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It was staring at Oscar like a bad decision. This high-necked, long-slit, black piece of fabric that somehow held some sort of power over her.
It was literally a dress; she wasn’t sure why she was so terrified.
George and Charles wore dresses all the time. Hell, George single-handedly petitioned the FIA for women to be able to wear whatever bottoms they wanted to stop the whole silly skirt measurement rule they had for female members of staff.
But yet, after the season she’d had, her biggest fear was something women all over the world wore every single day.
Oscar stared at it, her usually scraped-back long hair in two soft braids down her back. She’d even painted her nails, which was making this whole thing harder because she was a habitual nail biter, but she refused to chip the gels she’d paid for. Not like she was sort of cash, but still, it was the principle.
This dress was her statement. All year she’d been compared to Max and Lando.
Oscar Piastri races like a man
Oscar Piastri isn’t stupidly emotional like other girls, it’s what makes her the race driver she is
If more girls behaved like Oscar Piastri then maybe we’d have more female f1 drivers
It diminished the very little of her femininity. Made her feel like the boyish, awkward person she was. She wasn’t parading herself around the paddock, in Max Verstappen's back pocket like Charles. And she certainly bitching and moaning like George did every time something wasn’t going her way.
Or at least that's what the press said.
What the press didn’t mention was the fact two out of the four race winners this season had been women , and there was only three of them on the grid, and Charles had certainly come close, especially with the car she’d been given.
Oscar didn’t exactly help herself either. She never presented herself in a feminine way. Long shorts and T-shirts, the occasional pair of jeans that fit her awkwardly. Too big on the waist and too small on the hips and thighs. She’d just never cared about her appearance. Well until now.
The dress was tailor made by a local designer in Monaco, who had absolutely jumped at the chance to work with an F1 Driver, even if she knew that they wished it was Charles asking for a dress. It had a high neck, and a long slit that showed the outside of Oscar’s long leg. It was pretty simple in design, it was plain black, but her silver shoes really stole the show. It made her taller. She’d never exactly worn heels before, but after a few stumbles in Charles apartment, she’d gotten quite comfortable in the sticks that were stuck on the bottoms of her shoes.
The worst part was the underwear. Oscar was a sensible sports bra and cotton knickers type of girl. But when she realised it wasn’t exactly going to cut it under her dress, she’d forced George and Charles to help her out.
It wasn’t like it was hard to convince them, they’d been wanting to dress Oscar up for the longest time now. The whole thing was incredibly awkward for Oscar and a wet dream for Charles. She took the lead, picking out elaborate styles of knickers. Oscar wasn’t even sure she knew how to put half this stuff on.
It also shocked Oscar to learn her tits were bigger than the last time she’d bought bras. Then again, that was when she was freshly eighteen and wanting to impress some boy in sixth form who turned out to be a complete dork and came within five minutes. But she’d also developed curves and a bum since then as well. Since starting in F1, she’d filled out properly, her weight seeming to distribute to the right places, thanks to Attauri.
And it wasn’t like people didn't notice either. Slower her team kit was swapped out for mediums instead of extra smalls, and engineers were less handsy with her for fear of “claims” and calls to HR.
That didn’t stop her team mate though.
Obviously.
Of course sex crazed Lando Norris commented when Oscar’s shirts started to strain in the awkward way across her bust. He was a nightmare. If Oscar didn’t have such a huge crush on him she would’ve probably reported him years ago, but secretly she enjoyed it. Liked the way he held onto her waist a little too tight when they celebrated 1,2’s. Or when he’d stare at her chest a little too long after she’d been doused in champagne. Or kept his helmet on when Oscar stood in front of him in the post-race weigh-ins so he could ogle Oscar’s arse.
It wasn’t like it meant anything. Lando was seeing someone anyway. A perfect little blonde thing that Oscar had absolutely nothing in common with. Oscar did her best to be polite and make small talk but would get away with ignoring her most of the time citing “championship battle focus” which obviously she believed.
The media had made out that Oscar and Lando had hated each other during this season's championship battle, but if anything it made them closer. They’d spent more time checking in with one another, making sure that the other wasn’t being too hard on themselves. It was nice. To have someone who knew exactly what you were going through. They knew deep down one of them was going to lose, but they liked to ignore that until the day Lando had that champagne sprayed on him.
Which led them to now.
