oscinhaslandito

[oscinhaslandito]

not me falling for the oscarmark propoganda 🥺

Just leaving this here

[oscinhaslandito]

and if i say this is THE landoscar edit--

[source: x x]

[oscinhaslandito]

meant to take all my love [o.p]

pairing: Dark!Spiderman!Oscar Piastri x GN!Reader wc: 4.4k cw: heavily implied vouyerisim, implied masturbation, implied stalking, graphic descriptions of sexual thoughts, pwp: fingering, oral (f reciving), minor destruction of clothing, grinding, biting, unprotected sex (don't do this btw), riding, dub-con (no explicit consent is given for half the shit they do), mild degradation/dumbification (blink and you'll miss it), praise, overstim, usage of good girl, dom/sub dynamics, power play, the whole 9 yards i guess an: spider oscar save me... also wow this is terrible i did not think there would be a day where i actually wrote smut,,,, moots, please ignore this especially if you know me irl. inspired by: tempo by kyu and the machine by reed wonder/aurora olivas.

[MINORS DNI, you will be blocked if i catch you]

Oscar's skin was burning hot with shame.

He couldn’t help watching you from across your room, still beat up and damp in his spiderman suit, letting him in oh so casually as if it were just another visit from a friend you hadn’t seen in a while. 

You didn’t know it was him.

He was so incredibly in love with you. 

And so incredibly hard right now.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t done this before. Like he hadn’t trailed behind you, an invisible guard dog protecting you from the unknown dangers of the city. Like he hadn’t sat on the fire escape in the early morning hours, watching you toss and turn with a look on your face he could only dream of. He’d found every occasion there was to let himself into your life, learning every little thing about you. you, knowing or not.

He hated himself for how much more he wanted to consume your being.

You only truly knew him as Oscar though. 

Quiet, reserved Oscar, your neighbor who occasionally carried your groceries up the stairs, who sat with you every time you cried about something stupid, who held a soft spot for you almost everyone could see.

The one who dreamed about you writhing under him, hand around his cock while your name fell off his filthy lips.

The guilt was eating him alive. He didn’t know if it was from how close he was, or from how far he’d let it go on.

Probably both, he reasoned, ears burning as he tried to dry off faster.

You were now quietly settled in the corner of your bed, leaning against the walls of your room, book in hand. His eyes only wandered further down. There wasn’t much left to imagination there anyways in the skimpy outfit you had on.

A sick, sticky feeling only stirred in his chest as the thought reignited a thought from two nights ago, when he was safely locked behind his door after another impromptu visit to your window: him crouched between your legs, a soft whimper escaping your mouth as you tugged his head like he was some sort of toy, guiding him to do what you wanted. 

He’d fed that ugly beast, letting it rear its head at even a thought of you. Now it was starving, begging for more than it deserved. More than he deserved.

It was only a couple moments before he broke the silence again. Finding his way to the foot of the bed, hoovering. His heart was hammering in his chest as he opened his mouth, afraid of the filth replaying in his mind spilling out in the place of words.

“Ah- thank you.” He paused for a moment. “For the towel. And the first aid.”

You hummed. “You’re lucky. I almost went out with my friends today, but I decided to stay back. I guess I knew It was gonna be a long night opening my window for strange men to come in.”

His heart leapt out of his chest. He didn’t know if it was jealousy, fear or something bigger than that. “Not just any stranger though. Is that really all I am to you?”

“Totally.” You giggled, unaware of the jealousy that found its way onto his face.

“I may be Spiderman, but I’m just a normal person deep down. Not much different from you.”

“Right.” You smiled that sweet, deadly smile at him, and he felt chest squeeze. “You’re not Spiderman. I guess you’re just Spidey. My Spidey.”

That was all it took for the thin rope of his restraint to snap.

He didn’t think anymore, he just moved, consequences be damned. 

Adrenaline pumped through his veins, blood rushing in his ears as he crawled, filling the space between you two in less than a second.

You raised your hands, startled by the suddenness of his movement, unsure what you were even defending yourself from. You barely registered the sounds of questioning leaving your own throat before he kissed you.

It wasn’t soft like you’d imagined it to be.

No, it was hard and messy, reeking of desperation.

He was clashing with you, pushing himself further onto you. He was trying to pull you closer to himself, hands digging into your sides as you collided into him.

He broke away soon enough, chest rising and falling as if he’d just ran a mile. 

“I- I’ve watched you before.” He panted, words falling out of his mouth. “Watched you live, outside of the protection or the heroics. It’s not fair.”

You froze, brows furrowed as you tried to process the information. “Wh- What do you mean by that?”

You almost swore you could’ve heard him groaning under his breath, pressing his forehead to yours. 

You couldn’t read his eyes, obscured by the mask he wore, but you could still feel the heat radiating off him.

“I’ve been good,” he said feverently, voice wavering as he closed in on your lips again, eyes flitting up at you for a moment. “So fucking good. Sitting outside, listening, waiting, never taking anything you haven’t gave me. I’ve been protecting you.”

Your heart almost stopped. You couldn’t breath, your own eyes wandering down to his exposed lips, raw and glossy as if he’d been biting them in deep frustration. It made you painfully horny and painfully uncomfortable.

“But this isn’t you. You aren’t…” You trailed off. If anything, this was proof, he wasn’t who you thought he was. Your chest ached but his words lit a fire in your cunt, hot and bothered.

It was like walking a taunt tightrope, trembling, heart bursting at the slightest provocation.

He smiled, though it wasn’t one of his usual sweet smiles. It was predatory.

“You don’t know who I am.” He murmured, brittle. “You don’t know me like I want you to know me, baby.”

He kissed you again. Harder, this time.

His hand moved from your waist, greedy as they found their way into your shorts. You were basically unraveling by the time he got to the wet patch on your underwear, failing to stifle a dark laugh at your condition.

Teeth clashed, and his tongue swiped over your lips as if trying to taste your flavor. Another hand ran up your shirt as he played with you through the thin fabric of your panties, pressing down and cupping the area.

You couldn’t hold back the broken whine that slipped, book abandoned somewhere on the floor as you tried to buck up subtly, trying to get friction through the thin fabric.

The concentration in his smile turned mocking, vicious. There was no doubt he’d heard the way your heart was thundering in your chest.

“You like you’re getting off this more than me.” He pulled the waistband, earning a yelp from you when it snapped against your skin. “You’re such a whore even when you try acting shy, baby.”

You grabbed his wrist, trying to pull his hand away from you, but his other hand came back down to stop you. 

He pried your thighs apart, giving you a pointed look as he leaned into you again, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Behave. I would hate to end things here and I’m sure you want more than this.”

You snapped still.

You couldn’t say you hated it when he said that. No. You loved it, and it felt filthy.

”Good girl. Now take it off, don’t make me ask you again.”

You could’ve sworn you could’ve imagined what his eyes looked like as he watched you gingerly pull your shorts down, hesitating as you reached your underwear. He was peeling off his own skin tight suit, abs toned from nights of swinging and fighting crime.

It was silent for a couple moments as you debated saying something to break the silence, his mouth forming a thin line at your obvious reluctance.

“Hurry up please.” He groaned, shifting uncomfortably. You didn’t dare look down.

You opened your mouth to say something but he beat you to it, hooking a finger through and tearing them straight off.

You couldn’t help the whine that came out, fingers digging into the sheets as the cold air hit the wetness. He was stronger than you thought he'd be but it wasn’t a surprise, he was Spiderman after all.

“You were taking too long.” He snapped, breathing hard as he got closer again. 

You were dazed by your own lack of opposition, somehow entirely comfortable letting him manhandle you as he pleased.

He noticed, eyes flickering underneath the mask back to you.

“Did you know I’ve thought about this all the damn time?” He muttered, reaching ro brush the damp hair sticking to your forehead back. “Wondered all about your sensitivity, wondered what kinds of sounds you make when you cum, ‘bout how nice it would be holding you down and keeping you here.”

You moaned, writhing as he tapped on your clit again, reaching up to loop your hands around his neck.

“Ah- please.”

The tension was a tightrope, trembling with the anticipation of it snapping.

“Yeah?” He exhaled sharply, lips moving down the column of your neck, biting down hard when you gave him access. You could feel his canines sinking into the crook of your neck, unusually sharp.

“You want this, don’t you?” Pain jolted across your body, but It felt good.

“You want me to fuck you with my hand or my tongue? Either way I’ll loosen you up a little, hmm? ‘S that sound good to you baby?” It took everything in you not to squirm at his words and you still failed, letting him push you down as his attention moved to your soaked cunt.

His hand played up your leg while he kissed your neck again and again, fingers brushing against your trembling thighs purposefully until they found their way into your fluttering hole. 

His fingers were coated with your slick as he thrust one in cautiously as a test, causing you to jerk. That was his sign to go, pushing them in and out, sliding with surprising ease.

“You’re so desperate.” He said smugly, kissing your jaw as his thumb started to rub circles into your clit. “Rutting into my hand like you haven’t done this night and night again. I’ve seen it all, pretty girl, can’t keep your hands to yourself when you’re all alone.”

Your heart stuttered and he picked up the pace, free hand keeping your thighs spread. You couldn’t keep your eyes on him, looping your arms around his neck, keeping him locked where he was. He teased another one into you quickly, going deeper until his palm was flush with your cunt. The constant stimulation made you whine, chest tightening with pleasure.

You were heaving with effort, trying to bury your face in the crook of his neck as a hand returned to soothe your sides. “You’re so greedy, letting a person whose face you don’t even know do this kind of thing to you, you’ll just take any stimulation you get, yeah? Your fingers weren’t enough, were they?” He cooed, curling his fingers inside you to get another reaction.

He could be so cruel.

His free hand made its way up your shirt at the same time, this time successfully finding your chest. He tweaked with the nipple, rubbing and pinching at it as you let out a muffled gasp at the sensation.

“Do- hng, do you want me to take my shirt off?” You stuttered, lifting your face from his crook.

He paused, getting slower momentarily. 

“Nah, keep it on, it’s fine.” The loss of stimulation made you feel impatient and needy, but he picked right back up where he had left off.

It was torturous, the coil curling in your belly as he pressed harder and harder. Without warning, it snapped, and you seized up. It was almost shameful, the moan of relief you let out.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’monnn…” He muttered, kissing you again. It was just as messy, only slightly softer though, as if coaxing you into willingly letting him in. He shuddered as you let him have his way, moaning softly into the kiss before letting you go with a quick peck to the corner of your mouth. 

His lips were swollen and pink, hot against your skin as he kissed down your body, pressing one final kiss to your stomach before disappearing from where you could see him. He hooked his arms under your legs, pressing kisses up your inner thigh all the way up.

His breath was hot against your cunt, earning a whine from you as you tried to buck up, only held down by him. You could’ve come from the sensation alone, head clouded with the pleasure of the previous orgasm.

“Mmh, there she is.” He unfurled an arm, prodding at your entrance once again, tracing circles around your lips. “You want something, you’re gonna have to ask for it or are you too dumb from one orgasm to even speak?”

You gaped, trying to squeeze your thighs shut in response, but he pried them apart again with unpracticed ease.

“Ah ah, I didn’t say you could do that, did I?” He sighed, voice rough. “I have to spell it out for you, don’t I baby?”

You swallowed, trying to still yourself as he gripped your legs firmly- reminding you of who was in control.

“Keep still, and let me play with you a little more.” He admitted to you. “Wanted to do this to you for a long time, you can have your fun with me later.”

He perked up a little bit, just enough to catch your eyes and receive confirmation before he went back down on you, kissing all over your cunt.

“Good girl,” He murmured, pressing a small kiss to your clit. “See? Things are good if you keep being a good girl f’me.”

You didn’t argue with him as you might’ve, legs shaking as he dove back in.

His kitten licks were light, but slowly they devolved into bolder licks, running up and down your cunt with utter disregard. 

It was like he was out to personally destroy you, targeting your weak points. He was reading hou, front to back, and for a moment you didn’t doubt his words about knowing you.

He inserted his fingers back into your hole as well, pumping as he sucked and licked at your clit, groaning against your trembling core. He was shaking the bed as well, grinding against the sheets as wet sounds filled the air. You arched your back, gripping the sheets as his nose bumped the bottom of your clit.

His mouth was just as relentless, eager to get you to come again and again. He was greedy, frantic, trying to pull everything he could out of you.

You were shaking, unstable hands slipping again and again from the slick fabric, failing to drag him closer like you desperately wanted to.

Your frustration twisted through your haze. You needed more. Deeper, closer, burning hot-

You didn’t think when you moved, hands moving under the mask at the back of his neck before you pulled. 

His groan of questioning went unnoticed by you yet his mouth didn’t stop even as you pulled the mask up, exposing more of him. 

You just want a better grip on his hair, just enough to-

Your body jolted, freezing in shock as you registered it. 

Oscar.

