#oscar in that papaya hoodie is doing things to me

[delulujuls]

the prettiest boy in the paddock | op81

hi there, here comes the 1.3k of wholesome fluff with the pastry boi. its just-uh, i already know that i wanna write a part two for this so watch out!

summary: oscar is feeling a bit down but little does he know that for two people out there he is the prettiest boy in the paddock

warnings: none

pairing: fem!mclarendriver x oscar piastri (ft. lando)

Oscar never had an opinion about his appearance.

Whenever someone asked him if he considered himself as an attractive guy, he would just shrug. Passing by shop windows, mirrors, or surfaces reflecting his image, he never stopped to check if he looked good. The same applied to taking pictures of him. He never needed to have a say in them; he didn't feel the need to improve any shot, as he might not look favorable in it. If the photographer thought he looked great, who was he to judge?

This, of course, didn't mean that Oscar didn't take care of himself; quite the opposite. The Aussie was always neat, smelled good, and sometimes even used hair conditioner, lip balm or even a hand cream. Looking at him, you could notice a handsome, young man with a well-built, slim figure, a pleasant gaze, and an infectious smile.

The fact that Oscar was attractive was especially noticeable on social media. He was adored by fans. The papaya army loved the McLaren duo, and Oscar was no less popular with the ladies than Lando. If anything, sometimes it seemed like his name was shouted even louder.

His teammates also shared the same opinion. Oscar was a good-looking lad, so it wasn't surprising that during conferences, interviews or casual conversations Lando couldn't take his eyes off him and Y/N took every opportunity to throw compliments at him. However, these compliments were one hundred percent sincere and true and Oscar took them very personally, blushing like never before. These compliments were perceived as harmless, friendly jokes by the public, but both Y/N and Lando believed that their friend was the indeed the most beautiful.

However, this didn't change the fact that sometimes Oscar had a bad day. This was one of those days.

With the hood pulled low over his head, the person in the orange McLaren hoodie entered the dining room. Y/N was slowly having her breakfast, scrolling through social media. She usually went for meals early to avoid crowds and have some time to clear her head. Her surprise was evident when someone pulled a chair next to her and took a seat.

"Oscar?" the girl asked in surprise, barely able to see her friend's face under the hood. "What are you doing here so early?"

"I couldn't sleep."

He muttered under his breath and opened a small chocolate packet, pouring it over his pancakes.

Y/N blinked several times, holding her phone in her hand. Clearly, something was off.

"Is something wrong?"

Oscar shook his head and leaned his elbow on the table. He ate in a hunched position, with his back slouched. It looked like he was hiding from someone. Or hiding something.

"You haven't convinced me."

She replied, putting down her sandwich.

The Aussie ate in silence. Only his chin and chocolate-stained lips were visible under the hood. Y/N looked at him, waiting, but when she saw it was better to drop the subject, she returned to her breakfast and scrolling through Instagram.

When Y/N finished eating, she glanced at her friend one last time. He still sat with his head down, swiping his finger on his phone screen. She gathered her things, planning to leave the dining room, realizing there was no chance for a normal chat with Oscar.

"See you around, grumpy."

As she stood up, she heard a quiet question.

"Can you help me?"

Y/N paused and finished her coffee.

"Of course I'll help you, but first I need to know in what matter."

She replied without hesitation, looking down at him. He raised his head and for the first time that day, she had the chance to look at his face.

"Do you have a moment now?"

The girl checked her phone's clock and nodded.

"To my room, then."

Once they were in her room, she sat on the bed and Oscar, after closing the door behind him, walked slowly into the room.

"I'm all ears."

He took his hands out of his pockets and sat next to his friend. He sighed and took off the hood, turning his face toward Y/N in silence. She looked at him surprised, studying him.

"What? You don't have the answer written on your face."

"I do," he replied tartly "You don't see gow terrible i look?"

Y/N furrowed her brows. She had no idea what he was talking about. He looked exactly the same as always.

"You look cute, just like every day."

