Oscar Via @/diddlysquat.farmshop On Instagram

youtube playlist: comfort f1 videos 🏎️💨

featuring: charles leclerc, lando norris, carlos sainz, oscar piastri, alex albon, max verstappen, daniel ricciardo, lance stroll, george russell and many more

disclaimer: these are MY comfort videos, so there will be bias towards some drivers and not others, enjoy :)

AYRTON SENNA x SHUT UP AND DRIVE

yes I did💜💙

Fic Rec List - Lando/Oscar (Part 2)

if your fic is on this list and you don’t want it to be, please let me know and we will remove it immediately, no questions asked. we have contacted most of the authors on this list, but sometimes people fall through the gaps - just pop us a message🤍

have a pairing you want us to do next? please read the faqs and then head to the inbox.

don’t forget to give the authors featured on this list some love in the form of kudos, bookmarks, and comments!

you can find part 1 here

nsfw: fly the ocean (in a silver plane) by @settsplitt | E | 2.6k Lando and Oscar are fighter jet pilots who share a room on base. Oscar doesn’t seem to think much about the risk of what they do, but it consumes Lando. This is an excellent character study and builds such a big world out of very brief moments. “Hot” and “existential worry” hold hands in a circle around this fic.

He’s practically fucking useless in the briefs and debriefs. He just feels his brain slipping away, to the sky and the seas and angels 10. He knows other people are noticing, but honestly, if they want him to be normal they should fucking put him back with Oscar. None of it matters, anyway, because Lando never has any control.

nsfw: Keep Talking by @wanderingblindly | E | 2.7k This is such a beautifully written fic! The trust and comfort here is really moving - it's a soft, syrupy sort of story, that unfolds beautifully. Love it!

With practiced hands, he slides his fingers into Lando’s curls and scratches lightly at his scalp. It shoots like lightning down Lando’s neck, ringing in his ears. 

no proof, not much (but you saw enough) by @ipleadbritney | T | 3.5k Soulmates. Lando and Oscar are pulled aside by the FIA, suspected of an illegal soulbond. What I liked about it: The character voices in this story are absolutely spot on. It's Oscar's point of view and his anxiety about the situation underlying his calm demeanor is a delicate balance this author depicts beautifully.

“Yeah?” Oscar wonders which version of Lando he'll get. Will it be the one who's hyper focused on every tiny detail, including the curls of his hair? Will it be the one who's living proof why some kids deserve to be leashed? Or will it be the Lando who flirts as much as he breathes, one step away from launching his OnlyFans account?

nsfw: Reasons Why Lando Norris Might Be A Werewolf by @fenesacha | E | 3.9k Oscar, a werewolf, starts to notice small things about his teammate that may mean Lando is a werewolf too. (He's not.) What I like it: This fic is funny and breezy with great dialogue and an Oscar perfectly happy to shift gears and take it in stride when he realises Lando isn't a werewolf, but he is something else Oscar hadn't expected.

“Your dick comes off?” Oscar blurts out before he can stop himself. Lando stares at him like he’s stupid, which makes a change. “I don’t have a dick, Oscar. It’s a packer.” Right. Oscar’s not entirely sure what a packer is, but he’s got the gist of it all. “No dick. Okay. That’s cool.” “Is it?” “Yeah, mate.” Oscar’s not a bigot, he’s just having to mentally correct every fantasy he’s had for the past God-knows-how-many years. “You’re trans, then?” “Yeah, but it’s not common knowledge, so don’t go telling all your friends.” Lando turns his head so that he’s looking at Oscar, then frowns. “Wait, so you’re not trans?” “Uh, no?” “Huh, thought you were. You give off those vibes.”

worth the trouble (it was an honour) by @maaxverstappen | G | 4.6k Oscar and Lando started something, knowing it would end. It's all sweeter than it is bitter. I'm absolutely entranced by this fic. The emotion comes across so clearly, such a perfect, gentle bittersweet feeling. I don't re-read fics often, and this is one i've found myself returning to regularly.

