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its-avalon-08 · 1 day ago

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📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

🏎️ summary: she’s oscar piastri’s little sister — sarcastic, sharp, and completely uninterested in drivers. he’s lando norris — charming, persistent, and suddenly very interested in her. she came for oscar. she didn’t plan on falling for the one person she should’ve stayed away from.

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, abusive relationship

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter eight : soft threats and kicks

Oscar was lounging on the McLaren motorhome couch, chewing on a protein bar and scrolling through his phone when Y/N walked in, hand-in-hand with Lando.

Oscar looked up. “What's all this now?”

Y/N grinned. “Hey, so… we wanted to tell you something.”

Lando gave a small wave. “Sup.”

Oscar narrowed his eyes. “Why do you sound like you’re confessing to murder?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “We’re dating, Oscar.” There was a beat of silence. Oscar blinked slowly.

“Like, actually dating?” he asked cautiously. “Not friends-who-cuddle-and-make-googly-eyes-in-the-garage dating?”

Y/N giggled. “Yes. Officially dating.”

Lando added with a sheepish smile, “It’s new. But real.”

Oscar stared at them. Then at their intertwined hands. Then back at them.

Then he sighed.

“I swear to God, if you hurt her I will drive my car into yours at 200 km/h and claim brake failure.”

Lando laughed nervously. “Noted.”

“But…” Oscar stood, gave his sister a long look, and then pulled her into a hug. “I’m happy for you, okay?”

Y/N smiled against his shoulder. “Thanks, Osc.”

He glanced over at Lando with a mock glare. “You break her heart, I break your legs.”

Lando held up both hands. “No leg-breaking required. I’m in it. For real.”

Oscar nodded. “Good.” Then he pointed at Lando’s face. “Because I don’t care if you’re my teammate. She comes first.”

Lando softened. “I know. And I respect that.”

“Good,” Oscar said, pulling Y/N in for one last squeeze. “Now go do your weird couple thing or whatever.”

Y/N grinned and walked off toward the garage, hips swaying casually in her baby tee and jeans.

Lando watched her go, blinking in dazed affection like a complete simp.

Oscar followed his gaze, tracked the way Lando’s eyes… very clearly lingered on her backside.

He didn’t say a word.

Just walked up behind him—

—and kicked him directly in the nuts.

“AGHHH—WHAT THE HELL, OSCAR?!”

“Eyes up, Norris.”

“I WASN’T—okay maybe I was—but what was that for?!”

Oscar shrugged, deadpan. “Preemptive strike.”

Lando wheezed. “I haven’t even done anything yet!”

Oscar patted his shoulder like a proud dad. “And now you won’t.”

a few weeks later

It was supposed to be a normal day.

Oscar had landed in Austria for the next race weekend a few days ago. He was a little jet-lagged, slightly annoyed he left his lucky hoodie in Lando’s driver’s room of all places, but mostly calm.

Mostly.

He pushed open the door to Lando’s room without knocking—because who knocks when it’s just your teammate and lifelong friend—and that’s when it happened.

The crime scene.

Lando and Y/N.

On the couch.

Mid-kiss.

Y/N was on the couch with Lando's arms around her waist pulling her as close as possible. Like, fully invested, eyes closed, her hand tangled in his hair, his thumb grazing her jaw. It was soft and stupidly romantic until they both leapt apart like two teenagers caught sneaking snacks at midnight.

Lando practically threw himself in front of Y/N like a human shield.

“OSCAR!” Y/N yelped, already halfway under a throw pillow, red as a fire hydrant.

Oscar just froze.

Mouth open.

Eyes wide.

Processing.

Not processing.

Then—

“MY EYES. MY FUCKING EYES.”

Lando flinched. “Mate! It’s not what it looks like—wait, no, it is, but—NOT IN A WEIRD WAY!”

“WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN, YOU TOOTHED VAMPIRE GREMLIN?” Oscar was backing up like he’d witnessed a cult ritual. “I’M GONNA NEED A PRIEST. HOLY WATER. A FUMIGATION TENT.”

Y/N buried her face in both hands. “I want to disappear. I want to dissolve into the fucking fabric of space-time.”

Oscar staggered out of the room, still screaming. “LILY! LILY, I NEED AN EYE TRANSPLANT. STAT.”

She came running from down the hall, confused but alarmed. “Baby? What’s going on? Did someone say something again?”

“I WALKED IN ON MY BABY SISTER PLAYING TONSIL TENNIS WITH MUPPET BOY,” he screeched, pointing a dramatic hand toward the door. “SHE WAS UNDER HIM. HE WAS ALL OVER HER. HIS HAND WAS ON HER FACE, LILY. AND NEAR OTHER PLACES THAT I NEVER WANTED TO SEE.”

Lily blinked.

Paused.

Then she gasped, dramatically. “AWWWWWW.”

“NOT AWW,” Oscar shouted. “I’M TRAUMATISED. I’M NEVER OPENING A DOOR AGAIN IN MY LIFE.”

Lando peeked his head out the door, sheepish. “I wasn’t even—like, we were just—okay, yeah, we were kissing. But soft kissing! Polite kissing!”

Oscar just wailed.

Lando turned to Y/N. “This is going well, right?”

Y/N groaned. “I literally want to eat concrete Lando.”

Oscar turned back around like a camp counselor wrangling hormonal teens. “TEN FEET APART. AT ALL TIMES. I WANT JESUS BETWEEN YOU. AND A CHAPERONE. TWO, ACTUALLY.”

“Okay—bit excessive—” Lando started.

“DID I OR DID I NOT SAY NO PDA?!” Oscar shrieked.

“You said no pda in front of you, which was vague and open to interpretation,” Y/N countered, raising an eyebrow from behind Lando’s shoulder.

Oscar pointed wildly. “INTERPRET THIS—” His voice suddenly dropped into a guttural shriek, his eyes landing on a suspicious, purple mark peeking from the collar of Y/N’s hoodie. “IS. THAT. A. HICKEY?!”

Lando flinched. Y/N gasped. Lily started cackling.

Oscar turned full horror movie. “YOU VAMPIRE FUCKER. DID YOU BITE HER? YOU ABSOLUTE DEMON. THAT IS MY BABY SISTER, YOU—YOU WALNUT-SIZED MAMMAL.”

Lando panicked. “IT WAS JUST ONE! I MEAN, I didn’t mean to—her neck’s just really—FUCK.”

“GET A TENT. NO, A NUN. A WHOLE CHURCH. A FIRE HOSE,” Oscar howled, spinning in a circle like he was going to explode.

Y/N yelled from behind Lando, “OH MY GOD, CAN YOU SHUT UP?!”

“I’M NEVER GOING TO UNSEE THIS,” Oscar screamed back. “I WANT TO BE BLIND. I WANT A PILLOW TO DIE UNDER.”

Lily, laughing so hard she was crying, walked over and patted his arm. “Sweetie, take deep breaths. This is what happens when attractive people fall in love. It’s adorable. You’ll get used to it.”

“NEVER,” Oscar wailed. “ I used to see her play with her dinosaur plushie when she was five. I used to braid her hair. I SPOON FED HER ICE CREAM.”

Lando looked like he might cry too. “I know, mate. I know. I’ll, like, sign a waiver or something—”

“I WANT A BLOOD CONTRACT,” Oscar growled. “SAY GOODBYE TO YOUR KNEECAPS IF YOU HURT HER. OR KISS HER AGAIN”

Y/N sighed. “This is going to be our lives now, huh?”

Lando nodded solemnly. “I’m starting to see why he was your emotional support monster.”

Oscar was pacing, chanting something about ‘soap’ and ‘eyeball scrubs’ while Lily just leaned against the wall, still aww-ing.

Y/N looked at Lando, cheeks still burning. “We’re never kissing again.”

Lando smirked and leaned in, whispering, “Give it, like, five hours baby.”

taglist: @landofotographyy@doofenshmirtzevil-inc@rd14@stylesmoonlight12 @azuramicah @il0vereadingstuff @star73807-blog @sltwins@dustie-faerie @stylesmoonlight12 @lauralarsen @ayatotiddies @carey86 @hescrush @xnatqq @downsideup1989 @lilorose25@henna006@dustie-faerie@lewishamiltonismybf@ayatotiddies@carey86@hescrush@xnatqq@downsideup1989@lilorose25@henna006@formulaho@freya2005@honethatty12 @outofthegreatest

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its-avalon-08 · 2 days ago

Text

📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, abusive relationship

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 8: will you be mine?

The cool-down room buzzed with energy.

Oscar still had champagne in his hair. Max had already started half-unzipping his race suit, grumbling about tyre degradation, and Lando—Lando was smiling. That quiet kind. The proud kind.

It was a good day.

Oscar had won.

McLaren had double podiumed.

And still, something lingered in the space between them, unsaid.

They finished their media rounds. The cameras faded. The adrenaline settled. Just outside the garage, with the noise muffled and the sun beginning to dip, Oscar paused.

“Lando,” he said, holding out a hand. “Hang back a sec.”

Lando blinked, surprised. “Yeah?”

The others filtered inside. The two of them stood alone by the side of the hospitality unit, the faint hum of celebration audible through the walls.

Oscar didn’t speak right away. He stared out into the paddock, jaw tight, helmet still dangling from his fingers.

Then: “I was a dick.”

Lando let out a soft snort. “Yeah. You kinda were.”

Oscar winced. “I know. I just… I needed you to hear it.”

Lando leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. “Okay. I’m listening.”

Oscar took a breath. “I’ve spent so much of my life thinking of Y/N as this tiny, giggling menace in dinosaur PJs who used to eat ice cream with her entire face, who cried if you changed the ending of her bedtime stories, who needed a ladder to reach the cereal cupboard.”

Lando blinked, lips tugging into the faintest smile.

Oscar’s voice dipped, more quiet now. “She used to sit outside my room with her knees tucked up, waiting for me to finish sim sessions just so she could tell me she found a new shade of purple in the sky.”

Lando stayed still, listening.

“She’s grown up. I know that,” Oscar added quickly. “But in my head? She’s still my little sister. And watching her fall for someone, even someone I respect, someone who’s my teammate—” He cut himself off, struggling. “It just… short-circuited me.”

“I get it,” Lando said gently. “I do.”

Oscar looked at him properly now, eyes sharper, voice low but honest. “I lost it. I acted like I could control everything — like I had a say in who Y/N gets to care about. That wasn’t about you. That was me being scared.”

Lando nodded, waiting.

“I watched her break once,” Oscar said, voice cracking slightly. “After Liam. You know what that was like?”

“No,” Lando said gently. “But I can imagine.”

Oscar swallowed. “She didn’t eat for three days, Lando. Wouldn’t talk to any of us. Slept in Hattie’s room ‘cause she couldn’t be alone. I was fucking terrified I’d lose her to it.”

Lando’s voice was quiet. “I get that. I really do.”

Oscar looked down. “So when I saw her with you… even though it’s you, and you’re not him, I just panicked. Thought I’d have to watch it all happen again.”

Lando stepped closer, voice firm. “I’m not gonna hurt her, mate.”

Oscar finally met his eyes. “That’s what I needed to hear. Not the charm. Not the jokes. Just that.”

Lando nodded, dead serious. “She means a lot to me. More than I thought possible. I don’t take that lightly.”

Oscar exhaled, tension slowly draining from his shoulders. “She likes you, you know.”

Lando chuckled, eyes soft. “I was starting to hope so.”

Oscar cracked a smile, just slightly. “I’ll kill you if you break her.”

Lando grinned. “Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

There was a pause. Then Oscar stepped forward and pulled Lando into a brief, firm hug — two pats on the back and a clumsy shoulder bump.

“Now get inside before Y/N thinks we’re in love,” he muttered.

“Bit late for that, mate,” Lando shot back with a wink.

Oscar groaned, already walking off. “God, I hate you.”

“Love you too, Piastri,” Lando called after him.

They were okay.

Finally, they were okay.

The paddock had finally started to empty out, the buzz of race day winding into silence, champagne replaced by cool night air and star-drenched skies.

Y/N stood near the McLaren hospitality, fiddling with her lanyard when she spotted them.

Oscar and Lando. Side by side. Laughing.

Her heart jumped just seeing it — that old easiness between them settling back in like the sun had finally come out after a week of rain. Oscar shot her a look — the kind that said we’re okay — and she smiled softly, hugging herself as Lando’s eyes found hers.