She said playfully, smiling, but he wasn't in the mood for jokes. He lowered his head and rubbed his face with his hands.

"Acne," he said, resigned, lowering his hands to his knees. "It's worse than ever."

She gently touched his chin and turned his face towards her. Oscar avoided eye contact. He felt embarrassed, unsure whether he was more ashamed of coming to her with such a thing or of his appearance.

"If you want me to help, first, don't touch your face like you did a moment ago."

The girl smiled and brushed the hair from his forehead with her hand.

The Aussie looked into her eyes and, seeing her smile, he felt a little more confident.

"Can you help me with this? I have no idea what to do."

"You're lucky you're friends with someone who has half a Walmart in their makeup bag."

Y/N smiled and stood up, going to the bathroom. After a moment, she returned with a pink headband, which she placed on Oscar's head to keep his hair away from his face.

"Have you washed your face today?"

Oscar nodded.

"What do you use for face wash? Tell me about your skincare routine."

To be honest, there was nothing much to talk about.

"Uh, I wash my face with water, morning and night, when I take a shower."

Y/N blinked several times and looked at him in shock.

"And that's it?"

He just nodded. To his surprise, his friend smiled and clapped her hands.

"Great, I can teach you everything."

"I don't know if I'm ready for that."

Oscar replied uncertainly, but he obediently stood up and followed the girl to the bathroom.

"Don't worry; it won't be anything crazy" Y/N said and took her face wash gel in her hand "It's gonna be Piastri's friendly skincare."

He listened to her even more carefully than when he analyzed the race result with the strategists. He asked when he had doubts, trying to remember every word she said. When he finished washing his face, she applied a gentle scrub and face mask after. After that, it was the time fot rest of the skincare routine. Y/N took a bit of cream on her fingers, which finished off all the major skincare. She crouched down in front of him and smiled, applying the cream to his face.

"Smile, Osc. You are beautiful."

Piastri involuntarily smiled at her compliment.

"Immediately better."

She added, massaging the remaining cream into her hands. For some imperfections, she applied a clear, specialized ointment and removed the headband from his head. She stood up, taking a brush and combing his hair.

"Thank you, Y/N."

Oscar replied, looking at her from below. His brown eyes sparkled as he raised his head to look at his friend.

"You are welcome, pretty boy."

She replied. She wanted to kiss his cheeks but refrained, partly because of the multi-step skincare routine on his face, and partly because Oscar was her friend. But mostly, it was about skincare.

"And you're beautiful, don't forget that."

"Of course, I am" a loud interjection from Lando was heard as he entered the room, making himself comfortable in it, quickly appearing in the bathroom "What's going on here and why without me?"

"You miss everything because you're the last one to get up"

Y/N replied, putting her things back into her cosmetic bag.

"Not true, don't be mean."

Lando retorted, but quickly his gaze turned towards Oscar and the Brit smiled at the sight of him "Wow, Osc, what a glow, mate!"

"Y/N did her hundred-step skincare on me."

"Really? Why are you torturing our friend?" Norris asked, sitting on the edge of the bathtub next to the Aussie.

"I asked her myself," the younger boy replied before the girl spoke up, ready to throw some sort of retort at her friend, "I wasn't feeling very confident this morning, my acne was killing me a bit and it's gotten worse lately."

Oscar admitted, still a little embarrassed by his problem.

"Aw, Oscar," Lando wrapped his arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. "You'd win the competition for the prettiest boy in the paddock."

Piastri blushed and lowered his gaze. A slight smile appeared on his rosy lips.

"Oh yes, you would definitely win."

Y/N replied and put her makeup bag aside, also sitting next to Piastri and kissing his other cheek, feeling a bit more confident after Lando did the exact same thing. Oscar blushed even more and raised his hands to hide his face, but lowered them halfway.

"I can't touch my face, damn it!"

