle of men's head and shoulders, overturning it in the bathroom sink as she turned on the faucet, watching the thick, cream colored liquid bubble and fizz as it went down the drain.

"robert made it damn clear that he wants nothing to do with this." oscar laughed, trying to decipher the label on the side of the starbucks cup, curious to see what sweet concoction was in the cup, especially knowing that she didn't like to drink coffee.

"understandable. i think robert's kind of done with everybody's bullshit. mostly theo's, though. frankly, so am i. truth be told, i think vasseur wants me gone." she frowned, twisting open the bottle of red dye that logan had given her and upending it over the plastic bottle. "i don't think that he's a fan of the fact that i'm never going to drive competitively."

"that's a bullshit reason for him to fire you."

"that's what i said!" y/n complained, throwing her hands in the air as she waited for the thick red dye to drain. she wasn't even sure if her plan was going to work: fernando's hair was dark, and it was arguable that the color might not even show unless the spaniard bleached it first. "i've never wanted to drive competitively, but after what happened in magny-cours, i'll never be able to compete again."

she had never wanted the fame, the glory, the champagne and the trophies. all she'd ever wanted to do was drive. she'd had a mediocrely successful season with the w series in 2019, followed up by half a season in formula three before a three-car crash had broken four bones in her foot.

she could still drive, and she loved her job working in testing and development, but she could tell that frederic vasseur was tiring of prepping and training a driver that was never going to make it to f1. a driver that would never compete in anything ever again. the crash had stolen all of her self-confidence, and there was nothing she could do other than pack all of her dignity in a box and walk out of the prema garage, terrified to ever race again, for fear of another incident occurring. her partnership with the ferrari driver's academy had fallen through a year later, and she counted her blessings every day that alfa romeo had rescued her from the wreckage of what she had seen her life becoming.

shaking her head as she realized that the dye bottle was empty, she rinsed it out before stowing the evidence in her jacket pocket and putting the cap back on the shampoo bottle before thrusting it back into fernando's shower.

"come on, piastri." she grinned, taking her drink back from the academy driver. "let's get out of here. all we can do now is wait for the old man to have a shower, and then nico is going to have to give in and declare us the winners."

they got their answer three hours later.

y/n was walking through the paddock with jamie chadwick and jessica hawkins, twirling her paddock pass between her fingers as she made small talk with the girls she considered to be her best friends.

"so, y/n . . . " jess started, the pom pom on her signature beanie hat bouncing as the brit walked. "are you finally going to tell oscar?"

"nope." she answered. too fast, always too fast when it came to feelings. too quick to catch them, even quicker to deny them. especially when they concerned the boy at the center of every f1 news story in the last two weeks, ever since he had announced he would not be signing with alpine, but in fact would be ousting daniel ricciardo from mclaren. "never. no feelings whatsoever."

"aw, jess, look at her face go all red." jamie laughed, nudging y/n's side. "she's definitley in love with piastri."

"um, go fuck yourselves. both of you." she laughed, trying to hide how flustered she was. she had been waiting all day for fernando to come running out of hospitality, cussing her out in spanish at the top of his lungs. "the way my life is going, i might not even be around the paddock next year. i've actually started looking into testing for formula e, maybe i can become a reserve driver or something there. mclaren will need people."

"vasseur finally sick of seeing your face in his garage?" jess replied sadly. "i'm sorry, love. freddie just has a stick up his ass and someone needs to yank it out. with force."

the girls laughed, arms around shoulder's as they kept walking down the paddock. y/n froze, reaching for jess and jamie's arms, trying to get them to slow down before they walked past the alpine suite. jack and oscar were sitting on the patio with liam and dennis, waiting to see the fruits of their labour.

"who did this?! which pendejo is responsible!?"

