forzalando - Tumblr blog

forzalando · 7 months ago

Text

this is so sweet and lovely and adorable UGH. i teared up a bit, i love this so, so much.

kait, you always write the most perfect fics. forever in awe of you.

the way you love

pairing: george russell x reader

summary: loving george russell is as easy as breathing sometimes, especially with the way he loves you. loosely inspired by stardust by zayn. (2.8k)

a/n: welcome to the first of four holiday fics! i'm hoping to post one a day until christmas eve, so stay tuned :)

Maybe you should’ve waited inside for George to pick you up.

Granted, you haven't been out here long, and you know he’ll be here soon, but it’s cold. Frigid wind whips your hair around your face, scraping over your skin harshly.

You nuzzle a little deeper into your scarf in a poor attempt to protect your cheeks.

The two cardboard cups clutched in your hands do help a little with the biting cold. One for you, one for George, both filled to the brim with steaming coffee from the little shop down the street from your building.

They’ve rolled out their holiday cups today, as noted by the festive little scene printed across the sleeve. It makes you smile, and you think George will probably like it too.

George’s sleek car pulls up in front of you with a gentle rumble not long later. You’re expecting him to be smiling when he gets out, but when his head pops over the roof of the car, he just looks concerned.

“Blimey, have you been waiting out here the entire time?” He exclaims incredulously, rounding the front of the car quickly.

You barely have time to nod before he’s easing the cups out of your grip. Only once they’re secured into cup holders inside the car does he grab your hands, bringing them up to his mouth to breathe a little warmth back into them.

“Didn’t want you to have to wait on me,” You say, as if it’s any excuse to have been standing in the freezing cold. Really, you just wanted to see George as soon as he came to pick you up. You’ve just seen him only last week, but it feels like forever.

“Darling, it’s freezing,” He reasons. He’s smiling now, despite the attempt to keep his firm composure.

You frown. “I missed you.”

He kisses you instead of answering, short and sweet, but still bursting with affection.

“Hi,” You say softly, nuzzling deeper into his broad palm after he pulls back an inch or two. His thumbs swipe over your cheeks, bringing some more much needed heat back into your skin. You won’t tell him, but your nose had been starting to lose a bit of feeling.

“Hi. I missed you too,” He replies, fondness dripping from his tone.

“Yeah?”

“Of course. Longest five days of my life.”

That makes you grin even harder, pushing forward for another quick kiss. “Mine too.”

“Glad we feel the same.” He looks very pleased. “Shall we get a move on? We’re a little early, but I know how much you hate being late to things. I even told Alex to expect us early.”

You’re set to head to Alex Albon’s Christmas party in a little bit. George goes every year, but this is the first time you’re going too. You’re excited, nervous, and a little bit scared at the prospect of finally getting to meet all of George’s friends at one time. You've met a handful of them individually, gradually, George happily introducing you as his girlfriend every time, but never in such a large social setting like this party.

You aren’t quite sure what to expect, but if the ones you haven’t met are anything like the ones you have, you’ll be just fine.

“And what did he say about that?”

“That Lily is relieved someone competent is coming round to help out, so I’d say he’s pretty okay with it,” George says, chuckling. “C’mon, let's get you out of the cold.”

You allow George to help you into the car, letting out a comfortable sigh at the blazing warmth of the car interior. George has always liked to keep your shared spaces running hot despite your wishing for the opposite, but for the first time ever, you’re actually grateful for your boyfriend’s temperature preference.

“Nice, isn’t it?” He teases as he climbs into the driver’s seat, nudging at your shoulder. “See, I told you you’d come around someday.”

“Only because it’s cold as shit outside,” You huff, rolling your eyes playfully. “I got you coffee.”

“Thank you, darling. Though I wish you hadn’t sacrificed your health to do so.”

“I know you had another late night yesterday, thought you might be tired. It’s fine, really, I didn’t mind,” You insist, shaking your head.

“You’re very sweet,” George says softly, leaning over the center to press a kiss to your cheek.

