I WAS ALL OVER HER PT. 3 O.P.
I WAS ALL OVER HER PT. 3 — O.P.
pairings: oscar piastri x reader (romantic/platonic) | lando norris x reader (romantic)
part three of three, link to part one and two here
summary: tensions are at an all time high between the mclaren drivers. y/n makes a choice. lando gets punched, both by reality and a friend.
warnings: pining, missed opportunities, cheating (mentioned), cheating towards the end, 18+ smut, jealous!oscar, toxic!lando, mirror sex, fingering + oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex sorta (stay safe), technically a HEA for oscar x yn? bumpy road to get there, though. lando, i apologise.
word count: 5.5k
authors note: this in no way speaks on my opinion of lando and what his personality may be like, i love him this is purely for the plot <3
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
The Italian sun was warm and for the most part, all you could see was a sea of Ferrari red in the crowd. Not a surprise given it was Monza. The last twenty four hours had been a bit chaotic. Lando got on pole position, and despite everything you were still happy for him. That annoying part of yourself that was a touch too sentimental. Of course it wasn’t that simple, though. McLaren locked out the front row, Oscar starting on P2.
It was obvious to anyone he was hungry. For more, like any other driver but there was simply something different about the way Oscar had been carrying himself lately. After the complicated first win he had in Hungary, the world knew he still felt like he had to prove himself. That wins didn’t have to be handed to him.
You watched, nervous and hands sweating with the heavy headphones over your ears. The drivers had just finished their warm up lap, filing into position. Your eyes flicked between the two McLaren’s, a whole range of complex emotions eating you up inside over the pair of them.
Those red lights lit up one by one, then pouring out of the headphones the infamous words “It’s lights out and away we go!” Engines roared, your jaw fell open.
Oscar overtook Lando’s lead into turn one.
Charles had won, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy for him. A Ferrari driver on top of the podium in Monza was always a sight to behold.
Your breath was held tightly in your lungs however as you watched the Tifosi flood onto the track because there was a bit of commotion going on after the initial post-race interviews of the top three drivers. Oscar finished P2, Lando finished about six seconds behind him and landed P3.
The two McLaren drivers had come to an abrupt stop in the hallway that lead up to the cool down room, their shouting could be heard in the garage despite the roar of the crowd outside. Your stomach dropped, you could barely see them but that didn’t matter. Lando was the main one yelling, Oscar on the other hand had a calm rage about him, his voice sounding more cold than you had ever thought him capable of.
The team looked around awkwardly for a few moments before someone ran to go get Andrea Stella. Not a moment later the team principal threw off his headphones and ran to try and diffuse the situation.
You stood there against the wall, acutely aware of all the cameras that may be filming into the garage. Knowing Netflix was about to have a field day with this. The season had been so messy, and that wasn’t even in regard to your own issues with the drivers but the grid in total.
Messy. What a simple word for such fucked up situations.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
A WEEK AGO, ZANDVOORT
He couldn’t keep his hands off you. Not as he had recklessly driven back to the hotel, not as you rode up the elevator, not as you two stumbled down the hallway to his hotel room. The moment it was in sight he had pushed you against the door, forgetting he was supposed to unlock it first but his mind was on other things.
The feeling of your mouth against his, your nails dragging against his scalp, the way your chest pushed against his in an attempt to get closer. He was consumed by you, not quite believing this was real. Years, he had dreamed about this moment for years. The longing he had felt about getting to touch you like this had driven him to the brink of insanity. He was terrified if he took his hands off you, you’d disappear. That he would wake up alone again in bed, hating what his life had come to despite the building success of his career.
Oscar pressed your body onto the door further, completely covering you with his own body, every nerve ending on fire with a desperate need to be close to you. His hips pressed into yours, a hand cupping your throat while the other tugged at your shirt in a fit of desperation to get at your skin.
Call it demented or sick, but at that moment he wanted to consume you. And he wanted you to do the same to him, to devour him in any way you so pleased.
His tongue danced against yours, teeth hitting and the sounds being made were vulgar but only sent him into a further frenzy. You were right here, giving in as well and he felt like his heart was about to explode.
“Bed,” you gasped out in between kisses barely finding a moment for air.