The official FIA prize giving. In previous years Oscar hadn’t exactly gone all out. She’d worn the same dress for the three times she’d won rookie of the year, and then last year wore an ill fitting black dress and called it a day. This year however, she was going all out.
So fuck it. She took the garment bag down and made her way to the car McLaren sent so they could fly PJ. It was a little excessive, but Zak had insisted on it. Oscar now had to think of ways to distract herself while Lando and Magui cuddled on the seats opposite her, desperately reminding her of single she was, and how she really needed to get some.
The whole championship battle had really put the breaks on Oscar’s sex life. Not that it had been insane before this season, but at least it was present. Now she was four months dry, with just her vibrator to keep her company on nights where everything felt a little more lonely.
Lando also knew she wasn’t a complete prude, the whole team had seen her kiss guys or the occasional girl on drunken nights out. Swap stories about an ex of hers. The worst night was when they’d crossed paths in the hotel hallway, Lando sneaking a girl in and Oscar sneaking a man out. They’d made the silent sensible decision to never speak about it again. Lando had enjoyed however, the next morning watching Oscar splutter on her coffee when he’d asked if she’d had a satisfying evening. She was pale enough to display every blush and this one bloomed beautifully across her face.
She haphazardly checked her bag, making sure she’d not forgotten anything, desperately trying not to think about the lacy black lingerie in the bottom of her bag burning a hole through the middle. Her biggest fear was Andrea or worse Zak finding it, hence why she kept it in a bag inside her bag.
A very sleepy London rolled past her, doing her best to keep her eye open as they rolled into the private terminal.
Oscar knew that Lando would already be there. He always scheduled his cars fifteen minutes earlier than McLaren did, because the guy hated being late. They hadn’t spoken much post Abu Dhabi. Lando was clearly giving Oscar some space to grieve the championship, but if this plane was at least going to be something, it meant Lando would have to talk to Oscar no matter what.
His eyes lit as she walked through the sliding glass doors, small rolling suitcase, dress bag slung over the top and backpack firmly on her shoulders.
Lando stood up, out stretching his arms to pull Oscar into one of those hugs she fantasized turning into something deeper.
“Osc!” Lando pulled back, his curls slightly damp around his temples. He smelt clean, like fresh washing. He was wearing a simple white T-shirt and black joggers, but she couldn’t help but notice that he was alone. She glanced to his side puzzled
“Is Magui not here yet?” That smile dropped, and he shifted over uncomfortably.
“Magui’s not coming. We… we broke up the morning after the race” his voice was so quiet, Oscar had to dip to his level to hear him.
“Oh… oh I’m stupid I’m sorry Lan” she placed a hand on his thigh in comfort. She knew that always grounded her when she was upset. He turned to look at her with those big eyes and just shrugged.
“Nono it’s fine. Mutual innit. We’re just in different places right now” he said, a fake positivity in his voice. It didn’t look like different places from the photos he saw of the pair of them together from the darkness of her hotel room. If anything it looked more like Magui was halfway down Lando’s throat, very much in the same place. Not that she was actively looking. It just so happened to come up on her timeline when she was mindlessly scrolling twitter reading the awful things people were calling her after the biggest loss of her life so far.
Her favourite was ‘bottlejob’
Lando drummed on his own thighs atop of Oscar’s hand, clearly itching to change the subject. “Anyway” he finally broke, “how’ve you been?”
A thick silence hung over the terminal. Awkward and stuffy like it was the taboo topic no one wanted to bring up.
“Does it feel like this forever?” Oscar finally asked, eyes darting to the floor and voice barely above a whisper. It has been tough, she’d cried a few times, thought she wasn’t good enough for any of this. But Lando shook his head.
“It becomes drive eventually. It never heals completely, but it just got subtler over time. Less obvious. You’re stronger than me so you’ll be absolutely fine” he smiled courteously.
She wished he could hate him. She thought it’d be easier if they hated each other. The fact Lando was still kind about him made it worse.
They sat in silence for a little bit. The tension crackled in the air, if you weren’t careful it’d shock you.
“I brought you that mocha you said you liked by the way” Lando broke the silence, trying to shift the tone, nudging a plastic cup across to her. Oscar thanked him, taking a sip of the chocolatey coffee, letting the sweetness hit her lips. Lando knew the best coffee spot, because he’d always arrive at MTC with a plastic cup and a smile for Oscar.