"jesus fucking christ." jess groaned. "please tell me that you didn't."

on y/n's other side, jamie extended her hand for a low high five. "so that's what the dye was for." she laughed as the front door to alpine hospitality swung open, a furious fernando alonso standing on the front steps.

his hair was still soaking wet, but it was clear to everybody in a five mile radius that his hair was now a very vivid cherry red. the pure look of rage on the spaniard's face should have been enough to send a shockwave of terror through her body.

instead, it just made her feel alive.

at the patio table, the four boys had collapsed in laughter. jack had his head buried in his hands while liam had his phone out to videotape the entire encounter.

"did you cabrons do this?" fernando roared. "as if what you've done to the sanctity of this team wasn't enough!"

"oscar, run!" she could hear dennis hauger shout through his fit of laughter.

oscar stayed put, laughing to himself as he looked over at y/n.

and when he winked at her, she thought her legs would buckle, the butterflies spreading through her stomach so rapidly that she thought she might be sick.

she had been past the point of denying her feelings to herself a long long time ago, and now the aussie had a permanent place in her dreams, in both horny and wholesome ways. her fingers had become quite acquainted with the motions they robotically performed whenever oscar piastri appeared in her late-night fantasies.

"oi fernando!" she shouted, throwing her middle finger up in the air, ignoring all the patrons and crew members who were gawking at the alpine driver. "that's for sending me into the barriers, you old cunt!"

when fernando turned back to her, jessica grabbed her hand, and in a fit of laughter the three girls took off down the paddock to the aston martin garage.

nico hulkenberg had decided to award ten points for that stunt.

he had given himself eight points for the darth vader microphone trick.

the war would continue for weeks upon weeks, only stopping for the summer break. jessica and y/n had teamed up with liam to cover lawrence stroll's desk in plastic wrap, rendering it unusable and relishing in watching the multi-millionaire throw a fit when he couldn't figure out how to get the plastic wrap off his ikea desk. ( worth eight points. )

robert schwartzman and antonio giovinazzi had countered that by gluing clown wigs to the headphones used by the ferrari pit wall. to this day, mattia still didn't know who was responsible. ( worth five points. ferrari were already enough of a joke as is. )

and suddenly they were in sao paolo, and the season was almost over. begrudgingly, hulkenberg had relented and crowned the younger group the winners.

y/n had hefted the large lego trophy with a proud look on her face, standing in the center of oscar piastri's king-sized hotel bed while the other reserve drivers clapped for her from the floor.

they had gathered together for one last hurrah, a night without pranks or fighting or superiority complexes. a night to celebrate: logan, nyck, oscar and nico were all being promoted.

and y/n had news of her own that she planned to announce after the season ended in abu dhabi: she would be leaving f1 to go to formula e and act as the reserve and development driver for avalanche andretti now that she knew for certain that vasseur would not be renewing her alfa contract for another year.

jamie would be leaving for indy nxt, and liam for japanese super formula. it was truly their last night all together, their last night of things being the way that they used to be.

"i think we need to end this season properly." pietro insisted, reaching for the bottle of ferrari trento that was in the middle of the circle where they were all sitting. "it's our last season together, so forgive me for growing attached to you motherfuckers."

with news of nico returning to grid with his new place at haas, he had been quick to hand the reins of the prank war to his young apprentice. pietro fittipaldi intended to take his job very seriously, and was already dividing the teams for the 2023 season.

"psst, i'll still be around." y/n said, hopping down from the bed. "someone's gotta keep piastri in check. and who else is going to remind you all just how fuckable your bosses are."

"ugh, never say those words again, i beg you!" antonio begged. "if i ever hear you talk about 'daddy mattia' again, i swear i will put a laxative in your drink, just like i did to steiner."

the laxative stunt had won giovinazzi eight points, but at what cost? guenther had been pissed off for the rest of the weekend, and there had been a smell lingering around the haas motorhome despite f1's best efforts at cleaning it up.

y/n just laughed, holding out her plastic solo cup. "hit me, fittipaldi. i want as much champagne as can fit in this glass."

pietro shook his head, but abided the testing driver's request, filling the solo cup up to the line.