He froze, looking up at you as if it was his first time ever seeing you. His pupils were blown wide, lips shining and wet.

His breath ghosted your skin and made you even more horny, shamelessly letting more thoughts swarm your head.

His eyes were stirring with some kind of innate obsession, but it flickered as you looked at him. 

It melted. 

Something softer, more distraught took its place: fear. He looked just as desperate as you, if not more, staring at your chest from between your legs like a frightened cat unable to meet your eyes.

You sat up properly, grabbing a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up at you again.

“I- ah- ah, please.” His Adam's Apple bobbed, a gasp escaping his lips as he looked at you through lovesick eyes. Something came out of his mouth, groaning as you let go, running your fingers through his hair again to fix the mess you’d caused.

You stopped for a moment though, leaning in conspiratorily. “Oscar.”

He shuddered at the sound of his name. It made him look submissive, pliable, like you’d exposed him. It made sense now, why Oscar always looked injured or tired, or why he couldn’t ever seem to meet your eyes when you sat together. The man was in love with you.

You wondered how long he’d been playing you like that, why you hadn’t invited him in sooner.

“You’re not gonna stop me Osc?” You asked softly, watching as he squirmed under your gaze, clearly uncomfortable. His eyes glazed over slightly and face stained with spit and slick. The tension in his jaw was visible, even despite his outwards submission; You hated to say, but it made you wet with excitement.

“You’d do something if i asked you to?” He tried to look away, but you kept his face there, scanning his eyes for something more. He hesitated, face burning pink but you already knew his answer was.

“Take off your suit and lay down… please?” 

He scrambled, pulling the suit down from his his torso, revealing only grey boxers underneath. He had a raging boner, sporting a wet spot so dark you knew exactly what it was. Oscar swallowed hard, eyes flickering nervously. He looked like he was gonna cry from the tension alone.

Your eyes were immediately on him, scanning him from head until your eyes stopped at his thighs, thick and built. “To think you protect the city, huh?” You shivered, pushing him down. “I think you’re just as desperate as me.”

A loud groan escaped from his lips as you pushed him down, stilling for a moment as you mounted his thigh.

His breath hitched, chest rising and falling quickly as you put your hands on his chest, pushing yourself back and forth on his leg. His muscle flexed under you, causing you to whine, grinding down hard. 

He whimpered under you, hands finally finding their way to your hips after seconds of indecision. He pushed you down with more force than necessary, trembling as the friction increased, jolting through your body and putting more pressure on you. Your rhythm started setting itself, tracing the same path along his thigh with increasing intensity.

You weren’t looking, but you were sure there’d been some evidence of your struggle left on his thigh, allowing you to glide back and forth easier.

Oscar had zoned out from the sensation. His eyes were glassy, lips parted like he was trying to get something out but couldn’t. You hadn’t heard it, still chasing your own high with his assistance, allowing him to help you grind down on the taut muscle.

You hit your high moments later, and Oscar let out a low, guttral moan as you squeezed down his thigh, cum trickling down the sides. You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his chest as you waited to ride it out, twitching as his grip on your hips tightened.

“You got everything out of your system now?” You heard him say, voice cracking slightly as his fingers tapped on your skin. You let out a noncommittal noise, eyes shutting slightly as you rested against his chest.

He tutted, tapping stopping as his fingers dug into your skin, heavy and likely to bruise. You’d barely opened your eyes before he’d flipped you over on the mattress, jolting you awake and knocking the air out of you.

His thigh slipped free from your, moving faster than you’d anticipated seeing his dazed state. He manhandled you, grabbing your wrist with one hand and pinning them above your hand. 

You were startled. He managed to hold you down though, preventing you from landing any sort of hit on him.

He was a superhero for a reason, but it was still too-

The glassy look at completely disappeared, replaced with a look of anger and lust.

“You done using me already?” He spit, voice ragged and feral. “Making a mess of me like i’m nothing to you.”

Your chest was heaving as he stared your down, controlled and deliberate. He was still a message, with pink lips and flushed cheeks, but the look in his eyes was unmistakably him. You couldn’t handle it, looking to the side, avoiding his gaze further.

“Now why are you so embarrassed, huh?” He slotted a leg between yours, making you arch as it put pressure on your cunt again. His free hand moved, gripping your jaw with force, making you look at him through bleary eyes.

“I let you because I wanted it,” He continued, watching you through thick lashes, “Because you’re so pretty when you’re chasing your own pleasure.”

You whined as his leg pulled way from yours, wriggling at the loss of movement. 

“See how that feels baby?” He snarled, grinding against you, slow and forcefully. “Don’t even dream about using me like some kind of toy, ‘n just curling up on me like some kind of lazy cat. Not unless i get what i want, okay?”

You moaned in response, gasping as he pressed his bulge against you, whispering against your neck. “You feel that? That’s what you did to me, and you gotta make up to me for that, no? You’ve been acting like a common whore, baby, i really thought you were better than that.”

You couldn’t speak, paralyzed by how he touched you. The way his body pressed against yours, his hands up under your shirt again, playing with you like you’d imagined doing to yourself. He was the real deal.

When you didn’t answer, his hand left your body, trying to move the hair out of your eyes just to see your expression. “So quiet once you finally get what you want,” He muttered, laughing a hollow laugh, “But you always want more, don’t you? Is that what this is? Letting me use you so pilantly, just so i put my dick in you for being a good girl, yeah?”

You clenched, squeezing your thighs, unsuccessfully getting any more stimulation. 

“Say what you want baby. We all know you’re dying to ask for it.” He hummed, affectionate kisses to your jaw contrasting the violent way your stomach flipped at his statement. “Unless you’re too dumb to ask me to put my dick in you.”

You whimpered as the warmth of his hand disappeared from your body, slapping your clit lightly. The sensation made you spaz and squirm, trying to free yourself from his grip.

“Looks like your body really wants it, yeah? Should i put my dick in you, give you a reward for being so quiet?” You nodded, words in and out of your brain, unable to register anything beyond the roar of blood in your ears.

He let go of your hands, allowing you to grab at him as he pulled down his boxers.

You blanched.

He was definitely pretty, the head of his cock pink, wet from all his previous orgasms. It looked like he hadn’t been touched at all, and the guilt from your realization suddenly washed over you.

He might’ve noticed, but he didn’t say anything, giving himself a couple of quick pumps before lining himself up with the entrance to your cunt. 

You didn’t have anything to say at that point, watching as he pushed it in at first, slowly as if afraid of damaging something. You couldn’t hold back the moan you let out as he fucked it in, sinking deeper into your heat with every stroke. You took him in willingly though, clenching tightly around him as he pushed into you. He bottomed out for a moment, letting it sit as heat built up behind your eyes, watching you with a predatory smirk.

It wasn’t much longer before he could finally slip in and out of you again, rocking with a deliberate rhythm that made your toes curl and you cry out. You were struggling to catch your breath again, reaching up to put your arms around his neck.

He pried you off him just as quick, looking at your face, half delirious from the burn of the stretch. “Look at you, so damn greedy aren’t you baby? All you can think about is my dick up in you from the way your cunt is just swallow it up, can’t you? Not a single thought about how I hard I am from seeing you act like this.”

He growled, reaching down to rub your clit, slapping it and watching how you fall apart on top of him. “You sure love being fucked stupid for someone who acts so innocent.”

You clenched around him and he immediately noticed, grinning.

“Oh, so you do like it.” he cooed. “Looks like your cunt really loves it when I treat you like this, doesn’t she? Mine to do whatever I want with.”

You clenched tighter, feeling your stomach turn as he pressed down on it. He knew you were close. “Osc- ah, ah, Oscar, pleasepleaseplease-” You begged, reaching out to him again and burying your face in his neck. This time, he didn’t pry you off, instead putting a hand on your back.

The impact was instantaneous, cumming all ove him and the sheets as he thrust in, clearly starting to chase his own high once yours was over. He came within minutes after you did, overstimulating you as he filled you up.

“Good girl,” He panted, pressing kisses to your shoulder as you clung to him, exhausted. Your cum mixed, leaking out of you until he scooped it up, gently pushing it back into you as best as he could.

You groaned as he let you down, watching as you slumped down, breathing labored. His jaw was tight as he leaned over to grab his mask, startled when your hand stopped him. Neither of you spoke, your body stilled as you watched him with tired eyes. 

“I wasn’t… planning on leaving.” He muttered, voiced hoarse.

“Okay.” You nodded, allowing him to pull the blanket up your legs. “I’m sure you know where everything is.”

He breathed through his nose, a little embarrassed at the reminder.

“I know it, yeah. I’ll get you some water, ‘s that okay?”

You hummed in acknowledgement, letting him wander away.

You know he’d come back to you. You had no doubt.

fin.

[oscinhaslandito]

This Is About Oscar?! (OP81)

Summary: Y/n’s new song exposes a side of Oscar no one knew about.

Warnings: the whole thing is basically just about sex, language

y/nnn Surprise! 34+35 out tonight 💗

Comments:

oscarpiastri i think its pretty good

- y/nnn you only think that for one reason and we both know it

Liked by oscarpiastri

oscpastry guys… 34+35= 69……..

- mclarensgirly i fear we are getting the WHOLE story

- pieasstree YOU FEAR??? I WANNA KNOW

- mclarensgirly I MEAN ME TOO BUT HOW WILL WE LOOK BABY OSCAR IN THE EYE AFTER???

landonorris im scared oscar hasnt stopped smiling all day

- oscarpiastri what can i say? Its not everyday your girlfriend writes a song about you

- y/nnn babe youve heard the song im not sure you want to go broadcasting it that its abt you

- oscarpiastri are you kidding????? Of course i do

—

y/nnn 34+35 out now (oscar wanted me to make it known the song is about him 🤦🏼‍♀️)

Comments:

oscpastry THIS SONG??????? IS ABOUT?????? OSCAR PIASTRI?????? THE RACING DRIVER??????? FOR MCLAREN???

- mclarensgirly YEAH WTF ARE WE MISSING SOMETHING

- pieasstree “you drink it just like water, you say it taste like candy” WHO IS THIS MAN

oscarpiastri this is the best day of my life

- pastry81 i dont know who you even are anymore

- f1butmore-mclaren how did mclaren even sign off on this

- y/nnn its my music i choose what i release all that mattered was if oscar was comfortable (he was comfortable to a degree that was concerning)

- oscarpiastri real

landonorris most recent google search: “how to erase your memory and ability to hear and see” i can never look either of you in the eye anymore

- y/nnn I TOLD YOU NOT TO LISTEN TO IT

- landonorris I DIDNT THINK YOU WERE GOING TO TALK ABOUT MY TEAMMATE THAT GRAPHICALLY

- y/nnn thats your own fault then

—

Twitter Thread

pieasstree youre gonna tell me 34 35 is abt this man.

- oscpastry “even though im wifey you can hit it like a side chick” is dick whipped the correct term for this???

- mclarensgirly plz never say dick whipped again but yeah i believe so

- pieasstree WE ARE MOVING AWAY FROM THE MAIN TOPIC OF CONVO. HOW IS THIS ABOUT HIM. IT JUST DOESNT MAKE SENSE.

- oscarsmyfav i dont know what i was expecting from that song but “i know all your favorite spots, we can take it from the top, youre such a dream come true, make a bitch wanna hit snooze” WAS NOT IT.

- hisrookieseason “i dont wanna keep you up, but show me can you keep it up cause then ill have to keep it up” I HEARD THAT AND IT ALL MADE SENSE

- oscpastry YEAH LIKE NOW I UNDERSTAND WHY HES SO MELLOW ALL THE TIME ITS BC HES TIRED

- oscarpiastri never too tired tho

- pieasstree WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

- oscpastry AM I IN A DREAM THIS IS NOT THE OSCAR I KNOW???????

- y/nnn its the oscar i know…

- mclarensgirly WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS GOING ON HERE

- oscpastry im so scared rn but also SO intrigued

- pieasstree its the way theyre probably sitting next to each other and laughing at all of us distraught fans

- y/nnn hes very pleased with himself (👇🏻)

- pieasstree i rlly just dont understand how that man THAT BOY could cause an earthquake in bed as y/n said

- y/nnn trust me he could.

- oscarpiastri trust me i can and i have.