“You are going to have to take me here sometime because it’s incredible I need to thank the baristas”
Oscar sipped again, and Lando laughed, softly, nodding in agreement. Muttering something she couldn’t quite catch. He watched her carefully as she pressed her lips against the blue and white straw, licking his plush bottom lip with something hungry.
Eventually Andrea and his wife showed up. Andrea was considerably less intimidating in the mornings, and the rest of the team began to drift in, making that quiet little moment between the two of them seem like a distant memory. It got noisy quickly and Oscar was just glad for her headphones on the plane.
The jet was a little bigger than last year. There were considerably more of them which didn’t always help, but Oscar remembered the fact they’d played strip poker last year, and suddenly the extra bodies made sense.
Marketing had had an aneurysm when they saw that photo of Lando shirtless, with multiple poker cards splayed out on the desk. Oscar looked at him in that way she didn’t even realise she did.
“At least it wasn’t Oscar with her top off” was Lando’s response when prompted for one. Which still to this day made Oscar smile. Oscar would’ve never been stupid enough to lose. In the end she’d ended up taking off a sock on her hoodie in comparison to Lando who’d ended up shirtless and on the internet. Growing up around men who raced RC cars taught her a lot of things, but number one was how to win at poker, which she was always invited to, just so long as she didn’t tell her mum.
Oscar picked a spot by the window, slightly out the way from everyone else. She was still recovering from that loss, if anything, and she wanted to sit with her headphones on and listen to sad indie girl music and fall asleep.
But when she felt a press of legs on her lap about thirty minutes into the flight, she knew that wasn’t happening.
She cracked one eye, to see a gap tooth grin smiling at her, hands in first under his chin, as if he was a child in a beauty pageant.
“Whattcha listening to” Lando asked, in the sickly sweet voice he only used when he wanted something.
“Lizzy McAlpine” Oscar replied shortly, trying to make it as clear as she could that she was not in the mood for this conversation. Oscar, despite being a millionaire, still used her wired headphones on planes because she liked the way the sound over the hum of the plane. Lando reached across and pipped on out of her ear and shoved it into his own. She watched his face go through about six emotions at once before landing on some screwed up face.
“Jesus Osc, that is depressing” he commented.
“Yeah well it’s not for you” she snapped, rolling her eyes. As if Lando Norris’s tiny male brain could comprehend Doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine.
“I think you should get a choice in the death of you Osc” he was listening to the lyrics then. She smirked, jerking her thigh, causing his legs to jump. He swung them down and patted his own lap to get Oscar to put her legs up. He did this to her whenever she needed comfort or something like that.
“What do you want, come on out with it” Oscar sighed as Lando started tracing little patterns above the cuffed ankle of her dark blue joggers.
Lando scoffed and put a hand over his chest in mix offence, “How dare you assume I want something! Maybe I just wanted to spend time with my beautiful teammate”
Beautiful. Oscar’s mind froze there for a second before squawking a laugh like she was supposed to do. She watched a tiny knot between Lando’s brows set in before, he too laughed.
“I’ve been your teammate for three years now, Lando Norris. I know when you want something”
“Are you sure?” His tone dropped, a gravellier hushed tone she didn’t recognise, “because I’ve wanted something very specific for a long time now and you’ve not seemed to notice” he cocked an eyebrow and Oscar tried to ignore that tight feeling in her lower belly she always got when Lando got possessive of her. His fingers seemed to grasp around her ankle, tighter than usual.
“Lando… I-.”
“Hey Lando! Oscar!” Zak’s thick American accent cut through whatever tension was there, “come on we’re taking a photo” and Oscar sprang up to sit with the team, happy to be away from whatever that was.
As she smiled for the photo, she felt a sharp tug on her braid, she turned and was met with Lando’s smiling face.
“You’re not off the hook that easy Piastri.” He whispered into her ear, letting his hot breath seep into her ear canal. Oscar fought with herself, not to let a moan slip from her lips. And she spent the rest of the flight with her legs clamped shut, trying to ignore the growing moisture in her knickers.
As they stepped off the plane they were greeted with flowers, smiles and congratulations. Oscar wasn’t too sure what she personally was being congratulated for but she took it anyway, politely smiling back.
Once she reached the hotel she knew she was safe. Both of them were on a strict get ready time limit that didn’t leave them with much time to think about the other.
As she stepped into the shower, Oscar let whatever dirty thoughts she’d had on the plane wash away, scrubbing her hair and body with that rose scented shampoo she’d been using since she was a kid. She imagined the way Lando’s hands would slide down her sides and into her-.