You’re not sure what comes over you, but you turn at the last moment so he catches your lips instead. He lets out a noise of surprise, but has no hesitation in kissing you back happily, slipping a hand around the back of your neck to pull you closer.

You kiss and kiss and kiss until your lips start to tingle, and even then, you’re reluctant to pull away. There’s something intoxicating about kissing George that makes you want to do it forever.

“If we stay here any longer, we might actually end up being late,” George murmurs. He blinks at you, long lashes fluttering open and shut slowly. His breath fans across your skin on every exhale, cologne invading your senses until all that surrounds you is him.

“That would be bad.”

“Mm, awful,” He agrees. Still, he doesn’t make any attempt to pull away, perfectly content here, hiding away with you in the coziness of your close proximity. His nose drags along your cheek, lips following the path until he reaches the corner of your mouth.

You exhale shakily. “Alex and Lily are expecting us.”

“They are.”

“So we should go.”

“I mean, we don’t have to…” George trails off, letting his head tilt to the side.

“Yes, we do. Someone roped us into helping with party prep.”

He sighs rather heavily, handsome features screwing into overdramatic annoyance. “Starting to regret that right about now.” That makes you giggle. “Alright, fine. Let’s get this over with so we can go home.”

“There’s that holiday spirit!”

The drive over to Alex’s is fairly short. It actually takes more time to make yourselves presentable and not at all like you’ve just been making out in the car, before making your way up to Alex and Lily’s. George has brought presents for both of your friends—a watch for Alex and a bottle of perfume for Lily, he’d informed you in the elevator, bought by him, but a gift from the both of you.

The door swings open with a blast of music and the smell of something delicious not seconds after you knock. Alex stands just behind it with a gracious smile on his face and a flute of something bubbly in hand.

“Hi, welcome—oh, thank god you’re here,” He breathes. Then he stops, stares at the two of you for a few moments, as if he’s studying the both of you. A knowing smirk quirks his lips right after. “George, you’ve got lipstick on your chin, mate.”

George’s hand flies up to his face, rubbing furiously. His cheeks have flushed an embarrassed pink at his friend’s smug observation.

“I’m just kidding. But it was funny to see you panic,” Alex snickers.

“Ha ha, hilarious. Maybe I won’t give you this gift after all.”

Alex takes both boxes eagerly, tucking them under his arm with a wink. “Come on in, friends.”

The flat is decorated tastefully—festive, but not gaudy. You assume Lily had done most of the decor rather than Alex.

Speaking of—

“You’re here!!! Thank god!” Lily exclaims, barely paying George any mind before she whisks you away, chattering away immediately, wanting your opinions on everything from the appetizers to the seating arrangements at dinner. You cast a helpless glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend, who merely gives you an amused wave back.

You do what Lily tells you needs finishing up until the rest of the guests start to make their arrival. Most of the other drivers are in attendance, save for a few who’d opted to spend the holidays home with their families. Charles and Carlos are here, Lando and Oscar, Yuki, Pierre, Zhou and Franco, to name a few.

The bundle of nerves in your chest starts to unravel as more familiar faces trickle in, and you’re able to catch up with a couple of them. You’re chatting with Kika and Pierre about what’s new with Simba when a hand touches the small of your back.

Instantly, you know it's George. His touch is the only one that sends butterflies through you. That’s never happened with anyone else before, but with George, you feel alight with a certain energy every time.

You lean back into him on instinct, tilting your head up to look at him. His cheeks are slightly rosy, hair still perfectly coiffed, save for one curl that has escaped to hang over his forehead. You reach up to brush it back and he smiles, sliding a hand around your waist.

“So sorry to interrupt, you lot. Just wanted to pop in and see if anybody needed a refresher on their drinks,” He offers, though his gaze rests solely on you.

“Thank you, but we’re good, mate,” Pierre replies, as Kika shakes her head to decline too.

George says your name, lips lifting into a small smile as he juts his chin at your nearly empty glass.

“Thank you, Georgie,” You say gratefully. “Don’t forget to—”

“Make it sweeter? Yes, I know how you take your drinks, darling,” He hums, kissing your cheek quickly before retreating with your glass.

“You’ve trained him well,” Pierre teases, winking at you.