He gave her the goofiest little grin, all teeth and sunshine. She shook her head with a fond roll of her eyes. Lando and Y/N headed for a drive soon after

The road was mostly empty, streetlights casting streaks of gold across the dash of Lando’s sleek black car. Music played low — some mellow indie track — and the windows were cracked just enough to let in the breeze.

Lando was driving one-handed, the other resting lazily on the gearstick. He looked over at her every now and then, like he wanted to say something but didn’t want to break whatever delicate thread they were riding.

Y/N sat beside him, unusually quiet. Hands in her lap. Lost in her head.

Lando noticed. “Hey,” he said softly, “you okay?”

She blinked. “Hm? Yeah. I’m good.”

He frowned. “You sure? You’ve been weird since the garage.”

She let out a small sigh, eyes still on the darkened road ahead. “I’m not being weird.”

“You are,” Lando said gently. “Like, classic ‘Y/N is spiraling’ weird.”

She scoffed. “Wow. Thanks.”

“I’m just saying,” he added, voice dipping softer, more careful, “if… if this isn’t what you want anymore, it’s okay. I’ll survive. Probably. Eventually. After eating an unhealthy amount of ice cream and watching sad movies.”

She turned to him, startled. “Wait what?”

Lando chuckled awkwardly. “I just— I don’t know. You’ve been off ever since the rain, and we haven’t really defined anything, and I figured maybe you’ve had time to think and you’re, like… over it.”

Y/N stared at him for a second.

Then she snorted. “You absolute moron.”

“Okay, ouch?”

She twisted in her seat to fully face him. “You idiot. I’m not being weird because I want out. I’m being weird because I want in. Like, all in.”

Lando blinked. “Wait. What?”

Y/N exhaled like she’d been holding it in for weeks. “I like you, Lando. So much. I think about you when you’re not around. I smile like a loser when I get a text from you. You say one dumb thing and I write it in my Notes app like a diary entry.”

Lando was staring, stunned silent.

“And I get nervous around you,” she continued, words tumbling now. “Like, full on stomach-somersaulting, palms-sweaty, internally-screaming nervous. Because you’re the first person who’s made me feel safe and excited and seen all at once. And I don’t just want to hang out in garages and share popcorn with you anymore.”

He blinked. “You don’t?”

“I mean I do, but also I want to do the other stuff. Like hold your hand and go on real dates and call you mine.”

Her voice cracked slightly. “So no, Lando. I’m not over this. I’m headfirst, heart-in-hand, can’t-sleep-over-this into you.”

Silence. Just the soft hum of the car engine.

And then Lando pulled over.

“What’re you—?”

He didn’t answer. Just leaned over and kissed her.

Soft at first. Like he was asking. Then deeper — sure and smiling and so full of something real. One hand in her hair, the other on her cheek.

When they finally pulled back, both slightly breathless, he grinned against her lips.

“You should’ve said that, like, ten races ago.”

Y/N laughed, full and free. “Shut up.”

He kissed her again. “You’re mine, now.”

She kissed him back. “Was always yours.”

taglist: @landofotographyy@doofenshmirtzevil-inc@rd14@stylesmoonlight12 @azuramicah @il0vereadingstuff @star73807-blog @sltwins @dustie-faerie @stylesmoonlight12 @lauralarsen @ayatotiddies @carey86 @hescrush @xnatqq @downsideup1989 @lilorose25@henna006@dustie-faerie@lewishamiltonismybf@ayatotiddies@carey86@hescrush@xnatqq@downsideup1989@lilorose25@henna006@formulaho@freya2005@honethatty12 @outofthegreatest

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its-avalon-08 · 2 days ago

Text

📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, abusive relationship

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter seven : that's my girl

The garage buzzed with race day energy — controlled chaos in motion, engineers barking times, tires squealing, fans screaming from the paddock fence. But to Y/N, all of it dulled when she caught sight of him.

Lando was leaning against the wall by the McLaren setup, suit half-zipped, curls still messy from the helmet he'd just tossed to the side.

He spotted her instantly. In Lando's eyes, Y/N looked ethereal no matter what she wore. Baggy jeans paired with a body hugging top along with her signature gold hoops, she was hard to miss.

And without a word, arms wide, he pulled her into a hug.

“Race day hug for good luck?” he mumbled into her hair, already grinning.

“Obviously,” she said, cheeks squishing against his chest. “I don’t want you crashing into anyone again.”

“That was once and barely a nudge,” he argued dramatically, arms tightening around her.

Y/N pulled back a bit, only for Lando to instinctively lean down and press a soft kiss to the top of her head.

It was so natural. So him.

So casual for him — and yet her heart absolutely spun out.

She blinked up at him, trying not to show anything on her face. “I’ll go say hi to Jack and Liv (Jack Doohan's girlfriend) before you charm me into staying here the whole time.”

Lando laughed, stepping aside with a playful bow. “Don’t stray too far. I need my luck charm in visual range.”

She winked as she walked off. “You just like the way I make the jeans look.”

“Guilty!” he called after her.

A few minutes later, Oscar sat silently on the pit wall, helmet in hand, eyeing the scene around him.

And then he noticed.

Lando, standing by his car, chatting casually with one of the engineers… until she approached.

A model. Tall, blonde, skin-tight dress not even pretending to be paddock appropriate. She leaned against the railing and launched straight into it.

“Hi, Lando,” she purred. “Long time no see.”

Oscar stiffened slightly, watching.

Lando raised an eyebrow. “Have we… met?”

The girl laughed, twirling her hair. “We were at the same dinner after Monaco? I was with—”

“Oh right,” Lando said flatly. “You were the one who spilled wine on your own lap and blamed the waiter.” His eyes had already wandered onto the computer screen, distracted by the data.

She giggled. “Well, maybe you were a distraction.”

He blinked, deadpan. “Tragic. I’ll carry that guilt forever now won't I?.”

She stepped closer. Too close. Fingers brushed his forearm. “Are you seeing anyone right now, Lando?”

Lando’s face didn’t flinch, but his hand subtly shifted — lifting his phone off the cart next to him. He took a massive step back.

He turned the screen on and tilted it toward her, slow and pointed.

His lockscreen was a candid photo of him and Y/N, both laughing, her holding an ice cream cone, his hand behind her head as if mid-hair ruffle.

“Yeah,” he said casually. “I am.”

The girl blinked. “That’s your sister or something, right?”

“No,” he said, sharp and smiling in the most not nice way. “That’s the girl whose name I say first when something good happens. And whose number I dial when it doesn’t.”

She huffed, puffing her chest forward like it would change something. “Well, maybe she wouldn’t mind sharing—”

Lando stepped back.

“Look,” he said, tone suddenly icy. “I know the whole ‘pick me’ thing is your brand, but I’m not in the market.”

The girl scoffed. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket and brushing past her like she was invisible. “And if you ever get the urge to talk again, maybe just... don't.”

Oscar watched it all.

Every second.

The way Lando’s shoulders only relaxed when Y/N walked back toward him again. How his face lit up before he even registered the model was still standing there.

And most of all — how every single time he shut the girl down… it had nothing to do with saving face. It had everything to do with Y/N.

And Oscar, for once, didn’t know what to do with that.

Y/N stood near the back of the McLaren garage, tucked beside a monitor, watching engineers move like clockwork and cars rumble like thunder through the pit lane. The familiar chaos of race day normally calmed her.

But today, it only made the silence louder.

She turned just as Oscar walked past her — helmet in one hand, eyes set straight ahead, face unreadable. He didn’t stop. He didn't spare her a glance.

“Good luck, Osc,” she said softly, almost hopeful.

He didn’t look at her. Just nodded once, stiffly, and kept walking.

And for a second, that was it. Until it wasn’t.

Oscar had barely taken three more steps when something caught in his chest — a flash, unbidden and bright — a memory.

flashback - ten years ago

They were in the backyard, dirt on their knees and sweat on their faces. Little Y/N had accidentally knocked over Oscar’s new Lego spaceship — the one he’d spent hours building.

“I said don’t touch it!” ten-year-old Oscar shouted, furious, hands balled into fists.

“I was just looking!” Y/N wailed, eyes already filling with tears. “I didn’t mean to! I didn’t—”

“I don’t care!” he snapped. “You ruin everything!”

Y/N’s lower lip trembled. “I said sorry!”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Oscar said, turning his back to her and storming off into the house.

Y/N stayed in the backyard, curled up in the grass, sobbing into her sleeves until their mum came out looking for her.

She didn’t eat dinner that night.

Didn’t talk at all.

And Oscar remembered sneaking into her room later, cheeks flushed with guilt, only to find her sitting silently on the bed — hugging her stuffed koala, eyes puffy and red.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I didn't mean to yell. Please don't cry Y/N.” he had whispered.

“I didn’t mean to break it,” she had whispered back, small and wrecked. “Please don’t stop talking to me.”

And he’d hugged her. So tightly. Like his world would collapse if he didn’t.

back to present

Oscar blinked hard.

His throat felt tight inside his helmet. That ache — that same one — buried deep in his chest again. She hadn’t cried this time, hadn’t begged him to talk.

But it was the same look.

Like it had carved her out from the inside. He exhaled sharply, took two steps back, then turned around.

Y/N was still standing there, hands clasped nervously in front of her, gaze drifting.

“Oy,” he muttered.

She looked up.

And before she could say anything, Oscar dropped his helmet to the side and wrapped his arms around her, tight.

Tighter than he had in weeks.

Y/N froze for a second, stunned, before melting into the hug with a broken exhale, face buried in his shoulder.

“I hate fighting with you,” she whispered. “I hate it Osc.”

“I know,” Oscar murmured, voice rough. “Me too Y/N.”

They stood like that for a long second — just them, the world buzzing around but not quite touching either of them.

Oscar pulled back slightly, hand still on the back of her head. “I’m still mad.”

Y/N gave a soft laugh, wiping a tear. “I know, I know.”

“But I love you more than anything,” he added, ruffling her hair. “Always.”

“I love you too, Osc,” she whispered.

He pulled back, grabbing his helmet. “Alright. Now I’m gonna go beat Max.”

Y/N grinned. “Go win it. I’ll be watching.”

Oscar glanced over his shoulder before walking to his car.

“Tell Lando to stop stealing my good luck charms. I need my sister back okay?”

taglist: @landofotographyy@doofenshmirtzevil-inc@rd14@stylesmoonlight12@azuramicah@il0vereadingstuff@star73807-blog@sltwins@dustie-faerie@stylesmoonlight12@lauralarsen@ayatotiddies@carey86@hescrush@xnatqq@downsideup1989@lilorose25@henna006@dustie-faerie@lewishamiltonismybf@ayatotiddies@carey86@hescrush@xnatqq@downsideup1989@lilorose25@henna006@formulaho@freya2005@honethatty12 @outofthegreatest

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its-avalon-08 · 3 days ago

Text

📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, abusive relationship

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter six: family line

The sun was still low when Y/N rang the doorbell. She could’ve used her key, but something about this visit needed the formality of a knock.

Lily opened the door.

Her expression softened. “He’s in the kitchen. The others are here too.”

Y/N stepped in.

She could hear chatter — their youngest sister Hattie’s laughter, their mum humming as she stirred something on the stove.

Oscar’s voice was low but unmistakable.

When she walked in, every head turned.

Mum’s eyes immediately flicked between them. “Y/N, love. You want some tea?”

“I’m good,” Y/N said quietly.

Oscar stood by the counter, arms folded. Lily moved beside him instinctively.

Hattie looked up from her cereal. “Why are you here so early?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She was looking directly at Oscar.

“You and I need to talk.”

Oscar exhaled like he’d been waiting for this.

“I’m not doing this here Y/N.”

“Yes,” she said. “Here. Now and I don't really give a fuck that you don't want to talk..”

Mum raised a brow. “Is this about what happened at the track?”

“Hey—” Oscar’s tone sharpened.

“Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t you play offended right now.”

Lily took a small step back. Hattie’s eyes went wide.

Y/N stepped forward.

“You ignored me, cursed at me, humiliated me in front of the entire paddock. For what? Because I’m close to your teammate? Because I text someone you work with?”

“Don’t act like this is just texting, Y/N.” Oscar’s tone was cold. “You like him. Don’t deny it.”