They were always good at that, talking without words. Sometimes, and Oscar would never admit this, he would think cough twice if you hear this, being both surprised and relieved when Lando stayed quiet.

nsfw: you signed up for this by @strawberry-daiquiris | E | 6.9k This is a wonderful magical realism au where older!Oscar time travels back and teaches Oscar how to treat Lando properly. I think writing the same character twice and all that separates them is time gone by is so impressive. it really shows great writing skills and characterisation. The smut was obviously so well written but what I loved so dearly about this is how philosophical it was, so much growth for these characters within a single evening. A true must read for the landoscar community!!

He’s looking at himself, like some kind of fucked up mirror at a funfair. It’s him, but there are lines he doesn’t recognise, a heft to his upper body he can’t feel. His face looks older, and his teeth annoyingly, a little straighter. Oscar finds, to his horror, that this is him but hotter. Less hair though, at least there’s that. “Hello.” Not-him-but-him says, with a little wave and a sideways smile. Next to him, Lando giggles, and when Oscar turns to look at him he’s returning the wave, wiggling his fingers and letting the sheet he’d pulled up to his neck drop to right below his nipples. “Stop flirting with him!” Oscar exclaims, then reconsiders his point. “Or me. Or... alright, actually mate, who the fuck are you?”

force majeure by debrief | T | 7k Oscar and Lando get bodyswapped. The author absolutely nails the voices of both characters, Lando's chaotic way of speaking versus Oscar's more measured tone. Its largely constructed as a series of text messages until the last act, which is an inspired way of showing when a character is freaking out - Lando's messages in particular get more incoherent and full of typos when he's upset. The way they gradually draw toward one another as their situation isolates them (anyone else they confide in is erased from existence after), being one another's strength and comfort and support, is really beautiful to watch unfold.

craving for caprficns sn caprin sc capri sus suns capri suns and like so theyre usually on the lower shelf in ther corner i kown cause i alswasy get then here even tho theyre pricier priceri pricier and like they werent there and i double checked i asked the emploeye that was stocking the shelves in the next aisle and she sad said she dones t know what a capri usn is?? she even asked me if it was a zodiac sun zodiac sign shit i cant cry over caprin sun osc

nsfw: love along the way by @gaslybottoms | E | 10k AU, sex work/adult entertainment. Oscar is a videographer for an adult entertainment studio. Lando is one of the performers. Oscar sees Lando struggling emotionally after intense scenes and wants to help him. Lando, though, is very reluctant to accept it. This is a wonderful fic - Oscar is hurting so badly for Lando and is desperate to comfort him, but he can only be brushed off so many times before he gives up. He is so worried for Lando that he misses signs of distress in himself, which ends up bringing about a resolution to the situation in a way nobody (including me!) expected.

It’s cheesy. A line literally straight from a porno, and one Oscar has heard so many times over the last year or so. He shouldn’t find himself hating the way it sounds, curling around Jenson’s tongue as he chases his release. He’s not even a bad guy. Outside of filming, Oscar likes him. He’s always up for a laugh, and he makes an effort to get to know about all the people that work in the agency, not just the actors he’s supposed to do scenes with. He’s always supportive, offering advice from a mature point of view. And yet. Right now, Oscar can’t stand him. The way that he gets to take care of Lando in a way that Oscar can’t, because Lando doesn’t open up to him the same way. The way of telling Oscar how he feels, not how he might open up around Oscar’s -

the sun (in your eyes) by @wisteriagoesvroom | M | 11.3k Lando stumbles upon a flower shop. Oscar's flower shop, to be precise. This is a wonderful florist!Oscar au. What I love so dearly about this is that the author has taken the lyric/concept of "you don't have to say i love you to say i love you" and applied it to flower language. How creative and clever. I love how throughout this fic Oscar and Lando really become what the other person needs, they are always there for each other. All of it just feels so safe and comforting. The dialogue is witty and fun and the descriptions are really well rounded. And as the cherry on top, this was written For Me so its wonderfully perfect.