“I think he was born that way,” You admit.

That isn’t a lie. According to George’s sister, who you’d had the pleasure of meeting a few months back, he'd always been very kind, very caring, even when he was young. It’s one of the many qualities of his that has you falling in love with him a little more with every passing day.

George leaves you to your own conversations after bringing you your drink, but you see him periodically throughout the night. He always looks like the life of the conversation, talking animatedly, listening with rapt attention when he’s not yapping away.

Even as he’s listening intently, it’s like he can sense you’re looking at him, because he finds you almost instantly, sending a smile or a wink your way. That’s another lovable quality of his—knowing where you are even when he’s not with you. Like you’re two magnets being pulled towards each other at all times.

The more you chat with everyone else, one thing becomes obvious. George talks about you a lot. Not enough to be obnoxious, but he's mentioned you to many of his friends.

Charles knows you’ve been looking into learning how to play the piano because George had asked him something about which pianos were the best. Yuki offers up a few cooking tips because George had mentioned you wanted to try your hand at a new dish. Lewis congratulates you on a big project you’d finished at work a while back, telling you that George had been singing your praises in the garage right after you'd called.

If you look back at it, George has always been one of your biggest supporters.

Always wanting you to call him whenever something big happens because he can’t be there all the time, always doing things for you when he’s away so you never for a moment feel like he's not thinking of you. Sending you flowers, ordering you food from your favorite spot in Monaco even though he's a thousand miles away because he knows it’ll make you smile. Even just texting you a picture of something he saw that made him think of you.

George makes you feel so, so loved, all the time. Like, wherever you are in the world, no matter, everything will be okay because you’ve got him. You could be on some far off deserted island in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the land to live off of, but if George is there with you, it wouldn’t be all that bad.

Sometimes you wonder what your life would’ve been like if you’d never met him, but you never get far with those thoughts. You can’t even imagine what life would look like without George Russell. And honestly, you don’t really want to.

“Ready to head out?” George’s voice draws you out of your thoughts, and when you refocus, he’s right in front of you, holding out your coat. For a moment, you can only stand there, blinking back at him like you’ve just laid eyes on him for the first time ever.

He falters a little under your intense staring. “Darling? Are you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“Sorry, yeah. I’m fine, I’m just…tired, I think.”

“Let’s go home then. Stay the night at mine?”

“Duh,” You say. Your obvious tone makes George chuckle a little bit as he helps you slip into your coat.

“How silly of me to even ask.”

After finding your hosts to thank them for the great evening and subsequently being invited for a game of doubles padel with them one of these days, you're off.

“I don’t have any skin cleanser,” You say suddenly, just as George has pulled onto the main road.

“What?”

“At your place. I don’t have my cleanser, the one I always use before bed.”

“The one in the little green bottle?”

“Yeah.” You frown, slumping back in your seat. In hindsight, it’s really not the biggest deal in the world, and you’re not sure why you’re making it one. But for some reason right now, you’re focused on it.

“Lucky for you, your wonderful boyfriend bought a bottle just in case this happened. He figured you’d probably forget it one of these days.”

“Is there a reason my wonderful boyfriend is referring to himself in the third person?” You giggle, shifting in your seat to face said thoughtful boyfriend. George’s cheeks are flushed a little pink.

“Yeah, I thought it was a little weird too. Anyways, there’s a bottle in the bathroom cupboard.”

“Thank you, Georgie. You’re always so thoughtful.”

“Y’know, you could just move in with me. That way you won’t have to worry about not having things at mine anymore.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the road as he speaks, but you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows nervously. “You’ve already got loads of stuff there anyways, why not just bring it all? You wouldn’t have to drive across the city every time you come over, for one.”

“I barely drive to yours anyways, you know. You always insist on picking me up,” You tease. George smiles, but you can tell he’s serious about wanting you to move in with him. You sigh, squeezing his hand. “Babe, I’d love nothing more, but…I could never afford to live with you.”

“I’m not going to have you pay rent or anything like that, darling. I wouldn't ask that of you.” George’s nose wrinkles, like it’s absurd of you to even think about it. “Just your company would be more than enough, honestly. Make the place less empty, more like…home.”