“I won’t!” Her voice cracked, but she held her ground. “I do. I like him. And fuck you if you think I should feel bad about that.”

The room went dead silent.

Mum’s hand slowly lowered from the kettle. Hattie looked between them like a spectator in a boxing match.

Oscar’s jaw tightened. “You’re seriously telling me you like Lando? You think he’s different from the rest of the paddock boys with a fan club and zero sense of responsibility?”

“He’s been nothing but good to me Osc. He makes me fucking happy okay? Is that what you want to hear? He makes me feel loveable like I'm not some burden you need to carry along.”

“Oh, for now,” Oscar scoffed. “Just wait until you’re inconvenient. Then you’ll be crying all over again.”

That hit too close.

Y/N’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t get to weaponize that against me.”

Oscar’s voice rose. “You couldn’t even handle it when Liam dumped you! I had to pick up your bloody pieces, Y/N. I had to drive to your place, drag you away from that prick, watch you fall apart every night for weeks. So yeah, excuse me for trying to stop it from happening again.”

Y/N’s chest heaved.

“You think that makes me fragile?” Her voice cracked. “You think what happened to me — what he did — makes me someone you get to control?”

Oscar’s mouth opened, then shut.

Lily whispered, “Oscar…”

But he wasn’t listening. Not really. He looked furious. Defensive. Lost.

“I’m not fragile, Oscar. I survived him,” Y/N said. “And I will not let you turn what happened to me into a reason to keep people out of my life.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“No,” she snapped. “You’re trying to control me. Just like he did.”

That shut everyone up.

Oscar’s face paled, like she’d slapped him.

“You don’t get to decide who I care about,” she whispered, eyes glossy now. “And you especially don’t get to punish me for caring about someone who’s actually been kind to me.”

Mum stepped forward, her voice low but firm. “Oscar, that was too far.”

Hattie nodded, arms crossed. “You’re being a dick.”

Even Lily looked heartbroken. “She’s your sister, Osc.”

Oscar didn’t speak. Just clenched his jaw and walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Y/N stayed frozen for a second, fists clenched at her sides.

Mum came over, hand warm on her back.

“You alright, sweetheart?”

Y/N took a breath, still shaky. “I don’t know. But I’m done apologising for being happy.”

Lily didn’t wait even five seconds before chasing after him.

She found him in the garage, hunched over by the shelves of spare tires and cluttered helmets, his back to her, hands braced on his knees. His shoulders shook — barely at first, then harder.

“Oscar!”

He didn’t respond. Didn’t even flinch when she stormed in, already ready to lay into him.

“What the fuck was that? You can’t just say shit like that to your sister and—”

But she stopped.

Because when Oscar turned around, his face was crumpled. Red eyes, blotchy cheeks. Breathing jagged.

“Don’t—” His voice cracked. “Don’t yell at me right now.”

Lily stepped back, stunned.

He looked wrecked.

“Oscar…”

“I didn’t mean to say it like that,” he whispered, wiping his face roughly with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I just— I saw her face. That same look she had back then and I— I couldn’t—”

He trailed off, choking back a sob. Lily stepped forward instinctively.

“Hey,” she said gently, touching his arm. “What are you talking about?”

He sat down on the concrete floor, leaning against the cold wall, and buried his head in his hands.

“She was so bad after Liam,” he said, voice hoarse. “You don’t know, Lil. You didn’t see it.”

Lily slowly crouched next to him, knees brushing his.

“She didn’t eat for days. She’d just sit on the bathroom floor. Like... like someone unplugged her. Wouldn’t talk. Wouldn’t move.”

His hands dropped from his face, staring ahead blankly.

“I tried everything. I’d take her out for drives just so she’d leave the house. I’d bring her food and she’d just push it away. I’d crack jokes, beg, scream. Nothing worked.”

He rubbed at his face again, eyes glassy.

“She shut out Mum. Hattie. The entire family. Wouldn’t pick up calls. Wouldn’t open her door unless it was me.”

He swallowed hard.

“I’d find her on the floor some nights, just holding onto one of his old sweatshirts like it was the only thing keeping her alive.”

Lily pressed her hand to her mouth, her own eyes stinging now.

“She’s my baby sister, Lily,” Oscar whispered. “And he broke her. Crushed her confidence, made her question every single thing about herself. She thought she was too much, too loud, too clingy. When she loved so hard and he made her feel small for it.”

He paused. Blinked furiously.

“And I swore to myself I’d never let her go through that again. That I’d keep every guy like Liam the fuck away from her.”

Lily’s voice broke as she whispered, “Lando’s not Liam, Osc.”

“But what if he is?” Oscar shot back, anguish in every syllable. “What if he gets bored one day and drops her and she forgets how to breathe again? What if she falls in love and he can’t handle it? She breaks again? And this time I'm scared I won't be able to bring her back.”

“She’s not the same girl anymore,” Lily said softly. “And she deserves to find out if he is different.”

Oscar looked away, jaw clenched, tears sliding down silently now.

“I can’t watch her fall apart again,” he said. “I can’t do it again, Lily. I’m not strong enough for that.”

Lily slid down beside him on the floor and pulled him into a hug.

“You don’t have to be,” she whispered. “You just have to trust that this time, she’s stronger than you think.”

Oscar said nothing.

But for the first time in hours, he didn’t pull away from the comfort. He just cried into her shoulder like he was 22 again, watching the sister he loved disappear behind a closed door, wishing he could do more than just knock.

taglist: @landofotographyy @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @rd14 @stylesmoonlight12 @azuramicah @il0vereadingstuff @star73807-blog @sltwins @dustie-faerie @stylesmoonlight12 @lauralarsen @ayatotiddies @carey86 @hescrush @xnatqq @downsideup1989 @lilorose25 @henna006 @dustie-faerie @lewishamiltonismybf @ayatotiddies @carey86 @hescrush @xnatqq @downsideup1989 @lilorose25 @henna006 @formulaho @freya2005 @honethatty12

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its-avalon-08 · 4 days ago

Text

📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety, abusive relationship

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter five: pole and silence

“AND IT’S POLE FOR OSCAR PIASTRI!”

The crowd exploded around the circuit, fans screaming his name as the orange-and-blue car crossed the line with a perfect lap time. He had pushed harder than he ever had — cornering late, braking sharp, throttle aggressive.

He didn’t care.

He didn’t care about the messages over the radio. Didn’t care when his engineer said, “YOU DID IT! POLE, OSCAR, POLE!”

He didn’t even respond. Just breathed. Hard. Furious.

He stepped out of the car and yanked his helmet off, tossing it to the side. Lily ran up to him immediately, face bright and beaming. Oscar's heart lightened. Lily Mae him happier even when he felt like shit.

“That was insane baby!” she grinned, hugging him. “Pole! You were flying!”

Oscar gave a short, lopsided smile, wrapping an arm around her quickly not wanting to let go. “Yeah. I needed that my love.”

Y/N stood a little further away, eyes wide and glassy. She hadn’t even made it past the edge of the garage. Her fingers trembled around the lanyard she twisted over and over. He hadn’t looked at her once.

Not once. It was hurting her. It was breaking her. Her own brother hated her.

Lando walked up behind her quietly, not saying anything for a second. “You okay?”

She sniffed, nodded quickly. “Mhm. I’m fine. Go—go take your pictures.”

He hesitated for a beat before heading out.

On the podium backdrop, Max stood already positioned for P2, grinning and stretching. Oscar walked over with that public smile on his face — camera-ready, relaxed — but when Lando stepped up for P3, Oscar didn’t even glance his way.

Max looked between the two of them, smirking. “No handshake today, boys?”

Oscar didn’t reply. He posed beside Max, back straight, expression unreadable. He was furthest away from Lando. Zak and Andrea shared a worried look. What the hell was going on?

Lando offered a casual “Congrats” just loud enough to be heard.

Oscar didn’t respond.

Max raised a brow. “Someone’s grumpy for a pole-sitter.”

“Just focused,” Oscar said dryly, eyes trained forward as the photographers snapped away.

The usual laughs, the playful shoulder shoves — none of it happened.

And the cameras caught it all.

After the photos, Oscar turned on his heel and went straight to his engineers. Joked with one of them, gave a nod to his data analyst, let Lily fix his hair a bit before the post-quali interview.

Not a glance spared for Lando. And none for Y/N.

She stood at the back now, almost blending into the wall, arms crossed tightly, knuckles white.

Lando returned, sweat still dripping down his neck. “He’s not gonna cool off easy,” he said softly, standing beside her.

Y/N blinked quickly, trying not to let the tears spill. “He hates me right now.”

“He’s being a dick,” Lando muttered. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Still hurts though Lan.”

“Yeah,” he said. Then after a beat, “Wanna get out of here for a bit?”

She hesitated. Then nodded.

And from across the garage, Oscar finally looked her way. Just once.

Her hand was in Lando’s.

And he looked away. What the actual fuck were they playing at?

Lando and Y/N didn’t speak on the drive.

Lando just drove. Quiet roads. The sky streaked with sunset, the heat of the day fading as the car twisted through the hills just outside the city. Y/N stayed quiet, her hand interlocked with Lando's whose hand laid on her thigh. A sign of comfort and reassurance.

They parked near a quiet overlook — the kind of place only locals and kids with too much time knew about.

The city stretched below them, a mosaic of blinking lights and blurred motion.

Y/N stepped out of the car, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned against the hood.

“Nice spot Norris,” she mumbled.

Lando joined her, nodding. “Yeah. I come here sometimes. When… shit gets loud.”

She smiled faintly. “So, all the time then?”

A breath of laughter escaped him. “Uh Yeah Basically.”

Silence. It wasn’t awkward. Just… suspended.

Then Lando glanced over at her. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”

She met his eyes.

He hesitated. “You don’t have to answer so please don't feel pressured too. But… your ex. What happened?”

Her breath caught, the way it always did when his name came up — even if it wasn’t said out loud.

Y/N looked away.

“He wasn’t… great,” she murmured.

Lando didn’t push.

She took a slow breath. “We met in med school. He was charming. Smart. Everyone loved him. My friends said he was so supportive. Oscar didn’t like him, not from the start. Said he smiled too wide, too fast.”

Her voice dropped.

“At first it was little things. Like... always asking where I was. Who I was with. Then it became why I was with them. Then it turned into, ‘Why didn’t you answer when I called?’”

Flashback.

“You were out with your lab partner? Again?” “It’s a research project—” “You’re always working late with him. Do you think I’m fucking stupid?” “He’s married!” “You think that means anything these days?”

Back on the hill, Y/N blinked hard.

Lando’s hands were still. He didn’t speak. Anger took over him.

“He made me feel like I was always doing something wrong,” she said. “I stopped wearing certain outfits. Stopped eating certain food. Stopped going out unless he was with me. Stopped… being me.”

Flashback.

“Babe, c’mon, don’t wear that. It’s just… too much.” “I like this dress.” “Yeah, well, I don’t want other guys staring at you like you’re a fucking slut. Change.”

Another breath.

“One night… we were arguing. He was yelling. I was crying. Oscar came to pick me up for dinner. He walked in when—” Her voice cracked. “—when he had me cornered. Hand raised about to hit me.” Lando's blood froze and a rush of anger and aggression filled his soul.

Flashback.

“YOU’RE SUCH A FUCKING HEADACHE, Y/N!” “Just let me go!” “I swear to God, if you don’t—” The door bursts open. “Get your fucking hands OFF her.”

“Oscar lost it,” she whispered. “I’d never seen him like that. He told me to pack my stuff. Drove me to Lily’s place. I never went back.”

The wind blew gently across the hilltop.

Lando hadn’t moved.

Y/N’s voice was small. “I know I shouldn’t let one asshole ruin me. But since then I just… I can’t do it. Dating. Trusting someone. Letting them in. I can’t afford to lose myself again.”

Silence.

Lando moved closer.

He didn’t say anything — didn’t try to fix it or offer hollow comfort.

He just pulled her in.

And hugged her.

No words. No flirting. Just arms wrapped around her like a shield, one hand pressed gently against the back of her head as she leaned into him, the sob catching in her throat.

Her tears stained his shirt, and he didn’t let go.

Not until her breathing steadied.

Not until the sun had fully dipped below the horizon.

Not until she whispered, “Thank you.”