Nope she thought, she was not allowing herself to get off to Lando Norris again.
There was a whole team of people coming to do her hair and make up, the least she could do was wash her hair and finish her shower in a respectful manner.
After she’d wrapped in one of the hotel's complimentary dressing gowns, there was a knock at the door. As she opened it there was a clatter of makeup brushes and hairspray wafting through the room. She never quite got everyone’s names, but she sat as still as she could, letting them work their magic.
“So!” The lady working on putting her hair into rollers said, “that teammate of yours, he’s cute” she giggled, as she wrapped Oscar’s long hair around a large circular roller.
“Urm I mean… yeah, I guess” she couldn’t exactly find the words to say that she’d been in love with him since the first day she’d seen him race in F3 and that nothing would ever happen between them because they loved being teammates too much.
“Oh. You don’t play for that team, do you?” The lady’s eyebrows raised, Oscar felt her face go crimson, “Don’t worry babe, I know loads of lesbians, I’m sure there’s some football player out there for you”
Oscar chose to keep her mouth shut. She didn’t not like girls, but she knew she definitely liked boys, too. She thought the concept of bisexual people was pretty obvious in 2025, but maybe not.
After being poked and prodded for about an hour, she looked at herself in the bathroom mirror as she slipped into her dress. She still looked like Oscar, just more refined. Her hair curled perfectly, sitting just above her new black lace bra, not scraped back in its usual ponytail or plaits. The lingerie somehow accentuates her natural curves, and doesn’t make her broad shoulders look overly large like usual. Charles was a bloody genius. She made a mental note to thank you when she saw her.
She stepped into the long black dress and pulled it up over her body, making sure her grandmother's locket was still on show and trying not to ruin the perfect pression of her hair. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and double took quickly. She didn’t look like awkward boyish race driver Oscar, she looked like real woman Oscar Piastri. She stepped out of the bathroom and received some final touches from the prep team before finally seeing herself, truly done up.
She couldn’t quite believe that the girl in the mirror was her. The girl in the mirror was polished and perfect, even though she had buck teeth and big thighs. It didn’t matter because the way her dress hugged her waist and showed off her body was practically unheard of for her. It wasn’t an awkward team polo that didn’t quite fit her right; it was something that was truly made for her. Not something Charles or George could take, something for Oscar Piastri and only Oscar Piastri.
“Now or never”, she whispered to herself, placing her room keycard in a small clutch and exhaling deeply, ready for the world to see how she truly looked when she put in the effort.
As she descended down the long note spiral staircase, she realised she was the last one. Zak and Andrea stood chatting to Lando, whose back was firmly to Oscar. His broad shoulders and perfect curls looked so prince-like in the beautifully lit lobby; it made her stomach lurch with desire.
She was about to apologise for being so late when Zak whistled at her entrance.
“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Oscar Piastri in heels?” Andrea joked, poking his tongue out, which made Oscar smile. One of those big, wide ones that she only smiled when she truly felt beautiful.
Lando spun around, clearly expecting the same as last year, but his smug grin soon dropped into a slack jaw and wide eyes. He exhaled a long breath that he only did when he was admiring something. She’d seen him do it when he was looking at a trophy, but never at her. She blushed as his eyes roamed all over her. She jokingly spun around to whistles from Zak and Andrea, doing a little curtsy.
She tried not to think about how Lando’s eyes were burning a hole through her body.
“You look lovely, Oscar”, Zak said, his voice sincere. “Okay, boys and girls, let’s get a move on. The victory parade begins,” he smiled, taking off to the large parade of cars waiting outside.
Lando was still standing, staring at her as Oscar took off walking. He grabbed her wrist in that possessive way she burned for. Something low and hungry lurched in her stomach.
“You look fucking incredible”, he whispered, voice low.
Oscar leaned in close to his ear, smirking practically audibly, “Wait until you see what’s underneath it”, as she set off walking, trying not to show him the red blush spreading across her face. She heard the sound of shoes clicking on the marble floor and felt his large hand press against her back, thumbing the outline of her underwear. It made her entire body shake with complete desire.