You can already imagine it. Falling asleep next to each other every night, waking up tangled together every morning, getting to come home and unwind with each other after long days. Breakfasts and afternoon teas and dinners you’d make together in George’s massive kitchen. Your stuff mingling with his in every room of the place.

Maybe you’d adopt a pet together one day, one that could keep you company every time George was away for races.

“Okay,” You say softly. You’ve already convinced yourself. “Let’s live together.”

George pulls to a stop at the red light, taking the opportunity to lean over into your space and kiss you gently. “Let’s do it, darling.”

Taking the next step in your relationship seems daunting, but George will be there to soothe any anxieties you have. He always is.

“Oh no! We forgot about the coffee.” He frowns, plucking the still full cup out of the holder suddenly. Then he shrugs, taking a giant sip of it. “Cute cup.”

“George, it’s cold!” You exclaim, tugging at his sleeve. “Just throw it out when we get home.”

“It tastes fine!”

“It’s probably stale.”

“I think it’s delicious.”

“You’re so weird.”

He chooses to ignore the muttered quip, letting a giant grin stretch his lips instead, eyes gleaming with excitement. “You called it home.”

“Well, it is now, isn’t it? Or will be soon enough.”

“Sure will. I’m thinking we move you in tomorrow.”

You chuckle, shaking your head at his enthusiasm. “I have to get out of my lease first. It might take a while too, my landlord is kind of an asshole.”

“I’ll give him double whatever you’re paying right now to let you out of it early. No, triple.”

“I don’t think he’d appreciate bribery, but he is a Mercedes fan.”

“Paddock passes and VIP club access to Monaco next season, done.”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new writing :)

#george russell x reader #george russell fluff #george russell #gr63 x reader #george russell x fem!reader #george russell fic #f1 x reader #gr63 #gr63 rec #forzalando rec

202 notes · View notes

forzalando · 7 months ago

Text

i love saying “i’m being normal about it” bc i’m actually a filthy fucking liar and i’ve never been normal about anything a single day in my life

61K notes · View notes

forzalando · 7 months ago

Text

literally obsessed with this and i’m so team oscar, i’m going to simply die if oscar isn’t endgame😔✋🏼

★ MASTERLIST

#oscar piastri #op81 #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris #ln4 #lando norris x reader #smau #f1 smau

2K notes · View notes

forzalando · 7 months ago

Text

chicane

max verstappen x reader | 1.6k

you tell max you love him for the first time. accidentally.

cw: r is drunk but happy, max is charming and tipsy, being silly and in love, love confessions

a/n: this came to me while i was taking a drunk shower.

You're drunk and tonight was perfect.

The late-night lights of the city rush by as you get closer and closer to your hotel, the cab driver content to turn the radio up a little more as you ramble in the back seat.

"It's just so nice that they all wanted to celebrate you," you say. "And for that one guy to buy us all drinks 'cause he's a fan! Oh, look, Max, that one is so pretty."

Max dutifully agrees and gently keeps you from pressing your nose to the glass with an arm around your shoulders. He's less drunk than you are, though he probably had just as many drinks. After his remarkable win today you're glad he let loose. He deserves it. You think he deserves everything, but a night out with the team and his friends and some free drinks is a good start.

And, god, he looks so good like this. Cheeks flushed, hair a little sweaty and tousled from his hands and yours, shirt open a button or two lower than his usual. You abandon the window and look at him instead, watching lights you were so focused on color his face and make his eyes shine.

You're so proud of him.

He laughs. "Thank you, liefje." Oh, did you say that out loud? The hand not twisted in the strap of your top squeezes your knee. He keeps his eyes on your face, mouth curled into a soft half-smile like he can't help but be fond of you.

The cab driver says you're just about there and Max pulls away from you to hand him some cash and a thought hits you full-force, louder in your head than the rush of his car across the finish line earlier today.

You love him.