[oscinhaslandito]

Could you please write something with Lando when you’re Bradley Coopers daughter and you met Lando during an Grand Prix and have been dating for a few months and now it’s time for him too meet you’re dad for the first time and as you get ready you sense that he’s nervous you saw it on his face when you told him that you have a dinner at youre fathers house with him and his girlfriend Gigi. You’re dad wanted to meet him as soon as he found out that you dated someone but Lando had some grace period with the season but no that the season came to an end he has no other chance you’re not particularly concerned about you’re dad you told Lando as long as he doesn’t say anything against the Eagles he will be fine. Lando and you got caught up in a little make out session which almost ended in you being late. As it turns out Landos concerns where groundless after some introducings you’re dad gets dinner ready and god bless Gigi for being such an sweetheart for asking him questions about his family and F1 too get him comfortable. Later the evening when you talk with Gigi she tells you that if Lea and Khai get too meet him they will undoubtedly love him and you can’t help but smile you saw him with his nieces and it’s just too easy too imagine him with you’re sister and Gigi’s daughter it would be so much fun you tell her if they ever need an babysitter they know who to call and as you look at her bright grin you know that you probably got yourself in trouble there.Much love❤️

omg anon aaaaahhhhh this request is too good!!!!! omg i haven't had a request in so long also gurl the vision?? omg adorbs i hope this is what you were looking for. even took the day off from uni for ya (priorities💀). anyways hope you like it. i had so much fun writing it. enjoy!!♥♥

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader (y/n cooper, daughter of that bradley cooper) word count: 3.7k

The First Time She Met Him…

The sun was way too bright for someone who'd been up since 7 a.m. on a media tour. Y/N Cooper tugged her cap lower over her sunglasses as she slipped into the chaos of the paddock. Her dad was in Monaco for some actor-y event, and she’d somehow gotten talked into attending a Grand Prix. Alone. With zero idea what Formula One actually was besides “hot guys in fast cars.”

She wasn’t expecting the loud engines, the way the air buzzed with electricity, the sea of orange-clad fans holding up weird signs like “MCLANDO 4EVER” and “MARRY ME, NORRIS 😘.”

She definitely wasn’t expecting him.

Lando Norris — sweaty, grinning, race suit tied around his waist, curls an actual crime against humanity — nearly crashed into her while jogging toward the garage.

“Oh, sorry—! Didn’t see you there.”

She looked up, caught the breathless smile, blinked like a confused deer, and blurted, “You look like you’ve just finished running from the law.”

He laughed. Actually I laughed. “I mean… kinda. These engineers are scarier than Interpol.”

She had no clue what that meant, but his voice was warm and his eyes sparkled and—okay, damn it, she was interested.

“You’re American, huh?” he asked, tugging at the towel slung over his shoulder.

“You’re British, right?” she shot back. “We can both identify accents. Yay us.”

“Feisty. I like it.”

She tilted her head, clearly amused. “I’m not flirting with you. Just so we’re clear.”

“Shame,” he replied with a grin, “because I totally am.”

Weeks Later…

He DM’d her that same night. 

| didn’t get your name. not very gentlemanly of me.

She couldn’t believe the text he just sent.

| you’re literally dming me and you didn’t catch my name?real smooth dude.🙄 

Even with Lando’s rocky start, they started texting. Just casually. Memes turned into late-night calls. Her face lit up on his screen more often than not. It didn’t take long before she was sneaking into races just to see him. No paddock passes. No press. Just her in the background, always in a hoodie two sizes too big and a smirk that drove him insane.

It happened in Silverstone.

Not on the podium. Not in front of the fans. But in a back hallway behind the garage, just after he’d come P3. His race suit was zipped up to his waist, curls damp, energy buzzing through him like a live wire. She was waiting, leaned against a wall, arms crossed like she hadn’t been holding her breath the entire final lap.

He reached her in three strides and pulled her into a hug before she could even say hi.

“You were amazing,” she murmured into his shoulder.

“You came.”

“Wouldn’t miss it. Even if I’m still figuring out what different color flags mean.”

He chuckled, pulled back, looked at her like he was thinking too hard. She raised a brow. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking,” he started.

“Dangerous.”

“I want to call you my girlfriend.”

She blinked.

He panicked.

“I mean—not just call you that. I want you to be that. Like—would you be okay with that? With me? And the whole circus that comes with it? Because I don’t want this to be some casual, stupid thing. Not with you.”

Y/N stared at him. Long enough for him to shift uncomfortably and almost take it back.

But then she smiled. Soft, real, Hollywood-girl-in-love kind of smile.

“Lando Norris, are you asking me to go official behind the McLaren garage in a sweaty race suit?”

He flushed. “Yes?”

She pulled him in by the collar and kissed him.

“Good. Because I was getting very tired of calling you my ‘friend’ when my dad asks who I’m texting at 3 a.m.”

Cut to the present day…

Lando had known this day was coming — like a slow-approaching DRS zone you couldn’t avoid even if you slammed the brakes. Ever since Bradley Cooper had found out his daughter was dating someone, the clock had been ticking. Not loudly, not in an aggressive "I’m gonna kill him" kind of way — no, Bradley was too smooth for that. It was subtler. An arched brow when Y/N laughed at her phone. A pointed, “Is that him?” whenever Lando’s name popped up on the screen. The kind of tone that said I’m not mad. I just have questions. And maybe a shotgun.

Lando had been given a temporary grace period, courtesy of the relentless F1 calendar. Races, press, simulator work — all valid, all real, all conveniently spread out across continents that made meeting your girlfriend’s Oscar-nominated father logistically... complicated. But now, with the season over and the last trophy handed out, Lando had run out of places to hide.

“You’ll be fine,” Y/N had said, curled up next to him on the couch, legs tangled with his like it was the most natural thing in the world. “He’s chill. I swear. Just don’t say anything bad about the Eagles, and you’ll survive.”

Lando had blinked at her. “The band?”

She laughed so hard she almost fell off the couch. “The football team, Norris. Philadelphia Eagles. You slander them, you die.”

So, here they were, getting ready for potentially the most important dinner of Lando’s life.

The bathroom mirror reflected Y/N’s focus as she adjusted her dress for the fifth time, a leopard print that hugged her figure in all the right ways, falling just below the knee. She was so casually stunning that it was borderline unfair. Her hair was in soft waves, effortless like she didn’t care that every strand seemed to fall exactly how it should. It wasn’t even the dress that had Lando’s blood rushing; it was the way she moved — the little twirl of her fingers as she checked her lipstick in the mirror, the way her eyes fluttered as she brushed a stray hair behind her ear.

Lando, who was just in the other room pulling on his jacket, couldn’t help but watch. He knew he was being a little obvious, but honestly, at this point, he was beyond trying to hide it. He was looking at her like she was some kind of magic. Like the universe decided to throw all its best creations into one person, and she was standing there in front of him.

She turned, catching him staring, and gave him a playful raise of her eyebrow.

"What?" she asked, her voice low, teasing.

He blinked rapidly like he’d been caught in some forbidden act. "Nothing, just... you look..." He paused. Couldn’t quite get the words out. "Incredible."

Her lips curled into a smile. “You think so?”

His eyes darted down to her lips before snapping back up to her eyes. “I think... I think I’m gonna have a hard time leaving this room.”

Her smile faltered for a second, a flash of mischief dancing behind her gaze. “Oh? How come?”

He stepped closer, his lips twitching like he was trying not to smile himself. “Because this,” he gestured to her, his hand hovering like it wanted to reach out but was fighting the urge, “is pretty much everything I’ve ever wanted in front of me.”

Y/N’s breath hitched just a little. Lando, the world-famous race car driver, was standing in front of her, looking at her like she was the only thing that mattered, and... God, did it make her heart skip.

Before she could respond, he closed the distance between them, his hand brushing against her waist, and suddenly the air felt thick, like a storm was brewing but neither of them was willing to acknowledge it.

“Baby... we’re gonna be late,” she murmured, her voice thick with something else.

But it was too late.

He kissed her. Just one simple, gentle kiss that felt like an electric jolt to the chest. No more words, no more hesitation — just a soft brush of lips that made everything else feel unimportant. But it didn’t stop there. His hand slid around her waist, pulling her closer, his lips pressing a little harder against hers, and God, he couldn’t stop himself. The tension, that irresistible, magnetic pull between them was too much.

Y/N didn’t try to pull away either. In fact, she melted into him, her fingers trailing up his chest as she deepened the kiss, a slight hum of pleasure escaping her throat. It was just a kiss, just one... but it felt like so much more.

Her hand slid up to his neck, her nails lightly grazing the skin beneath his shirt, sending a shiver down his spine. He gripped her tighter, his lips moving against hers with urgency, the sound of their kissing soft in the otherwise quiet room. They weren’t thinking about the dinner, or Gigi Hadid waiting, or Bradley Cooper being possibly the most intimidating man to meet — all they cared about was the magnetic connection they couldn’t pull away from.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavy, faces flushed, eyes wide.

"Okay," she said between breaths, “I guess we really can’t be late now, can we?”

Lando let out a breathy laugh. “That was your fault,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

“Me? You’re the one who couldn’t keep his hands off me!” she shot back with a grin.

Y/N stood at the bathroom mirror again, now less goddess and more hot mess — her lipstick was thoroughly smudged, her gloss gone rogue, and her once-perfect curls? One side was doing some tragic post-make-out limp thing. She gasped when she caught sight of herself.

“Lando Norris, look what you did to me!”

From behind her, he leaned in, arms circling her waist, chin resting on her shoulder like he hadn’t just spent the last five minutes being an absolute menace to society. His smile was shameless.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, lips brushing her neck.

She slapped his hand away with a huff, trying to stay focused as she reached for her makeup bag. “No. No. I’m not showing up to dinner with Gigi Hadid looking like I just rolled out of your bed.”

“I mean... we could just go back to bed,” he offered, nuzzling into her neck again, the audacity of this man. “Reschedule. Rain check. I’ll email Gigi. Or DM. Something professional.”

Y/N groaned, dabbing at her mouth with a makeup wipe. “You’re lucky you’re hot.”

He grinned. “So are you. Devastatingly.”

She tried to reapply her lipstick with trembling fingers, his hands now casually wandering — purely innocent, totally coincidental contact, obviously. She looked at him through the mirror.

“You touch my hips one more time and I swear we’re going to be fashionably late in a way that involves me fake texting my dad ‘Sorry, food poisoning.’”

He looked unbothered. “He’d probably understand. We can tell him it was shellfish. Or my fault.”

“It is your fault!”

“Exactly. And wouldn’t it be tragic,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of her ear, “if you ruined that beautiful dress... in bed?”

She froze mid-mascara.

“Lando Norris, we’re meeting my father in twenty minutes!”

He leaned in, smirking, voice low and cocky, “I can work fast.”

She groaned again, turning around and pushing him back toward the bedroom door, palm on his chest. “Out. Out. Out. I need ten uninterrupted minutes to de-sexify myself.”

“Impossible,” he said with a wink, holding his hands up in surrender but walking backward out of the bathroom like he was being dragged away by security. “You can’t turn off that kind of hot.”

She shut the door in his face. “Go iron your shirt, menace.”

They were a little late, but they didn’t care. Lando kissed her one more time, just a quick peck, before taking her hand, leading her to the door. Because no matter how much time they lost to their tension, they knew they’d never regret that stolen moment.

Lando was driving, hands suspiciously steady on the wheel considering the absolute chaos they’d just escaped from. Y/N sat beside him, legs crossed tightly, trying not to spiral. Her lipstick had been fixed, her hair re-curled in record time, and she’d even managed to touch up her highlighter like a pro. But her neck still had that faint heat to it, and every time she glanced in the mirror, she swore she could see kiss aftermath energy radiating off her.

And Lando? This man was way too smug for someone about to meet Bradley freaking Cooper.

“You good?” he asked, not looking at her, but with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“You nearly made us an hour late,” she hissed, smoothing down her dress for the third time. “I have setting powder in my cleavage right now, Lando.”

He chuckled, soft and low. “Worth it.”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered, cheeks still warm.

As they turned into the long, absurdly elegant driveway of the Cooper residence — and yes, it had an actual gate code, she entered it like she’d done it a thousand times before — the nerves really hit her. Gigi’s car was already parked outside. There were lights on inside. People were home.

Lando, suddenly a little less cocky, sat up straighter. He ran a hand through his hair and glanced at her.

“Okay. Just to confirm — no trash talk about the Eagles. Anything else I should avoid?”

Y/N turned to him, deadpan. “No, just keep talking good about them. And for the love of God, don’t flirt with Gigi accidentally, because she’s genetically engineered to be ethereal and you have no self-control.”

He looked mildly offended. “I have some self-control.”

She arched a brow. “You tried to seduce me with my own lipstick fifteen minutes ago.”

He grinned again, looking out the window. “Okay, fair.”

The car stopped.

Silence.

They sat there for a beat too long. Y/N let out a breath. “Ready?”

Lando nodded, but his voice was soft. “I just really want him to like me.”

And suddenly she wasn’t teasing anymore. She reached over, squeezing his hand.

“He’ll like you,” she said, voice gentler. “Because I love you.”

Their eyes met. He gave a tiny smile — the real kind, the one that didn’t try to be cool or cocky. “Okay. Let’s go meet the legend.”

They stepped out of the car, the night air cool against their skin. Y/N fixed the collar of his shirt like a mom at a school recital and whispered one last thing as they reached the door.