Home. Home is pine needles and Ribena and his first car and a return ticket to Heathrow and taking your seat at your local cafe and the baristas knowing your name. But home can also be this: an open door, a room full of flowers and green and life. A cup of your favourite tea and a snack you’ve come to associate with the word comfort. A conversation with a man who offers you a safe harbour, with no conditions to be anything other than to be what you are.

nsfw: you're burning up, i'm cooling down by @foggieststars | E | 12.3k Lando and Oscar have an understanding, Oscar doesn't get to come until Lando decides he's been good enough. This fic is so good and it might be my most reread f1 fic ever at this point. The dialogue is amazing and feels so real and on point for both Lando and Oscar. Their dynamic is so fun and sexy and well written and it makes so much sense for them and what I feel like landoscar would be. I lack the words to accurately describe how good this is: the writing, the plot, the sex are all phenomenal.

He teases Oscar about it, sometimes. How badly he wants it - to win, to be good. Lando asks him if he ever gets hard in the car out of some twisted desperation to please people. He loves thinking about Oscar’s muscled thighs clenching together in the car, vibrations running through his whole body, sparking little points of contact. So Lando lets the little game drag on into the race build-up sometimes, when Oscar is okay with it.

under my skin by @lellabellawrites | M | 16.8k An AU in which Oscar and Lando are serial killers who have a meet cute while dumping bodies, and fall in love. This fic absolutely floored me with how good it was, how this pair of incredibly dangerous people managed to focus all that intensity on one another. Their devotion to one another is absolutely touching, even if you can never forget what they do for fun. Oscar is methodical and calculating, Lando is more impulsive, which is perfect characterisation and shows how well they fit together, the Yin and Yang of it all. The ending left me breathless.

Oscar knows exactly who this man is now. The Quad County Killer sprung up last summer and has been on quite a spree lately. A handful of Oscar's kills have been attributed to him, which should be a relief from the extra cover it brings, but instead only pisses him off. This guy works recklessly, leaving his kills out in the open like he wants to be found out. Oscar would like the papers to give him a little more credit than that. "I work better alone." His disdain must be evident as the man relents with a sneer of disappointment. "Could you at least help me drag this down—" "No." "Fine." He takes one end of the duffel and heaves it over the curb with more strength than Oscar would have expected from his slender frame. "Did you sink yours or float?" "Sink. I'm not an idiot." "Alright. Rude."

you be time, i'll be space by littleplumtree | M | 50.8k Lando and Oscar are part of a space exploration team with the goal of finding sentient life outside of earth. why I like it: This author is a master of the details. Every piece, every detail, every action and reaction, they all serve to make the story richer and more vibrant. The characterization, too, feels comfortable and real. It's a joy to read.

With his eye to the microscope, Lando makes a heart wrenching little sound of relief. “Oh. Oh my god. There you are.” Oscar leans his elbows on the bench and stares into the tank. There’s nothing to see with the naked eye, but in that water is something that could one day, given all the time in the world, evolve into something like themselves. Maybe one day they’ll build pyramids and cry at sad movies and invent Tupperware and come up with a thousand different ways to insult each other online.

nsfw: Casual by @loquarocoeur | E | 95k AU, college roommates. Lando is perpetually horny and unlucky when it comes to hookups. He suggests that he and Oscar should just be friends with benefits, you know. Casual. Oscar agrees, even though he is madly in love with Lando and knows its a recipe for disaster. Lando gradually starts to realise the same. I am insane for just how good this fic is. It's not that the guys don't talk, they talk all the time and even communicate about their unique situation, they understand one another deeply and yet they still don't realise what space they occupy in one another's hearts. They are completely compatible in bed, if only they knew - Lando in particular is self conscious about the way he gets in bed and fights his very nature, all while not realising Oscar likes him that way. The angst is heavy but they get there in the end, while it has plenty of funny dialogue moments to lighten things. The characterisation is wonderful all round.

“So I stopped asking for sex and now we haven’t fucked in like five days which should be fine, but I don’t know, I’m getting desperate and he's just, like, fine, so maybe he doesn't need the sex, maybe he doesn't want the sex anymore, but he just can't admit it—” “Okay, Lando, I think you’re really overthinking—” “No! Because you see the fucking isn’t the only thing, the thing is that somehow we’ve sort of accidentally slept in the same bed for like a week and now we’re sort of fighting so I couldn’t sleep last night.” “Accidentally... For a week?”