Did you say that out loud, too? No, no. He gives no indication of having heard you so you don't think so. But the realization fills you with awe, with lightness, with joy. You laugh to yourself and Max shoots you an amused glance. You'll tell him, probably. At some point. But for now it's like the best kind of secret, new and exciting.

Max slides out of the cab first and holds a hand out for you. Beaming at him, you take it and don't let go as he tugs you up through the hotel doors and across the lobby to the elevators.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

It's like a song in your mind that syncs with the beat of your heart. You probably have for months, now. Maybe even as soon as you met him. How could you not? He's so good to you. Kind, patient, gentle. Funny, generous, intuitive. Quick to own up to his mistakes, willing to apologize when he's in the wrong. He's taught you so much about communication and healthy boundaries, about hard work and discipline.

Max says your name, pulling out of your lovesick musings. "Do I have something on my face?" he asks you, wearing his signature amused smirk and raised brow. You've been staring at him. The elevator arrives and you pull him into it, hitting your floor number and then the close button as quick as you can.

"No," you say, cheerily. "You're just handsome."

He rolls his eyes but welcomes you into his space, steadying you with a hand on your hips as you press your lips to his in the solitude of the elevator. It's a near miss -- you manage to catch the corner of his mouth, but Max redirects you easily for a proper kiss, slotting your lips together perhaps a little sloppily but it's exactly what you wanted.

A robotic voice announces your floor and Max pulls away first, pressing one more chaste kiss to your mouth before threading your fingers together and leading you down the hall to your room.

"Did you have fun tonight?" you ask him. He waves his room key in front of the pad and it lights up green.

"I did," he says, holding the door open for you to sneak under his arm. "Did you?"

You kick off your shoes and look around your shared room. Clothes draped on chairs, your suitcases lined up next to each other on the luggage racks. Max's laptop and meeting notes on the desk, the book you bought at the airport. It makes that feeling in your chest swell even more. You want to share space with him for the rest of your life.

"Yeah," you say. "I always have fun with you, Max."

He snorts at your enthusiasm but allows it, toeing off his sneakers and sitting heavily on the bed. You stand between his knees automatically and card both hands through his hair. He leans back on his palms and closes his eyes, chin tipped up. You could do this for hours, probably. It's always worth seeing him relax, let his walls down. Even when you're out with everyone on a night like tonight, blissfully loose and celebrating, you know he's not quite who he is when it's just the two of you. It's Max's nature to have these masks. They protect him.

But you protect him, too. You let him be himself.

"Are you hungry?" he finally asks, words slurring just the smallest bit. Probably from your fingers on his scalp more than the alcohol, really. "Want me to order some room service?"

It's the best idea you've ever heard and you tell him so. "Fries, maybe?" you suggest. "Oh, and a Diet Coke. For sure. And ice cream!"

"Okay, okay," he laughs, sitting up again and grabbing your wrists so he can kiss both of your palms. "Go shower and I'll call down."

"Shower!" you gasp, your drunkenness making your enthusiasm impossible to contain. "Such a good idea. You're so smart, Max."

He laughs, a bright, boyish sound. You would bottle it up if you could.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

This time it slips out.

"I love you," you say, beaming, without a second thought. "Wow, I can't wait to eat some fries."

You're so excited about this turn of events that you don't register his reaction, don't realize what you've confessed. You just head for the bathroom, grabbing your sleep clothes on the way and humming to yourself.

It's not until you're rinsing the fancy hotel body wash from your skin that you hear your own words in your ears.

You told Max you love him.

The water is warm but you shiver. "Oh god," you whisper to yourself.

Obviously you meant it. That's not the problem. It's just not really how you wanted to say it -- drunk after a night out celebrating his race win, thanking him for ordering you some 1am room service. Max deserves romance. You should have waited for a dinner date, or a night at his place this week, whispered it while you're both wrapped up in his sheets.

But now he knows. And does he feel the same?

You turn off the spray and wrap yourself in one of the huge, fluffy bath towels. He probably does, right? He certainly shows it. Even if he doesn't want to say it just yet you can feel it. In the way he looks at you, the way he looks after you. In his touches, the innocent ones and the not-so-innocent ones, in his gaze and the way he says your name like it's something precious.