#f1 imagines #f1 oneshot #f1 #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #lando norris #ln4 #op81 #op81 x reader #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you

[baby-dr1ver]

kinktober <3

wearing the others clothes

oscar x reader

Oscars POV: It was  along day of of going over data and Andrea making me and Lando color in the lines. Track limits were a bitch, but I felt worse for Lando than me. I already texted Y/N that I was on my way back to the hotel, and I would bring dinner. She hadn’t texted back but, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. Working remotely had it’s perks, like getting to travel with me to almost every race. 

I struggle to open the door with everything in my hand, and I expected for Y/N  to run and help as soon as I was through the door. Instead, I was met with silence, the lights were dimmed and I didn’t see her anywhere. I set things down on the dresser and called her name a few times. “Babe? Y/N?” I sat on the bed heavily, and heard a small groan. I turned to face the lump on the bed, that I missed the first time, and saw her head poking out the top. I pulled the blankets away from her face and saw a familiar number on the back of her hoodie. My number to be exact, she’s wearing my hoodie. We haven’t been together long, well,  10 months to be exact. I guess that could be a long time. Either way, she hasn’t worn anything of mine yet, I mean she has her own Mclaren merch and she looks amazing in it. But it’s a different feeling when she’s wearing my clothes, and she smells like me. It makes me chest warm and fuzzy. 

Instead of waking her, I change out of my own gear and climb into bed next to her. She makes a small noise when I pull her back against me, but settles as soon as I kiss her temple and squeeze her waist. I push my face into her neck, taking in her scent mixed with mine. This…this was a different feeling then just seeing her in my clothes this was..this stirred something new in him. 

He didn’t ponder for long, the alluring smells and feelings pulled him into sleep. 

He texted her the next day to let her know that a car would be there to pick her up before the race started. He had to be in the garage extra early to meet with Zak and his strategist. Starting P1 was big, huge even. As a rookie I was not supposed to be having this great of a season, 2 podiums in a row? Unheard of. 

It was 15 min until the race started and I made my way out of the garage to see everyone before I started my last minute prep. I spotted Y/N talking to one of my engineers and laughing and fuck me did she look gorgeous. She’s wearing my team shirt with my name and number on it, how do you know it’s yours do you ask? Because it’s about three sizes to big on her-and she’s got my favorite pair of jeans she owns on, they’re baggy and they make her look quite tall. And her hair is in a little half do thing, she’s got braids framing her face with ribbons tied at the end. She knows I love when she uses bows in her hair, makes her look so innocent and pure. 

She found me and waved me over. “Osc!” My legs were on auto pilot, my body magnetized to hers and she wrapped me in a hug. “Hi baby, glad you made it. Is that my shirt?” I asked nonchalantly. She pulls away, “yeah sorry, the rest of my papaya things were dirty.” She frowns and looks down. “I should have asked first I’m sor-” 

“No hey, I love it. You don’t ever have to ask to wear my clothes baby.” She blushed and looked down at her feet. I giggled at her reaction, and I lean forward to kiss her forehead. One of my hands found it;s way under her shirt (read: mine) to rest along her stomach. It was nothing new for either of us, it was a comfort to both. However, what was new was a thick band where her underwear would be. Upon furher investigation, oh fuck oh fuck she’s wearing my boxers. For fucks sake mate do not get a boner right now, it is not the time. 

“Is there anything of mine you aren’t wearing? Your dedicated, boxers and everything.” She looked up at me with a guilty look. “I was in a rush this morning, I over slept big time,  and it was the first bottoms I found. The jeans are mine and my soxs-well the socks are Lando’s merch. The white ones with the ‘LN4’ stitched on the side.” As she lifted her pant leg so I could see, a nasty feeling bloomed in my chest. I didn’t like that she was wearing anything associated with Lando. 

“You know what, I have some socks in my drivers room, you can wear those. No need to wear those pesky things.” I started to pull her towards the hallway that led to my room when she stopped me once we were out of earshot of people. “Oscar! What is going on love? You seemed fine just a minute ago, now your in a tizzy.” She had that stance, the mom stance is what I affectionately called it. Hands on her hips, one leg popped out, not good. 

I sighed, “I just, your MY y/n, not Landos. I want you to wear my things.” I mumbled the last part, as if she wouldn’t catch on. 