“If he asks why we were late…”

“Traffic,” Lando nodded seriously.

“Heavy traffic.”

“Like, six-car-pileup levels.”

The door swung open to reveal Bradley Cooper in the most Bradley Cooper fit possible — soft grey henley, navy joggers, barefoot, holding a wine glass like he was both the host and the afterparty. Behind him, Gigi Hadid padded into view in what could only be described as a cloud disguised as a cashmere matching set. Her hair was in a bun, she looked like a Pinterest board, and somehow she glowed. Disrespectful.

“You two are late,” Bradley said, raising an eyebrow and a glass in greeting. “Traffic?”

Lando, trying to be on his best behavior, nodded with all the sincerity of a man absolutely not thinking about making out in the hallway mirror ten minutes ago. “Yes, sir. Bad traffic. All the way through Beverly Hills.”

“Brutal,” Bradley said, already turning and walking back into the house like he was just commenting on the weather. “We started without you. Hope you don’t mind.”

Gigi waved. “Hey Y/N. Hey Lando. I opened the merlot. Your dad’s on glass number two, so you’re probably safe for the next hour.”

Y/N laughed, shooting Lando a see? told you so look as they stepped into the house. Lando was taking it all in — the modern decor, the subtle Oscar shelf in the corner (casual), the vintage guitars on the wall. It was the kind of house that said “I’ve made it,” but also “I surf sometimes.”

Bradley gestured to the living room. “Make yourselves at home. Food’s on the way. I ordered from that Chinese place you like, Y/N. I figured I’d play nice.”

Y/N grinned, flopping onto the couch like she owned the place. Lando sat next to her, just a little too upright.

“So, Lando,” Bradley said, sitting opposite them and crossing one ankle over his knee. “You any good at darts?”

Lando blinked. “Uh, yeah? I mean, I’m decent—"

“Great. Loser does the dishes.”

Y/N cackled as Gigi passed Lando a glass of wine and patted his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. He’s just messing with you. Also, he’s really bad at darts.”

Lando finally exhaled a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding and leaned back into the couch, letting his fingers brush against Y/N’s. Okay. He could do this. It wasn’t a formal dinner. No speeches, no glares. Just darts, good Chinese food, and the coolest dad in America casually evaluating if his daughter’s boyfriend was worthy.

“So,” Bradley said, sipping his wine with a smirk, “tell me, Lando. Do you follow the Eagles?”

The conversation flows smoothly. But, turns out Lando’s really bad at hand eye coordination.

Dinner had arrived in sleek, eco-friendly takeout containers, all artfully arranged like a lifestyle blog photo. 

As it turns out, Lando’s nerves were wildly overestimated. His deep-rooted, soul-consuming panic about disappointing Bradley Cooper evaporated somewhere between his even worse skills than himself and the dad jokes that he was cracking.

Y/N was already stealing bites from Lando’s plate like it was her birthright, and Bradley was elbow-deep in Kung Pao chicken, cracking one-liners like he was hosting Hot Ones.

But it was Gigi — ethereal, barefoot, sipping her wine like a goddess — who really set the tone.

“So, Lando,” she began, propping her chin on her hand, “Y/N tells me, you have a brother and two sisters, right? Does your family still live in the UK?”

Lando blinked, slightly stunned by the fact that Gigi Hadid knew about him. “Yeah! Yeah, they’re back in the UK. We moved around a bit when I was a kid, but—uh, yeah.”

Gigi smiled. “I watched Drive to Survive. You’re quite funny.”

Lando flushed slightly, a small grin spreading across his face. “Thank you.”

Bradley glanced at Gigi with a smirk. “She did her homework. She’s been prepping for this dinner like it’s a Vogue cover story.”

“I just don’t want him to feel like he’s being grilled,” Gigi shrugged, passing Lando the bottle of wine like they were old friends. “F1’s intense enough.”

Y/N beamed. She squeezed Lando’s knee under the table, and his hand instinctively found hers, giving it a gentle squeeze back. His shoulders had dropped a full inch since they walked through the door. The tension in his jaw? Gone. The panicked thoughts of “what if he hates me” and “what if I accidentally say Verstappen instead of Eagles” were now replaced with “I think Bradley Cooper just laughed at my joke” and “Gigi Hadid thinks I’m cool.”

By the time dessert — a chocolate cake that had zero business being that good — rolled around, Lando was chatting away about life on the paddock, what team meetings were like, and the chaotic energy of being on the road nine months out of the year.

Bradley was listening. Gigi was sipping. Y/N was glowing.

“You know,” Bradley said, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “I get it now.”

Lando raised a brow, fork still mid-air. “Get what?”

“Why she likes you,” Bradley said, totally casual, like he was commenting on the weather. “Takes someone pretty grounded to survive that world and still be this… decent.”

And just like that, Lando’s brain short-circuited.

Y/N smiled into her water glass, pretending she wasn’t melting from how soft Lando looked at that moment.

“Also helps that you didn’t talk crap about the Eagles,” Bradley added with a wink.

The dinner plates were stacked, the wine glasses gathered, and soft jazz floated through the living room as Y/N and Gigi slipped into the kitchen with practiced ease. It was a quiet sort of comfort — the kind that came from shared girlhood and a few glasses of very good red.

Gigi hummed as she rinsed a plate, tossing a grin Y/N’s way.

“So… he’s kind of perfect.”

Y/N snorted, leaning against the counter with a sponge in one hand and a dopey smile on her face. “He’s really not. He leaves socks everywhere and eats spring rolls at 1 a.m. like it’s a religion.”

“Okay, but still,” Gigi said, nudging her hip. “You hit the jackpot. He’s sweet, respectful, clearly obsessed with you — and did you see the way he handled your dad?”

Y/N let out a laugh. “Handled is a strong word. He nearly combusted when Dad brought up the Eagles.”

Gigi smiled, more fond than amused. “He’s a good one, Y/N. If Lea and Khai ever get to meet him… oh, those girls would adore him.”

That stopped Y/N in her tracks — not in a dramatic way, just enough to let it sink in. She had seen it before: Lando crouching down to sign little race flags, letting tiny fans try on his cap, giving his niece piggyback rides around the garden. And now she was picturing it again — this time with her baby sister giggling on his shoulders, and Khai braiding daisies into his curls while he pretended he was being held hostage.

She blinked back the soft rush of warmth.

“They’d love him,” she said, quieter this time. “And honestly… if you ever need a babysitter, you know who to call. Lando’s a total natural.”

Gigi raised a brow. “Not you?”

Y/N laughed, handing her the last plate. “Me too. But you’ve seen that man’s face — if he asked a toddler to do a backflip, they’d try.”

Gigi giggled, flicking water at her. “So true. He’s got the Disney prince effect.”

Out in the living room, Bradley’s voice rang out.

“Norris! You can’t leave until I win one round, man. I don’t care if it takes all night!”

Lando’s laugh followed, warm and boyish and entirely at home.

Y/N and Gigi shared a look. No words. Just one of those girl-to-girl, I-see-you kind of glances.And in that moment, with the sink full of bubbles and their hearts full of something even warmer, Y/N realized… maybe she had hit the jackpot after all.

guys reqs are always open!! please feel free to drop one for your favorite driver. always happy to write♥♥

[oscinhaslandito]

MINI MCLAREN MAYHEM

pairings: lando norris x reader word count: 1.87k

Friday mornings on race weekends were always a little less chaotic than usual. Free Practice meant Lando wasn’t in full send mode just yet —just warm-up vibes, some light teasing from his engineers, and time to breathe.

And this Friday morning? He was floating. Because today… he had Pearl, his two year old menace of a daughter.

Y/N had dressed her while Lando was in the shower. When he stepped out, toweling his curls, he found his daughter toddling around the hotel room, swaddled in a hoodie that made her look like a tiny marshmallow.

The tiny girl stood in front of the mirror, wobbling slightly in her socks, swaddled in a hoodie so oversized it practically doubled as a sleeping bag. The hoodie was sky blue, bright and cheerful and unmistakably part of Lando’s Quadrant collection for kids. His own name in bold white letters across the back. And his logo, loud and proud, right beneath it.

“Pearl,” he said, squinting. “What’re you—wait. WAIT A MINUTE.”

“NOOOO. NO STOP. I’M ACTUALLY GONNA CRY,” he said, dropping the towel like a dramatic soap opera lead. “WHAT. IS THIS. FIT.”

Pearl blinked up at him and said, “I Dadda,” very seriously.

Lando dropped to his knees like he’d just seen a religious vision. “No. No. NO WAY. Who did this? WHO LET THIS HAPPEN?” he shouted dramatically.

Y/N walked in with a coffee in hand, looking far too calm for the chaos unfolding. “I dressed her,” she said, sipping. “We’re going out in a bit, and she wanted to wear it. Said it’s her ‘special Dadda shirt.’”

Lando made a noise that was somewhere between a squeal and a sob. He picked up Pearl instantly, holding her under the arms with the reverence of someone handling ancient treasure. “You’re a genius,” he whispered to Y/N. “And this hoodie is the best thing I’ve ever made. Pearl, baby, you look ICONIC.”

Pearl giggled and clapped her hands, hoodie sleeves flopping like noodles.

You could physically hear Lando’s heart combust. “You’re not just my daughter,” he whispered, scooping her up. “You’re my brand ambassador.”

“Babe, you’ve got like—” she checked her phone “—forty-five minutes before you have to be at the garage.”

“I’m taking her,” Lando said instantly. “I don’t care,it's just Free Practice. I’m walking in with her like she owns the grid.”

“You’re not bringing her out like a championship trophy, Lando—”

“Oh but I am.”

Cue McLaren garage. Late morning. Coffee cups in mechanics’ hands, soft background chatter, engineers going over setups—business as usual.

Until Lando walked in.

Wearing his race suit (unzipped and tied around his waist), carrying Pearl in his arms like a prize-winning squash.

“Gentlemen,” he announced, standing in the middle of the garage, “may I present: THE FUTURE OF THIS TEAM.”

And that’s when it happened.

Without a second thought—without warning—before anyone could question his sanity, Lando lifted her high above his head, straight-up Simba style.

“LOOK AT HER,” he declared. “MY CHILD. WEARING. MY. MERCH!”

The entire garage froze. Then someone snorted. And then another mechanic just straight up lost it. A few people clapped. One guy might’ve saluted.

Zak Brown popped his head out from behind a screen like “what the hell is going on—OH.”

Y/N, trailing behind, was instantly 400 levels of stress. “Lando!” she yelped, half-laughing, half-panicking. “Can you please not Simba our child?! What if you drop her?”

Lando lowered Pearl just enough to flash his wife a grin. “Don’t worry. She’s got that Norris grip strength.”

Pearl, still suspended mid-air, flailed her little legs. “Upsies! Again!”

“She’s repping the brand, babe!” he said proudly. “Look at the hoodie. LOOK AT IT. It’s iconic.”

“She’s two.”

“She’s a model.”

Pearl giggled and patted his cheeks with her sleeve-covered hands. “Again, Dadda. Up again.”

“Oh no,” Y/N groaned. “You’ve created a monster.”

“Correction,” Lando said, kissing his daughter’s forehead. “I’ve created a mascot.”

Later that afternoon, after Lando had done his laps, changed out of his race suit, and inhaled a concerning number of snacks from the hospitality tent, he was back in the garage—with Pearl right where she belonged.

On his hip. Like the clingiest, cutest sloth you’ve ever seen.

Y/N sat off to the side, watching with mild horror as her husband gave their 2-year-old a full tour of a literal Formula 1 garage like it was Disneyland. “And this,” he said, crouching beside his car, “is where Dadda sits when he goes super fast.”

Pearl gasped like she’d just seen a unicorn. “So shinyyy!” she said, touching the halo with her mitten-sized hand.

“Yeah,” Lando grinned. “Shiny and speedy. Like you when you steal Mum’s phone.”

Just then, Oscar Piastri walked in, paused mid-step, and blinked at the sight before him. “Uh. Why is there a child next to the car. Is that legal?”

“She’s MY child,” Lando huffed. “And she's clearly part of the engineering department. She’s giving feedback.”

Pearl pointed to the wheel. “Car go vroom!” she declared.

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Well, she’s not wrong.”

“See? Genius,” Lando smirked. “We’re hiring her full-time. She starts next Tuesday. Gotta lock her down before Red Bull gets to her.”

Y/N called from the side, “Please don’t give Helmut Marko any ideas!”

Lando lifted Pearl into the air again—less Simba, more airplane mode this time—and zoomed her over to the cockpit like weeeeeeeeee.

“Baby,” Y/N warned, standing up, “don’t even think about—”

Too late.

Pearl was now in the car.

Sitting in the cockpit. Hoodie bunched up, legs too short to reach anything, arms spread wide like she was about to take flight.

Lando crouched in front of her, wide-eyed with pride. “...She looks so natural in there. I’m gonna cry.”