He loves you. You're sure of it. You just feel a little silly about the whole thing.

You dry off and slip into your comfies. When you open the bathroom door you find Max tugging off his shirt, clearly planning to hop in the shower, too.

"Food should be here any minute," he says. "They had a few kinds of ice cream, so I got them all."

He turns to you and smiles so wide you feel your cheeks heat. He just looks so happy.

"I was going to tease you a bit," he says fondly, crossing the room to stand in front of you. "About what you said before you went into the shower. But right now you just look so --"

"What, Max?" you ask, pouting a little. He's teasing you plenty, in your opinion.

"Cute," he finishes. "Liefje, you look like a raccoon."

You must look confused because he scrunches his nose at you and cups your face, thumbs swiping at the skin under your eyes. He shows you them, black mascara flecks dotting the pads of them.

"Oh," you say. "Whoops."

"I love you," Max says. "I should have led with that."

Your hands rest on his bare chest of their own accord, feeling the solid warmth of him you know so well. His heart beats steadily under your palm. As sure as his feelings for you.

"Really?" you breathe. You can't help it. Even though you believe him, even though it's not really a surprise, a reflexive sense of doubt swells in your throat. Can life really be this good? Can you have someone who loves you, someone who takes care of you, someone as good and kind as Max?

His brows furrow for just a second before he clearly surmises that you're just drunk and starry-eyed.

"Really," he echoes. He kisses you just once, soft and sure. "I'm going to shower. Leave some fries for me?"

You nod dutifully. "Obviously," you say. "You get some of my fries because I love you."

There's that laugh again -- unguarded, transforming his whole face.

"I'm a lucky guy," he says.

#oh this is so adorable #i feel like crying #max verstappen x reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen #mv1 #mv33 #forzalando rec

710 notes · View notes

forzalando · 7 months ago

Text

landoscar layout to celebrate, been crying for hours, what a day

how are y’all doing?😀

#op81 #ln4 #landoscar #abu dhabi gp 2024

22 notes · View notes

forzalando · 7 months ago

Text

Pink cheeks and a smiley face 🎀

cr.gettyIamges, Abu Dhabi gp 2024

#i’m so in love with him i’m sorry #giggling kicking my feet #abu dhabi gp 2024 #op81

2K notes · View notes

forzalando · 7 months ago

Text

no bc i’m crying, this is everything to me. somehow my love for oscar keeps growing, i did not think that was even possible.

finally [op81]

a/n: IT'S TIIIIIIIIIMEEEEEE, welcome to my first holiday-eque fic. this one isn't as holiday but it does take place at the mclaren christmas party, so it's a good warming :) as usual let me know what you think! idea: oscar piastri and you have been flirting the entire year, and it all comes to a tipping point at the McLaren Holiday party formula one/indycar masterlist: HERE taglist: join my taglist community! words: 2k warnings: gn!reader, alcohol consumption!! nothing else really!! just cute fluffy holiday goodness :)

Something every person on the team looked forward to was the McLaren Holiday-End-of-Season party. Each year, some sort of big thing tended to happen that became the evening's unofficial title.

There was the one when Zak bet everyone in the room he could do a cartwheel (he couldn’t) and e-transferred everyone close by $20.

People still talked about the one where Jensen Button tricked everyone into thinking he jumped into the lake (he didn’t) when in reality he found a big rock and pushed it to create a splash.

Last year was referred to as the one Lando almost didn’t make it to (he did, to a hero’s welcome) because his car wouldn'tstart. Imagine, an F1 driver's car not starting.

This one particular McLaren HQ Holiday party would later be known as “That One Oscar got drunk and asked out (Y/n).” And depending on who you asked, the word finally was thrown in the mix.

It wasn’t a secret something was going on between the two of you. You worked as a host for the hospitality team, mainly meaning you stood at the front of the dining room for guests and team alike, showing them to the table and offering to answer any questions they might have.

The first race weekend and your first official week on the job, you’d caught Oscar’s eye, smiling and making a small, stupid joke about something you wished wasn’t implanted into your brain. But when he laughed with shaking shoulders, you felt your heart do a small flip.