Y/N pouted and cupped my cheeks, pushing up on her toes to kiss me. 

“Your y/n, my ozzy. Always.” She scrunched her nose as she rubbed it with mine. “And I will totally change into your socks if it makes you feel better.” 

I laughed at her statement. I was being stupid, I was the one that went home with her every night, not Lando, not anyone. 

“Nah it’s fine, you’ve got a big 81 on your back, I think everyone knows who your here for.” And with that, I leave her to get ready for the race. 

P2, P fucking 2. The gap between me and Max was still big but,  managed to defend myself against my own teammate. 

After the podium celebrations and I had packed up my things to leave, I found Y/N consoling Lando, giving him a small sympathy pat. She said her goodbyes and made her way over to me, taking her bag and coat from me. “Everything okay?” I nodded over to Lando. “Yeah he was just giving me more socks, you jealous?” Y/N wiggled her eyebrows and giggled. I laughed along with her, shaking my head, and started to pull her towards the waiting car. “Good because you, get to pull all your clothes off me when we get back.” I whipped my head towards her. She already had a slight flush on her cheeks, rocking on her heels as we stood outside the car. I didn’t even know what to say yet, I just ushered her in the backseat and urged the driver to move as fast as he could. 

I pushed Y/N through the door of our hotel room, locking it and using the DND sign. I was about to wreck her and I did not need anyone knocking in the morning. 

I had her up against the wall, opposite of the bed. Her hands were in my hair, tugging every which way, taking control of the kiss. I let her think that she was in charge for a couple of more kisses before I pushed off the wall and pulled her onto the bed. Y/N squealed as I landed on top of her, my hands went under her shirt, pushing it up her chest and leaving small marks as more skin was exposed. “Baby… need you inside me please.” 

How could I say no? I groaned and got her shoes and pants off, leaving her in my boxers and shirt. “Is it..is it bad that I kinda wanna keep you in this?” I took a step back and looked down at the love of my life. She laughed and wiggled her hips. I watched her hands go under her back, and pulled her bra off her body. 

“How about..I take these off,” Y/N said as she seductively slid my boxers off. “and I’ll keep this on so you can see just who I belong to. Because it’s your number I wear every race.” 

She smiled up at me, that god damn smile. Could make the whole world fall at her feet with that smile, and that sparkle in her eye. And the way she looked naked with nothing but my shirt on. The shirt she wants to wear, just to let everyone know that she’s mine. 

She beckons me over, opening her legs further. I glide my hand down her leg to meet at her sickly sweet opening, dripping just for me. “Do you need me to…or can we skip it tonight?” I asked sheepishly. Not that I wouldn’t love to finger her until her legs went numb, I’m just to worked up for it. 

She laughs at my sudden shy demeanor, I’ve blown her back out many times before and I was never shy asking about prep. “Yeah Osc, I’m good. Have been since you practically were feral at the fact that I wasn’t wearing your socks. Didn’t know you were so possessive.”

I laughed and starting stripping myself of my clothes and grabbing a condom. Wrap it before you tap it kids. 

“Yeah I didn’t either.” I push the condom over my aching member and rub the tip against her clit. Getting back at her for the teasing earlier.  I looked up at her as I paused at her hole, silently asking for permission. She nodded meakly and I slowly pushed in. 

Y/N gasped and held onto my forearms for a moment. “Osc, baby…take the condom off.” 

My eyes widen. “W-what?” Was she insane? Yeah she was actually insane. “Mhm, I’m on birth control, you know this.” I just stared at her. We, in all of our month of dating, have never fucke raw. Hell I’ve never done that, with anyone. “Are you sure? You know the pill isn’t always affective.” Y/N rolled her eyes and pushed on my stomach so I’d fall out of her. She slowly pulled the condom off and stroked my dick a few times. “That’s what the morning after pill is for.” So much for wrap it before you tap it. 