And still, he stayed quiet. Just held her closer. And then he kissed her head as a sign of reassurance and security.

taglist: @landofotographyy @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @rd14 @stylesmoonlight12 @azuramicah @il0vereadingstuff @star73807-blog @sltwins @dustie-faerie @stylesmoonlight12 @lauralarsen @ayatotiddies @carey86 @hescrush @xnatqq @downsideup1989 @lilorose25 @henna006 @dustie-faerie @lewishamiltonismybf @ayatotiddies @carey86 @hescrush @xnatqq @downsideup1989 @lilorose25 @henna006 @formulaho @freya2005 @honethatty12

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its-avalon-08 · 5 days ago

Text

📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

themes : fluff, flirting, angst, over protective brother, anxiety

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 4: the slip and storm

The McLaren hospitality lounge buzzed with post-practice chatter. Engineers swapped notes, PR whispered over updated schedules, and Oscar lounged in a chair with a water bottle, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.

He looked up for a second and asked casually, “Anyone seen Y/N?”

It was a question tossed into the void. One of those throwaway sentences meant to be ignored or vaguely answered.

But Lando, too comfortable, too relaxed in his seat across the room, didn’t even hesitate.

“She went to get an iced oat latte. Should be back in ten, she said.”

The room kept moving. No one paid attention. But Oscar stilled.

Slowly, too slowly, his gaze snapped to Lando. “What?”

Lando looked up, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “She told me last night when I called. Said the coffee here is weak and she needed real caffeine or she’d combust.” He grinned a little, fond. “I told her to try that corner place I liked in Monaco—”

“You told her?” Oscar cut him off, voice ice-cold now. “Why the fuck are you telling her anything?”

Lando blinked, confused. “I—I don’t know, mate, we’ve just been talking—”

“Talking?” Oscar stood abruptly. “What the hell does that mean? You’re texting my sister now?”

Lando sat straighter, the mood changing instantly. “It’s not a big deal—”

“Oh, really? Because you knowing her coffee order, her exact location, and casually saying she texted you sure as hell feels like a big fucking deal to me.”

“Don’t do this,” Lando said, quieter now. “Oscar—”

“No, you don’t get to ‘Oscar’ me like I’m being dramatic. I told you, explicitly, to stay the fuck away from her.”

Lando stood now too, face tense. “I wasn’t trying anything! We were just talking. She's easy to talk to, alright? She's funny, and smart, and—”

“Don’t.” Oscar’s voice dropped dangerously low. “Don’t you fucking list things about her like you know her. You don’t. And you sure as hell don’t get to like her.”

Lando clenched his jaw. “I never said I did.”

“But you do.”

Silence.

That was enough.

Oscar let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Of course. Of fucking course. You couldn’t help yourself.”

“I didn’t plan it,” Lando muttered. “It just… happened.”

“Oh, like she’s a pit stop you didn’t mean to take?” Oscar snapped. “She’s not a detour, Norris. She’s not a casual little joke for you to flirt with on a Wednesday and forget by the podium.”

“Jesus, Oscar, I’m not like that—”

“You are. You’ve always been. And now you’ve got your eye on my sister?”

That’s when the door opened.

Y/N stepped in, iced coffee in one hand, a soft smile on her face—until she saw Oscar’s expression. The tension. The red blooming across his cheeks. The way Lando’s fists were clenched at his sides.

“Uh..what’s going on?” she asked, blinking between them.

Oscar didn’t even look at her.

Didn’t acknowledge the coffee. Didn’t meet her eyes.

He just muttered, “Fucking unbelievable,” pushed past her roughly, and stormed out.

She froze in place, stunned. The door slammed shut behind him.

The room had gone quiet. Too quiet.

Lando exhaled shakily and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Hey…” she said slowly, voice soft now. “What just happened?”

Lando met her eyes—guilt and frustration swimming behind his own.

“…He knows.”

Her heart dropped.

Y/N sprinted through the paddock, dodging camera crews and team members, her heart pounding in her ears louder than the announcements blaring over the speakers. She spotted the familiar McLaren driver's room door just as it slammed shut.

She didn’t even knock.

Pushing it open, she slipped inside, breathless. “Oscar—”

He was by his locker, arms crossed, jaw clenched. Cold.

“Don’t.”

She froze mid-step. “Don’t what?”

Oscar turned to her slowly, eyes sharp, voice like ice. “Don’t come in here and act like you don’t know exactly what you’ve done.”

Y/N blinked, trying to keep her cool. “Oscar, what the hell is going on—”

“What was my one fucking rule?” he snapped, stepping forward. “What was it, Y/N?”

Her lips parted, confused. “What—what are you talking about?”

He stared at her, breathing hard. “No. Dating. Teammates. No drivers. That’s it. That was all I ever asked.”

“I’m not—Oscar, I’m not dating anyone,” she said, incredulous. “Seriously? You’re flipping out over a conversation?”

“A conversation,” he repeated with a bitter laugh. “Oh, so the texts? The late-night calls? The giggling in the paddock? The way he looks at you like you’re the fucking moon? That’s just casual chat?”

Y/N’s face hardened. “We’re friends.” She was lying to herself and she knew it as well as Oscar did.

Oscar scoffed. “No, he doesn’t want to be your friend. He wants more. And you—you know it.”

Her voice rose, defiant. “Maybe he does. So what? I’m allowed to have people in my life who are good to me, aren’t I?”

Oscar stepped back, his expression unreadable. “You don’t get it.”

“Oh, I do. This is about control, Oscar. It’s always been about control with me.”

“Control?” he repeated, voice sharp. “You think I want to control you?”

“You’re sure as hell trying!” she shouted.

He shook his head, stepping past her like he couldn’t stand to look at her. “You wanna know why I made that rule?” he asked, quieter now but way more dangerous. “Because of that idiot ex who broke you. Because I had to watch you fall apart, bit by bit. You shut yourself off, Y/N. You doubted yourself. You stopped FUCKING eating Y/N. All that handwork you put into your job was going to crumble if I hadn't helped. And I swore I’d never let someone in this paddock do that to you again.”

Her jaw tightened. “I’m not that girl anymore.”

“Yeah? Then stop fucking acting like she doesn’t still live in your head,” he snapped.

Silence. Heavy. Suffocating.

Y/N crossed her arms, voice trembling. “You think so little of me.”

Oscar looked at her for a long beat. Something flickered in his eyes—something close to regret—but he didn’t say a word. Just grabbed his helmet from the shelf.

“Don’t come find me after quali,” he muttered. “I need space.”

“Are you serious right now Osc—?”

The door shut behind him before she could finish.

And she was left alone, in his room, the sound of the paddock muffled behind the thick walls… but loud enough to remind her that everything had just changed.

taglist: @landofotographyy @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @rd14 @stylesmoonlight12 @azuramicah @il0vereadingstuff @star73807-blog @sltwins @dustie-faerie @stylesmoonlight12 @lauralarsen @ayatotiddies @carey86 @hescrush @xnatqq @downsideup1989 @lilorose25 @henna006 @dustie-faerie @lewishamiltonismybf

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its-avalon-08 · 6 days ago

Text

📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

themes : fluff, flirting, over protective brother, anxiety

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 3 : getting closer

Y/N sat cross-legged on the hospitality couch, laptop finally safe and secured in her tote. Lando plopped down a few feet away, spinning a cold water bottle between his hands, glancing over at her every so often.

“So,” he said, eyes flicking up, “medical research, huh?”

She smiled, head tilting. “Don’t say it like that. You make it sound like I’m building Frankenstein in a lab.”

“Are you?”

“Maybe.” She shrugged, leaning back into the couch. “But mine would be prettier. And less... stabby.”

Lando laughed. “Noted. If you start working on a charming British prototype, I volunteer.”

“Oh no, he’d be smart and emotionally available. So definitely not you.”

He feigned offense, dramatically clutching his chest. “Ouch. You wound me mini Piastri.”

“Good you deserve it Norris,” she said sweetly, sipping from her water.

There was a brief pause as he smiled down at his hands.

“You always like this?” he asked.

She blinked. “Define ‘like this.’”

“Just—sharp. Funny. A little terrifying.”

She grinned. “I prefer the term intellectually intimidating with a touch of grace.”

He snorted. “So terrifying.”

She let out a breathy laugh and looked at him properly then, taking in the messy curls still damp from his helmet, the playful glint in his eye that softened every time he looked at her. “I don’t usually let people see me panic,” she said quietly.

“I don’t think less of you,” he said without hesitation. “Actually... kind of the opposite.”

She raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Because I lost an entire laptop?”

“No. Because you cared enough to freak out,” he said, voice lighter than usual but still sincere. “Shows it matters. I respect that. It's impressive to know you cared about your research and I don't know, it just makes you seem human.”

There was a beat.

Y/N looked down, twisting the edge of her laptop sleeve. “You’re different in person.”

“Yeah?” he asked, nudging her sneaker with his.

She nodded. “Less Instagram, more human.”

He laughed. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all week.”

“Glad I could keep you humble.”

They shared a smile, something lingering in the air between them now—barely there, but it buzzed under her skin.

Lando leaned back on his elbows, looking out toward the terrace. “You know... you're a good balance for him.”

She blinked. “Who?”

“Oscar. You ground him. In a funny way. Like... you don’t let him get away with being too serious.”

She chuckled. “He’s been that way since birth. I came out cracking jokes. Balance, I guess.”

He glanced at her. “So what grounds you?”

She paused, caught off guard by the question.

“…Honestly? Quiet. Soft things. Long showers. Instrumentals. My work. Stuff that’s mine and no one else’s.”

He nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”

She looked at him sideways. “You’re surprisingly introspective for someone who literally says hee hee in interviews.”

He burst into laughter. “Okay, rude, but fair.”

She zipped up her tote and stood up, slinging it over her shoulder. “Alright, Mr. Not-Charming. I have data sets to cry over and a brother to yell at.”

Lando stood too, brushing invisible lint off his suit pants. “Sure you don’t wanna stick around and psychoanalyze me some more?”

She smirked, adjusting her sunglasses. “You couldn’t handle it.”

He watched her for a second, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression. “You’re probably right.”

She gave him a small, sincere smile. “Thanks again. Really.”

“Anytime, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft.

She turned, walking off down the paddock, hair swaying, laptop safe and her heart maybe just a little unsteady—though she'd never admit that part.

Lando stood there a beat longer, hands in his pockets, watching the spot where she'd just been.

And for the first time that weekend, he wasn’t thinking about the race.

A few weeks have passed.

The soft hum of a late-night show played quietly in the background, casting flickering shadows across Oscar’s apartment. The warm, dim light from the lamp next to the couch bathed the living room in a comforting glow. Lily tucked herself into his side, blanket pulled up to her chin, legs tangled with his under the throw.

Oscar absentmindedly played with a strand of her hair, but his jaw was tight—there was a tension in his eyes that hadn’t faded since dinner.

Lily noticed, of course she did.

“What’s going on in that brain of yours baby?” she asked softly, tilting her head to look up at him.

Oscar let out a short breath through his nose. “It’s nothing my love.” He kissed her forehead.

Lily just raised an eyebrow. No words. Just that. The eyebrow. The one that made Oscar cave every single time. Her eyes looked right into his soul.

“Okay,” he said finally. “It’s Lando.”

“…Lando?” she blinked. “What did he do now? Use your shampoo again?”

Oscar scowled. “No. Worse. He’s… hovering around Y/N.”

Lily held back a smile. “Hovering?”

“You know what I mean.”

—

[cut to: Y/N’s apartment – late night]

Her laptop was open in front of her, half-finished notes blinking on a Word doc, but her phone lit up with another text.

Lando [11:48 PM]: you know if you were here i’d be making you toast rn. like the fancy kind. with cinnamon and stuff.

Y/N [11:49 PM]: you say that like i don’t have a toaster also cinnamon toast is so 2006

Lando [11:49 PM]: excuse you it’s timeless

Y/N [11:50 PM]: you’re lucky you’re kind of funny Norris

—

Back in the apartment, Lily sat up a little.

“Oscar… Y/N’s not a kid. You don’t have to monitor everyone who breathes near her. I mean you can't. She's her own person Osc.”

Oscar’s expression turned steely. “I know she’s not a kid. But that doesn’t mean I trust everyone who suddenly wants to be close to her.”