He didn’t take his mouth off you as he haphazardly dug in his pocket for his wallet, shoving it against the sensor and hoping it would pick up on the hotel key. Not a moment later there was a click and he pushed the door open, one arm wrapping around your waist as he backed you into his room, kicking the door shut behind him. He picked you up, a surprised gasp leaving your lips as he did so. Instead of depositing you on the bed, he sat you down on the desk, arm swiping out and not caring what he knocked over.
His strong hands grabbed at your waist, yanking you to the edge of the bed and his erection pressed snuggly into you. He shuddered at the contact, feeling delirious.
Oscar needed to see you, all of you. Now. His fingers found the hem of your shirt and began to lift. “Arms up,” his voice was soft but commanding, and the blush dusting your face was something he wanted imprinted in his mind for forever.
You did as told, the fabric sliding up and over your head. The shirt fell to the floor soundlessly, his hands resting on your hips as he marvelled at you. Your bra was white cotton, no padding and due to the rain the fabric was practically see through. Hiding nothing and making your hardened nipples stand out. He groaned, not being able to help himself as he lowered his head and pressed a kiss to each one.
“Oscar,” your voice was shy, timid and shaky. He looked up at you, watching with apt attention how you bit your lip and your hands came to rest on his shoulders. “Listen, I know I might not look like a lot of the other-“
He cut you off, grabbing hold of your chin and forcing you to meet his eyes. His expression was stern. “There’s no one else I want this with. Okay? No one, not even as I’m rotting in the earth will there ever be anyone else.” His calloused hands cupped your face, his thumb wiping away a tear that slipped out of your pretty eyes. “You are so beautiful,” he whispered, taking in every minuscule detail that made up your face.
You tugged on his shirt this time and he quickly rid himself of it for you, the cool air of the hotel room hitting his skin. He watched as your eyes raked over him, every line of muscle that adorned his stomach, to his neck, then his face.
“This is wrong.” You said quietly, even as your fingers hooked into his belt loops and tugged him into you again.
“Probably,” he said in return, sliding the straps of your bra off your shoulders before undoing the clasp at the back, watching in adoration as it fell away from you. “But I’ve dreamt of this for years and it’s going to take a nuclear bomb to stop me from fucking you, Angel. I hope you know that.”
Your breath hitched and he blinked before you were pulling him down to meet your wanting mouth again, moaning into the kiss as he began to undo the button and zipper on your pants. The moment felt so surreal. If this did turn out to be a dream, when he woke up he was genuinely considering killing himself. He wouldn’t be able to live with the torment any longer.
He smacked your ass lightly and you yelped, getting the hint and lifting your hips for him so he could slide your pants off. Oscar fell to knees and he tugged off your shoes, then your pants, looking up at you like a deprived man seeking salvation at the altar. You chest was heaving and he watched in fascination the way your breast moved and your ribs expanded. Your pupils were blown wide and hungry.
He placed a hand on each of your knees, slowly pulling them apart as he kept eye contact. Oscar placed hot, open mouthed kisses as he danced up your thigh, closer and closer to where he knew you needed him most. The white cotton of your panties giving off a twisted sense of innocence that made him even more hard, if possible. The white fabric made it easy to tell how wet you were and he could hear his heart beat pounding in his ears knowing that it was all for him. Moving closer, he pressed a warm kiss on your navel, taking in the sweet smell of your perfume and he knew he would die a happy man after this.
Next, he placed a kiss right onto your clit, finding it blindly through your underwear.
You yelped at the contact, hips thrusting up into his face and he couldn’t help but smile. His grin surely wicked as he looked up at you through heavy lidded, lust filled eyes.
You swallowed roughly, “Oscar, please.”
He kissed you again, savouring the taste of you and how drenched your panties were, working you through the thin cotton as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your thighs.
“Oh my god,” your voice was a whine, your nails digging into his scalp. The pain of it quickly fizzled into pleasure though as he moaned into you, mouth following along with your desperate thrusts.
“Please.” You panted, “I need you, Oscar.”
He pulled back, feeling hazy and in utter bliss. “How badly?”
“So fucking much.”
Oscar ripped your underwear off you, leaving red marks where the fabric had snagged against your skin. With one hand splaying against your stomach, he pushed you backward until your back hit the window, neither of you caring who saw. Fuck, you were stunning. Swollen and glistening for him, practically dripping out into his lap with how wet you were.