Gax taking turns with a very needy Lando as a treat for me and @16wheelerhorse

mdni

George has him laughing so hard he can’t breathe.

It starts with a light brush of fingers under Lando’s shirt, a nudge of knuckles along ribs that makes him jolt. But George doesn’t stop there. He’s got Lando straddling his lap, caged in by strong arms and long legs, nowhere to go but closer — and George is relentless. Fingertips teasing every sensitive spot he’s already mapped out, lips pressing open-mouthed kisses wherever Lando squirms to avoid them.

“George—stop,” Lando wheezes, body shivering with overstimulation, but his hands don’t really try to push him away. They’re clinging instead, clawing at George’s shoulders as if it’ll anchor him. His face is flushed, hair a sweaty mess, and there’s this smile — huge, radiant, unguarded — that hasn’t left his lips since the second George pulled him into his lap.

“You’re so cute when you laugh,” George mutters against his throat, nipping at his skin. “I should keep you like this. Every damn day.”

Lando gasps, hips twitching when George’s teeth scrape just beneath his ear. His laughter’s collapsing into soft moans now, quiet and helpless.

He’s falling apart.

And George just holds him closer, one hand flat between his shoulder blades, the other slipping lower—thumb dragging the waistband of Lando’s pants down just enough to feel skin.

He looks across the room, meeting Max’s eyes.

He hasn’t said a word in minutes. Just sat back, legs spread, one hand resting low between his thighs as he drinks in the sight of them. His eyes are heavy-lidded and dark, and George can feel them on his skin just as much as Lando’s body.

Max doesn’t blink. He doesn’t need to. The way his pupils blow wide, the way his tongue drags slow across his bottom lip — that says enough.

“You are pretty too,” George says. “All wrecked and sweet.”

He’s hungry. Desperate. Turned on beyond reason.

And George knows what he’s doing. He’s smug with it. He rocks up once, slow and mean, dragging a moan from Lando that surprises even him. His smile softens, gaze trailing down Lando’s red cheeks, his spit-slick lips, the way his lashes flutter when George brushes his knuckles over the curve of his waist.

Lando’s breath catches. He turns his head, biting back a grin, but he can’t hide the way his hips roll forward again, desperate and uncoordinated.

George presses another kiss to Lando’s cheek, softer this time, letting his hand settle on Lando’s ass with no subtlety at all. He presses his mouth to the shell of Lando’s ear and murmurs, low and slow, “He’s watching us, you know.”

Lando’s eyes flick open. Dazed. Pupils blown.

“Max,” George continues, loud enough now. “Don’t you love how sweet he gets when he’s all tired out like this?”

Max doesn’t answer with words. He just stands.

His steps are slow like he’s savoring every second. George doesn’t let go of Lando—he just shifts him higher, so Lando’s straddling him properly now, chest to chest, thighs spread open around George’s hips. Lando clings on instinct, forehead falling against George’s collarbone.

Then Max is there, sinking onto the couch beside them, hand curling into Lando’s hair. He pulls gently until Lando’s head tips back, exposing the flushed stretch of his throat.

“He’s fucking gorgeous,” Max mutters, thumbing at Lando’s lower lip.

George grins. “Told you.”

Max leans in and kisses Lando, slow and filthy. Lando makes a sound—too soft to be a protest, too desperate to be anything but surrender. George feels the tremor run through his body, feels the way his hips twitch forward like he’s chasing after Max’s mouth.

When they break apart, Lando’s breathing fast, face tilted up, completely dazed. His shirt is bunched under his arms, exposing his stomach, George traces down from the hollow of his ribcage to his navel gently.

“You gonna let him make you cum from laughing, Lando?” Max asks, tone low, mocking and darkly affectionate.

Lando stammers, mouth opening like he wants to answer, but George hums in amusement and palms him through his pants— and Lando gasps, back arching.

“Answer him,” George says into his ear, voice gone rough. “Tell Max how good I’m making you feel.”