"what do you say that we make this night a little more interesting?" jack doohan proposed, looking over at oscar and y/n out of the corner of his eye.

the two young adults were sitting directly next to each other, their knees touching through their jeans. and then jack suddenly had the best worst idea ever.

he turned to liam, lowering his voice and whispering something into the kiwi's ear before they both burst out into sly grins.

"oi, fitti, how much champagne is left in that bottle?"

pietro frowned, looking at the green glass bottle in his hands. "like, a third. why?"

"just drink it so we can use the bottle." liam suggested, offering up his own solo cup. "pour the rest of it in here."

"nope." robert schwartzman cut in. "liam, i refuse to deal with your drunk ass again. that can be somebody else's problem today."

as pietro passed off the bottle, nico met liam's shit eating grin. still chuckling to himself, the red bull junior nodded in the direction of oscar and y/n, who were signing the nineties song blasting from pietro's phone in a very tipsy, our of key way. but somehow, they were perfectly in tune with each other, even if their rendition of 'hot in herre' didn't match up with one nelly was singing on the other end of the phone speaker.

nico's eyes widened as he watched jack set up the bottle in the middle of the circle.

they were going to play spin the bottle, but with the number of men outweighing the number of women, it was a set up for chaos. but even more than that, it was supposed to be a way to get two very specific lovesick idiots to finally admit how they felt about each other.

"who's ready for spin the bottle?!" liam shouted, being met with cheers from some of the other guys. guys who just wanted to see something really stupid that they could use as blackmail material.

but nobody missed how oscar and y/n instinctually moved away from each other as pietro shut the music off, a dusting pink on their cheeks as y/n moved to put jamie in between her and oscar.

"aren't we a little old for this?" stoffel vandoorne sighed. "we are grown ass adults."

liam shrugged. "you don't have to play if you don't want to."

"and let you jackasses have all the fun?"

"i say trophy bearer over there goes first." jack proposed, pointing at y/n.

nobody missed the way that her eyes flicked to oscar, nerves settling in her stomach. it was fine, she told herself. there was no way that the bottle would land on oscar. and next year, she'd be in a different paddock and her heart could cool down from all the ways that the aussie used to make it race.

taking a deep breath, she leaned forward to spin the empty trento bottle, nails scraping against the label. she closed her eyes, sitting back on her heels and crossing her fingers behind her back that god would be on her side.

hoping and praying that it wouldn't land on oscar.

and because her eyes were still closed, she didn't have a chance to watch jack nudge his foot into the circle, stilling the bottle's movements so that it landed on oscar piastri.

oscar's face flushed pink as he leaned back against the bed. next to him, liam and jack cheered, as did nico from the other side of the circle.

"oscar and y/n!" the german cheered. "now where's the closet? we're playing full seven minutes in heaven, out here we'll set the timer. you kids have fun." nico winked

trying not to make eye contact with each other, oscar and y/n got to their feet, slowly walking over to the closet like they had been sentenced to the gallows.

"ladies first." oscar coughed out, sliding the mirrored door open and allowing y/n to slip inside the confined space. the future mclaren driver followed her inside.

they stood less than two feet apart, breaths heavy.

"we don't have to do this if you don't want to." oscar said quietly. "nico is a jackass. we can just stand here and talk for seven minutes."

"oscar," she cut him off. "i need to tell you something." the time for being a coward was over. she wasn't going to be here next year. if oscar didn't feel the same, at least she wouldn't have to deal with seeing his stupid, pretty face every day. "i'm not coming back next year. vasseur told me that management is changing, and that the new guy isn't likely to keep me around if i'm never going to drive competitively again. i'm going to andretti, oscar. i'm going to be a formula e reserve in 2023."