“She and Lando haven’t even—”

“She better not,” he snapped. “Not with him.”

Lily blinked at the sharpness in his tone.

Oscar scrubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “My love I'm sorry. Didn't mean that. It's just that Lando’s my teammate. My friend. But he’s… Lando.”

“And what exactly does that mean?”

“It means he flirts with literally everyone, doesn’t think before he speaks, and has the emotional depth of a teaspoon most days.”

“Harsh.”

Oscar’s voice dropped. “She’s been through enough, Lily. After that idiot ex—after the way he messed with her head, made her feel small and stupid—she deserves peace. Not… not another guy who’s gonna say all the right things and leave.”

—

[cut to: paddock – a week earlier]

Y/N stood next to Lando near the McLaren garage, both of them eating frozen grapes from a little cup one of the staff handed them.

“Okay,” he said, mouth full. “Top five medical facts that would terrify the average human.”

She smirked. “Number one, the human stomach has more neurons than a cat’s brain.”

He paused. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

“…Does that mean my stomach’s smarter than me?”

She popped a grape into her mouth. “Statistically? Possibly.”

He burst out laughing.

—

Back in the apartment, Lily squeezed his arm gently. “But Y/N… she’s happy lately.”

“She’s always happy around people. Doesn’t mean she’s not hiding it.” Oscar’s jaw clenched. “I know her. I know when she’s guarding herself.”

Lily looked at him carefully. “Are you sure this is about her? Or are you scared because you can’t control this?”

Oscar flinched, eyes dark. “I don’t care if I sound controlling. I don’t. She’s my sister. And no one—not even Lando—is getting near her if I don’t think they’re good enough.”

—

[cut to: Y/N’s hotel room – midnight FaceTime]

Her phone buzzed and she propped it up with her water bottle, revealing a very cozy, hoodie-clad Lando, sprawled across a hotel bed.

“Why are you still awake?” she asked, hiding a smile.

He grinned. “Couldn’t sleep. Missed your voice.”

“You heard my voice this afternoon.”

“Yeah, well. Withdrawal.”

She rolled her eyes, but her cheeks flushed. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it.”

She didn’t answer that. Just looked at him through the screen for a moment.

He went quiet too. Then, gently— “You ever gonna tell your brother we talk?”

Her smile faded a bit, something thoughtful passing through her expression.

“Eventually,” she said quietly. “When I know what this is.”

Lando didn’t press. He just nodded.

“Okay,” he said. “No pressure.”

But his smile told her he already knew what this was.

And maybe, deep down, so did she.

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its-avalon-08 · 7 days ago

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📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

themes : fluff, flirting, over protective brother, anxiety

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 2 : aussies and laptops

The next day as Y/N had her sunglasses perched lazily on top of her head, arms crossed as she walked toward the food area, the sunlight catching on the edge of her gold hoops. Her outfit was sharp, effortless—cream trousers, a cropped black tee, and an oversized blazer that somehow made her look like she ran the whole team. Not that she cared. She just liked being comfortable and stunning.

She was about to grab a coffee when—

“Oi, is that a real medical researcher in the paddock, or just someone who got lost?”

Y/N’s head snapped up.

Jack Doohan.

She broke into a wide grin, momentarily dropping her cool, and practically launched into his arms.

“You menace,” she said, hugging him tightly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I race, remember you moron?” he teased, pulling back but keeping his hands on her shoulders. “I heard you were finally crawling out of your lab, thought I’d come see if the rumors were true.”

“Still not as ugly as I expected,” she said, deadpan.

Jack laughed. “And you’re still incapable of giving a compliment I see. Still only talk to the germs your study?”

They chatted easily, trading stories and updates—Jack teasing her about her always-busy brain, Y/N rolling her eyes as she asked about his last race weekend and his weird new gym obsession along with a protein shake obsession which Y/N was going to lecture him about later. It was all laughter and casual nudges, the kind of warmth that could only come from years of friendship and long-distance FaceTimes at 2 a.m.

But from a distance, it might’ve looked like... more.

Oscar was leaning against a wall nearby, scrolling on his phone, unbothered. He didn’t even look up.

Lando, on the other hand, had stopped mid-sip of his smoothie, eyes narrowed slightly.

“What’s that?” he asked, gesturing toward Y/N and Jack.

Oscar didn’t glance up. “Jack and my sister.”

“As in...?”

“Doohan. Aussie driver. Family friend. Like an annoying cousin, but louder.”

Lando watched as Jack playfully flicked Y/N’s braid, earning a shove and a mock glare from her. “Yeah no fucker I know that. Its just that.. They seem... close.”

Oscar side-eyed him. “What’s with the tone?”

“No tone,” Lando said quickly, too quickly. “Just asking. You said she doesn’t come to races much, so I figured—”

“Figured what?”

Lando scratched the back of his neck. “I dunno. That she’d be... less flirty with other drivers I guess?”

Oscar finally looked up, eyebrows rising. “You think that was flirting Lando? Have you lost it?”

“Well, no,” Lando said. “I mean. I don’t know. Just looked like it. Kind of.”

Oscar snorted. “Mate, that’s Y/N’s resting warmth face. She’s like that with people she actually likes y'know. So not you?”

“So she likes him?”

Oscar gave him a flat look. “Not like that. Jack’s been around since we were kids. He’s like a brother to both of us. Him and Y/N were in school together and they just remained really good friends.”

Lando looked unconvinced.

Oscar sighed. “Look, if you’re trying to figure out whether Y/N’s on the market, save yourself the trouble. She’s not.”

Lando raised a brow. “She told you that?”

“She doesn’t need to. She’s got stuff going on. Goals. Plans. She's just not interested in dating anyone right now.”

Lando nodded slowly, then smirked. “So I'm assuming it was a toxic ex right?” Lando meant this as a joke.

Oscar flinched before he could stop himself.

“...Maybe,” he said, voice tighter than before. “But that’s not the point.”

Lando caught it. “Wait—she had a—?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Oscar cut in quickly, then shot him a very deliberate look. “What does matter is that you—under no circumstances—try anything with my sister. Ever.”

Lando blinked. “What?”

“I’m serious,” Oscar said. “I like you, mate. I really do. But I will kick you in the balls and tighten the straps on so tight when u sit in the car that you can't breathe if I find out you’re trying to charm her.”

Lando chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. No charm. Just conversation.”

Oscar squinted. “You’re incapable of just conversation.”

Lando shrugged, eyes drifting back toward Y/N—who was now holding two coffees and talking animatedly with a chef about whether the brownies were gluten-free. Her laugh rang out, soft and unbothered.

Lando’s gaze lingered.

“Swear to God, Norris,” Oscar muttered.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You thought something. I felt it.”

The paddock was buzzing with post-FP3 energy—engineers pacing, radio static crackling through headsets, and the distant murmur of press activity. Y/N had stationed herself in the hospitality area, one sneaker balanced on the rung of a stool, sipping a lukewarm oat milk latte that had long since lost its charm.

Oscar appeared beside her, all sweat and smugness from the session, his race suit half unzipped, the fireproof undershirt clinging to his arms.

“You’re dripping, that’s grossss pastry get outta here,” Y/N said flatly, wrinkling her nose.

“Love you too,” he replied, and without warning, ruffled her hair—damp curls and all.

“OSCAR!” she yelped, batting his hand away as she tried to fix the chaos on her head.

He was already halfway gone, jogging off toward the McLaren motorhome, grinning. “Be nice to people! Don’t roast everyone you meet!”

“Be less soggy next time and I’ll consider it,” she shouted after him, though her voice was more fond than anything.

She chuckled, shook her head... and then her heart dropped.

Her bag was slouched next to the couch she’d been sitting on earlier, but—

“Where’s my bloody laptop?” she muttered.

Her smile vanished.

She unzipped the bag. Twice. Shook it upside down. Checked under the couch, around the table, even under the decorative cushions like her MacBook was trying to play hide-and-seek.

It wasn’t there. Her anxiety was rising higher and higher every passing second that she didn't find her laptop.

Her hands started to tremble a bit.

Okay. Okay. Maybe she left it near the garage earlier? No—she remembered plugging it in here. Right here. She needed it. All her lab notes, her research drafts, her recent paper edits—it was everything.

Her breath started to quicken, the edges of her vision getting fuzzy, like her thoughts were getting louder and louder and yet somehow out of reach.

“Oh god. Oh god, no. I swear—I swear I left it right—”

“Hey.”

She jumped, turning quickly to see Lando standing a few feet away, helmet in hand, face flushed from the session.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said gently, holding his hands up. “You okay?”

“I—uh—no. Not really. I lost—my laptop—I had it and now it’s not here and I think I might... I dunno, throw up.”

Her voice cracked on the last word.

Lando stepped closer, carefully, like approaching a spooked bird. “Okay. Let’s slow down. Breathe with me.”

Y/N blinked at him, wide-eyed.

He exaggerated a long inhale, hands on his chest. “In.”

She mirrored him, shaky and shallow.

“Nope,” he said softly, shaking his head. “That was a half-breath. Come on, in. Like you’re blowing up a balloon.”

She inhaled deeper this time.

“Good. Now out,” he exhaled, dragging the sound out.

They did it twice more.

Her shoulders relaxed. Just a little.

“I don’t usually panic like this,” she said, voice smaller now. “But I had all my research notes on that laptop. Like—my entire semester’s work. And drafts I haven’t backed up because I’m a moron—”

“You’re not a moron,” Lando said quickly. “You’re brilliant. And also, you’re not alone in this. We’ll find it.”

Y/N dropped onto the stool beside her. “If I cry, I want it on the record I’m blaming Oscar for messing up my brain with that disgusting hair ruffle.”

“I can co-sign that,” Lando said with a smile. “Now, you said you were sitting here earlier, yeah?”

“Yeah. It was plugged in.”

Lando crouched down, checking behind the table, under wires, under furniture. He was surprisingly quiet—focused—and not a single flirty comment passed his lips. Just calm energy.

After a moment, he straightened up. “Did you by any chance move to the terrace area? Near the espresso machine?”

Her eyes widened. “Oh my god. I did. I went out there for like, five minutes because the lighting was better—”

Lando was already on the move.

Y/N scrambled after him, adrenaline still lingering but a flicker of hope in her chest.

And there, sitting neatly on a bench table just outside the glass doors, was her laptop. Right where she’d left it.

“Oh thank god,” she breathed, rushing over and cradling it like a newborn. “You actual lifesaver.”

“Told you we’d find it,” he said, hands in his pockets now, looking smug.

She exhaled, long and slow. “I could marry you.”

He raised an eyebrow—playfully, but still careful. “Well come on then!”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “Oh boy, that's my bad now. No marriage. Not if you start smirking like that.”

He laughed. “Alright, alright. No charm. Just glad you’re okay.”

She glanced at him, heart rate finally stabilizing. “Thanks, Lando.”

“Anytime.”

There was a brief silence—comfortable, soft.

Then she added with a grin, “But if you ever tell Oscar I panicked like this, I will Photoshop you into a Ferrari shirt and leak it to the press.”

Lando held up a pinky. “Sworn to secrecy.”

She hooked hers with his.

taglist: @landofotographyy @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @rd14 @stylesmoonlight12 @azuramicah @il0vereadingstuff @star73807-blog

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its-avalon-08 · 7 days ago

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📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

🏁 pairing : Lando Norris x Piastri!Sister!Reader

themes : fluff, flirting, over protective brother, anxiety

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 1 : the science of flirting

Y/N Piastri had mastered the art of multitasking: conducting enzyme research for her thesis while roasting Oscar over FaceTime. It was a talent. A gift. A lifestyle. She did it in a perfectly tailored cream blazer and high-waisted trousers that screamed effortlessly intimidating, because—despite what her brother liked to say frankly coming from a guy who wore unironed polo shirts and team merch his opinion did not matter much—she had taste. In fashion. In men. In careers.

“Are you seriously wearing Crocs in the paddock?” she asked flatly, watching Oscar through the screen with one perfectly raised brow. “What are you trying to do? Blind your fans with bad footwear? Ruin my very FASHIONABLE reputation?”

Oscar scoffed, adjusting the phone so only half his face was visible. “They’re comfortable. Unlike some people I know who wear uncomfortable shoes and then steal mine at the end of the day.”

“Bold of you to talk about comfort while driving at 300 km/h for a living.”