“I—I can’t—” Lando whispers, choking on a moan.

Max smiles, sharp and slow.

“Thought so.”

Then he’s reaching for Lando’s face — not gently. Fingers digging into his jaw, thumb dragging across spit-slick lips like he’s testing how pliant he is.

Lando doesn’t pull away. He leans into it. His lashes flutter, and he moans again, softer this time, more pleading.

“Look how pretty he is like this,” George says, eyes still on Max. “I barely have to try.”

“He’s gorgeous,” Max agrees, eyes never leaving Lando’s. “And you’re smug as fuck.”

George laughs, but it’s breathless. Even he’s a little undone now, grinding Lando slowly against his lap like he’s proving a point.

“He deserves this,” George says. “Fucking spoiled.”

Max’s hand slides down Lando’s chest, fingertips tracing every twitch of muscle beneath the thin fabric.

“You want that, schat?” Max asks, voice quieter now. “You want us both?”

Lando nods so fast it looks like he’s losing balance.

“Please,” he whispers.

Max shifts closer, his other hand brushing George’s. Their fingers tangle briefly, but they focus back on the task at hand. There’s something possessive in the way they both hold him now — not rough, yet. Like Lando belongs between them. Like he’s theirs.

George watches as Max leans in, mouth brushing Lando’s neck, right where George left that bite. He kisses over it, then bites down again, harder. Lando cries out.

“You want us to ruin you?” George asks, voice low and warm. “You want to be good for us?”

George slips a hand between them, cupping Lando through his pants. He’s hard—painfully so—and twitching under George’s palm.

Lando gasps, a bitten-off noise, hips jerking. “Fuck—George—”

Max catches his chin and holds him still. “Look at me when you say it.”

Lando’s eyes flutter open. He does as he’s told.

George moves his hand, slow and firm, and Lando whines. He’s so far gone, trembling in their hands, and the smile that started all of this is still tugging weakly at the corner of his lips.

George cups his jaw, tilts his face back toward him.

“You’re not tired yet, are you?” George asks, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I haven’t even made you beg yet.”

“I will,” Lando breathes. “I’ll do anything.”

“Good,” Max says, already undressing Lando from his shirt. “Because I’m not stopping till you forget your own name.”

George chuckles darkly, lips brushing Lando’s again.

“Not a thought in that pretty head, is there?”

Lando shakes his head — no, nothing — and they both groan, nearly in sync.

 “You want both of us?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

Lando’s voice is a whisper. “I want both of you.”

Max kisses him again, deeper now, as George rocks up beneath him. Lando’s moan is swallowed between them, and he goes pliant, caught between their hands, their mouths, their weight.

George breaks the kiss this time. “Let’s take him apart properly.”

Max’s smile is all teeth.

George lifts Lando, and Max catches him—together they move him back onto the couch, where he falls, boneless and flushed and trembling. He reaches for both of them without thinking, like he needs them, like he can’t be whole without their hands on him.

And maybe he can’t.

Lando lies there, legs parted, chest rising fast. His eyes are glassy, lips bruised from too many kisses, his hair a wild halo from where George had teased his fingers through it while making him laugh. He looks ruined already, but he hasn’t even been touched properly.

George kneels on the floor beside him, hands roaming slow over his hips,  unbuttons his trousers with impatient fingers. His cock is leaking, twitching against his stomach, the waistband of his boxers wet from it. He’s desperate—and it shows. There's no hiding now. Not from George, and certainly not from Max, whose hands are now drifting down the front of his chest, thumbs grazing his nipples, rolling them until Lando gasps and arches into the touch.

“God, you’re so good,” Max breathes against his neck. “You were made to be touched like this.”

George nods in agreement, mouthing at the inside of Lando’s thigh. “Every part of you begs for it.”

Lando’s fingers twitch in Max’s hair, pulling lightly, not even knowing what he’s asking for—just wanting. He’s panting now, lips parted, eyes unfocused. There’s a tremor in his stomach that George loves—the way it clenches when he brushes his knuckles just beneath the waistband again.

