12h
Landoscar 🪽
seen from Yemen
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil
seen from Brazil
seen from Denmark
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Mali
seen from China
seen from Ukraine
seen from Germany
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
Landoscar 🪽
that smile oscar?? stand up oml
Full Swing
Oscar hates being bad at something. Which is why he doesn’t know why he even agreed to this in the first place. He knew it would be like this. Embarrassing.
“Okay, wait,” Lando says, and Oscar can hear him taking a step back from behind him. He turns his head, trying to look at Lando, to see what he’s looking at.
“Ah—” Lando says, scolding, as he’s walking around Oscar until he stands next to him. “I said wait. Eyes on the ball.”
Oscar’s head snaps back around immediately, his eyes finding the ball in front of his feet again.
“That’s a good boy,” Lando says teasingly behind him. Oscar can practically hear his wide grin in his voice. He knows it’s a joke, but he can feel his cheeks heating and has to force himself to stay in the position Lando has manoeuvred him in.
“Okay, doesn’t look too bad, actually,” Lando says, assessingly. Oscar takes a deep, heavy breath.
“Push your ass out more.”
Oscar’s breath threatens to choke him. He makes a weird noise between a cough and a whine.
“Excuse me?” he says, his voice high and brittle. This must be a joke, he thinks.
When Lando answers, his voice is completely sincere, though.
“You need to arch your back a little.” Oscar presses his lips together.
“Yep, like that.”
Good lord. Worst idea ever.
“Okay, now swing back, keep your upper body aligned over the ball.”
Oscar tries, moving the club back like Lando showed him earlier.
“Keep your left arm straight—uhm, no, not quite.”
Oscar drops his arms again, about to release the position. Accepting defeat.
“Okay, let’s try to swing back together, yeah?”
Before Oscar can even start to think what Lando is proposing here, he’s there, meaning right behind him. Like… right behind him. Pressed flush against Oscar’s bent over the ball back. His hands slide down Oscar’s arms until they close around his hands, holding the club with him.
Oscar forces himself to breathe.
“Okay, try to keep your feet pressed into the ground, and keep your left arm straight. Don’t move your torso just yet.”
With that, Lando moves them, swinging the club back until it’s hanging in the air over Oscar’s shoulder.
It actually makes it easier, Lando’s steadying body behind him, doing the swing with him. He feels a little less out of place. Before the club touches the ball, Lando brings him back to the initial position.
“See? Not that hard, is it?”
Oscar can only shake his head softly. His cheek feels way too close to Lando’s for his liking.
His hands feel warm where they are fully encompassed by Lando’s. Even his biceps are touching Oscar’s upper arms, the hem of his T-shirt riding a little lower than Lando’s polo. Oscar can feel his firm stomach pressed against his back. His chin hooked over his shoulder. Staring down at the ball. Shouldn’t he be smaller, is the only thing he can think as Lando makes him hold the position.
“Remember to arch your back.”
Oscar is pretty sure his heart stops beating for a second. Lando’s breath feels hot and dangerous against his ear.
As if on cue, Oscar can feel himself bending his back a little more again, pushing his ass up a tiny bit more. Right against Lando’s—
“Good,” Lando says, and Oscar could swear his voice is a little rough in his ear.
“And now we just do that again and hit the ball.”
Oscar has no clue what is happening as Lando turns them to the side again, bringing the club all the way back, his arm holding Oscar’s straight the whole time, and then turns them to the other side with a small impulse, full swing, hitting the ball with a small click.
Lando doesn’t let go directly. There’s a brief pause that he holds them there, club now hovering over Lando’s—Oscar’s left shoulder. Then he lets go, and Oscar feels a bit shaky holding his own weight again.
The ball flies pretty far, from what it seems like, but Oscar barely manages to focus on the trajectory. The only thing he can think about is the painful absence of Lando’s body pressed against his. He has to force himself not to turn his head and look at Lando, tries to keep his eyes at the ball, at least seem like he’s observing what they did here together.
“Okay, again,” Lando says once the ball landed somewhere and bends down to drop another ball in front of Oscar. “I want to watch you this time.”
As Oscar lines up again, he makes himself take a deep, conscious breath. This is going to be a very long afternoon.
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did this a couple nights ago at 5am instead of sleeping, thanks to Oscar and his random golf picture dumps.
lando on gtg: next 😌 i don't know 🥰 skip 😁 oscar on gtg:
Just reminding everyone that this video exists 🙂↕️ the legs…?! Oscar is giving dom, sorry 😭
#landoscar #mclaren #o81 #l1 #landonorris #oscarpiastri #f1
i didn’t know that i needed landoscar funko pop until today 😭