"what? what do you mean you went to andretti?" oscar's voice was faint as he stared at her, his eyes slowly moving from her plump, pink lips, down to her tiny black garage top, the lace of her bralette peeking through the deep-cut collar, her cleavage on perfect display.

if he was ever going to do something with his feelings, now would be the time.

but y/n didn't even give him the chance, pressing up on her toes to smash her lips to oscar's, his hands flying to her waist. it was a searing kiss, all teeth and tongue as oscar pushed her back against the wall.

sometimes, a kiss could say more than words.

she moaned as oscar's hands squeezed her thighs through her army green flare pants, the aussie taking that moment to gently slip his tongue in between her lips. her fingers carded at his hair, gently pulling a small handful, eliciting a growl from the driver's throat before he changed his area of focus, hungrily kissing her neck.

y/n gasped at the feeling, a sensation made double as oscar's cold hands touched her skin, teasing the bottom of her shirt, running over her toned stomach.

"oscar." she whined, feeling a familiar ache in between her thighs. in the back her mind, she wondered if they were nearing the end of their seven minutes.

or if nico had even bothered to count.

they got their answer when a harsh knock on the closet door startled oscar so much that he tripped on his own feet, falling to the carpeted floor.

"time's up, kiddos!" stoffel shouted from the other side. "make yourselves decent and then get your asses back out here."

getting decent would be difficult: her hair was a mess, a hickey already forming on the side of her neck, and there was definitely a bulge in oscar's jeans that wasn't there when the duo entered the closet.

"fuck." she mumbled, resting her head against the wall. "what do we do?"

"it's my room." oscar reminded. "i can just kick them out, and we can finish what we started."

"good plan." y/n agreed, throwing the closet door open.

the pair stumbled out, and oscar found himself tugging the tails of his button up shirt over his crotch, hoping that nobody could tell how massively turned on he was.

"everybody out!" he shouted. "this night has been incredible, but i'm very tired and have things to do in the morning." he lied blatantly, dragging dennis and jack to their feet.

logan gave him a very confused look. "the fuck? tomorrow is race day? they don't need any of us."

"logan." jamie said gently "read the room."

it took the american a minute as the rest of the reserve drivers groaned, abandoning their night of champagne and debauchery. or at least, relocating it from oscar's room. but when the pieces clicked in his mind, his eyes went wide. "what the fuck? you're kicking us out so you can fuck, aren't you?"

"ew!" robert shouted. "god, you guys are terrible!"

jack and liam just winked at each other as they slipped into the hallway, thankful that their plan had worked, and that the two would finally stop being idiots around each other.

"yes, now get the fuck out unless you want to watch." y/n concluded, kicking theo pourchaire in the back to try and get him to stand up.

"wait, live porn is an option? i'll hide in the closet, i swear you won't even know that i'm there!" pietro shouted, half joking and half not as oscar pushed him through the doorframe.

"out!" oscar shouted again, holding the door open as all of the drivers walked out in single file.

"call us in the morning and tell us all about it, love." jessica winked at y/n as she and jamie followed stoffel out.

"oh of course." y/n agreed. "see you all in the morning. or not!" she shouted down the hallway before oscar closed and locked the door.

they stood toe to toe, soft smiles on their faces.

"hi, lover." she said softly, eyes on his lips.

"hi." he said, just as soft as he pressed his lips to hers. "no, where were we?"

"well, i think you were about to do this." she hummed, pulling her shirt over her head and dropping it to the ground.

oscar's eyes darkened at the sight. the lacy black bralette was even better now that he could see all of it, the halter strap sweeping up around the back of neck. as she spun around, he could see the thin strap draping low down on her back.

"god, you're beautiful." he rasped.

she wasn't prepared for how deep his voice was going to get, but it thrilled her to no end, knowing that she'd had that effect on oscar this entire time.

"you know what makes it even better?" she lowered her voice, pretending to be distracted as she started to undo the buttons on oscar's shirt. "i'm wearing a matching thong."

"bed, now." oscar insisted, sweeping her off her feet.

it was going to be a looong night.

Men use “I’m just a man” to cheat on their wives. Odysseus uses “I’m just a man” to kill, slay and torture people to get back to HIS wife. They are not the same.