ButterMaple
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Lando Norris loves racing.
Oscar Piastri does too.
Lando Norris grows to love Oscar Piastri more than he loves racing.
Oscar Piastri will never love Lando Norris more than racing.
Bookmarked by ButterMaple
06 Jul 2026
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First: Landoscar in Oscarland. One minute you're rating Tim Tam flavours as foreplay; the next you crash out of your home race and your teammate practically declares their undying love for you.
Then: The Chinese Grand Prix - a romantic tragedy in 56 a̶c̶t̶s̶ laps. When you're not racing on race day, you make your own entertainment. Luckily, Oscar has company this time.
And: Oh, Canada - another disastrous Sunday, but at least this time Oscar and Lando have the consolation-prize routine down to a science.
Now: The Monaco curse strikes again. Lando attempts to cope in the healthiest way possible: denial, deflection and kissing Oscar senseless. Oscar has other ideas.
A bad-race-therapy fic that (depressingly) keeps on growing.
Series
- Part 2 of F1 Writings by Keeks
Bookmarked by ButterMaple
27 Jun 2026
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His friends all stand up to hug him in greeting. Oscar stays put in his seat, rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans. He’s drunk now and he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of such an ethereal being.
Bambi walks over to him and sticks his hand out for Oscar to shake. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Bambi.”
Oscar’s so riddled with nerves that his tongue feels heavy in his mouth. Nevertheless, he reaches up to take his hand, his own dwarfed in comparison to the man’s large palm. “I’m Oscar,” he says simply, not trusting himself to say anything more.
“I know,” Bambi smiles down at him. “Do you want a lap dance, Oscar?”
OR
Some of the drivers were nice enough to take Oscar out to celebrate him winning the WDC and he gets way more than he bargained for.
Bookmarked by ButterMaple
25 Jun 2026
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And unfolding the little triangle, Lando sees only one sentence: 'I hope you'll love me with one leg missing.
Bookmarked by ButterMaple
25 Jun 2026
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Lando’s got a good job, a great wardrobe, and a shared office space with the most soul-sucking man alive. He’s not intimidated by Oscar Piastri — who has the emotional range of a filing cabinet and the charisma of a stapler, if the stapler could ruin your career with one look. He’s not.
But now that the CEO is retiring, Lando has to charm an entire C-suite to vote for him instead of Oscar to become the new head of the company.
Lando has allies. Oscar has secrets. There’s coffee-stained tension, shared glances that mean nothing (obviously), and a game of corporate chess that feels a little too personal.
It’s fine. Everything is fine. Unless Oscar is already ten steps ahead. Which he probably is. Bastard.
Bookmarked by ButterMaple
21 Jun 2026