He helped her in and out of the car, ensuring she was fiercely protected from the paparazzi who were angled dangerously low for Oscar’s liking. They took photos and smiled for endless cameras, and yet all Oscar could think about was the large hand holding her as someone would take her. There were multiple comments on how good she looked and how she scrubs up nicely. Eventually, she felt the loss of Lando’s hands as he was pulled off to his own media duties. The spot where they had sat tingling with a new sensation. She found Charles' eye on the carpet, there on behalf of Max, who was “sick” and also Ferrari, who was getting given some kind of award, so something that just added to the run time in Oscar’s eyes.
Charles just smiled, as she had always known Oscar looked like this; she’d just been revealed to the world now. Her eye had that mischievous glint she only got when she was going to gloat about something.
“Oscar Piastri!” Her voice came, calm and steady, “You are a vision” Charles practically squealed, running her hands up and down the dress as if she’d never seen Oscar look so good, which, in fairness, she probably hadn’t. She made Oscar twirl around so she could see the whole of her, making an extra loud groaning noise when she saw Oscar’s arse, giving it a jokey smack.
“Oi! Hands off Leclerc!” Lando called from over the seats, that low and possessive hum in his voice, it made Oscar practically tremble in her step, and suddenly she didn’t feel so secure in her heels. Charles made a face at Oscar, who had bloomed into a beautiful shade of scarlet, even under the makeup. Lando caught Oscar's gaze and made sure to drag his eyes up and down, just to make 100% sure she wasn’t a mirage, before winking and returning to his conversation with some FIA Official.
“Okay, what was that?” Charles asked, as if the whole exchange was something foreign to her, as if Oscar hadn’t cried to Charles after Monaco when she saw Magui in the garage.
“What was what?” Oscar asked, trying not to show just how excited it had made her. She was still in public for christ sake, she couldn’t risk being called “Heart Eye Piastri’ by Twitter again, a nickname she’d become aware of when scrolling in self-pity one pretty tragic race weekend. It embarrassed her a little, especially because if she knew Lando saw her look like that, he’d think she was desperate for the rest of her life.
“The way Lando is practically undressing you with his eyes? Like he can’t believe you're real,” Charles raised a perfectly arched eyebrow, but with a little smirk like she secretly knew what was going on, like she was egging Oscar on. Oscar gave her a little smack on her arm, as if she were speaking too loudly and everyone in the entire theatre could hear her.
“It’s nothing. You know what he gets like when he sees a girl's legs or something,” Oscar tried to downplay, ignoring her own screams of pleasure and want for Lando to do with her as he pleases.
“Oh, please, Piastri. I know you, and I know him. Let us just say, the WDC Trophy is not the only thing he will be taking home tonight.” Charles said playfully, which made Oscar's ears burn beneath her curls. Thankfully, a voice of god told them all to take their seats, because the show was about to begin
The actual award show was nothing exciting. It was an awful lot of talking and thank yous that Oscar thought could’ve been an email or at least an hour shorter. Zak gave a long speech telling people how they were a real team, which Oscar tried not to roll her eyes at, remembering the awful team orders and favouritism she’d faced this season. She got to present an award and make a small speech, but apart from that, the evening was wholly uneventful.
Until she got back to the hotel.
The lobby was practically empty, only a few workers were milling about. They had an early flight tomorrow that got them back to woking in time for the Christmas party, where Oscar got to wear a gorgeous Red Reiss dress that again puffed out at her waist and made her look like a character in a Hallmark movie, but for now, all she could think about was how Lando Norris seemed to be following her at a rapid pace. She said good night to Zak and Andrea at the elevator as they got off on their floor.
“What floor are you on?” Oscar asked casually, trying not to think about the fact that Lando’s gaze was burning into her side.
“Shut up, Osc” Lando stepped closer to her, close enough for their breaths to mingle, “you have no idea how fucking insane you drive me”, he breathed, hot and heavy into Oscar’s mouth.
He snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her impossibly close. His eyes dropped to her mouth, and finally did everything Oscar had been waiting for.
He pressed his lips into hers, knocking any last breath out of her body. The kiss itself was quick and chaste as he pulled back quickly, looking into her eyes, almost asking if everything was okay.
But as the lift opened on her floor, she took his wrist and pulled him through the winding hotel corridors and swiftly into her room. They just stood there in complete silence for a few seconds before Lando opened his mouth to speak, but Oscar’s brash Aussie accent managed to jump in first.
“I have been completely head over heels for you since the first day I saw you race. I wanted to beat you just so maybe you’d notice me. I hated every single girl you’ve ever brought into the paddock and I know that’s not very feminist of me, but you have no idea how much I have wanted you for-.”