He ignored her jab. “You sure you still wanna come to the race this weekend? You’ll have to talk to people who don’t know the molecular structure of caffeine.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, tucking a pen behind her ear. “I talk to normal people, Oscar. Just not ones who try to flirt with me using car metaphors.”

“Right,” he snorted. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you if Lando tries something.”

Y/N smirked, deadpan. “If he hits on me using anything remotely car-related, I'll puncture all the tyres”

Oscar stared at her. “That’s not funny because you don't know which car is his and which one is mine.”

“Neither is him saying ‘Are you a pit stop? Because you take my breath away.’”

He groaned. “I hate that I can actually imagine him saying that.” The two siblings scoff as they left their house.

—

The Melbourne paddock buzzed with energy, camera flashes popping and engines growling in the background. Everyone seemed to glide through the place like they’d been born on four wheels.

Y/N wasn’t out of place—far from it. She didn’t look like someone’s plus-one. She looked like someone people should already know. Black sunglasses perched on her head, silk scarf tied neatly around her ponytail, and a two piece outfit that was sophisticated but cool, like if fashion week collided with a TED Talk.

Oscar walked beside her, mildly regretting this already.

“You sure you’re not here to network with the media team?” he asked.

“I’m here for the free food and to make you nervous,” she replied sweetly. “So far, ten out of ten experience.”

They turned the corner into McLaren hospitality, and that’s when he appeared.

Lando Norris. In all his chaotic-haired, golden-boy glory. Grinning like he knew a joke no one else did and wearing a hoodie like he hadn’t just gotten out of a multi-million-dollar race car. He was leaning against a table, talking to a team member, but his eyes flicked up the moment Oscar and Y/N walked in.

And stayed.

“Oh no,” Oscar muttered.

“Oh yes,” Y/N replied under her breath.

She could feel it—the pause, the instant shift in the air. Lando’s gaze lingered longer than polite, but not creepy. Curious. Interested. That annoying kind of confident that made you feel it.

“Oi, Piastri,” Lando greeted, walking over. “Didn’t know you had a sister. You’ve been hiding her?”

Oscar sighed. “Lando, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is the mistake I told you about.”

“Charmed,” she said dryly, holding out a hand.

Lando shook it, his smile widening. “Y/N, huh? Is that short for ‘You’re Not Real’? Because you’ve just messed with my whole concept of beauty.”

She blinked. “Wow. That was so bad it physically hurt. Cmon mate, you have to try better than that.”

Oscar scoffed.

He laughed, full and unbothered. “You’re quick.”

“I’m usually quicker, but I left my will to flirt at home. Tragic.”

Oscar looked up at the sky, silently begging for strength.

“I’ll catch up with you later,” he said to Lando, already walking off with a grimace. “Good luck, mate. She bites.”

Y/N didn’t look away from Lando, arms folded. “You always this forward, or am I just lucky?”

“I like to think I’m selectively charming,” Lando replied, leaning in just enough. “But you... you’re different.”

“And you’re persistent. But I’m not here for any of that.” She gestured vaguely at his entire being.

Lando chuckled. “Noted. So, what are you here for?”

“My brother. Research. Maybe a snack.”

He tilted his head. “Research?”

“I’m in postgrad. Molecular biology.” She gave him a look. “That’s the study of very tiny things. Like your chances and dick.”

Lando whistled, genuinely impressed. “Brutal.”

“Honest,” she corrected, then raised a brow. “And yet, you’re still here.”

He shrugged. “I’m an optimist.”

“Must be exhausting.”

And yet... as she walked away with a perfectly timed pivot, Y/N felt it. That weird, fluttering, infuriating buzz in her stomach. Not nausea. Not anxiety.

Interest.

God help her.

She was in trouble.

Y/N had wandered off from Oscar after her snark-off with Lando, her heels clicking softly against the pavement as she slipped into the casual bustle of the McLaren garage.

It wasn’t stiff or uptight the way she’d half-expected. It felt... human. Laughter rang from a group of engineers huddled near a monitor. A young mechanic wiped his hands on a rag, grinning as someone handed him a coffee. She liked this. People who worked hard, spoke fast, and loved what they did.

She stepped into a small circle of staff sharing snacks by a fold-up table.

“Is that banana bread?” she asked, lips curved into an easy smile.

A blonde woman in a McLaren polo turned, brightening. “Yeah! I baked it last night. Want some?”

“Obviously,” Y/N said seriously, accepting a slice. “You’ve just instantly become my favorite person here. Sorry to everyone else.”

The group laughed, easing around her like she’d always been part of it. No awkward introductions. No ‘who is she?’ whispers. Just instant comfort, the kind she was so good at creating.

One of the older crew members raised an eyebrow. “You’re Oscar’s sister, right?”

“That’s the rumor,” she said, taking a bite. “Don’t hold it against me.”

Someone snorted. “Honestly, you’re already cooler.”

“That’s because you haven’t seen me trying to parallel park,” she said. “It evens out.”

She chatted with them for a while—asking about their roles, teasing the data analyst for choosing numbers over sleep, complimenting someone’s sneakers, laughing so genuinely that one of the interns looked a little starstruck.

“You’re not what I expected,” one of the women admitted after a while, sipping her drink.

“Oh really? Why's that??” Y/N arched a brow.

“Just... usually when someone’s related to a driver, they’re either intimidating or completely disinterested in the team. I mean, you should see some of the people who wander in here. They don't have a whiff of interest about what actually builds the car y'know? Just the flashy driver who drives and sometimes crashes it. But you’re—”

“Unreasonably obsessed with banana bread?” Y/N offered.

The woman laughed. “No. Just really warm.”

Y/N gave her a soft smile. “I like people who love what they do. You all work your asses off. You deserve to feel seen and I'm here to do just that. Like seriously I'm in a research position too. I know the reality of how many people it really takes to get anything done. ”

That was the thing about her. She didn’t try to win people over. She just noticed things. The subtle stuff. The nervous smile of an intern on their first day. The quiet pride in someone’s voice when they talked about tweaking tire strategy. She made them feel like they mattered.

And all the while, as she stood with her arms folded, leaning casually against a table, she let her eyes flick across the garage—

Lando.

He wasn’t being flashy. Wasn’t surrounded by fans or lights. Just... being him. He ruffled the hair of a younger mechanic who looked like he’d just joined, cracking a joke that made the guy laugh so hard he nearly dropped his clipboard. He waited for an older engineer to finish her sentence before responding—nodding like he actually cared, and not just because he had to. When someone spilled water near the rear tires, Lando knelt without hesitation to help mop it up.

He was annoyingly charismatic. In that ‘you’d-hate-it-if-it-wasn’t-so-genuine’ kind of way.

Y/N watched, casually sipping her drink, saying nothing.

“You’re looking at him,” the blonde woman beside her said suddenly.

Y/N’s lips twitched. “Am I?”

The woman smirked. “You didn’t blink for a full minute.”

“Maybe I was admiring the floor,” Y/N replied dryly. “Stunning linoleum work.”

The girl chuckled. “He’s a good one. Bit of a menace. But he remembers everyone’s birthdays and helps me fix my laptop when IT ghosts me.”

“Dangerous combination,” Y/N murmured. “Menace with emotional intelligence.”

Across the way, Lando caught her eye.

Just a flicker. Barely more than a moment.

But he winked.

She didn’t look away. Just tilted her head slightly and gave him a tiny smile. Not flirty. Not dismissive. Just... amused.

“I swear,” someone whispered, “he’s been on his best behavior since you walked in.”

“Maybe he’s just scared I’ll out-sarcasm him in public,” Y/N replied sweetly, brushing a crumb off her jumpsuit.

But as the group laughed again, falling back into easy conversation, she didn’t say another word about Lando.

Not one.

Just let her eyes drift now and then, as if noticing him had become a habit she didn’t quite want to break.

taglist: @landofotographyy @doofenshmirtzevil-inc @rd14

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its-avalon-08 · 7 days ago

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📣 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖 📣

a Lando Norris x Piastri!sister fanfic

she’s oscar piastri’s younger sister — dry humoured, sharp as hell, sweet when she wants to be, and entirely uninterested in dating. especially flirty british f1 drivers.

he’s lando norris — charming, golden retriever-coded, always surrounded by people, and suddenly very intrigued by the girl who doesn’t give him the time of day.

she comes to the paddock for the first time, just to support her brother. but somewhere between stolen glances, chaotic food runs, and a missing laptop, something begins to shift.

(he promised oscar he wouldn’t fall. but lando��s never been great at keeping promises.)

comment to get added to taglist | updates daily | ten part series

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its-avalon-08 · 8 days ago

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🏎️ｂａｃｋ　ｔｏ　ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ🏎️

🏁 pairing : Oscar Piastri x Female!Reporter!Reader

🏎️ summary : one night. one mistake. and now oscar piastri acts like y/n doesn’t exist. in the paddock, under flashing cameras and whispered headlines, they navigate the wreckage—cold shoulders, stolen glances, and tension sharp enough to cut. but resentment is a funny thing. so is regret. because no matter how hard they try to pretend… neither of them can forget.

🏎️ 🏁 important announcement : this is the final part of the story, thank you for all your support for this series! I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoy writing this! do comment, like and/or reblog if possible :)) as for the song that inspired this series, enjoy listening to it during the finale!

themes : angst, regret, anger, slight smut (not a lot most of it is implied)

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 10 : back to friends lovers

The roar of the crowd is deafening. The moment Oscar crosses the finish line, securing his first ever Formula 1 win, the McLaren garage erupts. Mechanics jump onto the pit wall, arms raised, voices lost in the chaos of celebration.

Y/N watches it all unfold from the media pen, her heart pounding. She has never seen Oscar drive like that—so calculated, so relentless, so utterly unstoppable. And now, he’s won.

Her hands tremble as she clutches the mic, waiting for the post-race interviews to start. But she knows she won’t be able to ask him a single question.

Because Oscar is already looking for her.

The second he steps out of his car, helmet off, curls damp with sweat, he’s scanning the sea of people. Ignoring the cameras. Ignoring the reporters. Ignoring the McLaren team waiting to swarm him.

And then—he finds her.

Their eyes lock.

And suddenly, he’s moving.

Y/N barely has time to react before Oscar breaks into a sprint, shoving past crew members, ignoring Lando’s whooping laughter somewhere behind him.

“PIASTRI! INTERVIEW!” A PR rep calls out, exasperated.

He doesn’t care.

He doesn’t stop until he’s right in front of her, chest rising and falling, adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

“Oscar, what are you—”

And then, in front of the entire paddock, in front of cameras, journalists, rival teams, and his own damn boss,

He kisses her.

Full-on, fierce, unapologetic, no-more-hiding type of kiss.

Y/N gasps against his lips, momentarily stunned, but her hands find his race suit anyway, gripping him like she’ll never let go.

The crowd goes feral.

Lando’s laughter turns into cheers. Paparazzi cameras flash. The McLaren crew whoops in delight.

Oscar grins against her lips before pulling back just enough to murmur, “Told you I’d make you mine.”

Y/N, dazed, breathless, and completely in love, can only laugh. “Yeah, you really did.”

oscarpiastri just posted!

got the girl. tagged : yourusername

View all 300,890,482 comments

landonorris: fucking finally. at least now you'll stop making google eyes at each other.

maxverstappen1: @landonorris I won the bet pay up.

yourusername: my fav koala boy, I love you (❤️by author)

mclarengirl77: my parents omg they're so cute ill die

piastri_fanclub: wtfff why herrrr -> carlossainz: boo hater ew -> norrisnation: HE ATE HER UP AHAHAH

F1 Twitter Is In Fucking Shambles.

taglist - @morganalatina21 @armystay89 @aizen-lover @sh1nedreamsm1le7 @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @bbreezyxoxo @downsideup1989 @wherethezoes-at @ginsengi @azuramicah @isotopemylove @virtualperfectioncat @kuskumu @profoundgreenturtle @virtualperfectioncat @kuskumu

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its-avalon-08 · 9 days ago

Text

🏎️ｂａｃｋ　ｔｏ　ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ🏎️

🏁 pairing : Oscar Piastri x Female!Reporter!Reader

themes : angst, regret, anger, slight smut (not a lot most of it is implied)

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 9 : finally us

The car ride is silent. Not awkward—just charged.

Y/N sits stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, eyes firmly on the road ahead. Not because she’s mad. Oh, no.