Oscar leaned against a wall, shaking his head. “She’s already got a better seat fit than half the grid.”

Pearl grabbed the steering wheel, made a vroom sound, pressing all the buttons, then loudly went: “BEEEEEP!”

The mechanics—who were supposed to be working—absolutely lost it.

Y/N buried her face in her hands. “She’s gonna think she actually drove that car, isn’t she?”

“She’s gonna think she won a Grand Prix,” Lando said proudly. “As she should.”

Eventually, Pearl got tuckered out from all the imaginary racing and was scooped up into Y/N’s arms, hoodie sleeves now stained with garage dust and snacks.

Lando kissed her cheek and whispered, “You did great today, little driver.”

Pearl blinked sleepily. “Car go vroom.”

He smiled. “Yeah, baby. Car definitely go vroom.”

The garage was still buzzing from the morning practice session, but the real work was starting now. Lando was seated in the McLaren briefing room, headset on, discussing track strategy with his engineers. His race engineer was in full-on “game plan” mode, listing off tire choices and adjustments to the car's balance.

Lando was nodding, but his eyes kept drifting to the door—more specifically, to the tiny figure standing in the doorway, peeking around it with wide eyes.

“Okay, Lando, we’ve got a lot to focus on here. Tire management, turn 12 braking points, strategy for—”

“Wait.” Lando held up a finger, eyes still locked on the door. “One sec, guys.”

The engineers exchanged confused glances. “Uh… Lando?”

And then, as if she were on a mission, Pearl made her move.

Tiny feet padded into the room, a little determined waddle in her sky blue hoodie, the LN logo bouncing with each step.

“PEARL,” Lando groaned, already starting to chuckle. “Not now, baby girl.”

Pearl, on a mission, continued her march forward with the seriousness of someone heading to war. The team looked back at Lando, raising an eyebrow.

“She’s… going to the briefing room?” one engineer whispered.

“I don’t know what’s happening right now,” Lando said, still half-laughing, half-panicking, but in a good way.

Pearl’s eyes found her target: Lando’s legs. And with the speed of a Formula 1 car, she launched herself toward him.

“Dadda! UP!” she announced, arms outstretched, determined to climb onto his lap.

Lando, who was supposed to be in focus mode, immediately dropped the headset and scooped her up. “Oh, you’re really doing this, huh?”

“Car go vroom,” Pearl said, smacking her hands on the table in front of him like she was trying to take over the strategy meeting.

Y/N appeared in the doorway just then, her hand over her mouth to hide a smile. “Lando, she’s—”

“Shh!” Lando whispered, holding Pearl against him. “This is important business.”

“Important business?” one engineer asked, blinking at the tiny human in his lap. “That’s the boss right there.”

Pearl, having zero concept of actual strategy, proceeded to press every single button on Lando’s tablet in front of him. The tire strategy? Gone. The fuel calculations? Gone.

“Uh, Lando…” one of the engineers started nervously. “We need that back.”

But it was no use. Pearl had claimed her space. She was making important decisions by tapping away at the screen like a mini tech mogul.

“No one’s getting through this meeting unless we address this first,” Lando grinned, motioning to Pearl’s impromptu takeover of his lap. “I’m telling you, she’s gonna be running the team by next season.”

“Lando, please,” Y/N groaned, walking over to them. “She’s two.”

“She’s a future team principal,” he argued back, completely lost in his daughter’s antics. “Can’t you see the vision, babe?”

As the strategy meeting continued, Lando spent the next several minutes trying to listen while also comforting Pearl, who had climbed halfway onto the table and was now trying to rip the screen protector off his tablet. Meanwhile, Y/N gave him the look—a mix of “I love you but what are you doing” and “I am going to deal with this later.”

But then, without warning, Pearl turned to the engineers and said with all the seriousness in the world:

“Go fast!”

And the whole room erupted in laughter.

“Alright,” Lando said, chuckling as he glanced at the engineers. “Pearl says we go fast. That’s the strategy.”

The engineers all nodded, visibly trying to suppress their grins. “Got it, boss,” one of them said, completely deadpan. “Go fast. We’ll make that happen.”

Lando leaned back in his chair, looking down at Pearl, who was now happily playing with a race radio. “See? They get it.”

Y/N just shook her head, but she couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the two of them—father and daughter, utterly unbothered by the seriousness of the situation.

And as the antics of the day sporaled down, Lando stayed in the garage a little longer than usual—Pearl still in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder, the soft blue of her hoodie a tiny pop of calm in the buzz of race prep.

She didn’t know what DRS was. She couldn’t tell a slick from an intermediate. But she knew one thing for sure: she was safe, warm, and with her daddy—who just so happened to be the biggest goofball on the grid.

And as they packed up and headed back to the hotel, Pearl snoozing in Y/N’s arms, Lando looked over at them and thought, Yep. This is the podium that actually matters.

[oscinhaslandito]

aaaaaahhhh i love cozy fics!!!!

That Kind Of Day - OP81

@oscinhaslandito prompt request #7 - "I'm going to be productive today." "You know that means you have to get out of bed?"

Summary: Sometimes days start with a plan and sometimes boyfriend's can convince us to deviate from that plan.

Word count: 703

The day after getting back from Jeddah was used as a good excuse to just relax and chill out. But usually y/n likes to be productive the day following, catch up on house chores, do laundry, appreciate living in Monaco by going out and enjoying the surroundings.

"I love being home and being active and productive all the time. But I really don't want to get out of bed with you." Y/n groans as Oscar lies on top of her keeping her pinned down under his weight.

And with Oscar not saying anything they both just remain there and y/n even drifts off asleep again making him smirk while he lies with his head on her chest as he scrolls through his phone just enjoying the peace and quiet while y/n's heart thuds in his ear.

Eventually she jumps awake clearly unaware that she'd even fallen asleep again.

"You ok?" Oscar asks in amusement while y/n groans shifting as if she's trying to escape being underneath him.

"I'm going to be productive today." Y/n states as she yawns and stretches her arms out with a groan.

"You know that means you have to get out of bed?" Oscar chuckles while y/n laughs a little since they both seem to have decided y/n just isn't getting out of bed for the day to do everything she wanted to do for the day.

"Getting out of bed just doesn't feel possibly right now. Not when I have the equivalent of a dead body refusing to move from on top of me."

"I'm not apologise or moving if that's what you're hinting for. You have no idea how comfortable you are to lie on, but nothing competes." Oscar states making it clear that he doesn't intend to move even an inch until he's ready.

Y/n sort of just accepts her fate and wiggles an arm free to hug around him a little and rub his back between his shoulders.

"I love you and how you enable me to be lazy and just allow it." Y/n smiles as her hand moves up to play with his hair which is definitely in it's freshly awoken fluffy state which is always the nicest state for it to be in for her to play with. Nothing better than playing with your boyfriend's hair during a lazy day.

"I love you and the fact you're not really making the effort to move me at all to get on with what you said you wanted to do today." Oscar smirks, though his expression is out of her view she can just hear it in his voice.

And that's how they spend the day, just lying together. Though eventually they do run out of their bedside table water supply and both of them have to go to the toilet with their bladders about to give out. Especially y/n's with the weight of Oscar on top of her.

"Tomorrow I will be productive. No pinning me down."

"I'll be productive with you so you're not doing any of it on your own." Oscar promises as they both move to actually brush their teeth since not even that basic task had been done and they both realised once they were up that it was kind of gross.

"But today what just one of those days that was kind of perfect. I can't lie." Y/n smiles while Oscar smiles leaning over to spit into the sink quickly rinsing off any residue toothpaste before he pulls her closer and kisses her cheek with wet lips.

"It's always perfect with you." Oscar states reassuringly. "So it's just gone...5pm. What are having for our first meal of the day?"

"I think...something healthy so we can have the same thing and you are sticking with the driver diet." Y/n sighs as she returns the gesture of a kiss to the side of his face. "Thank you. I think I really needed a day of proper rest."

"Completely unintentional but I'm glad you got what you needed from it." Oscar smiles then patting her ass gently to get her moving. "Let's go get something healthy to eat then."

[oscinhaslandito]

…so they smoke weed and have crazy sex

[oscinhaslandito]

Other handshakes I would like for them to try:

[oscinhaslandito]

Hi I don't know if ur taking requests rn but I have an idea for a teacher au with Lando x reader where they're both teaching at the same secondary/high schl and they're together and try to keep it secret but like all the students know cuz they're so blatantly obviously in love with each other and they're like the most shipped couple by all their students. U can choose what subject lando teaches to match reader being a bio teacher but personally I get PE teacher vibes from Lando and I fee like that works rlly well. Hope u have a grt day sorry about the long request love ur work sm especially the Berlin Wall one recently it was so so good hoping to see something historical like that again if u feel like it 🫶

Miss and Mister Norris?

Summary: You teach biology. He teaches PE. You’re secretly dating. The students? Not fooled for a second.

PE!Teacher!Lando x Biology!Teacher!Reader

Genre: fluff, humorous

TW: None!

A/N: that’s such a cool idea! Thank you for the request! Also glad to see that my stories have such an impact on you guys 🥹 love ya!

Navigation

To be fair, you tried to keep it secret.

When you and Lando started dating—accidentally, clumsily, falling into it after weeks of lingering glances in the staffroom and hallway flirting that made the other teachers groan—you made a pact.

No touching at school.

No glances that lasted longer than five seconds.

Absolutely no kissing on school grounds.

And for the love of all things professional: no calling each other “babe.”

It lasted… about three days.

Because you forgot that teenagers have one major hobby: spying on adults and making up elaborate love stories.

So it started small.

One of your Year 9 students raised her hand during class and went, “Miss… is it true you and Mr. Norris had coffee together in the staffroom this morning and he gave you the last custard cream?”

You blinked. “What? That’s not a—this is a biology lesson. Focus, Amira.”

The class erupted in giggles.

It only got worse from there.

Lando, bless him, was not built for secrecy.

He was the kind of PE teacher who roller-skated through the halls to get to class on time. Who high-fived every student whether they liked it or not. Who wore sunglasses indoors and called Year 11 boys “mate” while casually ruining their pride in dodgeball.

He was sunshine in human form.

You were… you. Slightly more serious, slightly more cautious, and head of the biology department.

The only thing you two had in common?

The fact that every student knew you were head over heels for each other.

“I swear to God,” Lando whispered one Thursday morning as you passed each other in the hall, “a Year 10 just fake-fainted in front of me and asked if I’d carry her to you like a princess so you’d finally kiss me.”

You burst out laughing. “Did you?”

“I almost did.”

“Lando!”

“What?” he smirked. “We’ve already lost control of the narrative. At this point I’m just giving the people what they want.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart fluttered.

Your students had theories.

“She’s secretly married to him.”

“They had their first kiss in the science cupboard.”

“I bet he carries her homework to the staffroom.”

“Miss is totally wearing his hoodie under her blazer, watch.”

Every time you walked past a group of students, they’d not-so-subtly hum romantic music.

One day, Lando walked into the biology wing and a group of Year 10 girls literally applauded.

“Why?” he asked, laughing.

“Because you’ve set the bar for love,” one said dramatically, clutching her heart.

You facepalmed.

The real chaos happened during Parent-Teacher Night.

You’d both been assigned different classrooms, but somehow, the news had spread. Parents were curious. Students had told them.

You and Lando, the school’s ultimate ship.

So when a parent sat across from you and asked, with a perfectly straight face, “Do you and Mr. Norris have any, uh… joint lesson plans?”—you blinked. She winked. You choked on your tea.

Lando later told you a dad asked if he was planning to propose on Sports Day.

“I mean,” Lando shrugged, “if I had a ring, that would’ve been iconic.”

You stared. “Lando.”

“What?”

“Don’t even joke about proposing at Sports Day.”

“You say that, but—”

“Lando.”

The students started a petition to get you both to chaperone prom.

It wasn’t subtle.

The heading read:

“Let the Power Couple Supervise Love”

It had 273 signatures.

Lando framed it.

“I want this at our wedding,” he grinned.

You threw a textbook at him. Gently.

Still, despite the teasing, the matchmaking, and the relentless obsession from your students, no one really saw the quiet moments.

The hand on your lower back when he walked past.

The soft murmurs exchanged behind the gym.

The way he waited outside your classroom with a smoothie when you were too stressed to eat lunch.

The way you straightened his tie when no one was watching.

And at the end of every long, exhausting, love-soaked day…

You’d curl up on the couch at home, tangled in his hoodie, grading papers while he threw Skittles into your mug and made up songs about mitochondria just to make you laugh.

One afternoon, just before the Easter holidays, you were walking past the art block when you overheard it.

Two Year 12 girls were painting a mural, gossiping about teacher crushes.

One said, “Honestly, if Mr. Norris doesn’t marry Miss Y/L/N, I’m never believing in love again.”

The other nodded. “He looks at her like she invented oxygen.”