Then George hooks his fingers and tugs the boxers down.

His cock rests heavy against his stomach, flushed and leaking, and when George wraps a hand around it, Lando arches—helpless.

“Fuck—George—”

Max watches every twitch of Lando’s body, eyes dark. “So sensitive,” he mutters. “We should take turns. Make you come over and over until you cry.”

Lando whines, high in his throat. “Please. Please.”

George squeezes gently, thumbing over the tip, dragging more slick out. “So polite now,” he says, grinning. “Max, you seeing this? He’s finally begging.”

Max leans in and licks into Lando’s mouth, slow and filthy. “Keep begging, schatje. We’re not done.”

George presses a kiss to the base of his cock, right where it meets his pelvis, and watches the way Lando shakes. Then another, and another, until he’s mouthing up the length of him, tongue wet and slow, deliberate. Lando is keening now, pushing his hips up despite himself, held down only by Max’s hand on his ribs and the firm press of George’s grip at his thighs.

When George finally takes him into his mouth—deep, warm, and unrelenting— Lando breaks. His entire body jerks, hands flying to George’s hair, but George catches his wrists and holds them down, hears the way Lando gasps, the sound raw and open, like he’s coming apart at the seams. Max watches it all over his shoulder, watches the way Lando’s body reacts, trembling and pliant, lips bitten red.

“Fuck, Georgie,” Max mutters, voice breaking slightly with heat. “Look at him. Look what you’re doing to him.”

George hums low around Lando’s cock in response, sending vibrations through him, and Lando shatters. His head falls back against Max’s shoulder, mouth slack, eyes shut tight. He’s already close—he’s been close for ages. And Max is whispering, “You gonna be good and come for us?” and George hollowing his cheeks—

“G-George, I’m—” Lando chokes on it, hips twitching, muscles shaking like he’s trying so hard to hold back. “Can’t—oh fuck—”

George lets him go just long enough to say, “Don’t you dare come yet.”

He pulls back, licking his lips, smug and glowing. “You’ll come when we let you.”

Lando groans, eyes squeezed shut. His body is strung tight, like a bow ready to snap.

Max shifts, kisses his chest, biting just enough to leave a mark. “You like this,” he whispers, licking across a nipple. “Like being handled. Like being good for us.”

“I—I love it,” Lando breathes, head tossing side to side. “I want—fuck, I want everything—”

“You’re ready for us.”

Max grins and shifts them, guiding Lando down flat onto the couch and crawling over him like a shadow, caging him in. Lando pulls him down by the neck and kisses him hard, filthy and desperate, tasting himself on Max’s tongue. George moves behind them, watching, hands already undoing his own jeans, his knuckles brushing over the tight line of his arousal as he takes in the view.

Max breaks the kiss, eyes locked with George. “Come here.”

He doesn’t wait—he gets his pants off in seconds, grabbing Lando’s hips and dragging him closer. George helps, lifting Lando’s legs, kissing the backs of his knees, down to the curve of his ass.

“You want him first?” George asks, voice thick.

Max’s hand strokes along Lando’s thigh. “No. You take him. I’ll watch.”

George smirks. “You always love watching.”

“Tell us if you want to stop,” Max says, kissing Lando’s jaw. “You’re ours, but only if you want to be.”

It’s the last thing he gets out before Max kisses him again, Lando’s too far gone to process the words. His fingers are curled tight into the couch cushions, thighs spread, face turned to the side with his lips parted like he’s dreaming it all. And George presses in, slow and patient, working him open with lubed fingers first, then the steady wet slide of his cock, both of them taking their time—watching his face, the way his lips part, the small stuttering moan that escapes him.

“Jesus,” George mutters, hands gripping Lando’s hips. “You feel—fuck, you feel too good.”

Lando’s mouth moves, but no words come out. Just whimpers. Just wrecked, desperate sounds as George begins to move, each thrust slow and deep, designed to make Lando feel it.

“Let him feel everything,” Max murmurs, hand stroking himself slowly as he watches. “Make it last.”