Because Oscar’s hands are on the wheel.

Big. Veiny. Hands. And honestly a part of her needed his hands around her neck. as soon as fucking possible.

The kind of hands that had been on her just minutes ago. Gripping, tugging, pulling her closer.

She shudders and she presses her knees together,

Oscar, ever the observant bastard, notices.

A slow smirk tugs at his lips. “Something wrong?”

Y/N forces herself to look out the window. “No.”

Oscar hums. “You sure?” He taps his fingers against the steering wheel, flexing them slightly. On purpose.

Y/N hates him.

She grits her teeth. “Very.”

Oscar lifts one hand and runs it through his hair, his forearm straining, veins prominent. “You’re staring.”

“I am not. You're not all that y'know?”

He grins, shifting gears, making his forearm flex again. “I think you are.”

“I think you should shut the fuck up.”

Oscar chuckles, the sound deep and amused. “Funny. You didn’t want me to shut up earlier.”

Her jaw drops. “Oh my God, Oscar.”

He laughs, taking a quick glance at her. “What?”

“You are insufferable.”

“And yet,” he pauses, drumming his fingers against the wheel, “you like me.”

Y/N huffs, arms crossing tighter over her chest. “Debatable.”

Oscar raises a brow. “Debatable?”

Y/N nods. “Very.”

He exhales a laugh, then—without warning—drops a hand from the wheel and places it on her thigh and squeezes.

Y/N freezes.

Oscar smirks. “Still debatable?”

Her breath catches. He’s not doing anything—just resting his hand there, warm, firm, fingers slightly curled.

It’s infuriating.

She glares at him. “Watch the damn road, Piastri.”

He grins, giving her thigh a gentle squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel.

“Sure thing, Y/N.”

The car hums beneath them as Oscar pulls into the hotel parking lot. Neither of them moves to get out. The air between them is thick—not with tension, not anymore.

With something softer. Something real.

Y/N shifts in her seat, eyes flickering toward Oscar, who’s resting his hands on the wheel, tapping his fingers absentmindedly. His jaw clenches once, then relaxes as if he’s making up his mind about something.

Finally, he speaks.

“So what now?”

Y/N exhales, turning to face him fully. “You tell me.”

Oscar meets her gaze, and there’s no hesitation this time. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.” His voice is firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation. “I don’t want to go back to acting like we don’t know each other.”

Y/N swallows. “Oscar, you—” She shakes her head. “You were the one who left so I'm kind of in the dark with now.”

“I know.” He looks down at his hands. “And I’ve regretted it every second since.” He exhales sharply, shaking his head. “I thought I was doing the right thing, keeping things simple. But all I did was make a mess of everything.”

Y/N watches him carefully. He’s so earnest, so unlike the cool, collected guy she’s used to seeing. It’s disarming.

“I want to fix this,” he continues, voice lower now, sincere. “If you can forgive me… if you can give me another chance—” He swallows, eyes locking onto hers. “I want to make you mine.”

Y/N’s breath catches.

Oscar shifts slightly, leaning closer. “But… in my head, you already are.”

Her heart stumbles.

Silence hangs between them for a beat.

Then, finally, Y/N speaks. “Oscar…” She chews on her lip. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

His brows knit together. “You won’t.”

She searches his face for any sign of hesitation—any trace of doubt. But there’s none. Just quiet, steady certainty.

“You promise?”

His lips tug into the faintest smile. “I promise I'll be there. Every morning, every night until you don't want me anymore. I want to be the one to get your morning caramel coffee and listen to you rant about anything and everything. I want to be the guy who gets to see your special smile. I want to be everything for you, if you'll have me.”

Y/N exhales, tension melting from her shoulders.

“Okay.” Her voice is barely above a whisper.

Oscar tilts his head. “Yeah?”

She nods. “Yeah I want you Oscar, more than I can possibly verbalise.”

Oscar watches her for a moment longer before a slow, relieved grin spreads across his face.

Then, quietly, he says, “Come here.”

And Y/N does.

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its-avalon-08 · 9 days ago

Text

🏎️ｂａｃｋ　ｔｏ　ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ🏎️

🏁 pairing : Oscar Piastri x Female!Reporter!Reader

themes : angst, regret, anger, slight smut (not a lot most of it is implied)

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

part 8 : all out in the open

The moment Y/N’s lips press against his, Oscar melts.

It’s desperate. Messy. Their hands tangle in each other’s clothes, gripping like they’re afraid to let go. Oscar’s hands find her waist, pulling her closer, and Y/N fists his shirt, pouring everything into the kiss—the anger, the heartbreak, the longing.

Then, just as suddenly, they rip apart, gasping for air.

Y/N’s tears spill over.

“Oscar—” Her voice shakes, raw and unfiltered. “I’ve liked you since the day you set foot in the paddock.” Her hands tremble as they clutch at his jacket. “And you—you sneaking out like I was nothing—” Her breath hitches. “It broke me.”

Oscar’s face crumbles.

“I woke up alone, and you weren’t there.” Her voice cracks, eyes glossy. “And then you just—ignored me. Like it was nothing.” She presses a hand to her forehead, exhaling shakily. “Like I was nothing.”

Oscar’s chest rises and falls, his eyes dark with regret. “Y/N—”

“I don’t understand,” she whispers, voice thick. “You ran from me, Oscar.” A tear slips down her cheek. “But then you got jealous? You defended me online? You—you flirted with me today, like it meant something, but you still never said anything. And I just—I don’t know what to do with that.”

She looks up at him, eyes searching. Begging.

“Tell me what to do with that.”

Oscar lets out a shaky breath, hands cupping her face. His thumbs brush away her tears. His own eyes are glossy.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “I am so fucking sorry.” He shakes his head, voice breaking. “I thought—” He swallows. “I thought if I ran, I wouldn’t have to deal with this. With us.”

Y/N blinks up at him. “And now?”

His breath stutters. “Now I can’t think about anything else.”

She holds his gaze, heartbeat pounding.

Oscar exhales, his hands still on her cheeks. “I’ve been losing my fucking mind the past few days because everything—everything—reminds me of you.” His voice is hoarse, desperate. “When I see coffee, I think of your ridiculous caramel order. When I hear a song, I think of how you hum when you work. When I walk into the paddock, I look for you without even realizing it.”

Y/N’s breath catches.

Oscar swallows hard, eyes burning. “I’m falling in love with you, Y/N.”

She lets out a choked breath, lips parting.

“I am so fucking in love with you,” he says, voice raw. “And I don’t want to run anymore.”

Silence.

Then—

Y/N lets out a watery laugh, shaking her head. “You know for being so talented you are really fucking dense.”

Oscar huffs out a breath, lips twitching. “I know.”

A pause.

Then she surges forward—kissing him again.

Y/N’s fingers are tangled in Oscar’s shirt when—

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

They jump apart like guilty teenagers caught making out behind the school bleachers.

Oscar instinctively shields Y/N, stepping in front of her like some useless human barricade. His heartbeat is still hammering from the confession, but now it’s for a different reason.

Because Lando and Max are standing a few feet away—both with matching shit-eating grins.

Max folds his arms, smirking. “Well, well, well.”

Lando snorts. “Mate, this is bloody hilarious.” He looks at Y/N. “You—you literally hated him last week.”

Y/N, still breathless, glares. “I did not hate him.”

Oscar, trying to regain some dignity, clears his throat. “Guys, can you—” He gestures vaguely. “Not?”

Lando ignores him. “This is, like, such a plot twist.” He turns to Max. “Do you remember when she called him a ‘emotionally constipated robot’?”

Max cackles. “Ja, ja. And when she said she’d rather interview a brick wall?”

Y/N groans. “I stand by that.”

Oscar deadpans. “Wow. Thanks.”

Max pats his shoulder. “Good job proving her wrong, mate.”

Oscar glares. “Can you both fuck off?”

Lando just grins. “You know I can’t do that.”

Y/N, embarrassed beyond belief, rubs her temples. “I hate both of you.”

Lando winks. “No, you don’t.”

Max smirks. “Just him.” He nods at Oscar.

Y/N’s lips press together, fighting a smile. “Yeah. Just him.”

Oscar groans and runs a hand through his hair. “I literally just poured my heart out.”

Lando claps his back. “Good job, mate. I’m proud of you.”

Oscar sighs, but when he glances at Y/N, her cheeks are still flushed, her lips slightly swollen from their kiss, and his heart stumbles.

He clears his throat, ignoring the two idiots still watching. “We still have a lot to talk about.” His voice is softer now, directed at her. “Come on.”

Y/N meets his gaze, something unspoken passing between them. Then she nods.

Oscar pulls out his car keys and gestures toward the parking lot. “Let’s go.”

Lando whistles. “Wow. So serious.”

Max grins. “Relationship things.”

Oscar flips them off before leading Y/N to his car, leaving the two laughing idiots behind.

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its-avalon-08 · 9 days ago

Text

🏎️ｂａｃｋ　ｔｏ　ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ🏎️

🏁 pairing : Oscar Piastri x Female!Reporter!Reader

themes : angst, regret, anger, slight smut (not a lot most of it is implied)

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 7 : combust into flames butterflies

The club is packed. Music thrums through the walls, the bass passing in Y/N’s chest as she weaves her way through the bodies on the dance floor. The entire paddock is here, drowning in post-race celebrations, champagne, and neon lights. Mind you a lot of sweat but she was just too tired to care.

But she’s done for the night.

She just needs to get out at this point. All those interviews and meetings obviously drained her.

The hallway leading to the exit is narrow, dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of spilled liquor and expensive cologne. She’s focused on moving forward, on pushing past the buzz in her head—

Until she collides with something solid.

No—someone. Her body had collided into someone which very rock hard abs.

Her heel wobbles. She stumbles, reaching blindly for balance—

But hands catch her first.

Strong hands. On her waist.

The grip is firm but careful, steadying her before she can fall back. She barely has time to register it, to react, to breathe—

“Whoa—” A low voice. Familiar. “You okay?”

Her head snaps up.

Oscar.

They’re too close.

The narrow hallway leaves no space between them, her chest nearly brushing against his. His hands linger at her waist for half a second longer before he realizes—before he lets go.

Y/N swallows hard, forcing herself to stand upright, to not lean into him. “Yeah,” she says, voice clipped. “Fine.”

Oscar doesn’t move.

Neither does she.

It’s like the air shifts around them, charged with something neither of them will name. The neon lights from the club flicker against his face, casting a soft glow over the sharp lines of his jaw, his cheekbones. His lips part slightly, like he wants to say something.

Then, slowly—

He lifts a hand.

Pushes a strand of hair out of her eyes, tucking it gently behind her ear.

Y/N freezes.

Her fingers curl into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms as heat rushes to her skin.

It’s too much.

The way his touch lingers for just a second too long. The way his gaze drops—just for a second—to her lips. The way her breath stutters when he meets her eyes again. He truly looks at her like she just hung the moon.

This is her last straw.

She exhales sharply, stepping back. “I should go.”

Oscar’s brows furrow slightly, like he wants to stop her. Like he wants to say something.

But he doesn’t.

And neither does she.

Instead, she pushes past him, ignoring the way her heart is slamming against her ribs.

Ignoring the way his touch still burns on her skin.

Y/N barely makes it down the hallway before she hears him.

“Running off to Alex already?”

She stops. Fucking stops. How dare he. Who the actual fuck does he think he is?

Her jaw clenches. Hands curling into fists at her sides. Her breath still unsteady from everything.

She turns around slowly. Oscar stands a few feet away, hands in his pockets, looking at her with that infuriatingly calm expression. But his jaw is tight, his eyes burning with something unreadable.

Y/N scoffs. “Excuse me?”

Oscar shrugs. “Saw you getting all cozy with him earlier.” His tone is casual. Too casual. “Figured you’d be heading to his place next.”

Her blood boils. “Oh, fuck you, Piastri.”

Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Just saying. Wouldn’t want to interrupt whatever it is you two have going on.”

Her laugh is bitter. Sharp. “You do not get to stand here and act jealous. Not after—” She swallows, voice breaking slightly. “Not after everything.”

Oscar takes a step closer. “And what exactly is ‘everything,’ Y/N?” His voice is low. Careful. “Because from where I’m standing, it was one night that you seemed more than happy to forget.”