You paused.

Smiled.

And for the first time, didn’t correct them.

One Week Later

You and Lando were walking hand-in-hand through a garden centre over the break, hot drinks in one hand, plans for summer in the other, when Lando stopped suddenly.

He turned to you.

“I know we said we’d wait,” he said.

You frowned. “Wait for what?”

He reached into his jacket.

He kneeled down.

Pulled out a ring.

Your heart stopped.

“Lando—”

“It’s not for Sports Day,” he grinned. “I promise.”

You laughed. Then cried.

And when you whispered yes, the girl from the cashier counter whispered to her colleague, “Oh my God, that’s Mr. and Miss Norris! They finally did it!”

You walked into class Monday morning.

Sat on your desk.

Smiled at your students.

“Alright,” you said. “Let’s talk genetics. Specifically… why your favorite PE teacher might become your favorite biology teacher’s husband.”

The room exploded.

Someone screamed.

Someone dropped their pen.

Someone shouted, “WE KNEW IT!”

And in the classroom next door?

Lando fist-bumped the air.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hmma3 , @same1995, @amatswimming, @llando4norris, @dr3wstarkey, @hurtblossom, @ernegren, @esposamultifandom, @darleneslane

[oscinhaslandito]

Oscar : This food is too hot... I cant eat it. Lando : You’re very hot, and I still eat you. Everyone at the table: *silence* Charles : YOU GUYS ARE DISGUSTING! George: One dinner... I just want ONE DINNER!

[oscinhaslandito]

this the kinda f1 content i crave

please go watch this video if you're interested it's so good

made by @gowoorii !!

[oscinhaslandito]

Meet Petty & Sarcastic - LN

@oscinhaslandito prompt request #26 - "This is fun." "If this is fun then watching paint dry must be thrilling."

Summary: They don't argue often but when they do it tends to get petty and sarcastic.

Warnings/themes: Lowkey talk to each other like they hate each other but they really don't, I promise, moody/bitchy (we all been there)!reader

Word count: 788

Lando had been able to tell from the way the day started that y/n was in an argumentative mood and while he usually tries to dodge provoking her when she's in these moods because rarely does he come out the victor.

Y/n has a mouth on her and she is also admittedly the smarter and wittier of the two so if Lando tries to outsmart her or outwit her then he goes into it knowing he's already lost.

Today for some unknown reason he was feeling cocky.

A mistake but he seemed to decide it was worth the risk.

So they've been arguing all day, not the whole time and they're not shouting and verbally attacking each other back and forth.

It's more of a passive aggressive atmosphere, but thankfully Lando has to do some sim work and when it finally sinks in that he maybe shouldn't have started something he couldn't finish.

"Are you done being pouty?"

"Are you done being a dickhead?"

That's a no then. Though Lando is ready to stop being a dickhead he knows she's asking rhetorically and it translates to "go away".

Lando sighs knowing that he will have to make it right because had he not have been in feeling to provoking when he noticed her mood then she wouldn't be like this.

Instead of leaving her alone he sits with her as she tries to find something to watch, apparently with no success since 10 minutes pass and she's yet to choose something to watch.

"This is fun." Lando comments eventually but she immediately shoots back with some thoughts.

"If this is fun then watching paint dry must be thrilling." Y/n states while Lando smirks a little which she sees out the corner of her eye and shakes her head. "Stop."

"I'm not doing anything." Lando shrugs as his more sarcastic side starts to surface. "Thank god you're not overreacting-Ah that was heavy."

Y/n shrugs with her own smirk of victory over the fact that she hit him in the arm with some pretty spot on precision with a water bottle.

"You know...you can just tell me when you're on your period." Lando grumbles rubbing his arm then flinching when he sees her grab at a cushion. "Alright alright! I'm sorry."

"Yeah you better be." Y/n huffs before Lando finally rolls his eyes and opens his arms.

"Will you just being so stubborn and just get over here? I know the whole reason you're being bitchy is because you just want to be coddled and we both know it." Lando states while she looks at him with a deadpanned expression.

Y/n seems to take the pettier route of just ignoring him, mainly because he is right on this occasion. She is on her period and while in the moment she doesn't want to be touched, they both know that if Lando hugs her, she'll absolutely melt.

"Keep choosing to be moody then. That's fine." Lando shrugs while y/n continues ignoring him flicking through Netflix.

Another 5 minutes pass with the two waiting for the other to break.

After that y/n gets up tossing the remote to land next to Lando before she steps out onto the balcony and ends up settling outside while Lando watches her, a small smirk on his face before he finally stands up to his feet and moves outside with her.

"You always fucking love to be chased." Lando comments finally just giving y/n what she subconsciously wants which is just some cuddles and love. He plucks her up from the seat before settling down and putting her in his lap, feeling her melt back against him as she does so. "Better?"

"You still pissed me off on purpose." Y/n mumbles since she knows that Lando detects her moods easily and she knows he usually treads carefully which means when he doesn't, she knows he's doing it actively.

"I know, I'm sorry. Sometimes I'm just a dickhead." Lando smiles while y/n grumbles a little but leans her head back on his shoulder as his hand tucks into her joggers and he gently massages her stomach and kisses her neck. "I love you, even if you're a moody bitch sometimes."

"I love you too...even if you're an asshole sometimes." Y/n smiles leaning her head back as she looks at him. "I'm glad we found each other...I don't know anyone else who could tolerate me and I don't know anyone else I'd be willing to tolerate like you."

"That's true. Remember that next time I'm in the mood to piss you off." Lando jokes earning an eye roll before they both start to laugh a little.

[oscinhaslandito]

Tier 1 Clinger - LN

@oscinhaslandito prompt request #23 & #25 - "Don't leave me." "I'm not going anywhere unless I'm dragging you with me." & "You can let go now." "Not happening."

Summary: Lando is clingy and his girlfriend is adapting to it.

Clingy!Lando

Word count: 1.3k

In her honest opinion, y/n had always thought herself quite a clingy woman in relationships and she's always sort of accepted that she was the clingy one and her partner just tolerated it.

Then she met Lando and they weren't even in a relationship before his clinginess quite literally caught a grip on her.

In his defence, he was drunk and she in her true nature just so badly wanted to take care of him because he was...very drunk. He latched onto her and he hasn't really let go since.

"Surprise!" Lando exclaims suddenly pushing his jumper over y/n's he'd and forcing her against his body within it.

"Lando!" Y/n laughs trying to poke her head out of the neck hole but he keeps her there.

Y/n slides her arms around Lando's waist and sighs softly to herself before groaning a little. Lando returns the favour with his arms in the sleeves as they wrap around her.

"It's getting hot in here." Y/n sighs while Lando hums before she shifts.

"Don't leave me." Lando whines a little while holding her more tightly to himself.

"I'm not going anywhere unless I'm dragging you with me. Since you have me pinned under your sweater." Y/n laughs before sighing when she feels him begin to walk them around, him waddling a little to avoid stepping on her feet. "You know, this really confirms the whole if he could climb into my skin to be close then I know he would theory."

"It's not a crime to love my girlfriend and want to be close to her." Lando declares while she snorts a little and sighs shaking her head at him.

Y/n really doesn't know what Lando sees as such a need to be so clingy to her but he certainly doesn't intend to change. He's unapologetically glued to his girlfriend unless pried away from her for work.

"Is this how we're spending the day?"

"It is." Lando confirms with a grin.

-

Y/n looks at Lando for a moment as he goes backwards down the bunny slope with her. His attempt at taking her skiing for the first time.

"I got you baby. I'm not letting go." Lando promises and she's certain he means that. Not because she needs him to hold her but because he wants to keep holding her.

"I think I got it. You can let go now." Y/n states actually almost more stressed at the fact Lando is in front of her.

"Not happening." Lando smiles simply while y/n laughs a little and shakes her head before agreeing to let him help her down to the bottom of the slope.

"I think we can go on one of the bigger ones." Y/n tries knowing that Lando's clinginess comes with a side of protectiveness and if he doesn't think that she's ready then he'll try and talk her out of it. "I'll make sure to do the pizza."

Lando hesitantly agrees though he insists she keep hold of his hand and they not rush down the steeper and higher slope.

The rest of the day consists of going up and down the smaller slopes but making progress with each one before they finally call it a day when y/n decides she's tired.

She does suggest Lando keep going since the rest of the group they're there with are on the more advanced slopes since she's the only one who hasn't gone skiing before so the rest are actually on the slopes that fit their skill level.

"No, I don't even know where they are and I'm hungry." Lando states not even bothering to consider joining the rest of his friends when his girlfriend isn't going to be there with them.

Unsurprisingly, he keeps himself latched onto her till they get back to the chateau and y/n decides she needs to shower since skiing in so many thick layers is a sweatier business than she originally anticipated.

"I need to shower to."

"You know...you're like a shadow in my life. I actually don't remember the last time I did something without you." Y/n sighs as Lando helps her out of the ski gear, grinning at her words. Since to him, always being present with her is a good thing, he loves being around her. That's definitely not a crime.

"I love you." Lando states while y/n hums for a moment just to tease him and after a kiss on her lips, she returns the words.

"I love you too, even if by this point you're like an extra limb. I don't even know what I'd do trying to go somewhere without you." Y/n giggles before she leans over and pecks his lips while undoing the zip of his own joke. "You're so cute."

"I try." Lando shrugs with a small laugh before he finally gets his layers off and they head into the bathroom with him keeping his hands tightly on her waist.

-

Y/n smiles as Lando catches up with her on the private jet they're taking back to Monaco after the trip. She'd left him on the tarmac, hoping to hurry him up by disappearing since he was distracted by something on his phone.

"What do you think you're doing?" Lando questions making y/n look up from the book she'd brought with her to read.

"Reading?"

"You left me."

"Oh I'm sorry baby, you looked busy and I wanted to get on the plane." Y/n smiles though he knows she's not really sorry since she knew he'd follow pretty quickly and that meant they could leave a little quicker like she wanted. "Come cuddle with me and we can just have a cuddle for the flight."

Lando falls into her open arms like he's returning to heaven and remains there for the duration of the flight, even falling asleep and going dead weight on her which does test her lungs endurance a little.

But even in his sleep he presses kisses to her ribs every now and then as if to assure himself that it's her. As if he doesn't recognise her by scent and touch alone.

Y/n actually thinks if she went missing, Lando's need to be with her would find her faster than any police dog or search party.

The man absolutely cannot live without her anymore and she is more than aware of it. She returns the feeling but just not quite to such an extreme as Lando.

"Baby, we've landed. You gotta get up." Y/n smiles rubbing his back when the jet hits the ground, bringing them back to the familiar airport in Nice which probably gets more time with F1 drivers than even the race tracks do. "Come on sleeping beauty, I know I make a great cushion but we can keep this up at home."

"We said we'd get on Tarkov." Actually Lando said he'd get on Tarkov but since he's incapable of being without y/n even when they're alone in the same apartment. That becomes a "we" activity.

"Oh right, well then after Tarkov" Y/n nods then groaning a little as he stands up holding out his hand while y/n groans and stretches, her body needing a moment after holding his weight on top of her at such an altitude for so long. "Can you crack my back?"

Y/n doesn't really need to ask. Lando sometimes cracks it by accident purely from holding her so tightly in a hug, but when he's asked there's a certain type of spark of joy behind his eyes for the fact she's actually asking him to touch her.

So after a few loud pops from her back, the two finally get off the jet and head towards the awaiting helicopter to get them back to Monaco and home for the promised Tarkov and cuddles.

[oscinhaslandito]

😭😭

me and @bonbonly

[oscinhaslandito]

cutie patootie

Lil' Cutie - OP81

@oscinhaslandito prompt request #21 - "You're so cute when you're excited about something."

Summary: Oscar always loves seeing his girlfriend get excited and happy over small things. But when she finally gets to experience seeing him excited, she can't help but need to comment.

Word count: 833

Y/n is the definition of simply pleased and easily excited. Something that Oscar appreciated from the get go, not because he wanted an easy girlfriend, but because seeing her be so elated over things so simple and sometimes even boring by his standards added a light to his life that he didn't expect.

"I love it." Y/n grins while Oscar smiles at her. "It's perfect."

"It's a knitted jumper to try and stop you from freezing to death in England, y/n." Oscar chuckles while he watches her pull on the charity shop purchase that he'd grabbed when she said she needed something that was of thicker layers and he didn't have any clothes for her to borrow that was of the right variety.

"It's so cosy." Y/n smiles before he grins at he and leans down kissing her softly. "Thank you."

"Anything for you baby." Oscar hums then sighing softly as he tilts his head. "Is it really that nice?"

"Yes. I love it." Y/n confirms before she sighs contently. "We do have to leave the warmth and get to the track. I can't wait to see you out there in your element again-and in the new car."