George sets a rhythm, hips grinding down just right, and every time Lando gasps, Max catches his mouth with his own. He tastes like sweat and need, like the kind of pleasure that makes your body go numb.

“You’re taking him so well,” Max whispers between kisses. “So deep. So full.”

Lando nods weakly, tears at the corners of his eyes. “Y-yeah, I—feels good—feels so fucking—”

George leans down and kisses his throat. “Gonna let me fill you up, pretty boy? Gonna take it all?”

Lando moans loud, body arching. “Yes—please—yes—”

Max kisses him, deep and bruising, while George fucks into him harder now, the slap of skin loud in the room. Lando’s body rocks between them, pliant and perfect, and George is close—he knows it, can feel it clawing up his spine.

“Come for us,” Max says, hand wrapped around Lando’s cock again. “Now.”

Lando shatters. His back arches off the couch, body locking up as he spills over Max’s hand, all while George pushes deep one last time and comes with a groan against his neck, clutching him so tight it borders on painful.

For a moment, everything is still.

Then George pulls out, gentle, hands stroking Lando’s thighs like a thank-you. Max leans down and kisses him again, this time soft, reverent.

Lando’s breathing like he ran a marathon. His body is limp, his hair damp, his throat covered in love bites.

George leans against the couch, brushing Lando’s cheek. “Told you I could make him like this.”

Max smiles lazily. “You were right.”

Then he stands, cock still hard, and looks down at Lando with dark eyes.

“Now it’s my turn.”

Lando whimpers, throat wrecked. “Max…”

He’s already spent. There’s come smeared across his stomach, leaking from between his legs, and yet his body thrums under Max’s touch, like it knows what’s coming next and wants it anyway.

Max’s mouth curves into something dark. “Poor thing. You’re hard again.”

And he is. Pathetically so.

George watches from the couch, shirtless, his hair a mess, a lazy smile playing on his lips. “He lives for this. You’ve got no idea how sweet he gets when he’s cockdrunk.”

“I can see it,” Max says, hand wrapping around Lando’s length, already making him shudder. “Look at you. Still greedy.”

Lando gasps, body twitching. “I—I can’t—”

“You can,” Max growls, sliding his hand down to tease over Lando’s hole, pushing George’s release back in with a filthy noise. “And you will.”

Lando moans like he’s dying. George chuckles low and leans in to brush hair from his damp forehead. “You’re gonna take Max like a good boy, yeah?”

He nods. Weakly. Brokenly.

But Max waits for more. “Say it.”

Lando’s mouth parts, breath shaky. “I’ll take you. I want it. I want you.”

That’s all Max needs. He strokes himself, slow, letting Lando watch as he lines up and presses in—slow, deep, a stretch that makes Lando’s entire body bow off the bed.

George hisses, watching every inch disappear inside him. “Fuck. Look how full he is.”

Max groans, his hips grinding down once he’s buried to the hilt. “So fucking tight,” he mutters, voice nearly trembling. “Even after George.”

Lando sobs. Not from pain—he loves it. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Max fucks deep, purposeful, dragging pleasure from the very bones of him. He doesn’t move fast—he savors it. Every thrust feels deliberate, dragging against that spot that makes Lando see stars.

“Yes—” Lando cries, fists tightening in the sheets. “Oh god—Max, please—”

“Taking me so good,” Max pants, sweat dripping down his neck. “Made for this. You love being ours.”

George kisses his temple. “So pretty when he cries. Look at you—so desperate, so sweet.”

Lando can’t stop shaking. Max’s hand curls under his knee, pushing it up to go deeper, and Lando screams—a sound pure and wrecked. His cock’s untouched, leaking all over his stomach again, and still Max fucks into him like it’s the first time.

“You feel it?” Max hisses. “My cock. Right here.” He presses a hand to Lando’s belly. “I’m so fucking deep, baby.”

Lando’s nails dig into his arms. “Can’t—can’t think—fuck—”

“You don’t have to think,” George whispers, hand drifting down to stroke him slowly. “Just feel. Just take it.”

It’s too much. And it’s perfect.