He could feel your heart beat as he got closer before looking up at you, watching to see your face when he finally tasted you. Lowering himself, he licked long and flat up your cunt, moaning along with you as you trembled violently, your hands digging into his hair to pull him closer.
One arm reached around your thigh, fingers dancing across your hip before he pulled the skin above your pussy taught, exposing you to him fully to get unobstructed access to your clit. With his other hand, he pushed your other knee up and out, wanting you as exposed as possible. He knew there was a mirror behind him, so before he dove back in like a man starved, his rough voice carried out around the room. “Look at yourself.”
You shook your head, clearly embarrassed. “Oscar—“
“If you stop or if you close your eyes, I’ll stop.”
You pouted, the sight devastatingly adorable and he wanted to bite at your lip but he had other things on his list first. He didn’t move until your eyes hesitantly moved to the mirror behind him, breath hitching at the sight of him kneeling between your thighs.
Oscar’s mouth latched onto your clit, sucking harshly but slowly, the paired strokes of his tongue deliberate, and without warrant a shout left your lips. You had smacked a hand over your mouth, but he quickly tugged your hand away, he wanted to hear you.
Hands returning back to his hair, he watched you as you watched yourself come undone against his mouth. Your jaw falling open as two of his thick fingers sunk into your pussy, instantly clenching around him. He must really have amazing self control because he felt like he could cum in his pants then and there.
“So fucking warm,” he said against you, lapping at your clit as your thighs trembled. “And tight, for me.” His fingers set an unrelenting pace, curling up in a come hither motion and he knew he was dragging the pads of his fingers against your g-spot with the way you were screaming his name.
“Oscar!” You threw your head back against the window, still obeying him and keeping your eyes on the mirror. Your hips rutting into his mouth and fingers, desperate for a release.
Your voice sounded like church bells to him and he added another finger, three digits fucking you at a relentless pace. He felt your stomach tighten, fingers clenching around him. You were breathless as you forced the words out, there was even some drool starting to leak from your lips. “I’m— I’m going—“
“Come for me, Angel. Give me all of it.” He didn’t stop, not even as liquid started to spurt out of your pussy, coating his lips and chin as he continued his relentless licking and sucking on your clit, not stopping the thrusting of his fingers and you screamed and clamped your thighs around his head, being sent into absolute overdrive as you twitched against him. Your orgasm was violent, and he wasn’t letting up.
“Oscar, oh my god.” Your voice was hoarse and rough, followed by another orgasm that completely shattered you as you convulsed against him. He was a moaning mess, pre-cum soaking through his boxers and trousers. You yanked his head back by his hair and he let go of your clit with a resounding pop.
“Greedy.” You teased through panting breaths, a delirious smile on your face and he couldn’t help but share it.
“You taste like heaven.” He leaned in again, gently licking a long stripe up your entrance, collecting whatever wasn’t on his face or on the floor. You shuddered against him as he placed a light kiss against your clit.
He watched as you stood up on trembling legs, his hands coming up to rest on the back of your thighs as he stared up at you from where he was, still on his knees. Your fingers brushed his hair back from his eyes, taking in his face and swollen lips, but his brows started to furrow as your eyes began to water.
“What’s wrong?” He said quietly, pulling you to him so he was hugging you around your legs, resting his chin on your stomach as he looked up at you.
Shaking your head, you wiped the tears away and smiled. “I’m happy. And I’m mad we waited so long.”
“Yeah,” Oscar said softly, giving you a warm smile as he slowly stood up, his fingers dragging up your body as he went. He cupped your throat with both hands as he got to his feet, pressing his thumbs up under your chin to tilt your face to him. He kissed you gently, yet there was still a rough desperation underlined in it. “It’s a good thing I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
Your eyes glowed, “Yeah?”
“Mhm,” he hummed, turning you and backing you up slowly till the back of your knees hit the bed and he lightly shoved you onto the mattress. He watched you carefully as he began to undo his belt, watching as your eyes traced down his toned stomach, down his happy trail, and to the obvious bulge in his trousers.
“What do you have in mind?” Your voice was timid, but clearly excited as you then sucked in a sharp breath as he took off his trousers and boxers in one go, his cock twitching at the cool air in the room and the tip was glistening and red.
“Oh, Angel.” He walked forward, slowly climbing over you and parted your thighs with his knee. He lowered his face, nipping at your neck gently before his hot breath danced over your ear. “I’m going to ruin you.”