The rest of her speech was cut off by Lando’s lips crashing onto hers, grabbing her back, like it was going to anchor him. This kiss was deeper, hungrier, like neither of them could waste another second exploring each other. Oscar’s hands ran down his biceps and began pulling his blazer off to try to get a better feel of everything. Sure, she’d seen Lando topless many times, but that didn’t make her any less desperate to see a small sliver of tanned skin.
Lando was doing some exploring of his own, mainly straight down to Oscar’s arse to give it a firm squeeze and begin pushing her back toward the bed. She felt like jelly in his arms, like even if she wanted to push back, her limbs simply betrayed her, and she couldn’t spend much longer on her feet.
The backs of her knees hit the bed, and she sank, letting her lips leave Lando’s for a moment. Looking up at him with those huge shining eyes of hers and not taking them off him as she unbuckled her heels, while Lando slowly began undoing buttons.
She laid back, slowly. She hardly felt seductive, more giddy and awkward, but when Lando dragged his eyes up her, she knew something must be working. He dropped down next to her, placing a chaste kiss on her neck.
He slid a strong hand up the slit of her dress, allowing himself to feel up her thighs and over her knickers, which were now embarrassingly wet. Just kissing him and feeling the small in his arms was enough to turn her on.
“Fuck”, Lando whispered, dipping his fingers into his mouth and tasting Oscar. Oscar then grabbed his wet hand and shoved his fingers deep into her mouth, tasting her in a way she never experienced before. Lando’s head dropped back onto the headboard as Oscar sucked, pushing his long fingers into her mouth, down past his knuckle, letting her teeth catch ever so slightly as she sucked (which, if anything, was just the way it had to be, taking into account her massive front teeth). She never stopped staring at him, either. They caught eyes for a moment. Lando looked ridiculously pretty with his shirt open and his mouth equally as wide, his long eyelashes fluttering against his tanned skin. Eventually, Oscar lost her taste and began using her hands to push the open shirt off his shoulders and down his arms.
“You only want to get me naked?” Lando teased, pushing an eyebrow up as he let the shirt fall off his back, revealing his taut stomach and strong pecs, he tutted, reaching his hand up Oscar’s dress again, drawing small circles against her inner thigh, “God Piastri, I thought you were different but it’s clear you only want me for my body” He poked a small pink tongue out, and Oscar just rolled her eyes.
“That tongue would be so much better placed somewhere else”, and she reached her hands to the back zipper of her dress, and began to pull it down slowly, being overly conscious not to rip it; she wanted to wear this again; it was custom-made for christ sake. She wriggled it slowly down her hips and legs, rather unsexily, before looking back at Lando. Clearly, he’d seen something else, because his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his head. A deep exhale escaping his lips.
Usually on race weekend, she’d wear these high-impact sports bras and men’s boxers because she found them most comfortable to race in, but now, in lingerie, everything had changed.
Lando stared at her, then her tits, then at her. His mouth dropped open to say something, but he couldn’t. Oscar threw a hand over her face to stop herself from going so red it was a warning, but Lando simply tugged it away and removed it.
“You are so fucking beautiful, Oscar Piastri,” He murmered into her ear, sending a tingle down her spine and a hot coil in her stomach.
He began kissing her neck, sucking small bites that made her thankful her makeup team were helping her out tomorrow for the Christmas party, as she would be clueless at covering them up. His hands dipped under the black lace of her bra, thumbing Oscar’s nipple, which went hard under his touch, causing her to buck her hips up toward him. Oscar squirmed beneath him, but Lando simply put a hand on her shoulder, pinning her down beneath him.
“Here’s what’s gonna happen. You are going to lie here and I am going to do whatever the fuck I want to you, and make you feel good” His voice was low and possessive and Oscar reached a hand down to palm his now fully erect cock, and nod, “Words Osc, I can’t do anything if you don’t use your words” he smirked manically as he continued to thumb Oscar’s over sensitive nipples as she tried not to completely fall apart beneath him. Words were probably the least of her concerns right now.
“Mmpf…Fuck…Lando” She managed to eek out, but Lando wasn’t satisfied, as he removed his hand from down her bra, leaving her touchless and cold. She needed his hands back on her body again, the touch warm and gentle on her sensitive pale skin, “Yes, please, Lando” she whimpered, watching his eyes become completely blown, and smile manically.