By the fourth race weekend, other people started noticing. Oscar and you would talk longer than you did for other guests or team members, often ending with little chuckles and a glance behind.

By the tenth race weekend people were relentless about it, although neither of you knew it. Bets were being made as tohow long it took Oscar to ask you out on a date. Others said you would be the one to break the ice officially, and more said that maybe nothing would happen at all.

The Christmas party had all the guise to change that, if not for the free-flowing alcohol, then for the potential time crunch. Oscar had no clue if you would be resuming your post as host next season, and he had no idea how to ask you.

He tried to convince himself to do it in Abu Dhabi, but instead, a different, even more pressing question popped out.

“You’ll be at the holiday party right?” Oscar asked, his normally calm demeanour holding true on the outside, but on the inside, he was desperately hoping for a specific answer.

“Oh, of course, wouldn’t miss it! Are you going?” You returned with a genuine smile. Oscar was one of the quarter people who got a genuine smile from you on a race weekend. Most of your job involved smiling politely, but with Oscar, it came out without need to call it.

“Good, I’ll see you then,” Oscar said, he tapped on the stand you stood behind twice. As he walked away he contorted hisface embarrassed thinking it was an odd thing to do. Your heart instead doubled in speed as you watched him walk away.

Oscar held true to his promise.

It was about an hour in to the night before you saw him, holding a beer, wearing his face on a Christmas jumper and laughing along with something Lando said. You were talking with other members of the hospitality team and happened to see him. You had started to become nervous he hadn’t been able to make it.

Oscar saw you out of the corner of his eye and slowly turned his head towards you. You smiled, another authentic smile, and Oscar waved back. Lando followed his sight line and also grinned, a bit more impishly, like he knew something you didn’t.

You turned back to your conversation, taking a sip of your cocktail, but weren’t paying attention anymore. From the corner of your eye, you just barely watched Oscar get thumped on the shoulder by his teammate, regain his balance, and start walking in your direction.

If your heart was tested that very moment, it probably could’ve powered an F1 car.

Excusing yourself from the conversation you weren’t actually a part of, you turned and met him halfway, the smile already forming on your lips as it always automatically did when you saw him.

“Good evening,” Oscar greeted. You could tell he was tipsy. Everyone in the room excluding designated drivers, pregnant women, or chosen sober people were. You had already had two drinks before you met him and were almost finished with your third, so you felt the effects of the alcohol on an even playing ground.

“Good evening,” You mimicked. His smile grew wider. His cheeks were rosy from the drink in his hand and you couldn’thelp but find it even more endearing.

“How are you?” He asked.

“I’m alright, I’m enjoying my first McLaren holiday party a lot,” You said, and it was the alcohol that helped the nextwords come out, “And a lot more now.”

All that new information caused Oscar to laugh funnily, and when he breathed in, he almost snorted causing you to giggle.

My first McLaren holiday party. And a lot more now.

“So, does that mean we can expect my favourite hospitality person back next year?” Oscar ventured. His eyes were so focused on you that he almost seemed to be memorizing everything in front of him. It was in a way that might’ve made you nervous if it were someone else. But with Oscar… with Oscar you wanted him to drink in even more of you.

You’d never felt like this for anyone else. It was embarrassing and enlightening, and quite frankly terrifying. But more than anything, it was exciting. The easy flirting throughout the year had hit it's tipping point.

“It absolutely does mean that,” You admitted, “I’m renewed through ‘til 2026.”

Oscar’s smile widened along with yours. It was just so contagious.

“Me too,” He said as if everyone in the room didn’t already know that, “Phew, that’s a relief actually.”

“Why’s that?” You questioned, looking up at him.

“No reason,” Oscar teased. He felt braver than he did normally because of the drinks.

“Well, I’m sure if I were to leave someone else could show you to your table,”

“Yeah, but who will tell me great jokes,” Oscar countered, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. He could feel the sparkle shining in his eyes.

“Certainly not me. You must be thinking of your other favourite hospitality person,” You easily replied.