He took hold of himself, dragging the tip up and down your entrance and he just about came undone there and then. This had to last, he needed it to last.
Oscar’s eyes locked onto yours before he sunk in, burying himself to the hilt and a loud groan left him while you moaned, throwing your head back against the sheets. You were devine. Warm, wet, already spasming around him. He was losing his hold on his sanity as he slowly pulled back out, then slammed back into you with a brutal thrust.
“I hate that he got to fucking touch you.” The words had slipped out before he realised what he had said. But he meant every syllable.
“I know,” you gasped out, nails dragging against his back, surely leaving red streak marks but he didn’t care.
Oscar had driven himself mad knowing that Lando got to see you like this. Got to feel what it was like to have you wrapped around his cock. Haunted by the thought of his teammate making you cum. Horrified by the thought of you screaming Lando’s name.
He didn’t realise it, but a hand had wrapped around your throat, choking you as he fucked you with next to no gentleness. Bottoming out each time, his other hand taking hold of one of your legs to drape it over his shoulder, needing to go deeper.
You cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure as he hit your cervix over and over again.
“I thought of you every time he touched me,” the cruel admission left your lips. Both of you were horrible, awful people. Yet neither seemed to care as your teeth sunk into his forearm that was next to your head, tears slipping out of your eyes as you screamed. His pace was brutal, unrelentless. The lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room and an animalistic groan left him and you clenched around his cock.
Oscar turned you both so you were facing the mirror, his hand that was choking you tilting your head back so you could watch him fuck you upside down. “I’ve gotten myself off every week to thought of fucking you like this. Anywhere. Of bending you over the sink. Fucking you in the shower. In my driver’s room before a race. I’d fuck you in front of the whole paddock if I could.”
You choked out a cry, blood rushing to your head from the lack of oxygen. He knew you liked the filth he was muttering due how hard you were clenching around him, your hips going up to meet his thrusts.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you? Coming around my cock as everyone watched. Knowing Lando would be watching as I made a mess of you.”
“I’m going to come,” you cried, coughing violently afterward. He may have gotten ahead of himself as he pulled his hand away, noticing a red hand mark on your throat. But the sight only spurred him on further, his hand dancing between your bodies before finding your clit, rubbing tight circles into it.
He felt your orgasm before he heard you. Your cunt clamped down onto his cock, screaming his name as you convulsed. God, you were ethereal.
His thrusts became sloppy and unorganised, one hand holding your hip and yanking you down onto him as the other continued its agonising circled on your clit.
Oscar cried out your name as he came, yanking you all the way down on his cock as his cum spilled hotly into you, filling you up in such a primal way it made another wave of pleasure shoot through him.
He collapsed on top of you, both your bodies sweaty and he began peppering kisses across your face. Kissing your tears away and muttering mine between each.
Oscar was still buried deep inside you, holding his release in and he never wanted to move. Your chest heaved, slowly coming down from your high. He felt your arms move before your hands gently took hold of his face, bringing his eyes up to meet yours.
Messy trails of mascara ran down your cheeks, painting a beautiful picture of ruin in front of him. If his muscles weren’t so tired, he would’ve reached for his phone to take a picture.
“Oscar,” your voice was a whisper.
He hummed, lifting a hand up to gently tug at your bottom lip with his thumb. You seemed hesitant, searching his gaze for something. But he didn’t need to be given any hints.
“I love you,” he said the words against your lips. He said them again against your forehead. Again as he kissed each of your eye lids. Your nose.
You started to cry again, a grin stretching at your lips as you spoke the words that sealed his fate, “I love you.”
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
MONZA
You shut the door softly behind you, looking at his back as he leaned over to untie his shoes.
Clearing your throat, Lando sat up and turned, raising a brow at you. “Yeah?”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you considered how there was no hello. No smile, though you weren’t expecting much of one. Sure, he scored a podium, but it wasn’t enough.
You stood there and stared at him for a moment. Genuinely wondering why he had even asked you out in the first place. What was the point? Then again, you shouldn’t have said yes in the first place.
Sighing, you brought out your keys and took off the one he gave you to his flat in Monaco.
