i really do like witnessing the development of their relationship in real time
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@prttynrgnl
i really do like witnessing the development of their relationship in real time
gender feels hour (society kind? not the actual one)
landoscar act like this in monaco because they go to media appointments straight from their shared bed #mytruth
What ever you say princess
I’m going to bite through concrete.
lando arrives for media day with the hungarian gp 2024 helmet!
previews | f1 monaco gp 2026 (04.06.26)
kneeling to instinct 🔒
oscar piastri/lando norris/max fewtrell | 6.2k words | explicit
— ojpuppy [hybrid au], non-drivers au, knotting, handler!lando, light dom/sub dynamics
But, being comfortable around Lando was near impossible, when Max was brought into the mix. Just the sound of his voice would send Oscar's tail wagging at the speed of sound; he'd pant, bark, drool happily while he grinned. It was so fucking humiliating. "You can't help it, sweet boy," Lando would coo, gently pet his pup's ears, "Maxie's your favorite, isn't he? Yeah, yeah he is." Every goddamn time. Oscar would reply with an 'arf!' and a wag—yes, yes, he loved Max. The way he smelled of chocolate, of Oscar and Lando, how he'd always pet in all the right spots. Max was like Lando, in a way. Attentive, kind, and gentle. It was never a huge problem whenever he'd come over, at least. Oscar would happily lick Max's face, yip whenever he'd receive pets from those loving hands, nip at his fingers when given treats. He was a very well behaved good boy. Until it was just…a combination of things, Oscar tries to justify to himself. Exhaustion, for starters. His main, if not only excuse. After hiking all afternoon in the sun following a particularly tiring day by the ocean, he'd been tuckered out beyond his normal capacity. Not to mention, him and Lando both had accidentally skipped dinner in favor of getting some rest, which then led to them of course…sleeping until their morning alarms rang. So he's hungry, tired, and annoyed because Lando won't pay proper attention to him, too busy playing video games with fucking Keegan and— He'd had enough, honestly. Oscar practically stomps his way over to where Lando sits on the couch, controller in hand, headphones on, as he cheers over another victory in Tarkov. "Hey, Osco what—" No words needed, when he was this hangry and starved of cuddles. Oscar just sits himself right where he belongs in Lando's lap, whining softly as he melts into the touch he missed so much. Lando pouts, moving his head side to side as he tries to see around his pup's broad shoulders, "Oscar," he draws out, complaining, "Can't see the TV, bub, go on, you can lay down beside me if you want, yeah? I'll give you lots of belly rubs." As he reaches his other hand to the controller, Oscar sees his window of opportunity to truly get the Brit's attention—Oscar leans down and bites.
hiii so i've been writing drabbles as a little palate cleanser after i post a chapter of my fic - so have this film noir-inspired au, with private eye!oscar and femme fatale!lando <3
oh and they're both girls :)
--
Oscar hates it when clients smoke in her office.
Poor habit in general, smoking. So many things out there that can kill you, and you’ll let a nicotine stick do the job?
But she’s gotta hand it to this one—she looks good doing it. As she sits across from Oscar, sucking intermittently on a slim Vogue, her dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination. It’s an expensive, emerald green number, and a smooth expanse of tanned thigh peeks out from the slit where she's crossed her legs.
But Oscar’s nothing if not a professional, so she flips open her notepad. “And when did you first suspect this was happening?”
It only used to take Oscar thirty seconds to read a complete stranger, back when she still had a badge. This one had taken ten, at most, when she’d pushed the door open after Logan buzzed her in.
Lando—she’d introduced herself, and her last name was only confirmation of the obvious: she has money. Loads of it, and not the kind that opens doors but the kind that makes you incapable of imagining what a closed one even looks like.
Although that might have something to do with her face, too. Oscar had clocked it the way she’d clock a poorly concealed weapon. Dangerous, beauty like that, depending on who wields it.
The next thing she'd noticed had been the ring, a thin golden band around her finger.
Which brings them to the issue at hand.
“Few weeks ago, detective,” Lando says, releasing a thick spiral of smoke. There’s a carmine stain around the filter of her cigarette. She tilts her head. “Should I call you detective?”
Oscar gives her a close-lipped smile. “Just Oscar will do.” She’s not a real detective, after all, not anymore.
“Os-cah,” she sounds it out, teasingly imitating Oscar’s pronunciation. “Quite a charming accent you’ve got, there.”
With her free hand, Lando’s twirling a thick, dark curl around a finger. She watches Oscar through her eyelashes, and her eyes are sparkling, intense.
It makes Oscar feel like prey.
“Respectfully, Mrs. Button—“
“Lando,” she interrupts, with a crinkle of her nose.
“—Lando.” Oscar taps her pen a few times, mincing her words. “You don’t look too distraught about your husband’s… night-time activities.”
A small laugh, no warmth in it. “Well that’s because I’m not.” Lando leans in, bracing her delicate wrists on the mahogany desk between them. This close, Oscar can smell her perfume, a woody, musky scent. “Couldn’t fault him for that, could I? Not when I’ve got my own ways of keeping myself busy, while he’s out and about.”
Oscar swallows. “I see. Why come to me, then, if you don’t want a divorce?”
“Oh, no." Lando widens her eyes. "I do want a divorce.”
“You said—“
“I said I don’t mind the cheating, 's all. If anything, the cheating’s a good thing. Because you,“ Lando nudges Oscar’s forearm, a fleeting touch, “are about to get me some evidence not even Jenson’s lawyers can argue with.”
“I haven’t taken your case yet,” Oscar points out, matter-of-factly.
“Oh, but you will,” Lando says, sitting back. “You see, I’m very persuasive, when I wanna be."
Oscar’s got no doubt about that.
Hm. It's tempting. She’s been needing a win, something to restore her confidence, and this seems like a simple enough case. It’s her bread and butter, after all, helping rich, unhappy wives catch their unfaithful husbands in the act.
So why does it feel like she’s in over her head?
george's jolly broke down on street and whatever the security did coz oscar's paddock pass didnt work, my replist is off to a great start in monaco
!!!!!!! he did it again, damnnnnnnnnnn
couldn’t stop thinking about this so have a tiny little drabble or snippet
There is something breathtakingly stunning about Lando when he’s like this. Big, glassy eyes, shining so brightly that it’s a wonder he hasn’t let the tears spill over his lash line yet, collecting like condensation along the edge of it. Lips, pouty and red where they’ve been abused by Oscar’s teeth, Lando’s lips parting like the petals of a rose for him.
Someone save Rio😭 Lando looking at Max like THAT and Max being oblivious and Rio just breaking the fourth wall I CANT BREATHE😭😭
Lando bringing Rio in during Max's stream 6/2/2026
they even made lando look cool in lego and oscar’s just… oscar
lando realizes being in the car turns him on so now he wears a vibrating plug most the time to compensate breaks between race weekends