She guided me back to her pussy and just the feeling of her soaking me put me on edge. Without a single warning, I thrust into her. And fuck me was it perfect, she was perfect. We both couldn’t breath for a minute. She had her head push back into the pillows and I grabbed her jaw and forced her to look at me. “Eyes on me sweet girl.” I wish I could take a picture, capture the pensive look on her face. The scrunch of her nose, the way her lips part to say my name. She grabs the hand under her jaw and slides it against her own, intertwining our fingers and laying them against the bed. Ah, now i get it. 

“Oh sweetheart, you need me to hold your hand huh?” I fake pout down at her as I start a slow rhythm. “Shut up, oh fuck Osc.” Her back bows as I lift her legs over my hips, making me hit deeper. 

All that can be heard throughout the room is skin colliding and y/n’s whines of pleasure. Watching her like this, wearing my number, my winning number, fuck me I don’t know what heaven looks or sounds like but it’s this. “Jesus Christ, this was such a b-bad ah! Bad idea, fuck I’m gonna cum to quickly.”  She smiled and brought my hand to her throat, knowing how much the control turned me on. 

“C’mon Ozzy, baby, cum in me. please god want it so bad.” Y/N gasped out as I lightly squeezed her throat. The pace I set was bruising, the thought of getting to cum inside my girl, my Y/N-

With my free hand I reached down to play with her clit, determined to get her to cum before me. She pushed her throat against my hand as she moaned my name and came. I could see the white ring form around the base of my cock, that pushing my to cum in her. 

let’s just say it’s not the last time she’ll be wearing my number.

#formula one #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x female reader #mclaren #formula one imagine

[f1-giuki]

hey giu it’s wizzz can I request from your Drabble thing, if u feel like: obsessed by Olivia rodrigo, and the pairing is carloscar 👀🍊🌶️

my lawyer will be in contact soon, it is illegal in every country to give such good prompts and make me scream into the void!!!!!!!! THE SONG AND THE THEME AND THE PAIRING IS SO GOOD!!!! i added gratuitous and freaky smut for you 💖💖💖💖 hope you like it darling it ended up being quite long!!💖💖

obsessed - prompt post

“Lando, mate, how was your ex called?” Carlos asks one afternoon.

They’re lazing on the sunroof of Ferrari’s hospitality in Spain. Lando doesn’t know why Carlos brought him there, but he’s not going to complain. He loves the sun on his skin and a tan won’t hurt him.

“Luisa?” Lando answers, absent-mindedly.

Carlos looks at him and furrows his brows. He is sure Lando is lying, but he doesn’t know how he knows. It may have something to do with Charles’ wild party after his first Monaco win. He’s sure Lando told him something about regretting breaking up with someone, he just doesn’t remember who.

“No, last week you said someone else, at the party, remember?” He asks again.

“Shit, Carlos, what have I said? I don’t remember…” Lando says, taking his eyes off his phone and looking at Carlos. The Spaniard is not buying it.

“It was a dude, O-something, I don’t remember the name,” Carlos digs.

“What? Olivia, maybe?” Lando says, going back to his phone and the sun.

“I’m not stupid, and I don’t care if you fucked a guy…” Carlos points out, a bit whiny.

Lando shakes his head and puts his sunglasses on, hoping the conversation will stop soon. Carlos lets the subject drop, externally, but he keeps on thinking about it. He’s not interested in Lando. That bit is sure. He doesn’t like guys, he tried once with Charles and he didn’t like it. If it doesn’t happen with Charles, then everybody else can’t count. He’s just curious. There’s this feeling inside of him that wants to know and get his hands on that specific and deep piece of knowledge about his friend, and he can’t stop.

While Lando is napping under the sun Carlos takes his phone out and starts texting left and right, asking if anybody knows the identity of Lando’s ex. The first ten texts he receives are all disappointing, but the eleventh is something strange. It’s from Max and it just tells him a simple ask Oscar :).

Lando is asleep, so Carlos leaves him there, under the hot sun of Barcelona. He walks down the stairs of the hospitality, greets a few people and steps into the Mclaren building. Nobody questions him, he was family, and he impeded Oscar twice in the latest session of free practice, he can hide behind the falsehood of an apology. He walks the way of the driver’s rooms and spots Oscar’s easily. That was his, after all.