His eyes widened, realising quickly what was happening and he stood up, crossing the room and taking hold of your hands to halt the finality of your actions. “Hey, what’s going on?” Lando cupped your chin, bringing your eyes up to his. “Talk to me, baby.”
Despite everything, you still felt guilty. Your mind couldn’t help but wander over all of his sweet moments with you. Because he could be, he could be really fucking sweet. Romantic even. But he was also really fucking awful sometimes. Mean, even.
Your brows furrowed, taking hold of his wrist. “We both know I’m not what you want.” You looked at his eyes, how stunningly green they were and curious how he was able to look at you in such adoration sometimes. “And we both know I know about the other girls.”
Lando clenched his jaw, his eyes flickering shut as the words were finally out. Sure, he may actually want you. He just didn’t only want you. Besides, you knew you were in no place to pass judgement anymore. With your other hand, you brushed a thumb over his cheek bone, his eyes then opening. Looking at you in confusion, not understanding why you weren’t angry. Not understanding why you were being so… understanding.
With a small sigh, you kissed him softly on the cheek before dropping his key into his hands. He didn’t stop looking at you, and maybe you were reading too much into it, but he nearly looked sad.
“Bye, Lando.”
And you left.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
AZERBAIJAN, BAKU
The thick rug that ran down the middle of the hallway muted your footsteps as you walked. You had flown home during the small break between the last race and the one that’s tomorrow. You hadn’t been able to see Oscar, though you had texted a few times.
You came to a stop outside of his door, you hadn’t told him when you were coming back. He understood you needed a break.
Stealing your breath, you knocked on the door once. The sharp sound echoing down the long hallway. Muffled sounds came from the other side of the door before it opened, Oscar blinking at you in surprise before he grinned at you.
He was so effortlessly handsome, wearing a white t-shirt that hugged his muscles perfectly and a pair of grey sweats. You licked your lips, mouth feeling dry and looked down at your shoes.
“Angel?”
“I broke up with Lando.”
There was a moment of silence before you heard him step forward, his warm and rough hands holding your face, tilting your face up to his. The look on his face, it was hard to put distinct words to it but the look of hope in his eyes made your knees weak.
“What?”
“I broke up with him.” Your breathing was uneven, and despite everything, doubts still lingered in your brain. “And you’re under no obligation to—“
Oscar pulled you to him, kissing you with such urgency your head spun.
You smiled into his mouth, “I’m all yours.”
He picked you up, looking at you with heaven in his eyes, carrying you into the room and shutting the door behind him.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
Lando watched as champagne sprayed out and over the podium, watching Oscar laugh and smile as he got drenched with the Australian flag glowing above the top step. Despite his annoyance, he couldn’t hate him. His teammate was a good driver and a good person.
All of Lando’s karma was finally catching up to him, but he clapped anyway. Smiled for photos. Patted Oscar on the shoulder in congratulations, who in turn looked at him sceptically before eventually giving him a small smile.
A tiny truce.
After the crowd had died down, Lando had grappled with his consciousness for a while before forcing himself to go to Oscar’s room. He could at least try to make some sort of amends. They were going to be teammates for a while; they might as well try and get along. Water under the bridge.
He knocked on the door, he didn’t hear a response but slight muffled shuffling. He rolled his eyes, they needed to get this conversation out of the way or else Lando wasn’t sure he’d pluck up the courage again. Plus, he was sure Oscar was in a good mood after a win.
Testing the handle, the door clicked and he pushed it open, mouth opening to say something when he suddenly froze at the sight before him.
You were sitting up on the dresser, Oscar standing between your legs and his hands under your shirt, kissing you as if his life depended on it. Your desperation was palpable, hands buried in the Aussie’s hair and moaning into his mouth.
Lando blinked a few times, his mouth dry and feeling as if he’d vomit. Quickly and quietly, he shut the door and started to walk away. His pace brisk, trying not to cause a scene and run.
He knew he was in absolutely no position to feel upset over this, but he couldn’t help it. He did. He knew he had fucked up. Fucked up a wonderful opportunity you had given him. You were perfect in every sense of the word, but he had been too caught up in his ego to give a shit if he fumbled one of the best things life had tried to offer him. Right after you left his hotel room in Monza, he sat there staring at the key he had given you for a pathetically long time as a cold wave of reality slammed into him.
Not sure why, but his feet brought him to Red Bull’s section of the paddock, eyes searching desperately for Max. He was always someone he could talk to, even in the worst circumstances the Dutch man somehow always knew what to say.
