killerhaz
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LANDO: I don't need a bodyguard.
JON: You need a bodyguard.
LANDO: I'm not going to like him.
JON: You don't have to like him.Lando Norris is having a completely normal year.
He's only broken one ice sculpture, ruined one pair of trousers in an elevator for reasons he refuses to discuss, and developed a purely professional interest in the man his label hired to stand near doors.
Oscar Piastri does not flirt. Oscar Piastri does not blink. Oscar Piastri makes coffee exactly right without ever having asked, and once fixed a lighting rig in a way that made an entire production team turn around slowly.
He also has a wallet.
That's all anyone's going to say about the wallet.[Eleven weeks later, Lando Norris is sitting in a stranger's jacket in a hotel room in Portugal, arguing out loud with a candle]
Bookmarked by killerhaz
14 Jul 2026
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- Words:
- 49,640
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 19
Bookmarked by killerhaz
14 Jul 2026
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Silverstone had screamed itself hoarse for him, had waved Union Jacks and neon flags bearing his logo until the grandstands looked like a living, breathing sea of his colors. The world loved him today — revered him with a ferocity he once thought could fill every hollow space inside him.
And it meant nothing.
Because every time he blinked, he saw it again — the angry flush creeping up Oscar's normally composed face during the national anthem. The mechanical, joyless way he'd raised his champagne bottle during celebrations, spraying it at no one in particular with all the enthusiasm of someone washing their car. The way his eyes, usually so warm when they found Lando's, had turned flat and distant, like someone had flipped a switch and turned off everything that made him Oscar.
Bookmarked by killerhaz
04 Jul 2026
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The crowd shifted, and Lando was moving again, leaving the omega lady with a playful wink. He cut through the throng with predatory grace, not towards Oscar, but towards the young group of young alpha lords, boisterous on beer and port, who cheered at his approach.
He was a creature of perfect adaptation. No one knew his secret. No one but Oscar.
(Oscar has been playing second-fiddle to Lando his whole life. Imagine his surprise, then, that the "perfect alpha heir" to House McLaren isn't an alpha at all.)
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- English
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- 35,707
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- 3/3
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Bookmarked by killerhaz
01 Jul 2026
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You: I saw you repost a Mama Max post on your priv
You: Don’t play dumb
Inchident: Ah but that isn’t making fun of you!
Inchident: Just appreciating your care :)
You: …
Five times Max rushed to the rookies and One time they rushed to him (+a bonus ;))
Series
- Part 2 of Scudderies's MotorSport Fics
Bookmarked by killerhaz
05 Jun 2026