Her breath hitches. “Are you serious?” She was shocked at many things, firstly being his damn audacity.

He tilts his head, mockingly. “What? Did I offend you cause it didn’t seem like you were dwelling on it when you were giggling into Alex’s ear.”

Her hands shake. “Oh my god, you are insufferable.”

Oscar exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “You know what’s insufferable?” He takes another step forward, voice tight. Raw. “You. Acting like nothing happened. Acting like I’m just another guy in the paddock—”

Y/N cuts him off. “Oh, I’m sorry, should I have waited for you to sneak out again?”

His face falls.

She lets out a humorless laugh, blinking away the sting in her eyes. “You left me, Oscar. You left without a word. You didn’t text, you didn’t call, you—” Her voice cracks. “You didn’t even look at me.”

Oscar exhales, chest rising and falling heavily. “I—”

She shakes her head. “You don’t get to be mad. You don’t get to throw Alex in my face when you were the one who—”

“I fucked up, okay?” His voice is hoarse. Desperate. “I—” He sighs, shaking his head. “I panicked.”

Y/N crosses her arms, trying to keep herself together. “So what? You regret it?”

Oscar looks at her, something like pain flashing in his eyes. “No.” His voice is soft. Almost broken. “I regret how I handled it. I regret—” He exhales. “I regret making you think you were something I could just leave behind.”

She presses her lips together, eyes stinging.

He runs a hand down his face, voice thick. “It wasn’t just a hookup for me, Y/N.”

She inhales sharply. “Then why did you leave?”

Silence.

Oscar opens his mouth. Closes it.

Then—finally, quietly—

“You were always meant for more. You deserve better than me. You deserve someone whose life isn't dissected by the media, who doesn't have to wear a disguise every time he steps out, who can be there for you and not travel all the time. Looking into your eyes made me realise I wanted all of that. All the relationship-y stuff. all. with. you. I left because I knew if I stayed, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from wanting more.”

Her heart stutters.

Oscar lets out a dry, humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “And I was fucking terrified that you wouldn’t want the same thing.”

Tears prick at her eyes. Her heart was breaking as she heard Oscar speak about himself so negatively. He was more than all his struggles and his pains. “You idiot.” she said.

He blinks. “What?”

She swallows, voice thick. “You think I didn't know all of this before sleeping with you? You thin k I believe the shit they write about you. Oscar i'm part of this circus too. Too friendly in an interview and people think i'm sleeping with a driver. Do you genuinely believe I would like you as much as I do if I didn't want you to stay? I though you were smart Piastri but you are an absolute fucking idiot.”

And then, before she can second-guess it, before she can let the fear creep in—

She grabs his face.

And kisses him.

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its-avalon-08 · 9 days ago

Text

#i hate chem #fuck this #studying #im fucking dying #brat #brat summer

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its-avalon-08 · 13 days ago

Text

🏎️ｂａｃｋ　ｔｏ　ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ🏎️

🏁 pairing : Oscar Piastri x Female!Reporter!Reader

themes : angst, regret, anger, SMAU, slight smut (not a lot most of it is implied)

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 6: am i.. in love?

Oscar sits in the cockpit of his McLaren, helmet still on, visor down, fingers tightening around the wheel as he takes a deep breath.

He shifts slightly, feeling something soft press against his side.

The fucking squishmallow.

It’s tucked in his arms. Tight and secure. He had squeezed it once before getting in, like some kind of ridiculous good luck charm. He’s not saying it worked, but—

He’s about to start P8, and if there’s one thing he knows—he’s going to fight for this podium.

—

Lap 28 – Radio: 📣 McLaren Pit Wall: “Alright, Oscar, Norris ahead on hards. Verstappen maintaining lead, Hamilton behind. Eyes forward.”

Oscar: “Copy. Let’s get them.”

Lap 39 – OVERTAKE ON NORRIS FOR P3 📣 Commentary: “And Piastri makes the move on Norris! He’s up into P3—what a stunning overtake!”

Lap 47 – OVERTAKE ON LECLERC FOR P2 📣 Commentary: “PIASTRI DOWN THE INSIDE OF LECLERC! He’s done it! Up to second place!”

—

Oscar’s Post-Race Radio – P2 Finish

📣 McLaren Pit Wall: “P2, Oscar! What a drive! That was incredible.”

Oscar: laughing, slightly breathless “That was fun. Car was amazing, thanks, guys.”

📣 McLaren Pit Wall: “Mate, that was all you.”

Oscar: “Thanks to all the fans. And all the koalas.”

—

Y/N stands in front of the camera, mic in hand, watching as Oscar walks toward her. His race suit is unzipped to his waist, fireproofs slightly damp from the heat, hair a mess from his helmet. He looks good. Annoyingly edible. Annoyingly perfect.

And he looks happy. Like the high of the race is still running through his veins. Y/N hates to admit but his smile was so contagious.

She schools her expression, keeping her voice professional. “Oscar, P2 today, after some stunning overtakes. You must be feeling incredible right now.”

Oscar grins. “Yeah, not too bad. That was a fun one. It’s always nice when you actually get to race instead of just driving in circles behind Max.” He gave her a genuine smile. The cameras caught it and so did Y/N heart.

Y/N bites back a smirk. “That overtake on Leclerc was particularly bold. Did you know in that moment you had it, or was there a bit of doubt?”

Oscar tilts his head, pretending to think. “I’d like to say I always know what I’m doing, but, you know… sometimes you just send it and hope for the best.”

She lets out a dry chuckle. “Very reassuring for your engineers, I’m sure.”

Oscar grins, leaning slightly closer. “Aww, u=you worried about me, Y/N?”

Her grip on the mic tightens. “Just doing my job, Oscar.”

“Right, right,” he nods, looking far too entertained. He was really feeding off the energy,

Y/N clears her throat, moving on. “The fans want to know about the uh, the koalas—in your radio message. Want to elaborate?”

Oscar’s expression flickers for half a second—just enough for her to know he’s thinking about it. Thinking about her.

“Just… appreciating the support,” he says smoothly. “From everyone. And all the good luck charms.”

Y/N arches a brow. “So you would say the koala is your lucky charm now?” Her heart SOARED.

He shrugs, completely nonchalant. “Something like that.”

Their eyes meet, and for the first time in weeks, the tension between them feels different. Less sharp. More charged.

Y/N quickly straightens. “Well, congratulations on P2, Oscar. A great race today.”

Oscar nods, still smiling as he steps back. “Thanks, Y/N. Always a pleasure talking to you. ”

There’s something teasing in his tone, but she doesn’t react. At least, not outwardly.

Because her heart?

It’s still fluttering.

Y/N exhales, running a hand through her hair as she wraps up her last interview of the day. The paddock is quieter now, the post-race buzz settling into an evening lull.

As she gathers her things, she feels it.

A gaze.

She turns her head slightly, just in time to catch Oscar looking at her.

But the moment their eyes meet—

He looks away. Fast.

She chuckles to herself, shaking her head. Coward.

Across the paddock, Oscar clenches his jaw. He wants to talk to her. Has been thinking about it all day. Has been thinking about her all day.

But the moment he starts moving, the moment he takes a step—

Someone gets there first and fuck is he furious.

—

“Y/N!”

She barely has time to react before a strong arm wraps around her waist, spinning her around.

She yelps, then laughs when she sees who it is. “Oh my god—Jake, put me down!”

Jake, a Red Bull mechanic and one of her good friends in the paddock, grins as he sets her back down. “Haven’t seen you all weekend. What, too cool for me now Ms.Big time journalist?”

She rolls her eyes. “Obviously dude!”

Jake gasps dramatically. “Unbelievable. Betrayed.”

Y/N smirks. “You’ll live.”

Oscar watches the entire exchange from a few meters away, fingers curling into fists.

His jaw locks as Jake tucks a loose strand of Y/N’s hair behind her ear.

His chest tightens when she leans into the hug, her arms wrapping around Jake like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

And when she pulls back, smirking up at the guy like he hung the damn stars—

Oscar sees red.

He doesn’t even realize his feet have moved until Lando suddenly appears beside him.

“Oh, you look pissed,” Lando notes, amused. “What’s up with you?”

Oscar doesn’t respond.

Because Y/N is laughing at something Jake said, and it’s that real laugh—the one she didn’t give him in the McLaren video.

Lando follows his gaze, then snorts. “Oh. Ohhh. Dude.”

Oscar exhales sharply, forcing himself to look away. “I don’t care.”

Lando smirks. “Yeah. Sure Oscar and Max isn't the fastest right now. I guess we're all lying aren't we?"

Oscar clenches his jaw.

He’s not hers. She’s not his.

But, god—

He wishes she was.

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its-avalon-08 · 14 days ago

Text

🏎️ｂａｃｋ　ｔｏ　ｆｒｉｅｎｄｓ🏎️

🏁 pairing : Oscar Piastri x Female!Reporter!Reader

themes : angst, regret, anger, SMAU, slight smut (not a lot most of it is implied)

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

chapter 5 : koalas and smiles

X – @oscarpiastri

@oscarpiastri

People who hate on people for doing their jobs are no fans of mine.

177K Retweets | 2.1M Likes | 12K Comments

—

Comments

@gridtea: OSCAR SAID SIT DOWN.

@piastrigirl98: wait. is this about Y/N??

@oscarwife4ever: he’s literally defending her?? for what 😭😭

@queenyn_: as he should!! y’all were being embarrassing.

@mclarengirl77: not Oscar checking his own fanbase lmao this is so funny

@f1mess: the fact that he tweeted this when we KNOW he never tweets unless it’s something chaotic lmfao

—

Y/N stares at her phone, blinking.

She refreshes Twitter once. Then again.

The tweet is still there. Clear as day.

Oscar, of all people, actually called out his own fans. Oscar, the same guy who had left her hotel room after their night together, was defending her..

She expected him to ignore it, maybe send a half-assed PR apology in private if he really felt bad. But this?

This was public. Deliberate.

And in typical Oscar fashion—short, dry, and straight to the point.

Her fingers hover over her keyboard for a second before she locks her phone.

Because she has no idea what to say.

The paddock is quieter in the early afternoon, the pre-race chaos still a few hours away. Y/N sits at a table outside the media center, flipping through some paperwork, but her mind isn’t really on the forms in front of her.

She had spent the morning convincing herself that she didn’t need to talk to Oscar. That she didn’t owe him anything.

But then she sees him.

A few meters away, walking toward the McLaren garage, hands shoved in his pockets, head slightly down. Looking well and devilishly handsome. His hair was just.. dreamlike.

She doesn’t think. She just moves.

Jogging over, she taps his shoulder lightly.

Oscar turns, surprised, his brows raising when he sees her. “Oh.”

Y/N shifts on her feet, suddenly very aware of how awkward this is. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he echoes, expression carefully blank.

She clears her throat. “I just… I saw your tweet. And, um, thanks. For saying something.”

He shrugs, like it was nothing. “I meant it.”

A small beat of silence. Then, before she can talk herself out of it, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a small, soft plush—a grey koala Squishmallow.

Oscar blinks at it. “What…?”

Y/N thrusts it toward him. “It’s for you.”

His hand closes around it instinctively. “You got me a squishmallow?”

“I mean, I wasn’t going to get you anything, but then I saw it, and I remembered you said koalas were your favorite animal in that McLaren ‘20 Questions’ video,” she says quickly, suddenly regretting this entire thing. “So, yeah. Just… take it. Please.”

Oscar looks at the plush, then back at her, and for the first time in weeks, there’s something unreadable in his eyes.

Before she can let the moment linger, she turns on her heel. “Anyway, thanks again. See you around.”

She’s barely taken three steps when—

“Y/N.”

His voice stops her in her tracks.

She turns her head slightly, just enough to meet his gaze.

Oscar holds the koala in one hand, looking at her in a way that makes her feel too much all at once.

“…Thanks,” he says softly.

They hold eye contact longer than they should.

Too long.

Something charged hangs between them, thick and suffocating, but before either of them can make the mistake of acknowledging it—

Y/N nods once and walks away.

And Oscar stands there, gripping the stupid Squishmallow like it’s something precious.

taglist - @morganalatina21 @armystay89 @aizen-lover @sh1nedreamsm1le7 @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @bbreezyxoxo @downsideup1989 @wherethezoes-at @ginsengi @azuramicah @isotopemylove

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