After a few frantic minutes of searching, he finally found Max and called out to him. His friend turned, raising a brow at the look on Lando’s face. He probably looked insane. Max crossed his arms as he approached, not looking all too thrilled at seeing him. Which wasn’t a surprise. The entire grid wasn’t a fan of his behaviour in regards to women, Max especially given everything that had happened with Kelly and Daniil.
“Can we talk?” He asked.
Max eyed him over for a moment before nodding, guiding him back to his room. He sat on the edge of the counter, not saying anything but looked at Lando expectantly.
Lando bit the side of his cheek, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I fucked up.”
Max let out a long breath through his nose, his eye brows rising. “You’re realising this now?”
Sighing, Lando considered how to move forward. “Look I know it was dumb but can you really blame—Fuck!” His eyes began to water and his hand went up to cover his now bleeding nose. Staring at his friend in bewilderment as his head began to pound with pain.
Max had just punched him.
“You are such a fucking dumbass, Lando.” Max was practically yelling at him, not caring that the sound hurt the Brit’s head.
“I just walked in on her and Oscar practically fucking! They’ve probably been doing it behind my back all this time, anyway—“
Max looked like he wanted to deck him again. “Get over yourself! How does that even begin to justify the countless women you were screwing around with behind her back all these months.” Lando went to open his mouth but Max held up his hand. “I have never in all my years even considered doing that to someone, let alone Kelly.”
Lando grew quiet, slumping against the wall, not caring that blood was dripping down his face and he pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes till stars appeared. “I know, I fucked up,” his voice cracked as he spoke. “I can’t justify it. And I can’t explain it, but I really feel like I’ve had a wake up call, mate.” He laughed ruefully, looking up at the ceiling. “She’s so perfect and I just— I fucked her over.”
Max considered his friend for a long moment. He hated him for what he did to you, but he still cared about him. “I’m not saying you can fix this, nor do I think there is anything to even fix. But you need to apologise to her. But I need you to understand this,” he stepped towards Lando, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She doesn’t need to forgive you. I don’t even think she should. But she deserves a proper apology from you. Get down on your knees and cry for all I care.” With one last pointed look, Max walked over to his door and gestured an arm out. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”
That night at the club the team had picked to celebrate Oscar’s win, Lando couldn’t take his eyes off you. He held his drink, still full and ice long ago melted as he watched you dance. The multicolour lights painting you in a beautiful image.
He waved off multiple girls who approached, not even an inkling of interest igniting in his chest. His heart for some reason set on torturing himself as he watching how Oscar held onto you possessively, never letting you go and with stars in his eyes.
He had known the whole time Oscar was in love with you, and it gave him a screwed up thrill to know you were with him instead. He didn’t know what was wrong with him sometimes, but he regretted everything. Not like it mattered. You looked properly happy for once and Lando realised you had never looked at him that way.
Another girl came up to him, resting her hand on his shoulder and smiling seductively.
All he could see was you, though. Looking at him one last time before kissing him on the cheek and leaving. Shrugging the girl off, he called it an early night and left.
Despite everything, how he treated you, Lando came to a crushing realisation and he felt his lungs stop working.
He was in love with you.
୧‿̩͙ ˖︵ ꕀ⠀ ♱⠀ ꕀ ︵˖ ‿̩͙୨
landonorris
liked by youruser, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 1,436,097 others
landonorris smile. 🏆
*tap to load more comments*
userone: LESGOOO
usertwo: singapore looks good on you!
userthree: anyone find it odd how unhappy he’s looked lately? even when he wins
userfour: anyone see those leaked photos of oscar and lando’s ex?
| userfive: YESS they were making out in front of some pub in london
| usersix: WILLDDDD
youruser: congratulations lando 🥳
❤️ by author
landonorris: thank you, love ❤️
| userseven: i’m so lost 😭
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More Posts from Iimplicitt
OSCAR PIASTRI | 81
he is my museee for real,, i am in love with him!!!
(follow my art insta here if you like it!! i appreciate any support!)