“Good girl,” He said, eager to see how she’d react. He must’ve known she liked it, from all the times she said she hated Mark calling her it. She never gave a reason why, but her manager calling her a good girl wasn’t her proudest wank. Lando clearly remembered, though, and stored it like a little secret weapon for this very moment. His hand ran down her back, unclasping her bra with one hand, freeing her tits from the cage.
“Nice trick. Bet you’ve practised that one loads,” she smiled
“You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?” he replied, licking his lips and not looking at her face, “Oscar…” He teased, running his hands across the deep set of her collarbone, “Lose control. Let me be the one in charge tonight.”
He threw Oscar’s bra to the side and began working his mouth across Oscar’s nipples, licking and sucking and biting like this was his only source of oxygen.
“Fuck Lando… Fuck” Oscar cried, letting herself feel that little ounce of pleasure she’d wanted to feel since the start of the season. With Oscar’s free hand, she reached down to Lando’s trousers, running a thumb over the head of Lando’s cock. He bit slightly harder when she did so. Lando made his way down her stomach until his head was just barely visible. His fingers reached the waistband of Oscar’s knickers, which were now completely soaked through, and he pressed his nose to the cotton of the gusset and inhaled deeply, letting his tongue jolt out and lick the cotton. He pulled them down with a disgusting squelch before pocketing them.
Oscar opened her mouth to say something, but it was cut off by the moan that left her lips as Lando stuck his tongue into her dripping cunt. Suddenly, she didn’t care about her stomach or how her thighs were too big; she was perfectly content for Lando to live between her legs and let him do what he wanted. Oscar grabbed his curls and tugged, almost to anchor herself. It took everything in her not to ride his face, but as his tongue curled and licked around her cunt, but eventually she relaxed into it more. He sucked her clit sloppily, and she felt that coil in her stomach unwinding, sending the sensation down to where Lando now had his tongue.
“Lando, I’m close,” which just made him go harder, pushing with huge amounts of pressure and spit. She felt her legs begin to shake, and she felt everything within her shift, accompanied by an equally loud moan. Lando stayed down between her legs, catching and sucking every last drop out of her. When he came up to Oscar, his mouth was sticky, and there was a lasting residue of Oscar around his mouth.
Oscar immediately kissed him, tasting her own saltiness on his tongue. His lips felt familiar this time, like she couldn’t quite get away from him, desperate to keep him in her arms.
She couldn't help but notice that Lando is still very much hard, and that won’t go away on its own. She’s also wholeheartedly aware that she’s completely naked beneath Lando, who’s smiled like he’s won the lottery. His grin was stupid and cocky, and all Oscar could do was use some of her own strength to pull him in by his belt loops and push her tongue into his mouth. She reached down mid-kiss and began fumbling with his buttons, desperate to see if what she had felt was real.
“You’re eager”, Lando breathed heavily as he pulled away from the kiss, the little smirk creeping up his face. Slowly and painfully, he pulled down his suit trousers to reveal those skin-tight black boxers he usually wore that made his arse look sinfully good. The worst part was that Lando knew he looked good, and he knew Oscar liked the way he looked; he’d seen her watching him on race day when he peacocked around the paddock, it felt deliberate. She tried not to show it impressed her, but when her eyes subtly widened, Lando knew it’d work. He pulled them down and his cock sprang free.
“Fuck” Oscar whispered, hoping somehow Lando didn’t hear, but when his mouth formed a smirk, she knew he did. She just rolled her eyes and shoved her hands over her face, “of fucking course you have a big dick!”
“What’s that supposed to mean Piastri?” He said, as he used that ridiculous upper-body strength to pull Oscar up and around his waist, “You been looking?”
“How could I not? You walk around half naked constantly,” She groaned, like it annoyed her when in reality she liked to look at his arse
“Don’t act like you don’t stare at me”, He whispered at the lobe of her ear, nipping ever so gently, “you like it, don’t you, baby?”
Baby… Oscar’s brain nearly short-circuited. It felt so possessive, like she was his. His baby. She melted into his lap, trying not to show how much the nickname affected her.
“Don’t act innocent. I know you stare at my tits in my fireproof,” She shot back. Lando grinned against her neck, where he was mouthing small kisses. His breath was hot against Oscar’s neck as he laughed to himself.
“I’m clean by the way and on the pill so don’t…” Oscar breathed, like she’d snapped back into reality for a moment. He just nodded, like he understood.