He opens the door, without knocking, and finds Oscar inside, in a comfy papaya hoodie and jeans. He looks like he’s about to leave the circuit. Oscar looks up at the sudden invasion of privacy and raises an eyebrow.

“Well? An apology?” He asks, tiredly.

“Not here for bullshit.” He says and Oscar rolls his eyes. Expected. “Who was Lando’s ex? I’ve been told you know it.” Carlos continues, slamming the door shut.

Oscar looks at him and rolls his eyes to the sky. Again. “What is wrong with you?” He asks, flat and not really interested.

“He told me, I forgot, we were drunk, and he won’t say anything now. You know, so tell me!” Oscar grins, a bit sadistically. He’s enjoying the desperation on the Spaniard’s face. It suits him, eyes wide like a hurt prey in imminent danger. Carlos locks the door as if to prove a point and Oscar laughs. He’s going to have so much fun.

“I am…” Oscar says, simply, looking at Carlos straight in the eyes.

The revelation comes crashing onto him. Oscar. Oscar Piastri is Lando’s ex. Now that’s a situation he needs to explore, map out with utmost care and detail. He must know all about it, he needs to know all about it, he must soothe that obsession of his. And he will do it, but there’s a more pressing problem. A problem pressing against his jeans and straining his underwear.

“Does knowing the fact that I used to fuck Lando excites you?” Oscar asks, with an amused little smile.

Carlos shakes his head but Oscar can see right through him. It’s making him go feral.

Oscar simply sighs. He gets up from his couch and takes the two steps separating him from Carlos. The Spaniard steps back until he’s squished against the locked door. Oscar doesn’t do anything strange at first, he looks into those big brown eyes, and then sinks down on his knees, slowly, keeping eye contact with Carlos.

He unbuckles the Spaniard’s trousers and drags them down against his thighs. Carlos shivers and whimpers pathetically, slapping a hand over his mouth to keep quiet. He’d like to tell Oscar to stop, to get the fuck away from him, but he can’t. His dick is so hard.

Oscar hooks a finger underneath the elastic band of Carlos’ underwear and drags them down too, breaking eye contact just to look at the dark hair around the base of the cock in front of his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks back up in Carlos’ eyes and starts sucking the tip, implicitly gloating when the Spaniard has to bite his hand to keep quiet.

It’s humiliating, all it takes for Carlos is for Oscar to deepthroat him in one swift motion, and then he’s coming down his throat unannounced. Oscar doesn’t say anything, he milks him dry and then releases him, licking his lips.

Carlos looks at him scared and speechless and drags up his underwear and jeans in one go, as fast as he can, praying to God that he closed the zipper too and that nobody heard him before he leaves, not saying a word.

“Freak,” Oscar mumbles, cleaning cum from his lips with his fingers, as Carlos slams the door open and runs away.

#carloscar #carcar???? #carloscar fic #oscar piastri fanfic #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 rpf fic #ao3 #carloscar smut #lovely wiz

[katieboo13]

Would anybody be interested in me posting this fic, which I’m currently finishing, on AO3?

It’s a song inspired fic inspired by Act My Age by Hoodie Allen. The papaya boys fit it so well.

Oscar pov

McLaren must have some sick sense of humor. Their latest social media video idea is to have us, the youngest team on the grid, play with nostalgic childhood toys. No wonder everyone looks at Lando and I like we’re so child like, even the pr team is fucking leaning into it.

With two weekends in a row of the papaya car looking like it belongs in the race, now is the time to get serious and double down on the fact that we deserve to be here. We’re here to compete. With just Spa left before summer break, it’s one last chance to prove that I’m not just a rookie, I’m a future WDC.

And yet, here I am, sitting on these uncomfortable papaya chairs across from Lando who is wearing a facial expression that conveys that he is much more excited than I to be playing with children’s toys.