THE OTHER GUY PT.2 | FR43
an: this one is dedicated to @iimplicitt teehee, i turned you into an oscar girl. this is my next mission xx
fc: random brunette's on pintrest
part one
ynpiastri
📍 spain
liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 35,746 others
summahhhh ☀️☀️
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The late afternoon sun bathed the resort in a warm, golden hue, casting long shadows across the sprawling terrace. You stretched out on a lounge chair, your oversized sunglasses hiding the exhaustion that had followed you all the way from Baku. Spain had seemed like the perfect escape—far from the relentless media attention, from the pit lane politics, and most importantly, from him.
You sipped your iced tea, letting the coolness of the drink momentarily soothe your frustration. You’d spent weeks defending Logan online, battling fans who were celebrating his replacement, all while watching the media fawn over Franco —her newest enemy. He was charming, sure, with his flashy smile and ridiculous sense of humour, but you saw right through it. He was the reason Logan was out of a seat, and no amount of good press could change that.
"Vacation," you muttered to herself, scrolling through your phone with half-interest. "More like damage control." You caught sight of a headline featuring Franco, and instinctively, your blood boiled. Another interview where he effortlessly charmed the reporters, cracking jokes, talking about his "new chapter" with the team.
Your fingers itched to type something snarky, but you resisted. You were supposed to be here to forget about him, not let him take over your every waking thought.
The sound of waves crashing gently against the shore and the soft chatter of other resort guests faded into the background as you sunk deeper into the oversized cushion. A brief moment of peace, a break from everything that had been weighing you down since the start of the season.
Your phone buzzed again. You swiped at the notification, but instead of seeing another message, you found herself back on his Instagram. There he was, shirtless on a yacht, sunglasses perched cockily on his nose, and that same aggravatingly perfect smile. You couldn’t help but roll her eyes.
Ugh, him again.
Tossing your phone aside, determined not to let him ruin the one place where you were supposed to be free from all the F1 drama. The warm breeze ruffled your hair, and you let out a deep sigh. Maybe the sunshine and a few more days of disconnecting would finally help you feel better.
You slipped your sunglasses further down over your eyes and leaned back in the chair, letting the sun soak into your skin. Just as you were beginning to drift off, the sound of distant laughter and voices pulled your attention toward the pool. A group of people, probably other guests, gathered around, laughing and chatting as they played a game of volleyball. You tried not to focus too much on them, but something felt oddly familiar about the scene.
Then you heard it—a voice that sent an immediate chill through your body, a voice that had been haunting you far too often lately.
"Come on, you can’t let me win that easily!"
Your eyes shot open, and there he was. Of all the places in Spain, of all the resorts you could’ve chosen, he had to be here, of course.
Franco Colapinto — Logan’s replacement —stood shirtless at the edge of the pool, a volleyball in hand, grinning like he didn’t have a care in the world. Your stomach twisted in irritation as you watched him toss the ball to one of the resort guests, laughing easily, his carefree attitude only making you hate him more.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Quickly grabbing your phone, ready to escape to your room before he could notice you, you stood up trying to ignore the piercing headache you got for standing up too quickly. But before you could slip away, that familiar voice called out again.
“Well, fancy seeing you here. I knew you couldn’t stay away, hermosa.”
You froze. Heart sinking, and her fingers tensing around your phone. Of course, he'd spotted you. He always seemed to know exactly where you were, like he had some sixth sense for ruining your day.
Reluctantly, you turned around, eyes narrowing as they locked on him. He was leaning against the pool railing now, dripping wet from his earlier game, an insufferably smug grin on his face.
"You’ve got to be kidding me," you muttered, shaking your head. This trip was supposed to be about getting away from him, not running into him at every turn.
He casually pushed himself away from the railing, moving closer, still dripping as he walked towards you. "You look surprised. Didn’t think you’d be lucky enough to spend more time with me, did you?"
"Surprised? No. Horrified? Absolutely," you shot back, folding your arms across her chest, your usual defences kicking in.
He laughed, that low chuckle you found utterly irritating. "Relax. I’m not here to ruin your holiday. You just happen to be where the fun is."
"You call this fun?" you gestured vaguely to the pool and surrounding guests, "Seems pretty desperate if you ask me."
"Desperate? Me? No, I’d say it’s fate." He smiled. "Destiny brought us here together, Chiquitita."
"More like bad luck. What are you doing here?" you seethed, looking at him venomously.
"Same thing as you, I imagine. Bit of sun, a bit of relaxation..." Franco grinned. "Or maybe I came because I knew you’d be here, hermosa."