Max fucks harder now, hips slamming forward, each movement forcing broken moans from Lando’s throat. The sound of skin on skin is obscene—wet, messy, raw. George strokes Lando in time with Max’s thrusts, and it’s devastating, how close he is again.

“Come,” Max says, voice rough. “Come for us. Show us who you belong to.”

Lando sobs, his body locking up—and then he’s coming, violently, helplessly, coating his stomach again, mouth open in a silent scream. He doesn’t even feel the wetness on his face until George kisses it away, licking the tears right off his cheeks.

Max follows seconds later, moaning deep in his chest as he spills inside Lando, hips stuttering before he collapses against him, panting, feral with it.

The room goes quiet.

Only their breathing, the slow beat of aftershocks. Lando’s chest rises and falls, his body trembling with exhaustion. Max doesn’t pull out—he stays buried deep, possessive, one hand stroking up Lando’s side.

“You’re ours,” he murmurs, so soft it’s nearly a prayer.

George lies beside them, brushing sweat-matted hair from Lando’s brow. “Look what we do to you.”

Lando can’t speak. He just nods, wide-eyed and ruined, and George smiles.

“We’ll do it again,” he promises, low and dark. “Again and again until you forget what it felt like to be untouched.”

And the worst part—the best part—is Lando wants it.

Craves it.

Already.

A commission of Chestappen I requested🥰

Hey, honey, I need your help. I want to write a dirty story about Pedri but I don't know with whom because I don't watch soccer. Pedri is an exception in soccer for me. Can you please suggest some soccer players? If possible, they should be on the same team.

First of all, thank you for wanting to write a dirty story about Pedri. It’s very much appreciated. 🥹❤️

Secondly, I actually ship Pedri with many soccer players (who also happen to play for the same team):

My ABSOLUTE favourite ships are Pedri/Ferran Torres and Pedri/Eric Garcia.❣️❣️

Pedri and Ferran are massively sending out best friends to lovers trope vibes with Pedri being Ferran’s soft spot. 🥺

Pedri and Eric are resembling the best friends with benefits trope, there is always sexual tension between them. 🥵

Unfortunately, these ships are not very popular on either ao3 or tumblr. But this is an even better reason to write a fic about them if you ask me. 😉🥰

The most popular ship is Pedri/Gavi. Tbh, I don’t know how to describe it. 😭 I’m not that deep into this ship. Just let the following gif speak to you. Gavi is very possessive of Pedri, while Pedri is anchoring Gavi and is the remedy to his restlessness.

If you are into age gap and daddy vibes, I would also recommend the Pedri/Lewandowski ship. They are really underrated in my opinion.

Another underapprciated but very hot ship is Pedri/Ter Stegen. Their height difference is delicious. 😋 Pedri is a little bunny next to the goalkeeper. 🥺🐰 And the mental image of Pedri’s tiny pretty hands entwined with Ter Stegen‘s enormous ones is so 😵‍💫🥺🤏🏻

What is also mentionable is the Pedri/Ansu Fati ship. Ansu‘s behaviour can be interpreted as being hopelessly in love with Pedri from afar, while Pedri is oblivious to his feelings and the signals Ansu is sending out. However, Ansu‘s love for Pedri is not necessarily unrequited - Pedri simply needs to open his eyes and realise what’s right in front of him.

Last but not least, I would also like to introduce you to the Pedri/Unai Simon ship. Although they aren’t club teammates, they do play for the same national team. And people are sleeping on them because they are so damn cute together. 🥹 Unai Simon adores Pedri so much, has adored him from the first moment he laid eyes on him in the national team. He is also a goalkeeper. 😏🤭 AND extremely protective of Pedri, that little boy is Unai‘s beautiful and precious little butterfly.

I hope I was able to give you some interesting ideas and attractive ship suggestions. If you really want my final verdict, I would always choose Pedri/Ferran over anything else. 7️⃣8️⃣♾❤️ But feel free to get inspired yourself by the examples above. I’m looking forward to your story and wish you good luck, love! 🍀🫶🏻

...

oscar piastri blind ranking pancakes for anyone who might be interested

Do not separate them. Ever. The world will blow up.