“C’mon, ‘Your table’s over there, but it’s a fast one so you’d better go quickly,’” Oscar mimicked you, and your eyes widened. It only caused him to laugh harder and you to use your free hand to cover your face. It hid the blush of your cheeks but also the grin.

“How did you remember that? That was nearly 9 months ago!” You complained peeking out at him, “God, I was so embarrassed right after I said it, why did I try?”

Oscar cackled in a way only he could while drinking. She’d never seen him like this, in the way he was so relaxed. He always appeared relaxed throughout the season, but this was a true fluidity. It could’ve been a combination of the drinks and the fact the season was over. Oscar knew himself, it was also thanks to the company he was with.

“What do you mean?!” He argued, “I laughed, I’m pretty good at deadpanning if I have to, but I laughed because it was funny!”

He also laughed because he was immediately a bit nervous around the mesmerizing person in front of him that first day. He wasn’t lying, he found it funny and also wildly cute that you’d said it. But he probably would’ve laughed even if you’d made fun of his shoes.

“It was not!”

“It was, and it started something….” Oscar fought for the word, “Nice.”

“Nice?” You repeated, giggling some more as Oscar did the same.

“Would you call our friendship not nice?” Oscar asked.

You feigned thinking for a minute looking away from him in the process, letting his gaze which hadn’t left you continue. You finally looked back, his brown eyes shining in a way he’d never looked at anyone before.

“I positively would call it... nice,” You said, stretching out the words dramatically.

Oscar threw his head back again. You knew what you said was not particularly funny, and the alcohol helped loosen Oscar’s already wide sense of humour, but it still sent warmth running through your stomach.

Oscar took a sip of his drink and you did the same. The party went on around you, and this moment of comfortable silence was the first reminder in a while that you two weren’t the only ones in the room. The main thing that could be heard was Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You, and all the people singing along pretending to be Mariah Carey.

“So, have any plans for the winter break?” Oscar asked. You chuckled at the sudden change of subject.

“Nothing in particular,” You said, “Home with family, relaxing, maybe a trip for myself.”

“Well if you have spare time, we should make plans... I’d like to join you… together,” Oscar said, his confidence waning for some reason as he finally got the words out.

“You’d like to join me in doing nothing in particular… together?” You mimicked his tone, and you tried to keep your face serious. To keep this most wonderful banter going, but your lips tugged up and gave you away. That tugging gave Oscar an early sense of relief.

“I’d be happy doing anything with you,” Oscar said loudly over the music and singing.

The problem was just as he’d said it, the music was changing and the only sound left was room chatter and his yell over it. The people surrounding them turned to look over, many of them were smirking, and others were just watching proudly. A few loud whoops from the crowd around them – including one from Lando – made Oscar’s already pink face turn redder. The music turned back on and people went to their conversation, now all but aware of what was going on between the two of them.

“If this is your way of asking me on a date…” You started.

“Only if that would be a good thing,” Oscar said, faster than he’d ever spoken in his usual slow Australian accent.

“I think that would be a very nice thing,” You said, repeating his chosen word back to him.

By now, the whispers would have started, and even those on the other side of the room were starting to catch wind that the will-they-won’t-they couple of McLaren appeared to be ‘will they-ing’ in front of their very eyes.

In another world, you would’ve cared about all the talk. But in this one, you do the one thing you’d been hoping you could do for the past nine months.

Oscar realizes it just before it’s going to happen and he grins. You reach his lips and wrap your arms around his neck at the same moment. He kisses back just as eagerly, and you know he’s been wanting to taste your lips just as badly as you have his.

When you break apart you look up at him through your lashes, he’s grinning ear to ear in a way you know your own face mirrors. People around are clapping embarrassingly.

“Finally!” Lando shouts and you and Oscar laugh to yourselves, still a few inches from each others faces. That’s what you were feeling. It was elation, curiosity and desire rolled into one word. Finally.

Every McLaren Holiday party needed a moniker, and it didn’t take long at all for that one to stick – “that one Oscar got drunk and finally asked out (Y/n).”

#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri #op81 x reader #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fic #op81 fluff #op81 rec #op81 #forzalando rec

301 notes · View notes