InfiniteNutshell
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Summary
Lando’s pit crew fucks it. Big time.
And in the chaos Oscar swoops past on the undercut.
But the controversial swap back leaves Lando… worried.
Does Oscar hate him now?
He has to find out.
All he needs is one conversation. That'll sort things out between them, yeah?
AKA: A short Landoscar fic inspired by their race in Monza 2025, and the public opinion fallout afterwards, also all the little Landoscar moments throughout the race & press conferences!Note: This fic is part of the series of Landoscar novellas based on the real races I'm writing, each story is standalone but together they follow an extended plot if you're looking for something longer, or more Landoscar content!
Series
- Part 2 of Landoscar Race Novellas
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Summary
“Like, do you fancy being the letterbox or the postman?” He asked with a suggestive raise of his brow. Oscar tilted his head in confusion.
“What?” He said, not quite picking up what Lando was putting down. Lando rolled his eyes fondly before pressing one of his knees in between Oscar’s legs, spreading his thighs apart.
“Come on, you freakin’ muppet. Work with me here,” Lando groaned, his face flushed pink. Oscar let the hand that wasn’t pinned to the bed come to rest on Landos waist.
“I really don’t understand what you mean, mate,”
“Do you wanna fuck or be fucked, mate, I don’t know an easier way to say this!” Lando shouted, a little too loudly for Oscar’s liking given the thinness of their dorm room walls. Oscar felt the heat rising in his cheeks as he let Lando drop his head into his neck.
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Summary
Monza 2025 introduced back Papaya Rules, forcing the team to ask for a drivers swap. Lando stopped smiling after hearing the booing when getting on the podium. Oscar doesn't like when Lando doesn't smile.
✧.*
Or, a self-indulgent little fluffy fic after Monza because we all feel sad and I think about Landoscar way too much lately. It's sweet and soft, enjoy :)
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Maybe Oscar should try reciting the last twenty Formula 1 champions in order in his head, just to be completely sure he won’t cum before anything even happens.
Or, the two-part story about both of Oscar Piastri’s first times.
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Summary
The contract must be certified by a marriage. A mating, as they say. A bite that would conceal.
That’s exactly when Oscar’s disgrace became handy.
It’s not like, by any means, Oscar expected to grow old in the castle, lurking in dark corners and fantasizing about an easier life. Still, being forced into mating a stranger was not his ideal plan either.