You rolled your eyes, ignoring the sudden warmth in your cheeks. "Right. Because stalking me across Spain is your idea of fun."
"Stalking’s a strong word. Besides, it’s not my fault you chose the same resort. Destiny, maybe?" He took a step closer, and you instantly regretted not fleeing the second you saw him.
You scowled. "This place is big enough. Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours."
He chuckled, not taking the hint. "You’re funny. You know, I’ve seen your posts—those little digs at me. It’s almost cute how much you hate me. But hate’s just another kind of passion, isn’t it?"
Your stomach twisted. He was being playful, teasing, as usual. But underneath the banter, there was something more—something that made your skin tingle and your defences rise.
“I don’t have time for your little games,” you shot back, trying to sound as unaffected as possible. “You’re just a reminder of everything that’s gone wrong with Logan.”
His smile faded slightly, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of sincerity in his eyes. "I’m not trying to be. Believe it or not, I didn’t want things to go down the way they did with Logan."
You paused, thrown by the unexpected change in tone. You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out.
“Look, just stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”
francolapinto
📍 valencia, spain
liked by williamsracing, alex_albon, olliebearman and 983,365 others
first slide is what i look like sliding right into a girl's life 🤪
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A few days later, you were starting to settle into the rhythm of the resort. Early morning swims, afternoons lounging by the pool with your book, and quiet evenings spent at the beachfront bar. It was exactly what you needed—peace, space, and time to forget about the fact that everywhere you were, he was too.
But of course, that was too much to ask.
It was late afternoon when you had found herself once again in the outdoor seating area, soaking up the sun, your book lying forgotten on your lap, eyes closed, letting the soft sound of waves crash in the distance.
“Don’t tell me I’m the reason you’ve been hiding out all week.”
Your eyes flew open to see him standing next to your table, casually leaning on the back of the empty chair across from you.
"For the last time, I’m not hiding," you said, exasperated.
"Right. Because reading that same page for the last hour doesn’t look like someone avoiding their surroundings," Franco teased, glancing at your book. Before you could protest, he sat down, uninvited.
"Are you really doing this? Here, again?" you glared at him, tempted to just pick up and leave.
“Relajarse (relax),” he said, waving over a waiter. “I just wanted to talk.”
“About what? About how great you are at ruining perfectly good days?”
“Ruining days? Or making them more interesting?” he grinned, ordering a drink in his perfect spanish. “I can’t help that you always look bored when I’m not around.”
“I’m bored because you won’t leave me alone.”
Franco laughed, but there was something softer in his eyes this time, a subtle shift in his demeanour. “Look, I get it. You think I don’t deserve the seat. You’re angry about what happened to Logan. But I’m not here to be your enemy, hermosa.”
Your jaw tightened. “It’s not just that. It’s everything. You come in, all smiles and charm, acting like none of it matters. Like everything that happened to him is just... a part of the game.”
“It’s not a game to me,” he said, and his voice was lower now, more serious. “I worked my whole life to get here, just like he did. I didn’t want to take anything from him. I had no choice in that decision.”
You looked away, biting the inside of your cheek. You hated how he could make you question yourself. Hated that the confidence he wore like armour could falter and reveal something deeper, something that made you doubt your automatic disdain.
"Why do you even care what I think?" you asked quietly, almost more to yourself than to him.
“Because you’re different,” he said simply. “And maybe... maybe I care about what you think more than I should.”
Your breath caught in your throat. There it was again—that unexpected softness breaking through his usual flirty, cocky exterior. You didn’t trust it. Didn’t trust him.
But still, a part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—there was more to him than you wanted to admit.
Clearing your throat, trying to regain your composure, you looked at your empty drink, ignoring the new one he’d ordered for you. “Well, I don’t care what you think.”
He smiled knowingly, leaning back in his chair as the waiter set down his drink. “I can change that.”
text from logan to yn
the end.
teehee 😚✌️
working on part three of “i was all over her” so stay tuned today! hope y’all enjoy it <3
part one and two linked here!
in the meantime here’s one of my favorite pictures of oscar
CHAMPAGNE SHOWERS | OSCAR PIASTRI | 81
done by me; i can’t believe i get to see him race in person in austin 🤭 (manifesting i get to meet him)
current project (i need to be sedated)