That’s the thing you have to love about Lando, he lives life with an air of childlike happiness. Sure, he’s spent time with his Monaco based best friend Max “I’m going to adopt the Kimi Raikkonen press strategy” Verstappen, but generally Lando is like a glass of champagne— sweet and bubbly, and you can help but join in on the laughter and smiles after a while around him.

He’s survived his rookie year, he’s gone through two older and more experienced teammates, he is loved by the grid and fans alike. And yet, around me he isn’t the wiser older teammate, but more like a class clown. Trying to break my façade and encouraging me to loosen up.

Easier said than done.

And he must know. I’m stressed beyond belief. I’ve seen the revolving door of teammates at McLaren. They’re willing to invest in youth but I know I need to be up to their standards or I might be packing my bags. Even at Prema, I was never the outgoing or fun seeking teammate.

I have seen the YouTube video comments. It’s not that I didn’t enjoy and encourage the antics of Fred, Robert, Arthur, and Logan— I just have a dream, a goal, and a need to focus to get there.

Logan understands. We grew up together. He saw me build confidence in myself, and I him. Despite what the racing world thinks of the American pilot, he’s not an off duty frat boy in a fast car, he’s shy and reserved in the paddock. And other drivers can sense it around him too.

We stick together because that’s how it’s always been. I calm him and he calms me. When given the opportunity, like when we are given the larger busses for the drivers parade, I stay with Lo because I know that his presence will regulate my emotions.

But now. In this Papaya room, Lando is having the opposite effect.

He’s squirming in his chair, struggling to get comfortable, and giggling like crazy. Even the media team is getting antsy. And he’s just looking at me. Big puppy eyes and all. Sitting leaned sideways in the chair like a lunatic, laughing. His stubbly beard and mustache he’s so proud of making him look his age in comparison to me.

It’s endearing really. How he can place p2 two weekends in a row, and still be this giddy before a race.

Although, his placing high has led to some interesting team bonding.

After Silverstone I found myself being dragged along with a thrilled Lando, who was practically vibrating with excitement. A second place finish in your home Grand Prix is certainly worth celebrating, but my fourth place was not. And yet he had convinced me to do a shoey on stage. His big puppy eyes, skin coated in sticky sweet champagne, and a crowd behind him watching my resolve crumble.

That’s where it all started. Somehow that resulted in me, being dragged into a hotel lift by a somewhat equally intoxicated Lando. The world was spinning by and my skin felt gloriously warm. Lando was hiccuping and giggling at us every time we tripped over our own feet.

Once inside the lift, Lando looked at me with an intensity that I’m not sure my sober self even now, two weeks later, can unpack. Suddenly I was not so sure what the cause of the heat on my skin was. Because even my ex girlfriend had never looked at me like she was that… hungry?

I hadn’t even intended to get this inebriated. But Lando kept buying us drinks. And I kept finishing them. And now.

Now I’m looking at this man, my older teammate, as he grabs a Barbie doll still in her box, and I can even feel the doe eyed dopey look on my own face. Lando breaks my internal struggle by waving poor Barbie in my face.

Can’t he act his own age?

After the video has been filmed and we are released for the day, only mildly worse for the wear— the audience now knows I might have consumed some play dough as a child— I stop him in the hall.

“Can’t you act your age?”

“Mate why would I want to… we missed out on being normal teenagers. Went to races on weekends and not secondary school parties. I was worried about racing license points, and not having a fake ID to get into pubs. Everybody else is growing up and getting jobs and isn’t going out and getting drunk, but I want to. We deserve to act a little childish.”

His response makes sense, but not at all. I gave up everything in order to get here. Now is not the time to just party.

“Osc, let me show you that growing up is lame. Let me show you why it’s a good thing to not act my age.”

Osc.

He called me a nickname.

Fuck.

My stomach didn’t just flip at the use of the nickname from my teammate. My face isn’t going red. My neck isn’t hot. And Lando definitely isn’t looking at me like a man who knows what he has done.

Nope.

#f1 #lando norris #oscar piastri #mctwinks #smut #well smut eventually