“Me too”
“You can wear one if you want” she spoke, with a voice so small, “but I prefer…”
“Fuck, that’s so fucking hot”
He pulled her up further, so she was inches away from his dick. He lifted her hips until she was firmly over his cock, he slid a finger up toward her opening, and lined up his head til it was just gently pressing into her. A tiny moan escaped Oscar’s lips, and Lando pushed himself further, til he could feel the warm walls of Oscar.
“Wanted to feel you like this for so long, Osc” He finally bottomed ou,t and Oscar felt full as he began thrusting his hips upward, hitting that bundle of nerves as if it was his job, “You’re so fucking fit. You’re such a little tease, the way you walk around in those baggy jeans, acting like you’re not perfect. The way you fucking teased me in that dress tonight. God, your fucking thighs Osc” He moaned as he brought his obscenely large hands up to Oscar’s tits and held them with an insanely firm grip. Everytime he thrusted, they bounced a little and Lando always smirked when he saw that, like he was in charge of making her do that. Oscar had never ridden anyone before, but if everyone felt like Lando then she could happily do it for the rest of her life.
He was big. Oscar could feel him all over her, but what shocked her was when he replaced his hands with his mouth and starting biting Oscar’s tits all over again. Her nipples were already over sensitive and the overstimulation was pushing her to a second orgasm, but she didn’t care, if it meant she could feel more of Lando, then she would happily push through. Long breathy moans escpaed her mouth as Lando’s thrusts became messier and harder. His thighs started shaking beneath Oscar, he was close now, you could see by the way his eyes glossed over.
Oscar wrapped her arms around him, pushing his head closer to the softness of her breasts, his nose inbetween them as she felt something warm and sticky flush inside of her.
She came almost immediately. Both of their chests heaved as their breathing synced. Lando slowly nosed little kisses in between her cleavage.
The silence wasn’t awkward; it just was. Like both their brains were working overtime to process what had actually just happened. Oscar felt Lando going soft as he laid her back with a new gentleness she’d never experienced from any man. He pulled himself out, letting a gush of something warm down Oscar’s leg. He immediately stood up and ran to the bathroom with a wet flannel and cleaned between her legs; the only noise he made was the quiet sound of his own breathing. Once he was sure Oscar was clean, he threw one of his t-shirts out of his suitcase, just for a little decency. She pulled it on and thanked god it was one of the oversized ones, because she didn’t know how much chance her chest stood of getting into one of the small ones.
Lando wriggled in next to her, and she placed her head on his chest, listening closely to the rhythm of his heart. She looked at him for a second, as if she’d realised what she’d actually done. “I could never tell if your eyes were blue or green. I think they’re the most beautiful thing in the world” Her voice came out quieter than she’d liked, as if she was thinking allowed. Lando inhaled deeply and put a hand in her hair. Not to pull, just to stroke her hair, no one had ever really held Oscar like this before, and yet in all her fantasies, it was always the same scenario, the same person holding her like this. And now? Now it was real.
“Why’d you break with Magui?” Oscar asked, a rare moment of boldness consuming her. She felt Lando’s heart speed up beneath her and could almost hear his brain whirring.
“She wasn’t you”, He finally admitted, after a long stretch of silence.
“What?”
“No one is ever you, Osc. I’ve wanted you since we did that stupid meet the drivers interview, and you’ve given me hell ever since” He smiled, as if remembering it was enough. “Then you became… this confident, beautiful race driver, and you made me want to be better, good enough so I could have you”
“Lando, I’m not-...” But he placed a finger over her lips, refusing every single excuse she was about to make.
“When I saw you at the top of those stairs tonight, I physically could not restrain myself. I didn’t want anyone else to see you. I wanted you all for me, and I still do. I want you to be mine all the time,” He admitted. Oscar physically felt the weight leave his chest; his shoulders relaxed and his breathing slowed.
“Good thing I want to be yours.” Oscar laughed, looking down at her shirt and seeing the large 4 on her chest, “Even if you beat me in every single championship for the rest of our racing lives. I will always want you, Lando Norris.”
“Even when I’m old and forcing the robot celebrities to talk to me after I replace Crofty?” Her eyes met his, and his face had a huge childish grin spread across it.
“Especially then”, And for that one moment, they were each other's, and everything was perfect. Sure, there’d be championship clashes and media drama, but for this moment, in this hotel in the middle of nowhere, everything was perfect.