Oscar actually is pretty excited about the new car, but he's also trying his best to tamper it down just to make sure that he doesn't feel let down if it doesn't feel good driving the car.

-

Y/n sucks in a breath as Oscar drives out onto the track. Lip bitten as she watches him go out and she tries to keep herself from worrying too much.

Lando went out and everything was good apparently, so she can't imagine things going any different.

They only get a handful of laps since officially it's a filming day, but y/n can tell from the moment that Oscar climbs out of the car. He's happy. He feels good in the car and he is so proud of the team for that.

Obviously the last thing on his mind is y/n with everything that's going on and she is not about to insert herself into the discussions. But when the day finally comes to a close, after a hell of a lot of media, he finally returns to her.

"Oh baby, you are so happy." Y/n laughs as Oscar catches onto her waist as they stand in the privacy of his driver's room and he presses several kisses to her lips, not being able to wipe the smile off his face as he does so.

"It felt so good to be back in a car-and that car felt very good. We're gonna have such a good season." Oscar states only pausing as he kisses her several times. "Sorry I didn't come and speak to you earlier. But just talking with the team and-"

"You're so cute when you're excited about something and you definitely don't need to apologise for prioritising talking to the people you'll be spending the year with. This is work and I'm not really meant to be here so I'm happy to just get to see it all. Especially seeing you so excited. It's definitely more promising than the first time you got into a McLaren for any pre-season testing." Y/n smiles as Oscar pulls her slightly closer.

"I am excited, this could be a really good chance at winning the title." Oscar grins, whispering as if he's trying not to say it too loud and scare off the chances of it coming true.

"I know you can do it." Y/n nods then nuzzling her head into his chest and just hugging him. "You'll need to keep up the excitement. Make sure you keep this buzz around you. I think it's going to help you get through the year even if you usually prefer to keep it calm and humble."

"I'll try to keep it up." Oscar laughs rocking them a little before he sighs. "Are you really going to spend the year with me?"

Y/n smiles knowing that Oscar tries not to be too clingy most of the time and he's not naturally inclined that way but in his first two seasons, y/n didn't go to as many races as he wishes she had and he's trying to talk her into joining him on more. Her reasoning is not wanting to step on toes or be a nuisance, but Oscar knows that wouldn't be the case.

"If you want me there, I'll be there. Especially if you have such a huge chance of winning. How could I miss out on the excitement?" Y/n grins before she presses her lips onto his.

"Good." Oscar grins then drumming his hands on her bum for a moment. "Let me get changed and we can get back to the hotel and make use of some of this excitement."

"Oh is that what we're doing with the rest of the day?"

"We'll grab some food too."

[oscinhaslandito]

BALLET, BETRAYAL AND A HOSE

disclaimer: this is for pure entertainment please do not send hate. all hate messages are and will be left unacknowledged.

pairing: oscar piastri x norris!reader

word count: 3.8k

Lando and Oscar leaned against the wall outside her classroom in the ballet studio, waiting for Y/N to finish her class. Lando was scrolling through his phone while Oscar stood with his arms crossed, only half-listening to whatever nonsense his best friend was muttering about.

The classroom door opened, and a group of girls in tights and leotards exited, chatting amongst themselves. Oscar barely glanced up—until the last girl walked out.

Y/N, flushed from practice, hair still in a neat bun, leotard hugging her figure way too well, ways Oscar had never even considered before.

He freezes. Brain malfunctions. Thoughts he should not be having about his best friend’s little sister infiltrated his mind at lightning speed. Unholy thoughts, unholy thoughts, unholy thoughts— Nope, stop that, that’s your best friend’s little sister, act normal, mate.

He blinked rapidly, forcing himself back to reality just in time for Y/N to shoot an annoyed glare at Lando.

"Why are you inside? I told you to wait outside."

Lando shrugged, looking completely unbothered. "It's been fifteen minutes. Thought you fell and broke your leg or something."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Give me five more minutes. I need to shower and change. Then we can leave."

Oscar, still trying to process, nodded too quickly. "Yeah, yeah! Take your time! No rush at all!"

Lando shot him a look. "Why are you being weird?"

"I—I am not weird," Oscar said, voice cracking slightly. He cleared his throat. "Totally normal. Super normal. Completely—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Y/N’s ballet instructor exited the classroom.

She was gorgeous. Elegance personified. Every step she took was fluid, like she was floating. She’s got the grace of a goddess. Her hips swayed with effortless grace, her posture straight, and her sharp features gave her an intimidating yet magnetic presence. She walked past them, completely unaware of the chaos she was about to cause.

And then.

Lando wolf-whistles.

The second it leaves his mouth, Y/N’s soul leaves her body. She stares at him, absolutely mortified.

Oscar nearly choked on air, eyes widening in disbelief.

And Lando? The menace? He just grinned.

Not even ashamed. Just shrugs, and mutters, "What? She’s fine as hell."

Lando fully commits to flirting—flashes his most charming grin, smooths out his hoodie like he’s in a tux, and leans against the nearest wall like he’s James Bond.

"So… do you give private lessons? Asking for a friend."

Y/N dies on the spot. Oscar is wheezing, but also still trying to act normal after his own 'crisis'.

And then the teacher? She just chuckles, totally unbothered, and WINKS at Lando before saying, "You aren’t the first guy." Then, with the most graceful sway of her hips, she struts away like a queen.

Lando? Completely entranced. His brain is off. His eyes are GLUED to her until she starts to disappear in the distance. "I think I’m in love."

Y/N groaned, grabbing him by the ear and dragging him away. "I am so sorry, Miss Lillian. Please ignore him. He is not house-trained." While, the woman in return just laughs???

Oscar is just standing there, still recovering from seeing Y/N in a leotard, and now he has to process this madness too. What the actual fuck is happening today? He needed help.

As they walked outside, Y/N was still dragging Lando by the ear, furious while he laughed like an idiot.

"I swear to GOD, if you ever embarrass me like that again, I will revoke your brother privileges. You will no longer be my sibling. You will be just ‘some guy I know’!"

Lando, still rubbing his ear, just grinned. "Worth it."

Meanwhile, Oscar was still awkwardly quiet—which Y/N finally noticed. She frowned. "What’s wrong with you?"

Oscar, still desperately trying not to think about her in a leotard, blurted out, "Nothing! I mean—uh—great weather today, huh? Love the sky. Big fan of clouds."

Just as she was about to interrogate him further, Lando sighed dreamily. "Do you think Miss Lillian likes younger guys?"

Y/N groaned. "Please shut up."

Lando, completely ignoring her: "Like, I’m not saying she wants me, but I am saying I could make her want me, you know?"

Oscar lost it. "YOU WERE STARING AT HER LIKE A LOST PUPPY."

Just as Y/N thinks the nightmare is over, they turn the corner and—BOOM—Miss Lillian is also leaving the building at the same time. She notices them and gives Lando a knowing smile.

Lando panics for one second but then fully commits to the bit. "Hey, fancy seeing you here. Wanna grab a drink?"

Miss Lillian just chuckles, winks, and walks away again, hips swaying. Lando? Mesmerized.

Y/N? Absolutely done with this entire day.

Lando’s driving, humming to himself, and then suddenly notices Oscar glancing at Y/N way too much. He narrows his eyes at first, watching Oscar physically struggle not to look. Then it clicks—and Lando SLAMS the brakes.

Y/N yelps, "WHAT THE HELL?!" while Oscar nearly flies forward. Lando turns in his seat, slowly, dramatically narrows his eyes and gives his best mate the filthiest glare known to mankind like he just witnessed a crime.

"Mate. I consider you one of my best mates. And you… you just stab me in the back like this? IN FRONT OF ME? AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE BEEN THROUGH?"

Oscar is malfunctioning. "I don’t—I wasn’t—I don’t know what you’re talking about!"

Y/N is clueless. "What is happening right now?"

Lando doesn’t even acknowledge her. He’s still burning a hole into Oscar’s soul. "You were staring like she’s a Michelin-star meal, mate. DO NOT DENY IT."

Oscar is fighting for his life. "I WASN’T—"

Lando gasps, clutching his chest. "YOU WERE. YOU ABSOLUTELY WERE."

Y/N is just sitting there, confused as hell.

Y/N, exasperated, "Lando, can we go home??"

Lando, ignoring her, "Oh, we’re going home. But Oscar is not sitting next to you."

Oscar is BANISHED to the front seat while Lando makes Y/N sit in the back, like that somehow prevents romance.

But it gets worse.

Oscar is already suffering, but Lando DOES NOT LET IT GO.

The whole ride home, Lando keeps throwing shots at Oscar.

"So, Oscar, what’s your type? Ballet dancers, perhaps?"

"You ever think about dating someone’s younger sister before?"

"OH WAIT, YOU ALREADY DO, DON’T YOU?"

Oscar wants to die.

And then, when they finally get home, Lando makes it his life mission to ensure Oscar and Y/N DO NOT get a single moment alone.

He follows them around. If Oscar tries to speak to Y/N, Lando INTERRUPTS. If Oscar so much as looks in her direction, Lando gives him a death stare. If Y/N tries to talk to Oscar, Lando physically stands between them.

Later that night, Lando forces Oscar to sleep on an air mattress on the floor of his room, because "We’re not sharing a bed, that’s weird, mate."

And THEN, before they all go to bed, Lando grabs Oscar by the collar and whispers:

"If I even THINK you’re looking at my sister again, I will personally make sure you never drive a car again. Sleep well, mate."

Oscar does not, in fact, sleep well.

Lando is officially in full-overprotective mode, and Oscar is now public enemy #1 in his eyes.

Lando is finally asleep, snoring like a damn freight train. Oscar is wide awake on the air mattress, traumatized from the day’s events. And then—Y/N sneaks in.Like a ninja. Silent. Stealthy. Dangerous. She tiptoes across the room, carefully dodging Lando’s discarded hoodie (gross). Oscar notices way too late. He turns his head and BAM—Y/N IS CRAWLING INTO HIS AIR MATTRESS.

Oscar's in deep shock, "What the—Y/N?!"

Y/N, smirks, feigning innocence, "Shhh. You’ll wake Lando up."

Oscar, panicked whispers "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Y/N just grins, fully curling herself against his side, spoons him like an absolute MENACE. Oscar.exe has stopped working. His brain is fighting for its life. His crush—Lando’s little sister—is just… THERE. ALL CUDDLED UP. CASUALLY. LIKE IT’S NORMAL. Oscar, internally screaming, Be a gentleman. Be a gentleman. BE A GENTLEMAN.

Y/N, cheekily whispers "Can’t sleep. Thought I’d try a different spot."

Oscar, whisper yells at her, "YOUR BROTHER IS LITERALLY RIGHT THERE."

Y/N casually says, "Yeah, but he sleeps like a rock."

Oscar groans, "This is a terrible idea."

Y/N smirks, "So you want me to leave?"

Oscar doesn’t answer. Because no, actually, he does not want her to leave. His heart is slamming against his ribs.

Y/N smirks, "That’s what I thought."

She just settles in, fully comfortable, head on his chest, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Oscar is fighting for his life. His arms are just hovering midair like WHAT DO I DO WITH THESE??? And then? Y/N grabs his hand and puts it around her waist. Oscar dies. Right there. On the spot. He just stares at the ceiling, his soul leaving his body. Meanwhile, Lando snores in the background, completely unaware that his best mate is currently living his worst (best??) nightmare.

Oscar is suffering.

Y/N is fully comfortable, head on his chest, arms wrapped around him, not a care in the world. Meanwhile, Oscar is staring at the ceiling like a man facing the gates of hell. He. Cannot. Move. His entire body is rigid, arms awkwardly hovering in the air like a glitching video game character. If he breathes too hard, will Lando wake up? If he shifts even an inch, will Y/N notice? IF HE LOOKS DOWN, WILL HE SELF-DESTRUCT?? He is trapped. A hostage. A prisoner.

Y/N notices.

She lifts her head slightly, eyes glinting in the dark, "Why are you so stiff?"

Oscar is having an internal crisis. "I—uh—I don’t know what you mean."

Y/N wiggles closer.

Oscar stops breathing. Lando SNORES. Pure. Nightmare. Fuel.

Y/N, all cheeky, "Oh my God. You’re nervous."

Oscar wants to disappear. "I AM NOT." He absolutely is.

Y/N grins against his chest, "You totally are. Your heart is beating so fast."

Oscar, fully malfunctioning, "That's just because I had too much caffeine"

Y/N raises a brow playfully, "At 11 PM?"

"YES."

At this point, Oscar is just praying Lando doesn’t wake up.

But oh, it gets worse.

Y/N? She’s having the time of her life. She traces small circles on his chest, just to see what happens. Oscar freaking glitches. Whole body JOLTS.

Y/N is now grinning like a gremlin. "Ohhh, you are STRUGGLING."

Oscar, on the verge of dying, "Y/N. PLEASE."

Y/N smirks, "Please what?"

Oscar groans, in a 'crisis', "Have mercy."

Y/N pretends to think for brief second, "Mmm... nah."

And THEN.

Lando shifts in his bed.

Oscar freezes completely. Y/N? She doesn’t even flinch. Lando just mumbles something about ‘papaya rules’ in his sleep before turning over. Oscar EXHALES so hard he nearly passes out.

Y/N, casually goes, "Relax. He’s not waking up."

Oscar physically cannot relax.

It starts small. He sighs. Internally accepts his fate. Then, he relaxes—just a little. Then a little more. And then…

HE PULLS Y/N FULLY ONTO HIS CHEST.

Y/N yelps softly, but then grins like an absolute menace. Oscar? His brain is fighting demons, but he commits. One arm wraps around her waist. The other rests lazily on her back. His hand strokes slow, lazy circles on her spine.

Y/N, all smug, "Oh. So now you’re comfortable?"

Oscar, voice all deep and raspy, "Go to sleep, menace."

And then… Y/N falls asleep.

Just fully PASSES OUT. Peaceful. Happy. Cozy. Doing something so brain itchy to Oscar's heart.

For the first time all night, he actually enjoys this.

UNTIL.

The sun rises. Lando wakes up groggy, rubbing his eyes.

He turns his head.

Sees something.

Leans in closer.

Squints.

Blinks.

Blinks again.

And then—

It hits.

Lando SCREAMS. "WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK."

Oscar jerks awake in full-blown panic. Y/N mumbles something about ‘five more minutes’ and nuzzles closer. OH, THIS IS WAR.

Lando launches forward, shoving Y/N off Oscar. She yelps, hitting the floor like a sack of potatoes.

HE JUMPS ON TOP OF OSCAR.

GRABS A PILLOW.

ATTEMPTS MURDER.

WHAM.

Oscar, disoriented, panicking, "WHAT THE HELL, MATE?!"

Lando, fuming, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN ‘WHAT THE HELL’?! YOU’RE CUDDLING MY SISTER, YOU ABSOLUTE TRAITOR!!"

"YOU DIRTY, BACKSTABBING, DISLOYAL PIECE. OF. SHIT." WHACK. WHACK. WHACK.

Oscar is fighting for his life, arms flailing, legs kicking, whole air mattress bouncing. "GET OFF ME YOU PSYCHO—"

"HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?!" WHACK

"I DIDN’T EVEN MOVE ALL NIGHT—"

"DIDN’T MOVE?! YOU LET MY SISTER CUDDLE YOU, YOU BACKSTABBING SNAKE." WHACK WHACK WHACK

"IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE."

"OH, REALLY? BECAUSE IT LOOKS LIKE MY BABY SISTER WAS ALL OVER YOU."

Y/N, from the floor, "…It was mutual, actually."

"I’M GONNA KILL YOU BOTH." Lando yells, stll not getting off of Oscar.

"YOU BETRAYED ME. YOU BETRAYED OUR BROTHERHOOD." "I LET YOU INTO MY HOME." "I SHARED MY FOOD WITH YOU." "AND YOU DO THIS TO ME?"

Oscar is gasping for air.

It’s a full WWE match.

Meanwhile, Y/N is just watching from the floor, completely unfazed. She stretches. Yawns. Checks her nails.

She slowly stands up, dusts herself off. Then, casually walks to the bathroom, turning on the faucet. She fills a glass with cold water, casually walks back.

And then—

SHE DUMPS THE ENTIRE GLASS ON LANDO’S HEAD.

Lando FREEZES. Oscar GASPS for air like a drowning man. The pillow falls.

And Y/N, completely deadpan, "Okay. That’s enough murder for today."

Lando BLINKS. Dripping wet. Absolutely stunned. Oscar wheezes. Y/N sips the last few drops from the glass.

Then, as if nothing just happened, she pats Lando’s head like a child.

“There. Now go take a shower and cool off before you have a stroke.”

Lando? Hair dripping. Hoodie sticking to his skin. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. Visibly contemplating whether he should actually commit murder. Oscar? Still in shock. Barely survived an attempted homicide. Heart still racing because Y/N was ON HIS CHEST last night. But now his biggest concern is whether he’ll make it out of this house alive. Y/N? Already grabbing her phone, scrolling through Instagram like this was just another Tuesday.

Unbothered. Hydrated. Thriving.

AND THEN—

Lando, finally wiping water off his face, turns to Y/N with pure betrayal. “You were supposed to be on MY side.”

And Y/N, sipping from her now-empty glass like the menace she is, "I am on your side. I just don’t want you to go to jail."

Oscar, whispers weakly "Thank you."

AT BREAKFAST TABLE.

Y/N's just spreading Nutella on her toast, living her best life.

Oscar looks visibly like he's regretting every decision in his life, contemplating booking a one-way flight back to Melbourne.

Lando is still fuming, arms crossed, eyes narrowed at Oscar like he’s planning the next murder attempt. He's still ranting.

"I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU. YOU’RE A TRAITOR. A WEASEL. A FILTHY—" "AND DON’T THINK I WON’T REPLACE YOUR TOOTHPASTE WITH GLUE, PIASTRI." "I’M GONNA MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL."

Oscar, exhausted:, "Mate, I think you already have."

Lando slams his fork down. Oscar flinches. Visibly bracing for another attack. But then—

Y/N STRIKES.

In the middle of Lando’s rant, she grabs Oscar by the collar, yanks him forward and crashes her lips against his.

OSCAR? Gone. MIND? Blank. SOUL? Exited his body. SYSTEM? Full Malfunction.

Lando? Oh he's silent as a graveyard, staring at them, the fork still mid air. Not a single sound. Just. Pure. Utter. Horror.

Y/N pulls away, smug as hell, looking Lando straight in the eye, "This is happening. Me and him. Whether you like it or not."

Oscar? Still frozen. Mouth slightly open. No thoughts. Just static noise.

Lando? Blinking. Processing. Spiraling. Opens his mouth—closes it—opens it again. Grips his glass of juice so hard it nearly explodes.

"I’M GONNA THROW UP."

Lando dramatically pushes his chair back, stomps out of the kitchen like a scorned Victorian widow, muttering something about betrayal, disownment, and needing therapy.

Meanwhile, Y/N? Picks up her toast like nothing happened. Oscar? Still buffering.

Y/N, all casual, "Want some Nutella, babe?"

Oscar's mouth still open, can’t even compute.

She picks up her toast, takes the smallest, most casual bite, and then in the most nonchalant, sweet-as-sugar voice, "Well, now that he’s gone…" smirk "…we can properly make out."

OSCAR.EXE HAS COMPLETELY SHUT DOWN.

His head whips toward her so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash, jaw dropping, words nowhere to be found. A full-body malfunction.

"Wha-? Huh? You can't just say things like that."

Y/N, picks up her glass of juice, sipping innocently, "Why not? Scared, Piastri?"

Oscar's completely struggling to form a coherent sentence.

"I—you—wha—?" His face is redder than a Ferrari, hands gripping the table like he’s on a rollercoaster.

And then—THE KILL SHOT.

Y/N leans in, placing a hand on his knee, a slow smirk on her lips, her eyes playful, her voice, the epitome of chaos, "Oh, c'mon, Lando was the only thing holding you back."

OSCAR HAS OFFICIALLY DIED.

Head in hands. Breathing? NONEXISTENT.

AND THEN—

Lando storms back in, clearly remembering he left his phone behind.

He pauses at the scene in front of his eyes. He blinks. Y/N was practically draped over Oscar who looked like he’s having a full spiritual crisis, while Y/N just Looked as smug as a cat that just knocked over a glass.

Lando’s left eye twitches.

"I—FOR FUCK'S SAKE, CAN I NOT LEAVE YOU TWO ALONE FOR FIVE MINUTES???"

Y/N bites into her toast, still grinning, "Nope."

Lando? DISGUSTED. TRAUMATIZED. ON THE VERGE OF COLLAPSE.

He grabs his phone, shoots them one last glare, and storms out.

The door slams.

Y/N, watching the door like a true menace: "…Think he’s gone for good this time?"

Oscar is still recovering from the first attack, face still red, he still hasn’t blinked, looking like he just got hit by a truck.

Y/N grinning like the absolute devil she is, grabs Oscar by the collar again and pulls him in. This time, no teasing, no games, straight up full-on, deep, mind-numbing make-out session.

Oscar? Oh, the man is gone. His hands find her waist. Brain? No longer functional. Thinking? Never heard of it. He’s officially entered the 'Fuck it we ball' phase.

Just when things are getting properly heated—

DOOR FLIES OPEN.

Lando stands there, hose in hand. A BACKYARD GARDEN HOSE.

Oscar and Y/N both freeze mid-makeout turn their heads in slow motion, realizing what’s happening a second too late.

AND THEN IT HITS. FULL BLAST. ICE COLD WATER.

Oscar yells.

Y/N screams.

Lando? MANIACAL.FULL VILLAIN ARC.

"YEAH, NAH, THIS IS MUCH BETTER. I’M GOOD NOW." Lando says in a breath of relief, literally waterboarding them.

They're both drenched to the bone. The kitchen was a literal flood zone. Y/N looked like a drowned cat, Oscar was fully contemplating his life choices. Lando, on the other hand looked the definition of job well done.

Oscar was already planning murder, while Y/N was on the verge of actual murder.

Lando, casually turns off the hose, tossing it over his shoulder, "Right. Who’s hungry?"

Y/N is fuming, pushing her wet hair back, "You’re DEAD, Lando. Done. Finished. Over."

Lando, grins, arms crossed like an evil genius, "Oh, am I? Cause you two looked pretty comfortable before I SAVED YOU FROM YOURSELVES."

Oscar, shaking out his wet curls, still processing, "This—this is assault."

Lando all unbothered goes, "No, mate. This is JUSTICE."

BUT THEN—

Y/N LUNGES.

She slips on the wet floor, grabs onto Oscar to stabilize, taking the poor guy down with her as they both crash to the floor in a heap.

Lando was bent over, laughing, "OH MY GOD, THAT WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN I EXPECTED." The guy was legit struggling to breathe.

Oscar, flat on his back, staring at the ceiling, "…This is my villain origin story."

Y/N, lying on top of him, glaring at Lando, "You have SECONDS to live, Norris."

Lando was still wheezing, holding up his hands, "Okay, okay, truce! I’ll make it up to you. I'll buy you McDonald’s."

Y/N, narrowing her eyes, "I want nuggets, a big mac, and a McFlurry."

Oscar, still recovering, "And I want a new best friend."

"Yeah, well, can’t help you there, mate."

IN THE CAR.

Lando's driving like nothing ever happened. Y/N, still slightly dripping, but happily eating her nuggets while Oscar was staring out the window like he just came back from war.

Lando, sipping his Coke, grinning, "So… was it worth it?"

Oscar turns his head slowly, "I’m sleeping with one eye open tonight."

Y/N, still chewing, completely deadpans, "No, you’re sleeping with me tonight."

OSCAR.EXE HAS CRASHED AGAIN.

The rest of the day is again filled with lots and lots of banter, finally night dawns.

Oscar is half dead, thinking the madness is finally over. He yawns, heading toward Lando's room, "Right. Goodnight. I’m sleeping forever."

Y/N grins like she’s got a plan, "Yeah, about that…"

Oscar, gives her a suspicious look, "…what?"

Y/N, casually linking her arm through his, "I thought we’d cuddle."

Lando? FROM ACROSS THE ROOM?? HE HEARS IT.

"OVER MY DEAD FUCKING BODY."

Lando full-on sprints after them. Oscar panics while, Y/N cackles as she drags Oscar toward the bedroom.

Lando, grabbing Oscar’s hoodie to stop him, "TRAITOR. ABSOLUTE TRAITOR."

Oscar, helplessly dragged by Y/N, looking at Lando in despair, "I’m not even doing anything."

Y/N dives onto the bed, pulling Oscar with her. Lando launches himself like a flying squirrel, wrestling Oscar away. Y/N? Clinging onto Oscar for dear life. Oscar? GETTING TORN APART.

THEN. A MOMENT OF CHAOS.

Lando accidentally pulls too hard— Oscar accidentally pulls back— Y/N, stuck in the middle, gets yeeted off the bed.

THE ROOM GOES SILENT.

Y/N was now lying on the floor, groaning. Oscar was horrified. Lando. Oh. He messed up.

Y/N, slowly sitting up, cracking her knuckles, "I’m going to end you, Lando."

LANDO JUMPS UP, RUNS FOR HIS LIFE. "GOODNIGHT BYEEEE."

CUT TO: THE NEXT MORNING.

Lando wakes up to something terrifying.

A polaroid taped to his forehead, a picture of Y/N and Oscar, snuggled up in bed, Oscar’s arm wrapped around Y/N, both looking all cozy.

Lando looked MURDEROUS.

"NOOOOOOOOOO."